And now for the Best of 2008:

Best Amateur Theatrical Production: Into the Woods at the Waterloo Community Playhouse and Gypsy at Theater Cedar Rapids. But, you already knew that.

Best Professional Theatrical Production: Touring production of Sweeney Todd (the John Doyle staging). The way that was staged is just absolutely brilliant. I should gush about that sometime.

Best Live Performance That Wasn’t Theater: Cirque du Soleil’s Kooza. It was kinda like a circus, but without animals. Under a big top with jugglers, trapeeze artists, tight rope walkers, clowns that aren’t scary. Also, it had great music.

Best Film: Milk

Book Read (fiction): Hero by Perry Moore. Really was the best novel I read and it was published in 2007. But I would recommend it to people and I found it to be a great coming-of-age story with an interesting plot and characters with real problems and depth.

Book (non-fiction): Night of the Gun by David Carr. He didn’t invent his memoir and it was a rather interesting book to read. It had some flaws, but overall it was good. Also, that came out in August.

Song Heard: “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” from Gypsy as performed by Patti LuPone.

Internet Video: Does Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog count? If not, the “Nine People’s Favorite Thing” video was excellent.

TV Show: Mad Men.

Quote: “So my understanding is that he is leaving show business to pursue a career as a thermometer.” -David Mamet on Jeremy Piven leaving Speed-the-Plow

Musical Discovered: [title of show], although I have the music from In the Heights stuck in my head right now.

Band Discovered: Tie: ThouShaltNot and The Dresden Dolls (thank you, Jacklin)

Album Listened to: Tie: 2005 Revival of Sweeney Todd and 2008 Revival of Gypsy. I’m not saying that because of the common thread of Patti LuPone and Stephen Sondheim.

Surprise: Demi Lovato. Despite her being tied down to Disney, her music is actually pretty good. She wrote a song about getting back together, not about breaking up and how much I fucking hate you (granted, she can’t even sing “kiss me, like you mean it” in the Disney Channel music video of “Get Back”). The best song on her album is written completely by her (“Trainwreck”).

Entree in Iowa: That wasn’t prepared by my mother? Meaty Mushroom Burger at Hamburger Mary’s in Cedar Rapids. It happens to be good regardless of if you get a beef patty or a veggie patty.

Entree Outside of Iowa: Goat Cheese Ravioli at the Green Zebra in Chicago. Best damn thing ever.

Dessert: Creme Brulee at Brio in Rockford, Illinois. Someone actually got it right.

Moment: I really can’t pick one. I had some really great moments in my life this year.

Here’s to a great year in 2009. I have no resolutions.

As 2008 draws to an end, I’m going to look back on what was the worst of 2008 this year.

Film of 2008 Seen: 27 Dresses

Film of Previous Years Seen: Death at a Funeral, which I found to be significantly worse than 27 Dresses. It did have music by Murray Gold, who writes the music for Doctor Who, though.

Song Heard: I’m not sure what it’s entitled, but I heard this song that rhymed “realize” and “real eyes”. This is why I either listen to my iPod or NPR when I’m driving.

Novel: Breaking Dawn by Stephanie Meyer. I’m not saying this because it probably appears as though I have a beef with her and the Twilight novels, but this truly was the worst novel I read this year. Anti-climatic plot, lack of explanation of things and overall, poorly written. I have to give her some props for managing to really upset some of the fans with this book. Oh, the other novels I read that were bad were just blander than an Associated Press story.

Non-fiction Book: I didn’t read any non-fiction books published in 2008 that were bad, in fact I didn’t read any non-fiction books that were bad. How about A Million Little Pieces by James Frey since it’s not really non-fiction?

Meal: Vegetables at a chain restaurant named Texas Roadhouse. Although, being a vegetarian and eating at that place is not really a good idea.

Musical Discovered: Hmm…I am coming up with nothing. I actually sat down and listened to the entire High School Musical soundtrack, but I’m not sure if that classifies as a musical.

TV Show You Watched: The Hills. I watched it to try to get in touch with my peers and after watching it I went into my room and listened to classical music while reading Waiting for Godot to purge myself.

Band Discovered: How about most of the one’s that performed at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade? I’m excluding Kristin Chenoweth, Idina Menzel’s performance that I missed, and that guy that Rick Rolls.

Surprise: Furry pets are annoying.

Podcast: I downloaded this podcast to help me learn Spanish and it was from Ireland and therefore I ended up listening to Irish people speak Spanish. Not that helpful.

Website: Gawker, but only due to how addictive it is.

Moment: The floods. Although my house wasn’t damaged/destroyed by the floods, I know a lot of people affected by their place of work being flooded. In short, I was in a neurotic overdrive.

Coming tomorrow, the best of 2008!

There are several things that I dislike about film, television and theater. Poop jokes and fart jokes are at the top of that list because I can’t think of anything more sophomoric in nature. But with that same grouping is forced comedy.

You’re probably sitting there wondering what I mean by this. For the purposes of this discussion, I mean, the playing up of a joke for laughs or the insertion of a line in the script to try to get laughs.

