Yeah, I remember hearing something about Reel Big Fish.
And I ended up here because there's no such thing as a Folkhighschool. The only place you can find stuff like this is in Norway, and the life direction that would be most likely be most beneficial to me was going to a Folkehøyskole. There's no US equivalent to this kind of school.
Real shame, too. Great system.
Anyways, I supposed I should probably get around to telling you louts about how the Elevkveld went yesterday evening.
I can sum it up in one word-ish thing: Smashingly.
Dinner was quite good (the choice of food plays a remarkably big role in how well the evening works), and the costumes were either relatively easy to procure or highly creative.
Speaking of the costumes, every class was assigned a musical that they were supposed to take after in their dress (I've probably mentioned this before, but can't be arsed to go back and check). Before the evening's festivities, each class was called up to the collective room so that a full class picture could be taken of them in their costumed glory.
No, not Grease. We Will Rock You. The fact that we were almost coordinated in our garb is pure happenstance. I don't think any of us have actually seen We Will Rock You, so finding a costume beyond "generic rocker" was not a particularly viable option.
I believe I should mention that my shades (which I of course *had* to put on as part of the outfit) fell on the floor and went splat yet again. The glue used to fix them last time was apparently not meant to last under conditions of, y'know, use.
Since it's the frame that snapped, I can't get the other lens to stay in. Strangely enough, the one-lens look is not quite as dopey as I had expected to be. In fact, I think it just makes me look even more psycho than usual.
Yes, that is the unholy sacrilege of a mirrored photo. However, I plead mercy on account of my cellphone not even
having a photo timer that I could spend time and energy on learning how to use. Plus, the photoapparatus is not included in the shot.
The mirror's actually clean, by the way. It's all the stuff that's attached itself to the mirror that's dirty.
Anyways, once the food had been dispensed with, and after a short last-minute practice and readying period, the show was totally on.
People were let into the performance hall and treated to cups filled with popcorn (again, showtime snacks play a very important role, and popcorn is highly appreciated), all while Jesus and two faithful followers stood on stage (yes, we were there the whole time people were being let in. "Just look down, and try to keep a straight face" was the personal mantra of all three). Once everyone was seated, the music started and I began my messiah-walk to the front of the stage. A rather short and undemanding performance, but hey, it works.
That kicked off the whole deal, with one musical reenactment after the other. Next up for us was when Grease rolled around, where the F&TV boys went out with slicked hair and tight white t-shirts with the sleeves rolled up. We performed in an almost coordinated fashion, and managed to pull off the whole thing quite well. People were howling when we first came out on stage, and they were applauding heavily when we went back behind the curtains.
We were allowed a brief period of rest and preparation while one of the movies was shown (the drug reference scene did not induce heavy laughter or comprehension, but I did hear a couple delayed chuckles. Not bad for something put together at that hour of the night), after which was a rather demanding scene for the Clothing gals. A reenactment of a scene from Cats.
This was a long-rehearsed production, and it went off quite well, especially considering that three of the six gals performing wanted nothing to do with being onstage. Or in front of people. At all.
Especially while wearing cat ears and a tail.
The scene, and its music, was interrupted by the Baja Men hit "Who Let the Dogs Out". When this was put on, the Film boys leapt out onto the scene with their equally ridiculous costumes (snouts made from painting paper cups and attaching an elastic band, and canvas ears and tail), whereupon they did their dog dance for all those watching. Again, entered with howls, left with applause. A good combination.
One of the true shining moments of the evening, however, was when one of the guys from F&TV went up to give the solo performance that he had specifically been picked out for long ago. A role so truly beautiful and perfect that it instills a sense of awe in those who witness it.
He had been picked out to be the Little Mermaid. He would enact an altered version of one of the scenes from that film.
Here's the link to the YouTube video that spawned the original idea. The lyrics were later translated into Norwegian and handed off to this guy, who proceeded to rewrite the whole thing (and, frankly, with much better lyrics). He later recorded it in the sound studio.
For the performance, all he had to do was go out on stage and mime along to his own voice. Of course, an appropriate costume would be required.
