I just heard that I missed out on a part that I auditioned for. Oh well... it's ok. The panel said they liked my energy and that I sang very well, but they decided to give the role to someone else, and they want me to be in the chorus. I'm a bit disappointed, but not too much. I'm used to this sort of thing by now.
The play is called "Iolanthe". The men's chorus is composed of British Peers. A British Peer is... basically an upper-class snob who gets into Parliament (primarily through being an upper-class snob). (Here's a wikipedia link for people who don't know what a Peer is: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Peerage . A peer can be a Duke, a Marquess, an Earl, a Viscount, or a Baron. Basically a Peer is an upper-class, snobby twit.)
The plot is very simple. 24 years before the play begins, a fairy named Iolanthe fell in love with the Lord High Chancellor, who leads the House of Peers, and they had a son called Strephon. But loving a mortal is against fairy law, and Iolanthe was banished from fairy-land.
Now, Strephon is a shepherd and in love with Phyllis, who is an orphan and a ward of court. The Peers are protecting her, particularly since they're all in love with her. And the Lord High Chancellor, a person of great pride and dignity, cannot have a "common" shepherd as his son-in-law. Shock! Horror!
While it involves peers (who are politicians by definition), you don't have to know anything about politics or noble ranks. It's not a political play at all - much more a satire on upper-class snobs and how they don't deserve their positions of power, and about two young people - Strephon and Phyllis - who are in love, and high-class snobs who get in their way, because they're all in love with Phyllis and want her for themselves. It's very funny.
Anyway, I'm done ranting (or is it raving? Or...) *shrug*
Well, rats. :-(
- Rath Darkblade
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Re: Well, rats. :-(
Aw, that's some tough luck, Rath, but it sounds like you will have a lot of fun anyway... (pats back) Sounds like a great play too!
There's a new script around: PHANTASMAGORIA - A Puzzle Of Flesh! Check the Script Party topic in the Bard's Forum!
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- Tawmis
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Re: Well, rats. :-(
Sorry to hear that!
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Re: Well, rats. :-(
That's too bad, Rath. I hope it turns out better for you next time. It sounds like it's quite an entertaining story.
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Re: Well, rats. :-(
I wasn't familiar with the story: nice!
Sorry Rath! Next time will be better, I'm sure!
Sorry Rath! Next time will be better, I'm sure!
Talk to coffee? Even Gabriel isn't that addicted!
- Rath Darkblade
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Re: Well, rats. :-(
Heh. I was auditioning for a minor part: the part of Private Willis, a soldier who guards the House of Lords in London and sings a song about how politicians never use their brains. Here's his lyrics:
When all night long a chap remains
On sentry-go, to chase monotony
He exercises of his brains -
That is, assuming that he's got any.
Though never nurtured in the lap
Of luxury, yet I admonish you -
I am an intellectual chap,
And think of things that would astonish you.
I often think it's comical – Fal, lal, la!
How Nature always does contrive – Fal, lal, la!
That every boy and every gal
That’s born into the world alive
Is either a little Liberal
Or else a little Conservative!
Fal, lal, la!
When in that House MPs divide,
If they’ve a brain and cerebellum, too,
They’ve got to leave that brain outside -
And vote just as their leaders tell 'em to.
But then the prospect of a lot
Of dull MPs in close proximity,
All thinking for themselves, is what
No man can face with equanimity.
Then let’s rejoice with loud Fal la – Fal la la!
That Nature always does contrive – Fal lal la!
That every boy and every gal
That’s born into the world alive
Is either a little Liberal
Or else a little Conservative!
Fal lal la!
Later, the Peers (who are all MPs, or Members of Parliament) are angry because the fairies have decided, in a fit of anger, to make Strephon the shepherd into an instant Prime Minister. Not only that, but also they decided that instead of giving all noblemen (Dukes, Earls etc.) instant parliamentary status, only the smartest people should become MPs. As they say - "A Duke's exalted station be attained by competitive examination!" The Peers are aghast at this, because they themselves are pretty dim, and they're desperate that no one should find out. This leads on to this gem of a scene between the two fairies, Celia and Leila, and the two Lords, Tolloller and Mountararat:
Celia. You seem annoyed.
