Last night I walked over to the Cougar Eat to grab some dinner before the show and a woman stopped me on the sidewalk and asked me if I had played the part of Wickham in Pride and Prejudice the night before. I answered, “Yes,” and waited politely for her to tell me how much she had enjoyed my performance.
Instead, she gushed:
That girl who played Lizzie had such a beautiful voice. I loved her! She’s so talented…
…and went on, at great length, about how much she had enjoyed this other person’s performance.
Later, as I was waiting for my food, I was approached by another woman who asked me, again, if I had played Wickham. I again answered in the affirmative, and, again, waited politely for the praise that was sure to follow.
Instead, she effused:
That woman who played Mrs. Bennet was hilarious! She was so good! I was just telling my husband how much I enjoyed her performance…
…and, again, went on, at great length, about how good this other person had been.
I assured her that I would convey her compliment to the third party and then raised my eyebrows expectantly, as if to say, “Is there anyone else that you can think of whose performance last night might be worthy of mention?”
Apparently not, because she just thanked me and walked away.
23 Comments
If you were truly effective as Wickham, it may be hard for people to come up and say, “Ooh, I hated you! You were absolutely despicable.”
If you were truly effective as Wickham, it may be hard for people to come up and say, “Ooh, I hated you! You were absolutely despicable.”
Honestly, I have not seen this production but I can say without a doubt that you are AMAZING in it!
Lael: In general, women usually have no trouble letting me know how much they hate me.
Brian: But should I be concerned that my best reviews are coming from people who haven’t seen the show?
These people subconsciously are passing on the fact that the show, IN ITS ENTIRETY, would fail without your aura, your progeny, and your wicked fine acting. And, because they are women they find your wicked fine acting (and the fact that you are play a ROGUE) sexy. And they are married, so they suppress this.
It’s simple, really.
I SAW the show, and yes, you were fantastic.
p.s. I have been in the same situation before. As in…with every play I’ve ever been in (with the exception of my dramatic debut in my third grade production of Delbert the Dinosaur).
Kate: You are right, I’m sure. I guess I just have a hard time reading women…and books…and books about women.
Emily: I think I saw that production of Delbert the Dinosaur. That boy who played Delbert was great! I cried when he learned his lesson about cleaning his room! I still get goosebumps when I think about it…
You were in that?
Kate: You are right, I’m sure. I guess I just have a hard time reading women…and books…and books about women.
Emily: I think I saw that production of Delbert the Dinosaur. That boy who played Delbert was great! I cried when he learned his lesson about cleaning his room! I still get goosebumps when I think about it…
You were in that?
Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! Mr. Wickham! My wife and I enjoyed the musical last night. You sang your parts well, after the show was over we felt Wickham was a snake for running off with the Bennett girl. The most surprising character was Matt Christensen’s playing the part of Mr. Collins.
*sigh*
Ha ha – “books about women” – says the preeminent Nurse Book collector.
I’m not sure why I bother. Nor am I sure exactly why I decided “wicked fine” was the perfect combination of adjectives to describe your acting prowess (nevertheless, I stand by that one).
If you actually took anything I said to heart (or any of the other copious, adoring compliments continually coming your way) you’d be unbearably conceited, arrogant and narcissistic. At least that’s what I tell myself.
Well, I was in your fair city during the performance, but alas it was not my fate to see you or the production. I can say, I must agree heartily with Kate. Women deflect so as not to let on the true nature of their exuberance. I must say there is a long line of women keeping your performance close to heart, a lady must never let on her true feelings!
My parents commented on how convincing Wickham was.
And, as for surprising, mr.Collins was too fat!
Matt, one more comment like that and I’ll paddle you with a hairbrush! Don’t test me—- I’m not to be trifled with.
Grettir: May I be the first to assure you that the complimenters in question are communists. Both of them. There is no other explanation for their unwillingness to acknowledge the magnitude and majesty of your performance. Were they of the freedom-loving democratic sort, they–like us–would characterize your Mr. Wickham as TTTOOOTTTAAALLLYYY WICKHED AWESOME. ‘Nuff said.
