Batman: The Musical

You know what I hate? Musicals. I just can’t stand them, honestly. Well, I liked Little Shop of Horrors and Moulin Rouge, but that was it. Everything else just bores the ever living snot out of me… I mean c’mon, we’re supposed to believe that a song and dance number can spontaneously break out where everyone knows the words and choreography? Puh-leeze.

You know what Crystal likes? Musicals. She loves them, honestly. So when we have to decide between “Do we see a musical because Crystal wants to see it,” and “Do we not see a musical because Mike would rather take a pencil, jab it in his eyes, and spend the next six weeks in a hospital trying not to move and wondering what he’d look like in a jaunty eye patch than see a musical,” which choice do we pick?

We see the musical. Because otherwise I wouldn’t get to have sex for six weeks.

So of course some theater in town is putting on a live performance of Chicago. Because you know, it wasn’t bad enough that we had to see the putrid pile of vomit when it was a movie (How did this win the Oscar for best picture? HOW?), now we have to go see the live stage performance.

Oh god, kill me now.

So we go to the theater to see this damned play. There’s some musical number on stage… Don’t recall which one, because they all suck. Besides, I was too busy sharpening my pencil to jam it in my eye so I could get the heck out of Dodge. That’s when I heard this ominous creaking sound coming from above the stage. “Oh thank god,” I’m thinking. They’re going to have a problem with the performance and we’ll have to go home early.

All of a sudden, the lighting rigging gives way, and comes swooping down onto the stage, a juggernaut of sharp, pointy metal and burning lights. Needless to say it impaled and crushed the actors on the spot, leaving their limp and bleeding bodies clinging to the last spark of life, doomed to a gruesome death unless by some miracle someone in the audience had sufficient medical knowledge and happened to have an ER’s worth of equipment in their belt.

Wink wink, nudge nudge.

And sure enough, who should come running down the aisle to leap up on the stage but BATMAN!

He checked the pulse of the actors, then stood up slowly, head bent low. He moved towards the center of the stage as the crowd looked on expectantly, hoping beyond hope that he had some good news to share. Suddenly, his head shoots up from his chest…

And he begins to SING!

It was amazing! What were the odds that you’d go to see Chicago performed live on stage, only to wind up watching a one man show of Batman performing the entire play! THE ENTIRE PLAY! You would not BELIEVE the range of this guy’s voice! He hit every high note and every low note with perfection, and had every last step of the dances committed to memory.

And the way he tap-danced around the twitching corpses of the actors and the twisted wreckage of the lighting rigging, it was like it wasn’t even there! After awhile you didn’t even notice it, it was like part of the scenery. It was absolutely brilliant. You’d never guess that Batman had this sort of performance brilliance underneath that cowl.

Of course at the end of the play, he got a standing ovation. And not just because it’s become a meaningless gesture that is expected at the end of every performance of any sort, but because the audience felt he REALLY deserved it. It was just indescribably fantastic; the English language lacks the capacity to encapsulate the sheer awesomeness of the spectacle.

It was SUCH a huge hit, that during the next performance they even intentionally killed the understudies in the hopes that Batman might make an encore performance, but no such luck. I was truly blessed to witness this event.

I still hate musicals, but now I can chalk up “Batman performing Chicago” along with Little Shop of Horrors and Moulin Rouge as the very few musicals that I actually enjoyed.