Mind Your Damn Manners!

For my 28th birthday this past August, Jeff gave me a subscription to Rochester Broadway Theatre League's 2012-2013 season! That's 5 lovely theatre-related date nights over the course of the year! Jeff scored many points with this gift. In October, we enjoyed a national touring production of "Mary Poppins". Jeff had never seen the movie (this is shocking), so it was a fun experience for both of us! So last night, I was very excited to return for the second show of the season, Memphis, which I had seen already on Netflix (yes, there's a recording of the actual Broadway production on Netflix... awesomeness, Netflix!). I walked away from the theatre last night at 10:30pm with extremely strong feelings. Unfortunately, these strong feelings were not about the show, but rather about the blatant lack of theatre etiquette that I witnessed all around me throughout the course of the evening.

I distinctly remember being taught the rules of good theatre etiquette way back when I was in elementary school. We were going to the high school auditorium to see a children's theatre production (I can't remember the specific production, just that the actors all sang a song called "Chicken Noodle Soup with Rice"), and I remember our teachers very deliberately going over the rules of "how to be a good audience members" on the bus.

So I was shocked to see that so many of my fellow patrons had either completely forgotten how to behave or had never been taught in the first place! Allow me to illustrate the no-no's that I witnessed last night:

"leave the Doritos at home, my child"

1) Woman sitting to my left decided that she was hungry 10 minutes into Act I and took the first scene of dialogue as an opportunity to fish through her purse, retrieve a paper bag filled with treats, and sit there crumbling paper and crunch-crunch-crunching on her snack. You are a grown-ass woman at an 8pm show- you don't need an effing snack. Eat dinner before you get to the theatre, not smack in the middle of the first scene.

2) Woman-next-to-me's husband, obviously a musical genius, just CANNOT help himself and must drum his fingers and tap the beat on his playbill (balanced on his thigh) during every single musical number. I understand that you are really feelin' the beat, sir, but there's really no need to prove to the entire row that you are the reincarnation of Gene Krupa. I paid money to hear the pit band play, not you.

3) This dude and his date decided midway through the first act that they needed to move back a row, so they stood up, collected their things and moved. Not 10 minutes later, the guy's legs were thrown over the seats in front of him, his shoes making contact with the upholstery. First of all, if you need to move seats, wait until an appropriate time- intermission. And, you know, no matter how comfortable the atmosphere, I never mistake a theatre with my living room. Theatre seats don't come with ottomans. It's 2.5 hours of your life with a 15-minute stretch break in between-- I think you will survive sitting like an appropriate adult for the duration, sir. And unless you are willing to pay to have 2,500 upholstered theatre seats professionally cleaned, keep your damn boots off of the fabric.

4) Several patrons (including one person that Jeff and I know in real life) kept their hats on for the entirety of the performance. Now, 50 years ago, hats were a staple in men's fashion- they wore them everywhere! EXCEPT indoors. And ESPECIALLY not while attending the theatre. Even growing up in snowy Oswego, a city known for its beastly winters, we were all taught to remove our snow hats once we arrived for a performance. So why is it that, as I sat there in a darkened theatre, I saw numerous men with ski caps, those stupid mini-fedoras, and baseball hats on? Remove your goddamn hat- it's a sign of respect (not to mention the fact that it's an annoying view-blocker for the unfortunate person who is stuck sitting behind you).

Bastards.

5) People who fall asleep. Unfortunately, the person sitting on the other side of me fell prey to this one (but I guess I will forgive him). I see only two scenarios, neither of which have excuses-- 1) you have been up for an obscenely long amount of time and, now that you are sitting still in a dark room, absolutely can't fight the sleepiness, or 2) you are not interested in what's happening on stage. The 3 acceptable solutions to #1 are to take a nap before you leave for the theatre, grab a coffee before the show, or switch your tickets to a night when you'll be well-rested. My solution for #2 is to find something to be interested in- examine the playbill (how many songs are left in the show? what does it say in the lead's bio? etc), really study the design elements of the show (what do you think of the costumes? whose costume do you like best? how are the lights working with the set? how do you think they did that special effect with the scenery? how are the actors using the props?), play "are they hot or not" with each member of the cast onstage, do some people-watching of the patrons sitting in the rows in front of you. I don't care WHAT you do, but find something to occupy yourself. There's always a cure for boredom, and when you are in a theatre at a live performance, sleep is never an appropriate answer. People can see you- the performance and your fellow audience members- and it's very distracting for both (and yes, as a performer, I have been very aware of those audience members who are taking a nap while I'm working my ass off onstage). If you are attending the theatre with someone who starts nodding off, I implore you to poke them in the ribs until they perk the hell up. Then when you get them home, you can send them straight to bed (without any supper!).

6) You know how they tell you to turn off your cell phones before the show even starts? Yeah... that means actually turn them off and forget you have them until the show is over, or until intermission if you can't possibly go off the grid for 2.5 hours uninterrupted (and unless you are an emergency medical professional or your wife is 40 weeks pregnant- in which case what the hell are you doing at the theatre?- you can). They don't tell you to turn them off just to keep you from taking or placing a call- this directive is meant to deter you from using your phone to text, play Words With Friends in the event that you get bored (if you get bored, see #5), or use the glaringly bright display of your iPhone as a flashlight to help you read the program mid-show (as the woman in front of me decided to do during Act II). It's not just the sound of cell phones that is distracting to performers and patrons alike, it's the light that they produce in an otherwise dark venue. Talk about an incredible distraction. Maybe I have superpower eyesight, but I've never needed to whip out my cell phone and wave it around my lap in order to see what song's next-- the stage is pretty well-lit, madam, and you might try simple tilting your program in such a way that the light from the stage illuminates the words on the page. That way, you don't distract your neighbors with the blindingly bright photo of you making duck-lips at yourself in the bathroom mirror at your local Wendy's (nice choice for a display photo, by the way).

7) Sometimes theatre people need to be reminded of the importance of manners. Case in point- we were in the upper balcony, around 10 rows from the light booth. And throughout the entire show, we could hear the technicians and crew talking in full-voice from the booth. And not always about the show. This was particularly evident during the quieter scenes with spoken lines- you know, the ones that are usually really emotional and important to the advancement of the plot. By the end of the performance, I was irritated and decided that it was my duty to alert the House Manager of this distraction from the booth. I politely explained to her where we were sitting (making sure to add that we were subscribers- aka: we'll be coming back and we'll be listening for this problem next time) and the frequency of this issue throughout the evening. She was not at all surprised-- apparently they have had complaints about it all week long from patrons sitting in our section and have had numerous conversations about it with the people in the booth. Now, as a theatre person, I understand the camaraderie that occurs backstage during performances- it's a big part of what makes doing theatre so fun. BUT, when you are in an old (read: not sound-proofed) facility, and all that separates you from your paying audience is a very thin wall with a window, you need to... I don't know... maybe not constantly shoot-the-shit in your outside voice while the show is happening. Especially when said paying customers have been complaining to the management about it after every performance. Manners aren't just expected of people in the audience- they should also be expected of the people involved in the production.