Grettir: May I be the first to assure you that the complimenters in question are communists. Both of them. There is no other explanation for their unwillingness to acknowledge the magnitude and majesty of your performance. Were they of the freedom-loving democratic sort, they–like us–would characterize your Mr. Wickham as TTTOOOTTTAAALLLYYY WICKHED AWESOME. ‘Nuff said.
I agree with all of the above. Your performance was so mesmerizing, so powerful, so convincing, that they were afraid to even make eye contact with you–let alone compliment you–for fear of falling under your magnetic spell and, like Lydia, start intoning “Take me to Gretna Green, where a girl becomes a woman overNIIIIIIGGGGGHHHHHHT! Take me to Gretna Green! Take me! Take me! . . .”
…which would prove more than a little awkward when Woman #1′s flabbergasted husband LaMont returns from a Jamba Juice run to find his wife of 26 years skipping about the CougarEat with abandon, singing about “skin that’s soft, and warmth instead of cold,” and a place where “giving of yourself is never wrong.”
All this, and not 10 minutes after leaving a class called: “The Primary Worker: No Greater Example For Tomorrow’s Gospel Warriors.”
I just finished re-reading “Franny & Zooey”…mostly because it was on the “Librarian’s Favorites” shelf (with the librarian’s picture displayed next to the book), and I was really curious to figure out why a male librarian with a bowl haircut and a stunned look would want me to read “Franny & Zooey.” So anyway (I’m channeling Kate here), when I got to the end I was really mad about having wasted 202 pages worth of time. HOWEVER, I must say–and this is a compliment, in case you’re wondering–that Grettir & siblings remind me of the brilliant Glass children in the book. Everyone in Grettir’s family is unfairly witty and amusing. My gosh, “The Primary Worker: No Greater Example for Tomorrow’s Gospel Warriors.” Who thinks of that? Y’all are brilliant. Carry on!
Oh, Pam. You must never pull a book off the “Librarians’ Favorites” shelf. The last offering I attempted was Pemberley: Or Pride and Prejudice Continued, which features Jan Brady as Elizabeth Bennett (“Darcy! Darcy! Darcy!”).
You can literally pinpoint the page at which Ms. Emma Tennant decided, “Oh POO! St. Martin’s has already mailed my advance and my carpal tunnel is throbbing like the you-know-what. I think I’ll condense the last 89 pages of my outline into 10 pages of text.”
I defy anyone to read the last chapter without laughing out loud. It is soooooooooo bad.
I was going to leave a witty-type comeback for EVERYBODY, but this monitor gives me vertigo. Seriously. And it’s worse because I’m not wearing my glasses. It’s a little psychedelic – and NOT in a nice way.
Hmm. I’ll just say this:
I don’t suspect that I’m to be flattered that you’re “channeling me” with the random conjunction and the run-on sentence, but if you MUST, the phrase is, “Anyhoo.”
That’s it. I think I’ll go hurl now.
I was going to leave a witty-type comeback for EVERYBODY, but this monitor gives me vertigo. Seriously. And it’s worse because I’m not wearing my glasses. It’s a little psychedelic – and NOT in a nice way.
Hmm. I’ll just say this:
I don’t suspect that I’m to be flattered that you’re “channeling me” with the random conjunction and the run-on sentence, but if you MUST, the phrase is, “Anyhoo.”
That’s it. I think I’ll go hurl now.
Oh, Grettir. I’m so embarassed to tell you that I was the one who played Delbert. Yes. My first role was as a male stegasaurus.
This is my shame.
This post was tooooo funny! Thanks for the chuckle. It would be so much fun to see “Pride and Prejudice” on the stage! How totally cool to be a part of it. I just LOVED Colin Firth…Sorry, I couldn’t resist…LOL!