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May. 27th, 2004 11:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaalaTuesday:
It was my day off, so I took the train to Toronto to see the Frantics again! Words cannot describe how excited I was about this. It was all I could do not to make "ee!" noises when sitting in the Playhouse waiting for the show to begin. Peter came out around 8:35, apologized for the delay but said they really wanted to include another sketch in the show so we would have to wait another 5-10 minutes. At first, I was a tad annoyed but I figured I might as well have a chat with the elderly man who had sat down on my right... and soon I was quite glad of the delay. Here's why: not only was he charming and friendly, but he was also Paul Chato's father.
L (he told me his name but for the sake of his privacy I'll refrain from using it) came to Canada from Hungary in 1949. (He has a slight accent.) Paul's mother lives in Australia so L alternates between Australia and Canada; he gave an entertaining account of his arduous trek to find 56 Blue Jays Way from Union Station. He talked a bit about Paul's career, drifting into theatre/comedy and then to computers. Some of it was stuff I already knew but it was still interesting hearing it first-hand. I was glad to note that he seemed enthusiastic about both of his son's careers. (Thankfully, things have changed since Paul's Jewish relatives refused to attend shows at the German Harmony Club.) When I described how it is that I became interested in the Frantics, we got onto the subject of the internet. L likes using computers a lot because it occupies the time and "They don't talk back!" I was startled to be asked if I plan to be a comedian myself. No, I laughed, I didn't think I could be. And so the topic switched to music. He knows some orchestral musicians in Australia. Paul played the saxophone in school and loved to practice electric guitar at home with the level turned up really high.
As for the actual show, Keith has a pretty good write-up of it here. There was no Dan Redican in drag this time but that didn't stop my sides from aching from laughing so much. As Keith says, their timing is still right on. The new material does tend to be a bit edgier... or perhaps that simply means that certain content wasn't allowed on CBC Radio.
Paul's performance drew special notice at the previous performance because a) I've always thought he was the most versatile performer b) he dropped off the face of the (comedy) earth for 15 years. For obvious reasons (see above), I was noticing Paul even more this time. That man's ability to assume different accents, voices, and mannerisms is incredible. It seems his geeky appearance allows him to pull off pretty risque material (rather like the way Rick's innocent appearance and high pitched voice serve him). If L ever had any objection to his son cussing, pretending to be a woman or gay, or using sexual innuendo, he's gotten over it. For some reason, Paul kept messing up during the show, but he always did so hilariously so we couldn't help but forgive him. First, something made him crack up completely during "Watering the Lawn/Hey Jude" which very nearly threw off everybody else. (See a photo here.) Then during his song as a Raffi-esque children's entertainer ("Earth Raper", about Mommy's and Daddy's SUVs), he suddenly stopped and yelled out, "Oh fuck, I've forgotten it!" and had to dash offstage to get the script. A few minutes later: Woman in the audience: "Don't screw up this time!" Paul: "I'll try not to!"
Now, don't let all this focus on Paul detract from the others at all. One of the funniest sketches (and at the same time most disturbing, of course) was carried off perfectly by Dan, completely solo--no props or sound effects either. His facial expressions and body language have to be the best in the troupe. Picture a man starting out a scene blithely innocent and then gradually realizing that his wife is making arrangements with hit men to have him killed. Peter's scene of a father talking his daughter through her first period over a cell phone on the GO train is an absolute hoot. ("Oh, sweetie! You're growing up! It's your womanly flow!" ..."No, no, honey, wait! The string goes on the outside. Okay, now put your foot up on the toilet...") And of course, good old Rick and his Instant Buddhism routine, and the diseases card game, etc. etc. He's great at coming up with really bizarre characters and making them likeable.
Without suggesting for a moment that they were being smarmily self-indulgent, I loved seeing how much fun they were obviously having. The best ad lib of the night was probably, once again, said by Paul. It was during the hysterical "Every Star Trek Episode in Under 5 Minutes" sketch, a classic (not suitable for radio or TV so I've never heard/seen it) Rick and Paul piece that was performed by request. Rick played Captain Kirk and an enemy space ship and Paul played everyone/everything else--Bones, Scotty, Spock, expendable red shirt, the Enterprise, and Uhura... *snicker*. (Rick played Uhura for a moment too, frighteningly well.) At one point, Paul pulled his shirt up over his head to form the giant mouth of the alien Kretchfoop. After some vigorous mouth puppeteering from Paul while exposed from armpits to waist, it was Rick's turn to corpse from stifled laughter. Silence for a moment as both doubled over: "I look pretty good for a man of 50, huh?" quoth Paul and shimmied his hips.
