Please, don't get too excited by the racy title. I'm going to refer to to only some specific instances. I live in the San Francisco Bay Area, so I know a little bit about men kissing (each other), and I'm not referring to that. That's not what I've been thinking about. It's when men kiss onstage. I've only seen it a few times, and every time it's been incredibly powerful, incredibly moving. A thing that took my breath away. I'm sure I've forgotten some from when I was younger, but I remember at least these:
Jesus Christ Superstar. The one I saw a few years ago, in a local repertory theatre, when there was one particular actor whose voice I fell absolutely in love with - it was a kind of painful, beautiful semi-unrequited love, my love for his voice (never happened before nor since) - who played Judas in one production, and the following year (or two) later, played Jesus in the next. He was magnificent in both although better as Jesus; odd, as up until then, I'd always felt closer to Judas, as a character. I saw each show 3 times, and they were the six best performances of the top ten in my whole life. (There was that Leonard Cohen concert and the Tallis piece "Spem in Alium" surrounded by a 40-person choir, but you get the idea....)
It's already an exciting play, Jesus Christ Superstar (at least to me), but then there's also a de rigueur male-to-male kiss. It's IN the Bible, as well as the libretto; you can't leave it out - it's a crucial plot point: "Judas, must you betray me with a kiss?" In fact, it's a line that I've always liked, musically. It's traditionally played as a kiss on the cheek, even though, according to Wikipedia: "Both Matthew (26:47–50) and Mark (14:43–45) use the Greek verb kataphilein, which means to kiss firmly, intensely, passionately, tenderly or warmly."
Firmly intensely, passionately, tenderly or warmly. That's pretty - sexy, really. There's no getting around that ANY kiss that might be all or even a few of those might be nice to be around, but two guys doing it, and especially two sexy guys, two manly guys...well, I say yes to witnessing that. Judas and Jesus are not usually portrayed as sexy, but the actors can be. In this case, I was somewhat attracted to the guy because, yes, he had red hair (I admit it, I like redheads) but mostly because he was carrying around that voice I was in love with. The Jesus to his Judas was a little my type, although the Judas to his Jesus was not to my taste at all.
At any rate, the desire to ratchet events up during the end of a run seems to be a common theatrical occurrence, and with JCS it was no different: during the final performance, the actor playing Judas decided to surprise his fellow actor by a betrayal that was a kiss FULL on the lips, and for a goodly amount of time. I was sitting right next to this, and every person in the 99-seater theater breathed in a sharply when it happened; it was bold and shocking and full of unexpected meaning, and the theater was united for one second, reacting as one. It was glorious.
The second time I remember was during a performance of Matthew Sweet's coming of (gay) age 2010 musical Girlfriend; the classic young adult boy-meets-boy story, replete with holding hands, miscommunication, and a first kiss. It was a tender portrait of the bittersweet nature of young, first love. And their first kiss was also tremendous, electric, breathtaking. Both the actors were straight, with a real set of lungs on each of them (as singers, they both had chops) and a sense of humor and vulnerability that made it all even more lovely - these boys cared about and understood this story of young gay love, and threw their straight selves into the parts and into that kiss.
The third time was last night, during a modernized production of The Merchant of Venice at Custom Made Theater. J and I got season tickets, five plays, and we managed to see the first two (both excellent) but then got too busy / sketched on the next two. It looked like we were going to miss the last one as we never planned to go nor reserved a seat, but then the run was extended two weekends, and we spontaneously went last night. A Thursday. You can almost always get a seat last minute on a Thursday, and we did. It's a small theater - we were in the second row in one of those theaters where the first row (four whole seats) are basically ON the stage.
Shakespeare. I've seen quite a few productions of various things over the years, I can never remember which ones. The Tempest a few times, a couple of the Henries, and you can't get away from The Taming of the Shrew. I get the comedies mixed up, and no matter what you do, you end up seeing Twelfth Night, again. But as the play started, I realized that I had NOT seen The Merchant of Venice (it's the one with Shylock; a pound of flesh, if you prick me do I not bleed etc).
