#i kinda wanna clip some parts of his interview cause he was very cute and happy and silly today hehehe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saleintothe90s · 3 years

Text

422. ”Carrie” (May 12 - May 15 1988)

I adore reading about flops. One of my favorite flops to read about is Carrie the musical. A doomed production from the start. Millions of dollars wasted. Bad costumes. Filler songs.

Similar to my Simpsons season 10 review, I wanna give something to the worst aspects of the show. With Simpsons, bad episodes were awarded Marge’s homemade Pepsi. For Carrie, I think I’m going to give the bad parts the “Vending Machine Maxi Pad” award.

As most anybody who follows Broadway flops knows, clips from Carrie are scarce and are in poor condition on YouTube. Most of the actual clips are from when the show was in test productions in Stratford Upon Avon, but the music has been replaced with the Broadway soundboard. So, keep that in mind. Most of the time you can’t even make out what’s going on. Here’s the closest copy of the entire show I could find on YouTube, from the Sratford Upon Avon production.

I know people bash the musical, and sometimes it’s rightfully so, but two things are consistent: Linzi Hateley who played Carrie, and that orchestra that is on.point. Check out the overture.

(source)

The show begins with girls cheering in gym class in the beginning of an aerobics lesson? The white gym shorts look like diapers. That’s the first of many costume mistakes.

The song is a banger, I love Darlene Love playing the gym teacher, she’s my favorite part of the song. The only part that is cringey to me is when the girls sing “I go CrAzZyyyyy” and they get on the ground and dance like a toddler having a temper tantrum in a Toys R Us. Since the audio quality is so bad in these clips, I thought at one point the girls were singing about not being caught picking their nose, no, the lyric is:

Bought the clothes, did my nose,

Near the end of the song, the girls are on these rising rafters? It took me for-ever to realize that they were simulating a cheerleader pyramid, and that Carrie had snuck in near the end of the number to be on the bottom of the pyramid. Oh, and she causes it to fall and someone tells her to eat shit.

“Dream On” is the song that the girls sing while in the showers. Why yes, it does look like they’re in the nude due to the poor quality of the video. The song is ok, it gives total night driving home from the mall in the late 80s early 90s vibes. Although one girl says the line, “Six foot three and he's in his forties!”. WHAT.

Carrie breaks those vibes at around 3:44 by screaming that she’s bleeding. When Miss Gardener slaps Carrie, a cymbal plays. I love it.

I like to imagine that when the girls threw the tampons and pads at Carrie, some flew into the audience.

“Carrie” is shrill at first, and then it turns into a bit of snoozefest. Linzi sings the name “Carrie” about 458 times.

Betty Buckley who previously had played the original Grizabella in Cats. and who played the gym teacher in the original movie plays Carrie’s mom. Her song, “Open Your Heart” is pretty good. It’s a nice little break before mom goes bottoms up on Carrie for getting her period (”And Eve Was Weak” [Stratford version with Barbara Cook]):

Carrie: I was in the shower and...

Mom: You’re forbidden from showering with the other girls...

Carrie: I started to bleed!

While Carrie spends the rest of the night in a cellar, the popular girls are at the drive-in. Now, this musical cost over $7 million dollars 1, but yet this was the best set they could think of for a drive-in movie theater:

It looks like something out of a high school play -- which I guess makes a little sense since they are high schoolers? I’m grabbing at straws here. It cost so much money to put Carrie on, what’s a few more dollars to have two real hollowed out cars on stage, one with Chris (in the red) & Billy (in black) in it, and the other with Sue (pink leggings) and Tommy (purple windbreaker)?

“Don’t Waste the Moon” is the song sung at the drive-in, with Sue having regrets about throwing tampons at Carrie in the beginning of the song. The song is very 1980s, and it kind of doesn’t fit in the musical. Gene Anthony Ray’s (Billy) talent is wasted here.

It’s time for some “Evening Prayers” for Carrie where she discusses with God her new telekinesis powers. Meanwhile Carrie’s mom is being a worrywort. During the Stratford production, Carrie’s mom is in a rocking chair over there looking like Whistler’s Mother.

