Once upon a time, my mom, Babs, sent this email to my sister and me (click to enlarge):
After you get over Babs’ adorable italics, you’re probably feeling appalled. Or at the very least, wary. But that’s a perfectly good waste of emotional energy. You should consider saving your disgust for things like global warming. Or cicadas.
Oh yes. I’ve read 50 Shades of Grey, and the only thing I’m ashamed of is not making it through more than half of the trilogy before growing tired of Christian and Ana’s antics (or, rather, the author using ten words when only one was needed [usually "Ouch!"]).
In other words, I was totally game for
the blogging potential Spank!
If you think a 50 Shades of Grey theatrical parody might go over well with the more, ah, age-advanced female crowd, you’re right. It was part musical, part striptease, part insanely impressive revenue-generator, thanks to the 50
Shades year old contingent.
There were only 3 cast members (to which I attribute much of its money-making potential): The author and the male and female leads. The author stood in as a couple of other characters, but mostly narrated the play as the dramatically under-sexed E.L. James.
The actor playing Christian was an understudy with vocal and guitar chops that only his abs could rival. Babs and my sister weren’t as impressed with the actress playing Ana, but I think they’re being unfair. A character so complex and riveting, well, even Meryl Streep would have struggled.
They had some audience interaction, wine with straws, and, all in all, a pretty funny script.
The only fail of the night was when my sister and I heard the word, “No.” We desperately wanted a picture with the woman selling t-shirts, because her shirt was one-of-a-kind, and also because there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you chipmunks. She politely declined, embarrassed.
So I thought I’d recreate the t-shirt here. You’re welcome.
Do you have a favorite play? Anything you want to get off your chest? Like how many times you’ve really read 50 Shades?