The Crappy Part of the Nutcracker
Blasphemy! I know, I know. I adore the Nutcracker so much that I always forget how much of a snoozer most of the first act is. Let’s pause for a moment, clear the marzipan from our heads, and think back to that nice nap we took during scenes one through six, you know–the scenes with all the lovely orchestra music playing in the background?
Somewhere in between the trumpet and the horn, I vaguely remember a long, uneventful Christmas party: 20 minutes of adults greeting each other and passing around hors d’oeuvres. I’m pretty sure one of the scenes is called “Dance of the Parents,” and another “Departure of the Guests,” two of the least exciting things to happen dramatically ever, and during which time most of the dancing consists of adults shaking hands and bowing to each other. Which, I’ll give them credit, is exactly how I imagine parents dancing. I know, they have to introduce the magical toymaker who gives Clara the nutcracker, etc, etc, but really–and maybe this is the New Yorker in me speaking–I would have been just as pleased to have rushed through that bit, and filled the following five scenes with the dancing rats. Who doesn’t like festive rodents?
I have learned that it is not socially acceptable to constantly display my extreme love for Christmas while interacting with other adults, and have thus been suppressing my cheer, indulging it for only four measly weeks a year, at which point it has accumulated for so long without relief that it bursts from me in the most dense and flamboyant tribute of affection that it alienates my friends, family, neighbors, pets, mailman, pharmacist, grocery clerk, primary care physician, etc, etc.
Christmas Freak 