“You’re going to tell Carrie that you’re sorry!” belts out Miss Gardner. In the musical, Chris seems more obsessed with torturing Carrie than in the movie or book if that’s even possible. Sue is like, “What did she even do to you?”. Even Billy asked earlier, “Who the hell is Carrie White?”.

Oooof. Seeing the gym teacher try to cheer Carrie up by singing a song about the prom (”Unsuspecting Hearts”) and how she could go too is patronizing. Even if its sung by Darlene Love.

“Do Me a Favor” might be the most infamous song from the musical. It’s the song I see referred to the most when I read bad reviews. For some reason Chris is wearing a metallic red bodysuit and Sue is wearing a light pink bodysuit. Are they supposed to be that cliche devil and the angel on the shoulder thing?

Chris looks like Evil Homer!

I’m going be the unpopular opinion here and say that I love the song! The erratic dancing also fits with the song.

Carrie tells her mom before “I Remember How Those Boys Would Dance” that Tommy is sweet and polite, but the audience doesn’t know that. Tommy is barely a character in this production. In the end, Carrie uses her powers to shut her mama up.

From what I gather in “Out for Blood” (audio) where Chris and Billy go looking for a pig to kill, the chorus dancers are the pigs? The video quality is so poor. Chris had another crazy ass red outfit on, some sort of shiny red skirt and a crop top. The costumes in this are just horrible. It was like the wardrobe budget was $50.

This song is so.so.bad. It reminds me of whenever Rocko from Rocko’s Modern Life would see a movie trailer or a parody of something on TV for some reason?! Or the “gotta get that Reptar song” from Rugrats when the kids saw Reptar on ice. Especially when the chorus tells Billy to kill the pig:

CHORUS Cha! Kill the pig, pig, pig! CHRIS Go! CHORUS Kill 'im, kill 'im, kill, kill! We'll make him bleed! CHRIS Go! CHORUS Get the blood, blood, blood Oooh, blood! CHRIS Oh, baby show... CHORUS Kill the pig, make 'im bleed Let's get the blood, that's all we need!

Sue’s song “It Hurts to be Strong” is a bit of a throw-away. It gets a vending machine maxi pad award. Moving on. It’s filler

In “I’m Not Alone”, Carrie sings while using her powers to move things around in her room. What things? I don’t know the video quality was so bad. That’s another thing! The sets are nonexistent! I wouldn’t know we were in Carrie’s room unless the Playbill told me. It’s another forgettable song. Three in a row!

Betty Buckley saves the day in, “When There’s No One”, a sad song about facing life without Carrie being her subordinate.

I don’t understand the prom dresses in “Wotta Night”, they’re all garish giant white numbers that make the actresses look about 20 pounds heaver. The guys look like that Rio doll from Jem. The costume designer couldn’t just go to Alexanders or A&S and buy prom dresses? You know, why am I even asking at this point. We all saw what Chris has been wearing this whole time. There is a disco ball thrown aside in the corner instead of hanging up. More on that later.

The song sounds way too much like that song “Rock on” by David Essex. Automatic Vending Machine Maxi Pad.

Here’s a cute rehearsal clip I found of “Heaven”, the song sung while the Prom Queen and King ballots are being counted. Unfortunately, the audio is bad. Chris is there to remind us that she’s still out for blood.

Finally, finally it’s time for Carrie the prom queen to get drenched with blood -- but the thing is, due to microphone technology back then, Carrie really couldn’t have blood dumped on her. Chris and Billy just run up to her and half ass pour the bucket at her. Could the set designer not suspend the bucket from above the stage? Is that also why the disco ball is thrown in the corner? I don’t even think she has stage blood on her during “The Destruction”, (which is the best song from the musical). I think a red spotlight over Carrie signifies the blood.

I think Linzi is really only truly covered in blood for press shots.

Anyway, the Destruction, I love it when she screeches “DOESN’T ANYBODY EVER GET IT RIGHT??! DOESN’T ANYBODY THINK THAT I HEAR?!” It’s the best. I could listen to it all day and I almost did the other day.

