Sis. Koom. Bah.

Saturday was "The Sparrow" at the Viaduct by the House Theatre. I actually purchased and paid for a ticket, because after a year or so of reviewing the House's story-driven spectaculars, I got too damn friendly with them. Buying a ticket absolves me from reviewing their shows in any official capacity, so I won't do it here either.

Instead, a lecture. People say that House shows, which are full of grand plots, action, fantasy and science fiction, bring young audiences in by emulating movies. This is crazy talk. The shows work because they're totally rooted in what you can do on stage. Almost every bit of spectacle, whether it's a nuclear explosion or a flying girl, does three things at once. First, it delights the senses in and of itself. Second, it lets you know that something big is happening in the plot. Third, it delights your head by letting you see the bones of the magic trick. And there's always great music.

"The Sparrow" is about a superhero cheerleader, kind of a Carrie smashed into Jean Grey with a sprinkle of Buffy. When a TV show trots out a superhero cheerleader, I roll my eyes. I know it's just an excuse to put actresses in outfits. When I heard about the House's superhero cheerleader, I jumped on my toes, because I knew I was going to see actresses do cheer routines. In outfits. Hollywood will not let you watch a dance sequence in a movie, unless said movie climaxes at a Big Competition, and I'm getting mighty tired of that story. Not that I'm knocking the big and little screens. They do many things well. Theatre just does some other things better.


2006-in-review later today, I promise.