"I"m not being rude or catty here, but honestly, I've heard this lyric since the show premiered in the 1970s, and there's never been a question to me what it was about."
Congratulations, Sean. But you can't expect the same from the dunderheads who don't belong to the BWW community. (Or the ones who do.)
And I have no doubt that if someone decided to have a character in a musical sing Mallarmé's "Afternoon of a Faun" at the speed of "The Camptown Races," we would have people proclaiming here, "*I* understood absolutely what it
means! How could anyone not?" Another would scream, "*I,* for one happen to like a song that gives us something more to think about than "Tea for Two." Or something like "I certainly don't think the immediacy of watching something on stage precludes poetry, depth, ambiguity. Thinking about what I'm seeing by exploring lyrics is something I enjoy. " (Uh, while you're still thinking, the stagecoach continues to roll on by, leaving you behind in a cloud of dust.)
But to get back to the song at hand, here's another matter to consider, not yet discussed here. The song comes near the very end of a long slog of a show. The audience has been bludgeoned into a stupor with the same whine again and
again about four miserable, selfish people they care nothing about. The redundant Loveland sequence is the coup de grace. Worn down and worn out, what audience member even has the energy to focus on Sondheim's show-offy, self-congratutory word play, much less make sense of such gibberish? By this point the audience has had it, and doesn't care a hoot in hell if Lucy wants to be Jessie, if Phyllis wants to be Sally, if Sally wants to be Marie-Antoinette, or if Roscoe wants to be Caruso. They just want to get the hell out of there.
To which, our resident sage would no doubt say, with the wisdom of the ages:
"Regardless." (Love it!)
Updated On: 4/9/13 at 06:52 AM