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Lone
Wolf
Howl:
MUSINGS ON A CHRISTMAS CAROL – PART THREE
for the Cochrane Times — I took Rosie and Sara to see the play last Friday night; a full two weeks after it had opened, after I had seen it last.Strange to revisit a show after a fortnight, having watched it come to life for 40 days, after having seen it at least a dozen times, day after day, night after night. Like visiting your child after they’re all grown up, you’re eager to see your own fingerprints on what is working with them, to feel that rush of satisfaction at having contributed to something wonderful in the world. The three of us stopped for sodas and sandwiches before the show, sunk our teeth into ice-cream bars during intermission (Rosie almost losing one of hers that hung loose and crooked all weekend), and toured backstage after the show, standing on deck before the London city-scape, staring out at the 750 empty seats in the house. A child, a teenager, and an adult, getting all dressed up to attend the theatre. As the play unfolds and we are sucked into Dickens’ world, the adult wishes he were a kid again and the teen longs to be an adult. It is only the child who remains true to who she is, not wanting anything other than what is before her, wishing herself to be nowhere but where she is. She laughs at the funny bits, digs her fingers into my arm during the scary bits, and sits still as a stone with wide and wild eyes during the magical bits. Near the end of the show, after Scrooge has been duly transformed and redeemed by his visits from the spirits three, he stands in his underwear on stage, about to get dressed, and tries to come to grips with the renaissance he has undergone: "I don’t know what day of month it is or how long I’ve been among the spirits. I don’t know anything. I’m a baby! Never mind, I don’t care. I’d rather be a baby." Rosie giggled (like the six year-old she is) and continued to giggle about it well into the next scene, and I found myself a new favourite moment in the show. What a great gift. To be a baby again. To have the inquisitiveness and energy of a child coupled with the means of an adult. Imagine the possibilities that can come about by such a combination! There would be no issue with Pointe of View and the trailer court, because to move people off the land to make way for other people to live there just isn’t fair. There would be no debate about the development of the Domtar site, because big box stores and parking lots are ugly and no fun at all. We’d put in a new swimming pool with waves and water slides, a petting zoo and a playground, a concert hall and a theatre. There are many so-called great advancements in society that hasten the end of childhood (all in the name of ‘we know what’s best for you’), but few sustain it like art and play. When was the last time you heard an adult complain about having been exposed to music or theatre too much as a child? How many of your friends or colleagues spend time on the therapist’s couch trying to untangle the psychiatric mess left behind from playing too much or too long or too early? I’ve never met one. Not one who wishes he had captured fewer flags in a field or kicked fewer cans down the street; not one who wishes she were read to less. Before you lay down the credit card these last few days, consider giving the gift of art this Christmas. Not just to your kids, but to your spouse, your lover, your parents, your grandparents. Give it to your friendly neighbourhood town council (they really need it bad). Play a new kind of Santa Claus this year: open your eyes wild and wide and make someone feel like a child again. (www.lonewolftheatre.com) Back to Resources Page |