Just read a review of the show I choreographed. It was pretty harsh, and mostly on-target. Not a professional review, mind you, but written by someone in the biz who knows the material and knows theater.
He eviscerated most of the cast. Raked most of the show over the coals. He left halfway through, apparently furious at how bad it was.
I got special mention because he hated my Act I closer, saying it was unfunny and pointless. He is half right. Oh, to be able to tell the story behind that, behind putting together a closing number in three days before opening night. With no direction. With actors who have taken my staging and deliberately changed it, moved out of place because they felt like it, and no matter how much I ask them to move back…well…hey…someone noticed. Go figure.
And I am wondering if I have thick enough skin for this…someone will always hate something onstage.
And, of course, everyone is a critic.
But, as I said, he had some on-target points. Laser-precision with some observations. I can’t stand there and explain that what they see, at least in terms of my contributions, is not what I intended. That my worry was that for all the hype, for all the rehearsal, I was given very little time to work.
But for God’s sake, I don’t say that. I can’t. I own up to it. What I thought was funny isn’t to some people. What I tried worked sometimes and not others.
What I can say is that I did it. I did it.
And now I really wonder if I want to keep doing it. At least I wonder tonight…because at some point the worry I spoke of here comes back. Plus, of course, all the crap about ignoring critics one hears from birth.
But what if the critic sounds exactly like what my own inner critic has been whispering for weeks?
(*mumbles something about bootstraps and big girl panties*)