Just got back from watching BYU’s production of Arsenic and Old Lace. Throughout the first half, I noticed that my laughs felt hollow, like they were just on the surface and there was nothing behind them. I could tell that it wasn’t necessarily because the humor wasn’t funny, but whatever laughter I found in them was distanced from me, and that bothered me. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be.
Then at intermission the couple next to me left. A minute later, as I was reading Through the Looking-Glass, the guy returned, grabbed their jackets and umbrella, and left. It was pretty obvious that they weren’t staying around. Being of the imaginative sort, I found my mind telling itself the tale of why they decided to leave. It was probably the girl, waiting to get outside to tell her date that it didn’t feel right in there. He agreed and returned to get their stuff, and they then went to get ice cream or something.
But I digress. :) My point is, as I thought of the girl telling her date she didn’t feel good about staying, the source of my hollow laughter revealed itself: a story about two old ladies’ murders isn’t exactly going to invite the Spirit in. Putting murder in such a comic light is incompatible with gospel values, especially because murder is the second most serious sin, next to sinning against the Holy Ghost. While I suspect many will disagree with me, telling me that it’s just a play and that surely the playwright wasn’t condoning murder, my heart’s telling me that it’s wrong, plain and simple. In the quiet moments during intermission and then again after the play ended, the absence of the Spirit was clear. I just felt…dark. And that darkness emptied all the humor of meaning and made every clap feel like a betrayal of what I knew was right. Joking like that about something so serious, and portraying it in such a manner that it’s seen as “okay” (the two old ladies are scarcely the bad guys in the play), is not right. I’m not saying that portraying murder is wrong, mind you, but it has to be something clearly bad, showing the value and sanctity of life.
This is something I feel strongly about. And I’ve noticed that many disagree with me. Too bad. Call me a stickler, someone with their standards too high, even Puritanical, but that’s fine by me. I’d much rather have my standards too high than too low. :) (And no, I don’t think they’re too high. Go re-read that The Things That Matter” quote from Neal A. Maxwell a few times and think about it.) Yes, a standard like this reduces my options for entertainment. That’s okay. There’s still plenty of good out there, and when the last grain of sand falls in the hourglass of my life, I want to look back with no regrets or wasted time. Every moment matters.
(And if you’re wondering why I stayed for the second half, it was to double-check and make sure that it was indeed the reason for my uneasiness.)
[tags]Arsenic and Old Lace, theatre[/tags]
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