Top Five Songs: Hedwig and the Angry Inch

I just got my first chance to see a live performance of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, at a small theatre in Minneapolis, and this much is indisputable:  I love this score.  It’s probably the most genuinely-rock score in musical theatre, and I love how deftly the songs relate to the story, which is impressive for a show that’s set up like a concert.  Gun to my head, these are my absolute favorites.

“Tear Me Down” – I love the idea of Hedwig herself as a metaphor for the Berlin Wall, and that concept is a great introduction to her for the show.  This rowdy opening number gives us Hedwig’s origins and shows us hints of that in-between place where she exists.

Best lyric:  “There ain’t much of a difference / Between a bridge and a wall. / Without me right in the middle, babe, / You would be nothin’ at all.”

“The Origin of Love” – Just masterful.  A gorgeous fable, a rock-ballad retelling of Plato’s Symposium, replete with gods, fire, and humans severed from the other halves of themselves.  It’s a definite rock number, but the narrative is beautiful, and the way it rises and falls is just so theatrical.

Best lyric:  “Last time I saw you, / We had just split in two. / You were looking at me. / I was looking at you.  You had a way so familiar, / I could not recognize, / ‘Cause you had blood on your face; / I had blood in my eyes. / But I could swear by your expression / That the pain down in your soul / Was the same as the one down in mine.”

“Wig in a Box” – Oh, I love this song, an emotional journey of self-discovery expressed in wigs.  The plaintive opening verse is exquisitely gentle, and I love how it gives over to the driving beat that follows the chorus.  The music-video treatment this song gets in the movie is perfect.

Best lyric:  “I look back on where I’m from, / Look at the woman I’ve become, / And the strangest things seem suddenly routine.”

“Wicked Little Town (Reprise)” – Don’t get me wrong; I love the first version of this song, too.  But I just adore the lyrics of the reprise, and the chance to hear the Hedwig actor playing Tommy is too good to pass up.  This song is just what Hedwig needs, right when she needs it most.

Best lyric:  “Forgive me, for I did not know, / ‘Cause I was just a boy, / And you were so much more / Than any god could ever plan, / More than a woman or a man, / And now I understand how much I took from you.”

“Midnight Radio” – And here, after all the posturing and wallowing, all the spite and pain, the closing number brings with it some peace as Hedwig finally finds a way to reconcile herself.  The self-love in this number is so pure and triumphant, it’s just stunning.

Best lyric:  “Know in your soul, / Like your blood knows the way / From your heart to your brain, / Knows that you’re whole.”

Book-Movie Comparison: Crazy Rich Asians

My general thoughts on adaptations are all over the map.  I’ve of course had many a “the book was better” reactions, but there are also those rare adaptations that get everything just right, and I often find I’m better able to appreciate a movie despite its differences from the book if I see the movie first (or, at minimum, haven’t read the book recently – when I read right before watching, the movie almost inevitably suffers by comparison.)  Crazy Rich Asians, though, is one of the instances where I actually prefer the movie to the book (spoilers.)

The film hits the major points of the book, especially where Rachel, Nick, and Eleanor are concerned.  We get Rachel’s shock of discovering her boyfriend is basically “the Asian Prince William,” his mother’s disapproval of Rachel’s lack of wealth/connections, and Singapore socialites’ vendetta against the “gold-digger” trying to “steal” the island’s most eligible bachelor.  The only significant cut that really feels like a loss is the way Astrid’s plot gets trimmed down (but, since no one should cast Harry Shum Jr. just for a cameo, I’m sure we’ll be getting more of her, and Charlie Wu, in the sequel.)  Additionally, most of the characters are portrayed very faithfully to the book, and the movies nails the difference between the classy extravagance of the old-money Youngs and the gaudy ostentation of the new-money Gohs.

But despite being pretty faithful on that macro level, the movie also makes a number of changes that, in my mind, create a better, richer story.  First, there’s the more fleshed-out theme of Rachel being an outsider, not just because she’s middle-class, but also because she’s Asian-American.  “Too Asian for America, too American for Asia” is a type of alienation that resonates with so many Asian-Americans, and the film beautifully brings out these themes.  Eleanor is suspicious of Rachel’s “passion” about her work, thinking she’d prioritize her own interests/ambitions over any future family with Nick.  The driving force behind the Rachel-Eleanor conflict is “she will never be enough for my son because she does not belong,” and it comes to a fantastic head in the climactic mahjong scene (an invention of the movie); through this conflict and with Rachel’s moral victory in the game, this story of extraordinary wealth and luxury becomes at the same time incredibly grounded in human relationships and personal identity.