Later addendum: Another good bit involved a party at which all four guests pretended to be friendly but stood as far apart as possible and barely suppressed looks of disgust for the others. Peter handled the bowl with rubber gloves and tongs after Dan took a nacho. Gradually, it transpired that Dan was infected with SARS, Paul was a white supremacist (!), Peter a child pornographer, and Rick... a Liberal. Paul passed the bowl of nachos around to the audience afterwards--a nice touch, I thought!
I felt the impulse to stay for the meet-and-greet after the show but I reigned it in, subdued it, and left almost immediately in the hope of getting [to my parents'] home before midnight. Had an interesting encounter in Union Station with a young man very embarrassedly begging for money who said he had lost his ticket. Whatever... if a person asks me for money, I usually give them something since I figure most wouldn't go through the humiliation unless they felt they needed it. (I've also had some friends who ended up homeless.) What's unusual is that he insisted on giving me something in return: a picture he drew: "See: it's signed and everything. It's not much, I know. Throw it out when you get home, whatever..."
* * *
Wednesday:
Got up early surprisingly easily, spent far too much time on trains and buses (including a GO Train--ooh! see above) getting back to Kingston. Took a bunch of photos during the trip out of annoyance at myself for bringing the camera along and not using it once during the show.
The Drums had its first unofficial "fife party" (practice) at the music building. It was pretty boring for me because I already know how to play but I think the effort to turn up was appreciated. Once it became evident that I could play the music and word got out that I'm a flute music major (not that I flaunted it, mind!) I was able to offer a couple embouchure hints. (I'm trying my best to remember my rank; I only offer fife help when asked for it.) The Drum Serjeant started referring to me in the same breath as "old boys" (as in, "... will probably play some harmony later in the summer,"), which was nice of him. He also said he thinks the Drums this year have the potential to "kick ass", a nice thing for us all to hear.
While all this cacophony was going on, Dr. S darted by with his head down. No such luck: I hadn't spoken to him in at least a month, so I followed and got his attention just as he was opening the door to go outside. Once he realized who it was (it later occurred to me that the haircut might have given him a bit of a fright), we had a pleasant little chat. He had already planned to visit the Fort some time this summer.
* * *
Thursday: Meanwhile, back at the Fort...
With no warning (because I was off the previous two days), I was required to do things I'd been told I wouldn't have to do until I was properly qualified, i.e. lead a tour and stand sentry. I have yet to finish the tour guide test for the first time, much less pass it, and the Drums rookies have had a grand total of one carbine drill period. I suddenly needed to find someone to lend me an arty tunic for sentry, then my sentry time was changed, then my sentry time was changed again, then I had arty practice (for which forgot my gloves in the fuss and excused myself improperly out of befuddlement), then I gave my first tour.
The tour went okay, especially considering that it was a "Special" for a school group all the way from Pennsylvania... but what with the tour group turning up late, all the sentry shuffling and my poor short-term memory, I mistook the time the tour was to end and was late for sentry. The Captain of the Guard bellowed at me in front of a large crowd of visitors, loud enough for the entire Fort to hear. (Or at least I'm told it sounded like the Captain of the Guard. I was standing at attention with my back to him and they all sound alike to me when they're yelling.) Then I had to be friendly and greet each visitor with a smile. It was not a great morning. I later found out that one is not supposed to be booked for tours and sentry duty on the same day.
The rest of the day was low-key by comparison. The Drum Serjeant felt he also ought to chastise me for being late; he said this during my second sentry stand, for which I was twelve minutes early. I forgot my gloves again when reporting for flag duty but it didn't matter because it turned out that the flag was to be left up that day. Slightly amusingly, I was mistaken for a boy (surely not a man...?) by a panhandler when walking my bike up Princess Street. ("Excuse me sir... ma'am...")