There are some exceptions to this definition. Both productions of Rocky Horror Show that I’ve seen at Theatre Cedar Rapids have had improved lines, usually by the narrator, but they were delivered in a rather natural way. Rocky Horror Show is also filled with moments of breaking the fourth wall, which can make these ad-libs a bit forgivable.

But I was thinking about this as I was eating at IHOP with my mother last night (I ate french toast at 5 PM, because I am that awesome). The main reason why I hate farces is because so much of the humor is forced in the script. You have so many of the elements to create the zaniness that initiates laughter (mistaken identities, multiple doors, etc.). So much of it feels unnatural and sadly, too many actors in productions of farces I’ve seen feel this need to ham it up for laughs.

I have been accused hating comedies in the past. This is not true and it is not just because, as I like to point out, my favorite musical, Company, states in it’s full title that it is a musical comedy. I fell in love with The Producers when I was eleven and have learned humorous life lessons from Avenue Q. The soundtrack for Curtains never ceases to amuse me.

But my appreciation for comedies extends beyond musical comedies. For a long time, I’ve loved the plays of Neil Simon for a very simple reason: there is a realistic side to them. The situation in his well-known Odd Couple is one that there is a slight chance of happening. There is a natural humor to the shows, because most people don’t force jokes in real life.

This might also be why I don’t enjoy school theater. Teenagers feel this overwhelming desire to make people laugh. All too often, this can kill a show because the script wasn’t written that way. I attended a school play earlier this year where the actors were playing it up for laughs so much, that I didn’t laugh that much. The one time I did laugh it was at a line about reviewing a show before seeing it, to which I laughed heartily. This was because the actor delivering the line said it as if it was a common practice for the character. However, I ended up being the only person laughing at this line and received glares from several audience members.

But whenever the actors tried to force laughter from audience members, the show felt rehearsed and stale. Theater should feel fresh and new, as if the events are something occurring for the first time in the life of the characters.

Which is a huge problem with so many productions of farces I’ve seen. A certain door is supposed to open and hit that character at a certain point. That bra is supposed to flung across the stage and hit a certain character in the face at that moment. And the sexual innuendo? Let’s play it up to the point it’s not even innuendo.

But I have an even larger beef with improv and ad libing. I once auditioned to do improv for my speech team, and the two individuals I was paired with were trying so hard to make the coach laugh, that they were drowning out me playing a frantic wife who’s husband had just had her arm cut off by a serial killer clown. I turned to the two and, in character, told them to shut up so my husband wouldn’t die. Improv is used for kicks and those doing improv try to do it for laughs. Some do it rather skillfully (in Cedar Falls, the Half-Masted 3.2 group is rather good at this), but too many go belly up like a man slipping on a banana peel.

And as for ad libing? If you think that you should add a line not in the script for kicks, don’t. It can kill the show simply because it doesn’t fit. Like a poop joke in a dark comedy from the 1940s. And it may be glaringly obvious even to those not familiar with the work, eventually killing the experience to all in the audience. It can also drag out the show, whether stage or film, because people have to keep working with your shtick. And even on the screen, it can seem obvious that an individual is adding lines simply for laughs (see: Horton Hears a Who).

I would like to think that perhaps people in comedies would learn that by just saying things naturally, not emphasizing the punch line, they would be funnier. But, it sadly seems as though the use of telling a story that happens to be humorous is dying, just like the laughter in the theaters and living rooms.

Do you know how hard it is to find a copy of The New York Times in the city in Iowa that I reside?

Very.

Last night, I decided that I needed to buy a copy of the Waterloo Courier, because of something that you’ll read about shortly, and a copy of the Sunday New York Times. Because I love The New York Times, or, as I joked to my mother, I needed to compensate for buying a Courier.

So, I hopped into my car, which has the nickname of David Tennant, and I headed towards the gas station nearest my house.

Well, this gas station happens to lie near a college, and there are several cars that not only park, but also drive on this street. This meant that the street was not well plowed (remember, I live in Iowa).

I walk into this gas station and looked around for the newspapers. I found them, but there was no Courier or New York Times in sight.

As I found out from the clerk, the gas station stopped selling my favourite paper two months ago (two months ago, I purchased a copy of The New York Times in Rockford, IL), and that they were out of Courier’s for the day.

I then get back into my car and drive to the gas station that is the closest to the one that I first went to.

At this point, I think that David, my family’s car, is starting to hate me. I took the major roads in my city because reason says that the major roads will be better plowed than the roads in neighborhoods. However, reason says that several things shouldn’t be happening, but they are.

I arrive at this gas station while listening to a program about food on NPR. I walk in and there is not only several copies of today’s New York Times, but also some copies of yesterday’s New York Times. And not only was The New York Times there, but there was also several copies of today’s Courier, some still in unopened bundles.

I then purchased the papers and drove home, where my sister and I discovered that the Courier can place announcements of seasons at theatres in a logical place.