Due the poor video quality, I can’t really tell how the prom-goers are dying. They’re kinda just twitching there in the laser light or slamming themselves against the clear barrier that descended from the stage to signify Carrie closing the doors to the gym.

After Carie kills everybody, this giant white staircase descends and covers up the gym. I read somewhere, I forgot where, that its supposed to be the school stairs? We’re led to believe that Carrie’s crazy mom ran to the school. The first time I saw it, I thought that it was Carrie and her mom getting ready to go to heaven. I thought maybe someone over at the set department took the classic song too literally.

It appears that while the stairs are descending, Carrie smears stage blood on her.

The reprise of “Carrie’ is so much better than the original. Carrie stops her mom’s heart cold mid song. Then she slins down the stairs and Sue catches her. In an interview on playbill.com, Betty Buckley says that on opening night (I don’t know if she meant the first preview, or the official opening night), there were boos from the audience at the end, but cheers for Linzi and herself. I believe it. Betty and Linzi were amazing. Darlene Love was amazing. The rough scenes are the scenes with the school kids. They’re awful, in the words of my boy Jay Sherman, “they’re awful I tell you. aw.ful.”

(relevant prom .gif)

1. Rothstein, Mervyn. “After Seven Years And $7 Million, ‘Carrie’ Is a Kinetic Memory (Published 1988).” The New York Times, May 17, 1988, sec. Theater. https://www.nytimes.com/1988/05/17/theater/after-seven-years-and-7-million-carrie-is-a-kinetic-memory.html.

New York City Broadway reviews on the news in NYC for Carrie. That first reviewer, Stuart Klein, I love him. I’ve watched several of his reviews on flops on YouTube. Joel Sigel who was the Good Morning America film reviewer is here too.

Archive of Betty Buckley interview.

#carrie #carrie the musical #1988 #betty buckley #linzi hateley #charlotte d'amboise #broadway #musicals #broadway flops #flops #the 1980s

8 notes · View notes

dammit-stark · 7 years

Text

The July 17th Paradigm

This is a Spencer x Reader requested by anon. It was supposed to be angsty, but it doesn’t really get that way until the end (it’s been awhile since I’ve written angst, sorry if it sucks, oops).

Spencer is convinced you’re cheating on him even though you aren’t. He makes it obvious that something is bothering him, and people notice.

JJ noticed first, that Spencer was acting odd toward you. She had watched, from her office above the bull pen, as you walked warmly over to your boyfriend, lingering between cubicles and desks.

“Hey, babe,” You smiled, “Wanna get lunch?”

Even from so far away, with nothing to go on but her faulty lip reading skills, JJ could tell that the way Spencer uncharacteristically darted away, replying with some incohesive excuse, was absolutely no good.

You stood in the bull pen and frowned after Spencer, who immediately buried himself in work that didn’t matter as much as he claimed. JJ watched with sympathetic curiosity as you slunk, resigned, into the break room to lunch on slightly-stale donuts and lukewarm coffee.

Emily noticed next, the body language and surprising resentment between you and Spencer was achingly obvious.

She decided it best to hang back while you said goodbye to him, a private conversation that seemed to need to be followed by another.

“You staying?” You asked, kicking casually at the ground and pulling at the strap of your purse.

Spencer hummed in response, pointedly distracted by scribbles of paperwork.

“What time do you think you’ll be home tonight?”

“Dunno, late probably.”

Spencer didn’t even notice you frown as you said, “Again?”

He nodded noncommittally, “Yep, have fun with Emily, y/n.”

“Goodbye, Spencer,” You sighed, leaning in to press a kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek, something you had done a thousand times before.

But Spencer pushed away at the last second, looking up at you with a tight-lipped smile and avoiding the physical contact at all cost, “Bye.”

You hesitated, nodded softly, then decided it best to just to leave, to let your boyfriend stew with his thoughts and his big, big brain in the barren bullpen. In front of the elevators, you let out a long sigh that Emily just couldn’t ignore.