It was my day off, so I took the train to Toronto to see the Frantics again! Words cannot describe how excited I was about this. It was all I could do not to make "ee!" noises when sitting in the Playhouse waiting for the show to begin. Peter came out around 8:35, apologized for the delay but said they really wanted to include another sketch in the show so we would have to wait another 5-10 minutes. At first, I was a tad annoyed but I figured I might as well have a chat with the elderly man who had sat down on my right... and soon I was quite glad of the delay. Here's why: not only was he charming and friendly, but he was also Paul Chato's father.
L (he told me his name but for the sake of his privacy I'll refrain from using it) came to Canada from Hungary in 1949. (He has a slight accent.) Paul's mother lives in Australia so L alternates between Australia and Canada; he gave an entertaining account of his arduous trek to find 56 Blue Jays Way from Union Station. He talked a bit about Paul's career, drifting into theatre/comedy and then to computers. Some of it was stuff I already knew but it was still interesting hearing it first-hand. I was glad to note that he seemed enthusiastic about both of his son's careers. (Thankfully, things have changed since Paul's Jewish relatives refused to attend shows at the German Harmony Club.) When I described how it is that I became interested in the Frantics, we got onto the subject of the internet. L likes using computers a lot because it occupies the time and "They don't talk back!" I was startled to be asked if I plan to be a comedian myself. No, I laughed, I didn't think I could be. And so the topic switched to music. He knows some orchestral musicians in Australia. Paul played the saxophone in school and loved to practice electric guitar at home with the level turned up really high.
As for the actual show, Keith has a pretty good write-up of it here. There was no Dan Redican in drag this time but that didn't stop my sides from aching from laughing so much. As Keith says, their timing is still right on. The new material does tend to be a bit edgier... or perhaps that simply means that certain content wasn't allowed on CBC Radio.
Paul's performance drew special notice at the previous performance because a) I've always thought he was the most versatile performer b) he dropped off the face of the (comedy) earth for 15 years. For obvious reasons (see above), I was noticing Paul even more this time. That man's ability to assume different accents, voices, and mannerisms is incredible. It seems his geeky appearance allows him to pull off pretty risque material (rather like the way Rick's innocent appearance and high pitched voice serve him). If L ever had any objection to his son cussing, pretending to be a woman or gay, or using sexual innuendo, he's gotten over it. For some reason, Paul kept messing up during the show, but he always did so hilariously so we couldn't help but forgive him. First, something made him crack up completely during "Watering the Lawn/Hey Jude" which very nearly threw off everybody else. (See a photo here.) Then during his song as a Raffi-esque children's entertainer ("Earth Raper", about Mommy's and Daddy's SUVs), he suddenly stopped and yelled out, "Oh fuck, I've forgotten it!" and had to dash offstage to get the script. A few minutes later: Woman in the audience: "Don't screw up this time!" Paul: "I'll try not to!"
Now, don't let all this focus on Paul detract from the others at all. One of the funniest sketches (and at the same time most disturbing, of course) was carried off perfectly by Dan, completely solo--no props or sound effects either. His facial expressions and body language have to be the best in the troupe. Picture a man starting out a scene blithely innocent and then gradually realizing that his wife is making arrangements with hit men to have him killed. Peter's scene of a father talking his daughter through her first period over a cell phone on the GO train is an absolute hoot. ("Oh, sweetie! You're growing up! It's your womanly flow!" ..."No, no, honey, wait! The string goes on the outside. Okay, now put your foot up on the toilet...") And of course, good old Rick and his Instant Buddhism routine, and the diseases card game, etc. etc. He's great at coming up with really bizarre characters and making them likeable.
Without suggesting for a moment that they were being smarmily self-indulgent, I loved seeing how much fun they were obviously having. The best ad lib of the night was probably, once again, said by Paul. It was during the hysterical "Every Star Trek Episode in Under 5 Minutes" sketch, a classic (not suitable for radio or TV so I've never heard/seen it) Rick and Paul piece that was performed by request. Rick played Captain Kirk and an enemy space ship and Paul played everyone/everything else--Bones, Scotty, Spock, expendable red shirt, the Enterprise, and Uhura... *snicker*. (Rick played Uhura for a moment too, frighteningly well.) At one point, Paul pulled his shirt up over his head to form the giant mouth of the alien Kretchfoop. After some vigorous mouth puppeteering from Paul while exposed from armpits to waist, it was Rick's turn to corpse from stifled laughter. Silence for a moment as both doubled over: "I look pretty good for a man of 50, huh?" quoth Paul and shimmied his hips.
