Opening Nights

Last night, when The Great Plotnik saw Theresa Rebeck's "Mauritius" at the Magic Theatre, he was reminded that there are only a few days left in the run. Usually, reviewers see a show on Opening Night, which is also Press Night, when the actors are pumping energy. They may not have all their lines and moves and inflections down perfectly yet, but they know this is the make-or-break night of the run and an audience will never see better acting.

Plot has been there of course. Once, he was the replacement piano player with the band Big Daddy on a tour of Australia. He had been rehearsing for weeks, but had many cues to remember and parts to play on which the other band members were depending. He was scared stiff on Opening Night, but also flying on adrenaline. The show was terrific -- Plot didn't play as well as he would a few weeks later in the run, but the band was smoking and the reviewers were stoked. Or drunk: it's Australia, after all. Probably drunk AND stoked.

Back to last night's performance of Mauritius. The Plotniks had been in Brooklyn when the show opened and received rave reviews. But last night it felt tired -- one of those things you can't really pinpoint. The gears didn't seem to mesh. The bad guys were not very bad -- the chief bad guy sometimes spoke like Hamlet and sometimes like Paulie Walnuts. 'Mauritius' has gotten fabulous reviews, including a rave by the BirdWrap and both sides of the Mushnik/Billnik organization. So Plotnik is scratching his head. It must have been the acting. Or the mistletoe. Something.

Meanwhile, the datura are in full bloom and their perfume is matchless. The Great Meatball Kitchen smells like paradise.

You can read the San Francisco Theater Blog review of Mauritius here, but it smells somewhat less sweet than the datura.