I've read almost all of the major ones so I know the stories more or less, but seeing Shakespeare always takes a few moments to get used to. It's like speaking a foreign language (which I only do a little but I still get it)...the first few minutes, you're sitting there thinking, what the hell are these people saying? Then your ears adjust after about five minutes, and it's like they suddenly started speaking English.
The moment when two of the main characters kiss - and I'm assuming this was the director's interpretation, it had a modern slant of characters in suits and tight skirts, trying to work the Mad Men or Wall Street angle (that was the idea, at any rate) - came unexpectedly, near the beginning. I was still acclimating and figuring out the plot, and suddenly there were two men right in front of me, kissing each other with passion (although no tongue), and I was thinking, I don't remember this part in the play.
The subtext of Antonio secretly in love with Bassanio - self-sacrificing, supportive, ready to surrender his life for the guy he loves - worked, I thought. The actor playing Antonio did a good job of bringing to life the idea of his being secretly (maybe he himself did not even know) in love with his best friend. Plus, the guy was good, attractive, well suited (literally, he looked good in his sleek, tailored suit) to the role.
So this kiss caught me unawares. There were men talking to each other, one promising to help his friend woo his lady love, and then they were kissing. Who knew that was coming? I almost missed it, and they came close to it again but that would have been gratuitous. They kept some restraint, so mystery. And it all worked out OK in the end.
Girlfriend,too, went ok, plot wise (i.e. the kiss went well) but then they went their separate ways, sadly. And of course, the Jesus / Judas kiss really presages something awful (cruxifiction follows). I don't suppose men kissing each other always leads to disaster, but that's drama for you. The full range of human emotions are contained in every human, they say, and maybe in every act, and men kissing is no different; but it's rare to see, so it holds little extra potential there. As Emerson said:
“If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.”
Men kissing on stage doesn't appear just one night in a thousand (I haven't done the math, but I assume so), but it's true that every time it's happened, it has caused me to take note. I love these sorts of devices, whether it be in fiction or real life: the thing that makes everyone take notice, stop and pay attention. Sometimes you have to shake people up and/or things up a little bit. I appreciate the guys doing their part. I'm for it. Keep it up, men! Good for you!
Jesus Christ Superstar. The one I saw a few years ago, in a local repertory theatre, when there was one particular actor whose voice I fell absolutely in love with - it was a kind of painful, beautiful semi-unrequited love, my love for his voice (never happened before nor since) - who played Judas in one production, and the following year (or two) later, played Jesus in the next. He was magnificent in both although better as Jesus; odd, as up until then, I'd always felt closer to Judas, as a character. I saw each show 3 times, and they were the six best performances of the top ten in my whole life. (There was that Leonard Cohen concert and the Tallis piece "Spem in Alium" surrounded by a 40-person choir, but you get the idea....)
It's already an exciting play, Jesus Christ Superstar (at least to me), but then there's also a de rigueur male-to-male kiss. It's IN the Bible, as well as the libretto; you can't leave it out - it's a crucial plot point: "Judas, must you betray me with a kiss?" In fact, it's a line that I've always liked, musically. It's traditionally played as a kiss on the cheek, even though, according to Wikipedia: "Both Matthew (26:47–50) and Mark (14:43–45) use the Greek verb kataphilein, which means to kiss firmly, intensely, passionately, tenderly or warmly."
Firmly intensely, passionately, tenderly or warmly. That's pretty - sexy, really. There's no getting around that ANY kiss that might be all or even a few of those might be nice to be around, but two guys doing it, and especially two sexy guys, two manly guys...well, I say yes to witnessing that. Judas and Jesus are not usually portrayed as sexy, but the actors can be. In this case, I was somewhat attracted to the guy because, yes, he had red hair (I admit it, I like redheads) but mostly because he was carrying around that voice I was in love with. The Jesus to his Judas was a little my type, although the Judas to his Jesus was not to my taste at all.