“What is going on with the two of you?” She asked, mildly agape, “You two are usually so nauseatingly cute together that I feel like I have to go to a dentist, and now you’re being all… distant and weird. What happened to you two?”

You stared resolutely at the closing metal elevator doors, very much in need of that drink the two of you were supposed to be heading out for, “I honestly don’t know, Em. I don’t know.”

Emily stayed quiet, watching as the doors opened out into the parking garage, “Yeah, we need drinks,” She decided aloud, “Lots and lots of drinks.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree, even as your mind roamed over every second of interaction between you and Spencer and came up completely empty without any sources of sudden contention.

Rossi and Spencer had been put in charge of interviewing the many, many witnesses at the crime scene. There had been a party on the beach which thus resulted in the third dead rich kid in the county within the past week. Not your typical body count, hence the BAU.

“Alright, kid,” Rossi said, “How are we gonna do this? I interview the ladies, and you interview the guys?”

Spencer nodded absently, and snorted mildly, then said under his breath, just low enough for Rossi to barely hear, “We should have y/n interview the guys. She’d be great at that."

"What?” The older man frowned. He couldn’t have heard that right, could he?

“Nothing, never mind.” Spencer said, and walked off, leaving Rossi alone on the pier to stare contemplatively after Spencer who walked purposely in the direction opposite of you.

He had noticed it, just like the others. An out-of-place mistrust had seemed to root itself in Spencer, a remiss feeling that fit Spencer like a badly tailored tux, and it was so odd, he felt obligated (Rossi always felt obligated, but especially in this case, okay) to stare after the young genius.

Rossi found himself struck with uninterrupted curiosity as he watched you crouch unpleasantly over the freshest body, a frown on your face, and even if he knew it wasn’t any of his business, Rossi wondered what you possibly could have done to cause Spencer, your so-in-love-with-you-that-it’s-nauseating boyfriend, to avoid you at all costs.

“Hey, Spence!” You called to him as his long legs took him in the opposite direction, “Come look at this!”

Spencer kept walking. Even Rossi, the Man With Too Many Failed Marriages, could tell that something was most definitely wrong in paradise, but he had no idea what.

Garcia darkly coined it the July 17th Paradigm (July 17th had been when the earliest of Spencer’s ‘symptoms’ had been noticed by anyone), as if you and Spencer’s relationship problems were some ghost story that campers whispered under their breaths around campfires for centuries past.

Everybody at work watched had noticed (they were profilers, what else would you expect) as Spencer danced around you and stared grimly in your direction when you weren’t looking. It was truly odd.

The worst part for you, though, was that Spencer didn’t even try to hide the contention all that much, would just burst right out with it right in front of your friends and coworkers. And frankly? It was kinda embarrassing.

From deep in one of Penelope’s swivel chairs, you groaned, flicking a paper clip aimlessly at a bright purple pen across her desk, “Pen?” You asked her, utterly miserable, “Does Spencer ever talk to you?”

She froze minutely, then shrugged shyly, “I don’t know. Our boy genius has bee a little distant to everybody lately.”

You sat up in the chair, “Towards you, too?”

“Well, not as much as he has been towards you, but… yeah.”

“Why? What did I do?”

Garcia frowned, patting you sympathetically on the back, “Oh, honey, don’t worry about it. Sometimes Spencer gets like this. It’ll probably pass.”

“You think?”

Penelope flashed a reassuring smile, more lipstick and teeth than anything else, “We can hope, hun.”

You didn’t like any of her answers. You wanted your Spencer back, and you sunk back into the seat with a resigned sigh, “Ugh, but- why?”

“I don’t know, y/n. Nobody knows what that boy is thinking.”

It lasted just about a week before you decided that yeah, you needed to know what Spencer was thinking. You hated the distance, the late hours, the embarrassment.

Hotch watched from the doorway of his office, piping hot coffee in hand, as you hit your breaking point and finally cornered Spencer. At first, Hotch has to strain to hear the words (he’s a quiet guy who takes pride in not getting overly-involved in his coworker’s love lives, but at this point, the July 17th Paradigm is famous around the office, so really, he reasons to himself, how can he not listen, just this once).