Later addendum: Another good bit involved a party at which all four guests pretended to be friendly but stood as far apart as possible and barely suppressed looks of disgust for the others. Peter handled the bowl with rubber gloves and tongs after Dan took a nacho. Gradually, it transpired that Dan was infected with SARS, Paul was a white supremacist (!), Peter a child pornographer, and Rick... a Liberal. Paul passed the bowl of nachos around to the audience afterwards--a nice touch, I thought!
I felt the impulse to stay for the meet-and-greet after the show but I reigned it in, subdued it, and left almost immediately in the hope of getting [to my parents'] home before midnight. Had an interesting encounter in Union Station with a young man very embarrassedly begging for money who said he had lost his ticket. Whatever... if a person asks me for money, I usually give them something since I figure most wouldn't go through the humiliation unless they felt they needed it. (I've also had some friends who ended up homeless.) What's unusual is that he insisted on giving me something in return: a picture he drew: "See: it's signed and everything. It's not much, I know. Throw it out when you get home, whatever..."
Wednesday:
Got up early surprisingly easily, spent far too much time on trains and buses (including a GO Train--ooh! see above) getting back to Kingston. Took a bunch of photos during the trip out of annoyance at myself for bringing the camera along and not using it once during the show.
The Drums had its first unofficial "fife party" (practice) at the music building. It was pretty boring for me because I already know how to play but I think the effort to turn up was appreciated. Once it became evident that I could play the music and word got out that I'm a flute music major (not that I flaunted it, mind!) I was able to offer a couple embouchure hints. (I'm trying my best to remember my rank; I only offer fife help when asked for it.) The Drum Serjeant started referring to me in the same breath as "old boys" (as in, "... will probably play some harmony later in the summer,"), which was nice of him. He also said he thinks the Drums this year have the potential to "kick ass", a nice thing for us all to hear.
While all this cacophony was going on, Dr. S darted by with his head down. No such luck: I hadn't spoken to him in at least a month, so I followed and got his attention just as he was opening the door to go outside. Once he realized who it was (it later occurred to me that the haircut might have given him a bit of a fright), we had a pleasant little chat. He had already planned to visit the Fort some time this summer.
Thursday: Meanwhile, back at the Fort...
With no warning (because I was off the previous two days), I was required to do things I'd been told I wouldn't have to do until I was properly qualified, i.e. lead a tour and stand sentry. I have yet to finish the tour guide test for the first time, much less pass it, and the Drums rookies have had a grand total of one carbine drill period. I suddenly needed to find someone to lend me an arty tunic for sentry, then my sentry time was changed, then my sentry time was changed again, then I had arty practice (for which forgot my gloves in the fuss and excused myself improperly out of befuddlement), then I gave my first tour.
The tour went okay, especially considering that it was a "Special" for a school group all the way from Pennsylvania... but what with the tour group turning up late, all the sentry shuffling and my poor short-term memory, I mistook the time the tour was to end and was late for sentry. The Captain of the Guard bellowed at me in front of a large crowd of visitors, loud enough for the entire Fort to hear. (Or at least I'm told it sounded like the Captain of the Guard. I was standing at attention with my back to him and they all sound alike to me when they're yelling.) Then I had to be friendly and greet each visitor with a smile. It was not a great morning. I later found out that one is not supposed to be booked for tours and sentry duty on the same day.
The rest of the day was low-key by comparison. The Drum Serjeant felt he also ought to chastise me for being late; he said this during my second sentry stand, for which I was twelve minutes early. I forgot my gloves again when reporting for flag duty but it didn't matter because it turned out that the flag was to be left up that day. Slightly amusingly, I was mistaken for a boy (surely not a man...?) by a panhandler when walking my bike up Princess Street. ("Excuse me sir... ma'am...")