Another improvement is Rachel being at least slightly prepared for her first real encounter with Nick’s family.  It never made sense to me that the Youngs are so uber-wealthy and famous among the crème de la crème but simultaneously so “non-showy” about it that the Gohs have never even heard of them, so I like that, here, Peik Lin freaks out that the Nick Rachel’s dating is Nick Young, immediately giving her the 411 on the Young family wealth.  Nick not preparing Rachel himself is still a boneheaded move, but at least, with Peik Lin’s help, she’s not completely blindsided.

And, at least Nick actually has a reason for not telling Rachel.  Essentially, he uses the classic “monarch pretends to be a commoner” defense, knowing that Rachel loves him for him rather than his money and not really wanting to change her image of him until he has to.  While he still shouldn’t have done it, this motivation is a lot more understandable than his “how should I have known this would be weird for you?” shrugging in the book when everyone was saying, “Dude, you have to warn Rachel before she gets into the lions’ den.”

As for the film’s ending, it’s a big departure from the book, and I absolutely love it.  I already mentioned my adoration for the mahjong scene, which is what makes Eleanor realize that Rachel is the real deal.  But I really love the proposal scene in the airplane aisles, too.  It’s so charming, with Nick impatiently helping people with their luggage and climbing over seats to get to Rachel, and what’s more, it’s not just about the romance of it.  Right as I’m thinking, “Nick, the sweet proposal isn’t going to make a difference if she still thinks it will cause a rift with your mom, that’s why she said no the first time,” they pull out the money shot:  the ring box with Eleanor’s ring inside.  Without a word, it conveys everything it needs too.  Masterful scene, so elegant – I love it so much.

Character Highlight: K9 (Doctor Who)

K9 isn’t the Doctor’s only inorganic companion (Kamelion, we hardly knew ye,) but he is the best known and definitely the most fun.  He’s also, thanks to his post-Four-era connection to Sarah Jane, one of the few classic Who companions to carry over into the modern Whoniverse.  This is everyone’s favorite tin dog.

Despite not being alive, K9 first encounters the Doctor like any other companion does, meeting him in the middle of one of his adventures and then accompanying him on the TARDIS afterwards, first with Leela and then with Romana and later Adric.  He spends the better part of four seasons on the show, which might technically make him the longest-running companing, although his actual presence in the series doesn’t make it feel that way.  For one, he’s always very much a secondary companion – more like Mickey than Rory, despite his longevity on the show – and for another, he’s absent for a handful of stories over the course of his tenure.  The in-story reasons are usually some technical problem or another, circuits in need of rewiring and the like, but I imagine that the real reason is often down to the difficulty of maneuvering the electronic K9 prop over anything less than smooth terrain.

But of course, not much point in talking about the times when he isn’t around.  How ‘bout when he is?  In some ways, K9 is just a movable talking computer, or perhaps a suped-up sonic screwdriver, and his place on team TARDIS is largely functional.  His memory banks store all kinds of pertinent facts he can spout on request, he can analyze everything from data to biological matter, he’s capable of interphasing with most any computer, and he’s equipped with a stun gun.  To a large extent, he’s a fancy gadget that the Doctor and his companions can use to get the job done.

But that’s not all there is to him.  He’s also a character in his own right, even if his personality is very programmed and kind of pedantic.  I like his tendency to take things literally, defining things like “piece of cake” instead of taking them as the idioms the Doctor intends.  He’s also quick to correct anyone who anthropomorphizes him too much, like when he’s asked, “How are you feeling?” after a malfunction is repaired.  He gives occasional input on team TARDIS’s plans and pokes holes in the Doctor’s sometimes-inventive logic.

Plus, there’s just something fun about him being designed to look like a dog.  I love the little details, like his tail being an antenna and what looks like tiny satellite dishes for ears.  The Doctor and co. treat him like both a dog and a computer, and there’s something so endearing about watching the Doctor lose at chess to K9, try to convince him he’s always wanted to be a bloodhound, or call him “my best friend.”  Aw.