At any rate, the desire to ratchet events up during the end of a run seems to be a common theatrical occurrence, and with JCS it was no different: during the final performance, the actor playing Judas decided to surprise his fellow actor by a betrayal that was a kiss FULL on the lips, and for a goodly amount of time. I was sitting right next to this, and every person in the 99-seater theater breathed in a sharply when it happened; it was bold and shocking and full of unexpected meaning, and the theater was united for one second, reacting as one. It was glorious.
The second time I remember was during a performance of Matthew Sweet's coming of (gay) age 2010 musical Girlfriend; the classic young adult boy-meets-boy story, replete with holding hands, miscommunication, and a first kiss. It was a tender portrait of the bittersweet nature of young, first love. And their first kiss was also tremendous, electric, breathtaking. Both the actors were straight, with a real set of lungs on each of them (as singers, they both had chops) and a sense of humor and vulnerability that made it all even more lovely - these boys cared about and understood this story of young gay love, and threw their straight selves into the parts and into that kiss.
The third time was last night, during a modernized production of The Merchant of Venice at Custom Made Theater. J and I got season tickets, five plays, and we managed to see the first two (both excellent) but then got too busy / sketched on the next two. It looked like we were going to miss the last one as we never planned to go nor reserved a seat, but then the run was extended two weekends, and we spontaneously went last night. A Thursday. You can almost always get a seat last minute on a Thursday, and we did. It's a small theater - we were in the second row in one of those theaters where the first row (four whole seats) are basically ON the stage.
Shakespeare. I've seen quite a few productions of various things over the years, I can never remember which ones. The Tempest a few times, a couple of the Henries, and you can't get away from The Taming of the Shrew. I get the comedies mixed up, and no matter what you do, you end up seeing Twelfth Night, again. But as the play started, I realized that I had NOT seen The Merchant of Venice (it's the one with Shylock; a pound of flesh, if you prick me do I not bleed etc).
I've read almost all of the major ones so I know the stories more or less, but seeing Shakespeare always takes a few moments to get used to. It's like speaking a foreign language (which I only do a little but I still get it)...the first few minutes, you're sitting there thinking, what the hell are these people saying? Then your ears adjust after about five minutes, and it's like they suddenly started speaking English.
The moment when two of the main characters kiss - and I'm assuming this was the director's interpretation, it had a modern slant of characters in suits and tight skirts, trying to work the Mad Men or Wall Street angle (that was the idea, at any rate) - came unexpectedly, near the beginning. I was still acclimating and figuring out the plot, and suddenly there were two men right in front of me, kissing each other with passion (although no tongue), and I was thinking, I don't remember this part in the play.
The subtext of Antonio secretly in love with Bassanio - self-sacrificing, supportive, ready to surrender his life for the guy he loves - worked, I thought. The actor playing Antonio did a good job of bringing to life the idea of his being secretly (maybe he himself did not even know) in love with his best friend. Plus, the guy was good, attractive, well suited (literally, he looked good in his sleek, tailored suit) to the role.
So this kiss caught me unawares. There were men talking to each other, one promising to help his friend woo his lady love, and then they were kissing. Who knew that was coming? I almost missed it, and they came close to it again but that would have been gratuitous. They kept some restraint, so mystery. And it all worked out OK in the end.
Girlfriend,too, went ok, plot wise (i.e. the kiss went well) but then they went their separate ways, sadly. And of course, the Jesus / Judas kiss really presages something awful (cruxifiction follows). I don't suppose men kissing each other always leads to disaster, but that's drama for you. The full range of human emotions are contained in every human, they say, and maybe in every act, and men kissing is no different; but it's rare to see, so it holds little extra potential there. As Emerson said:
“If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.”
Men kissing on stage doesn't appear just one night in a thousand (I haven't done the math, but I assume so), but it's true that every time it's happened, it has caused me to take note. I love these sorts of devices, whether it be in fiction or real life: the thing that makes everyone take notice, stop and pay attention. Sometimes you have to shake people up and/or things up a little bit. I appreciate the guys doing their part. I'm for it. Keep it up, men! Good for you!
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