Abba-Dabba-Doo

I went to see Mamma Mia last night. It was enjoyable, although I realized that I have a very marked preference for a certain kind of musical, which this was not. I realize that musicals in general require a willing suspension of disbelief, but for me this only extends to people acting like they're in a play, and then every once in a while they all spontaneously break into song and dance. My willing suspension of disbelief does NOT extend to people singing dialogue to each other, such as "let's go oh-oh-oh-over to the kitchen and may-ay-ake scrambled eggs", or a person singing to one other person. Not only does it make me practically writhe with embarrassment for the person singing, it makes me feel desperately sorry for the poor sap who has to stand there being sung to and gestured at. Sure, it's all well and good to be the character emoting musically. What if you're standing there having to look eager and receptive, unable to scratch your nose or crack your knee until the song is over?

Also, the song "Our last summer". I hadn't heard it since I was ten or so, which was a good thing. I don't care how badly you need a rhyme for "Paris restaurants", or how Swedish you are, you do NOT get a free pass to pronounce croissants 'crow-iss-awnts'. You just don't.

Other than that it was great. Pam and I picked up Julie's friend Denise on the way down, which made the ride there almost as much fun as the actual play. Fortunately, Denise's sense of humour fit in nicely with Pam's and mine, which I was pretty sure it would since she was Julie's friend, but I could envision a scene in which the poor woman would have been lunging for the door handle in heavy traffic. Pam's laryngitis-induced horror-movie croak and the fact that she was driving her husband's vehicle, whose brakes are apparently MUCH, MUCH more sensitive than her car's, only added to the fun. What's a touch of whiplash between friends, after all? I think I feel a song coming on....