The crab was not part of the original plan, but hell and high water if they could keep him out of it. He actually played a very strong supporting role, waddling around on stage and snapping his pincer-fingers together at rates that varied depending on the tension in the song. The chemistry was simply amazing.
There was another, tertiary role as well. At some point during the latter half of the song, John Smith, dressed as a cake, floated gracefully across the back of the stage. He later came back and acted as a full third part of the cast, dancing along with the crab in order to support the mermaid's singing and demonstrative gestures.
Yes, a cake. Why? Very good question. I will try to explain.
During the planning stages, he had requested a role as the fish. The Clothing gals said great, but find your own costume. Earlier that night, he had stealthily infiltrated the costume depository in order to find something slightly fishy to wear. He picked up what he thought was a skirt or something that would work as a set of fins, and quickly confiscated it.
Later, upon closer examination of his prize, it turned out to be a giant cake that covered him completely. Not having enough time to go looking for a new costume, he worked with what he had.
The utter absurdity of a floating cake appearing in the middle of an underwater fantasy song about sexual frustration pulled quite a few confused laughs from the audience. Hell, from the crew. We had no idea he was going to run out on stage as a cake until he did.
Naturally, being the highly professional actors that they were, the crab and mermaid acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. I don't know if I would have been able to hold so straight a face if I was singing about how I wanted a vagina while a perverted crab and a giant cake danced behind me.
There was also a period where all the class pictures that had been taken earlier were shown for all to see. After that, the awards for best man, best woman, and best class were handed out. Best man was, naturally, the helper sex idol, who was clad in a cardboard box covered with aluminum foil and who had put a funnel on his head (the Tin Man, from Wizard of Oz. Just in case you didn't quite catch it). Actually not one of his worse costumes.
Some more highly appreciated dance numbers followed, along with the last of the films (I really should've tweaked the sound on one of those... The clanging pots and pans were dreadfully loud). The final film merged into the final dance number, at the end of which everyone was wished a good night.
A great success, I must say. One of the teachers complimented me by saying she never knew I was such a good dancer. Considering the movements I had enacted on the stage and the motherly, always-positive demeanor of this particular teacher, the comment was put into suspicion as to its accuracy.
However, the Jesus jokes were quite called for. Hell, I probably made most of them. Someone says "Jesus Christ!" as a statement of emphasis or a profanity, and I answer. Simple as that.
I've been working on something related to "The Second Coming", but have decided to keep my mouth shut about that.
When we were backstage and I was putting on my
sheetcostume, I bent down to look into the makeup mirror and see if I had managed to successfully put on a piece of cloth. I then noticed that, with my arms spread wide and my head bent low in relation to my shoulders, I look seriously freaky when wearing that thing.
It was then that John Smith came in to grease his hair up. I turned to him, arms outstretched and head lowered, and initiated this exchange:
Me: "I AM YOUR SAVIOUR!"
Him: "Whoops"
It seemed to be the most appropriate thing he could have said in response to that.
So that was that. Today, I had a rock seminar. This was essentially just watching clips from the Monterey Pop festival and Woodstock, as well as a music quiz wherein he played some songs with some of the guys from Music, and we were supposed to list the genre of each. I was originally supposed to be part of this, providing Flamenco-ish stuff to the mix, but apparently acoustic sound was too difficult to set up properly on the stage so it got dropped.
This medley of songs, which they had roughly half an hour to practice, included the strangest rendition of "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" I have ever heard. This was due to a microphone which had been accidentally given a really nifty sound distortion, and a drummer who honestly can't play anything slower than Back In Black. Actually, I don't know if he can play that either.
This rock seminar was, naturally, presided over by the philosophy teacher. As such, I got to hear directly from him that he received my message, and that everything would be sorted out. He would just have to think up a suitable role for me.
Considering the words "American vampire from the 18th century" were mentioned, I think I'm in for one hell of a ride.
Woohoo. Every now and then I just have to sit back and laugh at all the truly insane stuff I get myself into. I hope you do too.
Author
Topic: Sandy Fjord (Read 96323 times)