As an audience member, I have always thought that giving a standing ovation at the theater is a rare gift reserved for those sock-in-the gut productions that are truly transformative and utterly unforgettable, which come once in a blue moon. It’s not to say I don’t show enthusiastic appreciation for the work and the artists - as my blog readers who’ve gone with me to the theater know, I heartily applaud a good part of the time and have been known to emit that occasional cheer and guttural whoa. Theater artists work hard and they deserve all the recognition and positive feedback they can get. But a standing ovation at the end of a show shouldn’t, in my view, be taken lightly, it should be dispensed only when the production is a true masterpiece. You wouldn’t serve a 1978 Montrachet at a girl’s wine and mani-pedi night out; you’d reserve it for the truly special occasions, like your husband or life partner getting promoted to CEO (amidst visions of that future villa in Lake Como so within your reach). So I am a little perturbed by this noticeably increasing trend (not as bad here in Chicago as it is on Broadway, discussed ad nauseam in theater geek chat rooms such as Talkin’Broadway.com’s All that Chat) of people getting up on their feet wildly, as if they’re in a mosh pit, for even the slightest, though enjoyable, stage trifle.
Earlier this week, I was at a performance of the Chicago Shakespeare Theater’s season-opener, Amadeus. I thought it was a good production, with top-notch performances from New York actor Robbie Collier Sublett (who performs with The Civilians) as Mozart and Elizabeth Ledo as his wife. But it was absolutely not standing-ovation worthy (I’ll post my complete impressions after it opens this weekend). So I was quite appalled when I saw not one, not two, but dozens of people, almost the entire theater stand up at the end of the show. And I have seen this happen quite a bit over the past several months. Why? Was it peer pressure, because everyone had stood up and you would look like an uncouth, ignorant jerk if you remained seated? Was it purely practical because if you didn’t stand you’d have to suffer looking at someone’s droopy bum while the actors took their bows? Did people feel that they had to stand up to show how cultured and sophisticated they were, that they appreciated “high art” ? (Although I’ve really enjoyed the movie and have watched it a couple of times, reveling in its delicious ironies, cattiness, and rivalries, I wouldn’t call Amadeus high art. It’s very richly and vividly written but at times it does come off as a more intellectual episode of Real Housewives of New York City, without the housewives, with many middle-aged men modeling a procession of wigs, and with a gorgeous classical music score). Or in these tough times, when going to the theater is becoming more and more of a luxury, was the standing ovation a defiant expression of “dammit, I paid 40 bucks each for the tickets, 20 bucks for the parking, 40 bucks for the babysitter, and 85 bucks for a dinner for two before the show, and I need to convince myself that I really, really enjoyed it, and I did! Because I am standing up applauding excitedly!” Or most disturbingly of all, could people not really be seeing a lot of theater, and therefore could not discern the good from the great, the merely serviceable from the sublime, the journeyman work from the genius effortlessness, the Salieri from the Mozart?
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