So Much to say, Part II

Then the review came out.

Now, I've been around a while. There's not as much spring in my chicken as once there was, and I know better than to hang my emotions on something as ephemeral and full of sound and fury as a review. Reviewers have their own baggage and opinions (I know, since I also work as a theatre reviewer); and they often have their own agendas, as well (something I truly try not to have when I write a review). The only measure a performer should embrace should be audience.

But. But......For this one, I found myself really anticipating the review. I even wrote some of it in my head, extolling the virtues of this marvelous cast in general and of Ted in particular; and calling attention to the fact that, in doing this role and managing the technical design of the show, Ted had achieved herculean levels of dedication and excellence. I couldn't wait to get the review -- I planned on framing it, so my children could have it as a keepsake and remembrance of their father's moment.

Then the review came out.

The review said the cast lacked "oomph"; mentioned some technical issues (of which, by the way, there really were none) that he hoped would be resolved as the show went on; complimented the actor playing Sancho while mentioning that he was a weak singer (which juuuuust might have been because he was using a character voice (the actor playing Sancho is actually quite an accomplished singer (and frankly, if Sancho came out singing like one of the 'three tenors', it would be disengaging at best, if not downright disconcerting))). He did not mention the set or any of the technical design at all.

And the only comments he made about me (the titular lead of the show) were that I had a strong voice but performed it as a caricature. He did say I got a little better as the performance went on. That's it.

Oh, and he spent an entire paragraph mentioning that I sang the most well-known song from the show ("The Impossible Dream"), and that Jack Jones had had a hit with it in 1965. He spent another whole paragraph mentioning that I had big shoes to fill in this role, the role having been played on Broadway by the likes of Richard Kiley, Jose Ferrer, Brian Stokes, and others. His implication, of course, being that I didn't actually fill said shoes.

What Jack Jones, Brian Stokes, et al had to do with the performance of "Man of La Mancha" in Strongsville, Ohio eludes me still.

But questionable comments (and ethics) in the review aside, I couldn't make myself not take it to heart. You can hear all the nice comments in the world from your friends, but by definition, they're your friends. This was going to be the only (theoretically) objective review I was gonna get...and I was found WAY lacking. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

A lot.

It, at first, stole all of the joy from the performance from me. My confidence in the performance went from 99 to 0. I felt that I had only been kidding myself; that I really wasn't any good in the role and that my technical design was so pedestrian as not to deserve mention.

And I had to go out on stage and do it again in 3 hours.