Night you can't remember

My Mom is here, my Mom is here!

She got in on Thursday, and we spent much of Yom Kippur in the Arb. This is a trend for me. We chilled in the stone circle, we walked around the reservoirs, we talked.

It was a strange call-back to my freshman year. Tom had a tradition of going hiking with his Dad on Yom Kippur. After Services, he and some friends went off to the Arb; I ran into them on the way. It was a gorgeous day, the sun was amazingly bright and the air seemed impossibly clear. All of my friends were in formal wear, looking dapper and official. We sang off in the woods, both jewish tunes (that I didn't know) and standards (that I did, like Origin of Love).

I remember singing in the river. I remember being nervous.
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My Mom and I don't see eye-to-eye on absolutely everything, but otherwise, we do good. We've had a lot of long chats. My Mom often gives me the good prudent advice I don't take (think, do things slowly). Thinking, prudence and acting in moderation are not my strong suits. They serve their place in my more professional life, but in my social life, I swing towards effusive. I'm trying to think. I'm trying to plan. To plot. To play.

We saw the Shape of Things together, before rushing off to Techno Night.


Mom: I don't really like Neil LaBute. Is one of your friends in it?
Aries: Anna. She's the director and she's really good.
Mom: So she owns the play, more or less. It's all her.


Shape of Things was excellent- I loved the set, lights, staging and acting. All the characters rang true, in their own strange way.

But the script itself wasn't really my thing- there weren't really any lines I'd say I'd recall, independent of their staging. The characters, though played realistically, were all one-sided. Outside of the storyline, they didn't seem to have lives. The characters seemed to be written in their late 20's, not college age. The double-date scene looks like something talking about young marriage, not a scene from a small Midwestern college in a smaller Midwest town. There are no papers due, there are no sports games, no outside world, no ephemera.

I think that made the actors and directing look even better. The fact that I still felt for these characters who were otherwise... unbelievable... that was good. I didn't write off Adam as a shlub because Donny reminded me (and the audience) that we've all been there, been Mr. Pathetic In Love, Willing to be your Anything. Evelyn was stone-cold... and sexy. There was never a point when I didn't understand Adam's fascination with her, even if I didn't share it. Jenny's sweetness, her awkward, silly averageness were elevated; Phil's assholishness was rooted in jealousy. It was well done. And I love to watch my friends, my peers act. There's a recognition of "oh, you're my friend, I trust you!" when they move on stage. Donny's a skilled actor; he's damn good. But I know that on a certain level, I always love his characters a bit more because it's him playing them.

The set. The museum lights. Oh, god.

The final scene... I could have done more with the clinical. The concept of base material gave me shivers, but I wanted a bit more. The ideas of modification, of shaping, of how ones' love changes another are of intense interest to me. The use of sex and sensuality as tools are not lost thoughts for me, nor the sad, desperate inferiority of the beloved to the lover. I'm a fan of the ideas, but the way LaBute executed it... I don't know. There are more profound and terrifying ways that love changes people.

I'll remember the bedroom scene for a long time. Dammit, Anna Strasser. Dammit. You kill me.