2013-12-16

sovay: (Lord Peter Wimsey: passion)
So. My husband is putting on a show.

(I have not been waiting all year to say that, but it's a lot more fun than listing myself as "married" on the medical form I was filling out earlier tonight and that was pretty entertaining.)

It's the Post-Meridian Radio Players' The Big Broadcast of 1962: A Byfar Christmas Carol and it goes up at the Regent on Thursday night, running through Saturday night with one matinée. It's unofficial sub-subtitle is The Byfar Holiday Reunion, since it's been two years out here since the last Big Broadcast and five years in-story since the Byfar Hour went off the air. You want to know how that adds up to a Christmas story rather than a Halloween episode, come see the show.

Come see the show no matter what! It's a beautiful transposition of Dickens to the early days of television and the last ones of radio, funny and elegiac and as fiercely resistant to cheap sentiment as the flintiest Scrooge. (Expensive sentiment only. Affordable tickets, though. Save money for the Cherry Mash.) There will be skiffle music. There will be Sean Connery. There will be Julie Andrews. There will be some ridiculously badass Foley and a lot of fast talking and even some espresso. There will be voices in the dark, turning pages, telling story; that's how theater works.

The Big Broadcast of October 30th, 1938 is the beginning of the story of how Rob and I met. (It happened one night at the Somerville.) I bought coffee syrup for my brother at '46 and introduced my parents after '54 and still didn't imagine that by '62 I'd be able to read the script over my husband's shoulder if I didn't know that was a nasty thing to do to an author. It both amazes and amuses me tremendously.

And it's a good script, so come and share it with us. What's the holidays without a little time travel, anyway?

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