Once on This Island. (and thank god it's only once.)

If you count high school productions, you can count on two fingers the amount of musicals I've seen in my life; if you ban the high school performances, the number is just one: last season's Two Gentlemen of Verona at CenterStage. I liked it. It was a rock musical with a lot of influence from the 1970s, a musical era I like, and the musical updated a Shakespeare play with an anti-war message. I dug it.

Tonight, though, I was reminded why I have always shied away from the genre. Once On This Island is the epitome of everything bad about musicals - cartoonish acting, the inability for the audience (or at least me) to suspend disbelief as to why these people are singing instead of talking, songs without hooks, a lack of a plot. I've always heard that a characters in a musical should give the audience the impression that there's so much emotion built within them that they have no choice but to sing; here, I didn't get the impression at all. It felt like it was designed for elementary aged kids. It was torture. I literally stared at the wall.

At the intermission, I looked to my three friends for agreement. I got none of it. Apparently, I was the only one who didn't like it. "They're so talented," one of my friends said. I don't care if they are talented (and they were, except the crazy long-haired man playing the devil) if the show is crap. My friend, the music teacher, said, "Their music is phenomenal. Such artistry." Frankly, I didn't much care for it. The music was monotonous to me.

Anyhow, I left at intermission. I couldn't bear the thought of staying in that audience for another hour. The problem was, we parked at The Charles and ate at Tapas Teatro, and it's quite a walk from Center Stage to The Charles. I was going to take a cab. Until I realized what a beautiful night it was. I just strolled up Charles Street, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather, and made my way home.