Last night I watched “Good to See You Again, Alice Cooper” at a friend’s house. The film documents the infamous 1973 Billion Dollar Babies tour and is interspersed with comedic shorts. Since I had issue 3 in my stack of things to be read, I couldn’t resist bumping it to the top of the pile.
The comic opens with scenes from a concert at the Philadelphia Spectrum in 1975, which stirred memories of going to concerts in the 70’s, a much more Dionysian era.
In times past, this was your scene, your church, your glory. You drove a crowd into a frenzy, nightly. Then called them back to do it again and again. All carefully designed and planned, a delicate mix of the macabre and the theatrical… the dark, and the delightful… all while walking a line between what was real, and what was show… and what was both to a delicate, deliberate degree.
For me, this perfectly captures the experience of an Alice Cooper performance and what defines stage performance as art. It is the blending of the real and the imagined. You have actual individuals on a stage, and we then project our hopes and fears onto them based upon their actions (act being the root of the word). The fact that real people are before us allows us to suspend belief in a way that film can never quite accomplish. It’s why a Shakespeare play is always better than a film adaptation.
So far, I am enjoying this series. The Alice Cooper persona lends itself well to the graphic novel genre. As a bonus, here’s a clip from the film I watched last night. If you’re an Alice Cooper fan, you should check out the film. Rock on!
I read this play when I took my Survey of World Literature class as a freshman in college, and I don’t recall being overly impressed by it. But I knew it was one of those “important” works, so when I found out that a local theater troupe would be performing Tartuffe, I figured I would read it again before going to see it on stage. I have to confess that I found it much more entertaining this time around than I did as a college student.
Tartuffe is a hypocrite, someone who professes to be spiritual and holy, but is really just a scheister. He dupes Orgon, who is kind of gullible and hard to sympathize with, into promising him his young daughter Mariane for marriage and bequeathing him his worldly possessions. He then turns around and makes sexual advances on Orgon’s wife Elmire and when he gets caught, attempts to have them evicted from their home. To sum it up, Tartuffe is a total asshole with no redeeming qualities.
I view this play as a critique against the abuses of the church. In fact, there is a lot about Tartuffe that reminds me of modern televangelists. Tartuffe tries to justify his acceptance of Orgon’s estate by asserting that he is doing it for Orgon’s good and for the good of God.
No one who knows me, sir, can have the thought
That I am acting from a selfish motive.
The goods of this world have no charms for me;
I am not dazzled by their treacherous glamour;
And if I bring myself to take the gift
Which he insists on giving me, I do so,
To tell the truth, only because I fear
This whole estate may fall into bad hands,
And those to whom it comes may use it ill
And not employ it, as is my design,
For Heaven’s glory and my neighbours’ good.
(Act IV: scene i)
My favorite lines in this play occur when Elmire is playing along with Tartuffe’s advances while Orgon is hiding so he can see just how despicable Tartuffe really is. Tartuffe claims that a sin is not really a sin unless it becomes public knowledge.
In any case, your scruple’s easily
Removed. With me you’re sure of secrecy,
And there’s no harm unless a thing is known.
The public scandal is what brings offence,
And secret sinning is not sin at all.
(Act IV: scene v)
Overall, I found the play to be very witty and funny, and I anticipate that it will be even funnier when acted out on stage. I’m really looking forward to seeing it performed.
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