Lord Mountararat. Annoyed? I should think so! Why, this ridiculous protégé of yours is playing the deuce with everything! Tonight is the second reading of his Bill to throw the Peerage open to Competitive Examination.
Lord Tolloller. And he'll carry it, too!
Lord Mountararat. Carry it? Of course he will! He's a Parliamentary Pickford – he carries everything!
Leila. Yes, if you please - that's our fault!
Lord Mountararat. The deuce it is!
Celia. Yes; we influence the members, and compel them to vote just as he wishes them to.
Leila. It's our system. It shortens the debates.
Lord Tolloller. Well, but think what it all means. I don't so much mind for myself, but with a House of Peers with no grandfathers worth mentioning, the country must go to the dogs!
Leila. I suppose it must!
Lord Mountararat. I don't want to say a word against brains. I've a great respect for brains; I often wish I had some myself. But with a House of Peers composed exclusively of people of intellect, what's to become of the House of Commons?
Leila. I never thought of that!
Lord Mountararat. This comes of women interfering in politics. It so happens that if there is an institution in Great Britain which is not susceptible of any improvement at all, it is the House of Peers!
etc.
When all night long a chap remains
On sentry-go, to chase monotony
He exercises of his brains -
That is, assuming that he's got any.
Though never nurtured in the lap
Of luxury, yet I admonish you -
I am an intellectual chap,
And think of things that would astonish you.
I often think it's comical – Fal, lal, la!
How Nature always does contrive – Fal, lal, la!
That every boy and every gal
That’s born into the world alive
Is either a little Liberal
Or else a little Conservative!
Fal, lal, la!
When in that House MPs divide,
If they’ve a brain and cerebellum, too,
They’ve got to leave that brain outside -
And vote just as their leaders tell 'em to.
But then the prospect of a lot
Of dull MPs in close proximity,
All thinking for themselves, is what
No man can face with equanimity.
Then let’s rejoice with loud Fal la – Fal la la!
That Nature always does contrive – Fal lal la!
That every boy and every gal
That’s born into the world alive
Is either a little Liberal
Or else a little Conservative!
Fal lal la!
Later, the Peers (who are all MPs, or Members of Parliament) are angry because the fairies have decided, in a fit of anger, to make Strephon the shepherd into an instant Prime Minister. Not only that, but also they decided that instead of giving all noblemen (Dukes, Earls etc.) instant parliamentary status, only the smartest people should become MPs. As they say - "A Duke's exalted station be attained by competitive examination!" The Peers are aghast at this, because they themselves are pretty dim, and they're desperate that no one should find out. This leads on to this gem of a scene between the two fairies, Celia and Leila, and the two Lords, Tolloller and Mountararat:
Celia. You seem annoyed.
Lord Mountararat. Annoyed? I should think so! Why, this ridiculous protégé of yours is playing the deuce with everything! Tonight is the second reading of his Bill to throw the Peerage open to Competitive Examination.
Lord Tolloller. And he'll carry it, too!
Lord Mountararat. Carry it? Of course he will! He's a Parliamentary Pickford – he carries everything!
Leila. Yes, if you please - that's our fault!
Lord Mountararat. The deuce it is!
Celia. Yes; we influence the members, and compel them to vote just as he wishes them to.
Leila. It's our system. It shortens the debates.
Lord Tolloller. Well, but think what it all means. I don't so much mind for myself, but with a House of Peers with no grandfathers worth mentioning, the country must go to the dogs!
Leila. I suppose it must!
Lord Mountararat. I don't want to say a word against brains. I've a great respect for brains; I often wish I had some myself. But with a House of Peers composed exclusively of people of intellect, what's to become of the House of Commons?
Leila. I never thought of that!
Lord Mountararat. This comes of women interfering in politics. It so happens that if there is an institution in Great Britain which is not susceptible of any improvement at all, it is the House of Peers!
etc.