So, kindly go read this.
Then come back here and discuss: Need theater be art? Or is the occasional entertainment acceptable? Is it true that much theater aspires to sitcom-hood? If so, is that an abomination?
I go back and forth. It pains me that so much of what I see leaves me going "Ehhh." On the other hand, I can't bring myself to think it shameful that I'm kind of looking forward to the prospect of Noises Off at Arena Stage.
(Whether I think it's shameful that it's scheduled at Arena Stage, a house nominally dedicated to producing "huge plays of all that is passionate, exuberant, profound, deep and dangerous in the American spirit," is another matter entirely. Exuberance I could find for you in Noises Off. The rest, probably not so much. Bob and I bitch about this in pretty much every year-ender we write for the City Paper. On the other hand, Molly produced Passion Play, so...)
Can't navel-gaze at length this evening--click here to see why, if you like--but then that's the delightful thing about blogs: Your commentariat can sometimes be enlisted to do the work for you.
So, any thoughts?