“Spencer, what the hell was that?” You hiss, fed up and cheeks ablaze.

Spencer looks like he’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t really do that, so the expression that flashes across his face is the closest thing to it, a step short of something near-pretentious that sets your veins on fire and piques Hotch’s interest, “I’m just trying to refill my coffee, y/n. What’s your problem?”

You scoff, admittedly and quite obviously bitter, “My problem? My problem? Spencer, my problem is that for a month you have been sidestepping me, avoiding me. We live together for Pete’s sake, and it’s like you’re some kind of stranger. That’s my problem.”

Spencer just glares, expression settled intensely, and that’s how Hotch knows this must be serious for him. “Can I get my coffee now?” He asks quietly, and that is just about the point where you explode, volume raising steadily so the entire office can hear. Penelope steps into the bullpen and moves to stand beside Emily and watch quietly in the abrupt shadows.

Insults and admissions are viciously spat back and forth like some cruel tennis match in which the bright yellow ball has been replace with pent up anger and hostility and mistrust. It’s an awful sight, an uneven match in which the spectators themselves somehow feel like they’re losing, too.

“You don’t have to pretend, y/n,” Spencer hollers, throwing his hands dramatically up in the air, “I know I’m way out of your league.”

You scoff bitterly, as if amused, fingers twitching and fists rolling.

“You could do so much better.” The words tumble virulently out of his mouth like heavy, riverside stones, “And yet you’re stuck with me anyway.”

You roll your eyes, stamp your foot a little against the rough carpet.

“I’m not surprised you’re cheating on me.” Spencer says, so matter-of-fact, so sure of it as he uses that tone he gets when he recites something he’d read verbatim. Only he didn’t. For once in his life, Spencer Reid was so wrong, and it absolutely infuriated you.

“Excuse me?!” You screeched, and honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if you were on fire, every square inch of your body was ensconced in that glow of rage that somehow accompanied odd, out-of-body betrayals, “Is that what all this was about? You assumed, that just because you’re not the biggest fan of yourself, that that automatically meant I was cheating on you?”

Spencer’s eyes hardened, and you could feel the entire room take a collective breath, sharp and observant like the damn eavesdroppers they were. You knew everybody was there, listening, and you only laughed louder, more shrill, because of it.

“Spencer, who the hell do you think I am?” The rage was burning hot through your voice, “I am not some whore. I chose to be with you because of your heart and your kindness, but I maybe I was wrong about you if this is what you think of me.”

Spencer tried to argue, because that is what he does, argues and refutes and offers valid rebuttals, but the words sink impotently on his tongue against his lead-lined lips and his lips are pulled into a frown as you talk over him.

“Just don’t, Spencer,” You glare, feeling hurt and torn and beyond betrayed, “Goodbye.”

Spencer and Hotch and Penelope and all the rest of the room watched as you tore open the glass doors and left, red and blotchy and angry.

An unsure eeriness settled over the bullpen. Everything felt sticky, like a swamp after a hurricane, with Spencer at its rattling epicenter. Not a sound was made, silence reigned above all with its guttural cries of horror and embarrassment.

Hotch retreated into his office. Penelope and Emily snuck to Garcia’s Tech Cave. Agents silently slipped back to their desks. Slowly, the humidity of the room rose to the ceiling, and typical work-day volume was completely restored. The world resumed. The July 17th Paradigm was (more or less) solved.

But Spencer just stood, a few steps away from his desk, empty coffee mug in hand, entirely dazed. Your words sunk in, slowly, like an indestructible rock falling through lava or like a plane stranded and fiery among ocean waves. More than ever, Spencer felt completely and utterly alone. A blue-green chill trickled down his spine, like rain in a crooked gutter the day after a storm, and Spencer wasn’t sure what to do as the weird uncertain feeling pooled in his fingertips.

Spencer realized, awfully, that he had lost you. Just like that.

And even worse, he realized that you had lost him long before. Oh, God.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #reader #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reader insert fanfiction #anon #anonymous

157 notes · View notes