something whispers in my ear
Oh, right. Phantom. I should say how it was, just for the record.
Marvellous in every single possible wonderful way.
Except for one.
Seriously, I think I jinxed myself. Maybe I talked too much about it. Cos we arrived at the restaurant in perfect time. I looked fabulous in the Coat over my Fifties fishtail elegant skirt and my very new Victorian ribbon boots. And the Aunt and family friend arrived in time. We had a great meal at the Lotus Pond, had the pre-theatre special so it wasn't too hellishly expensive, and they got us out in perfect time.
And omg the merchandise! I drooled and drooled and drooled and then saw the mask keychain and said "Thassit, I will have no other!" And it was actually quite cheap. So was the program. Delightful surprise.
We stood just in front of the doors, oohing and aahing over the pictures in the program, getting excited all over again. And then I happened to glimpse the cast board placed outside the doors, who's playing who on the night. And right up the top, playing the Phantom were not the words 'Warlow' and 'Anthony'.
That was the point I said "I'm going home right now."
The Aunt said "dri, don't you dare!"
I was so crushed. But still, you know, it could be awesome. I mean, I walked into Cabaret going "Pfft, Toby Allen. Toby Allen sucks, this is going to be shit" and walked out going "Holy mother of god, TOBY ALLEN!! Toby Allen is teh awesome, why the fuck is he wasting his time with that shitty little band?!" And we were just discussing how awesome an opportunity it could be to see a hitherto unknown talent suddenly blaze alight. So I held out hope this Simon Pryce guy would be excellent.
We were in the second row right at the end. And oh christ, the production values so did not disappoint. Every costume was mindbogglingly lush and perfect. As the Aunt said, "not a thread hanging!" Me, I was dizzied by the sheer wealth of detail, such gorgeous colours and patterns and textures.
And oh the voices were perfect. Ana Marina totally exceeded all my hopes because she didn't sing Christine with the shrillness of Sarah Brightman. There was such a great warmth and richness to her voice, a real power to the high notes. Visually, she was so exquisitely porcelain doll with dark dark curls and her red red mouth that it took me nearly three quarters of the show to realise she didn't have startling blue eyes like Sarah or Marina Prior or Dale Kristien. Her eyes were dark but omigod so did not detract from the sheer ghostly gorgeosity of her.
Through the entire play, she was the only one who gave me chills. Several times. Guh.
The rest of the cast were perfect. I mean, seriously. Absolutely flawless. Andrea Creighton as Carlotta could have been shriller but I could understand she chose to take a different tack and not play the obvious cariacature. She was no less awesome for it, pure hysterical excellence. And omigod David Rogers-Smith as Piangi was a total revelation. Classic example of how visual expression can completely energise and render marvellous a role you may have previously dismissed as piffling. I liked very much Nadia Komazec played Meg in a lower far more beautiful register, made her quite real and sweet. But omg Jackie Rees totally nailed Madame Giry, played her exactly like in the original London production, vocally anyway. She was arresting and eerie and oooh scary even just as despotic ballet mistress. Eep.
Derek Taylor as Andre and John O'May as Firmin played their roles in marvellous synchronicity, always a delight when they were onstage, made every notes scene a total delight. I loved them so much. Really, the whole cast worked the comedy aspects so well, even little things like them shuffling around the stage in fright at the Phantom. Hee.
The most amazing thing, though? Alexander Lewis as Raoul.
I actually liked him. He made me like Raoul. He made me understand Raoul as a young man of light, a wonderful stable brave young man who wanted the best for Christine. And he loved her so joyfully, so positively it made me want the best for them, want them to triumph and be together forever.
WHAT THE FUCK?!
I couldn't believe it. But he was beautiful. And he sang it beautifully. And he wasn't foppish at all. Tall and strong and elegant and manly in such a wonderful caring way. Oh, he was marvellous.
The Aunt couldn't believe it either. "I've NEVER liked Raoul, he was always so weak and boring! This guy was so likeable!" She found him very French with the dimpled smiles and the bounding joy. "I mean, when he sang 'Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care', I thought 'My god, you really do care ..." *lol*
It must have been a direction thing. Because Ana Marina played Christine going very well from child to woman. She was so sensual in the Don Juan opera that I sat there and thought miserably "Damn, she just rendered my Phanfic unnecessary." And I was so startled, delighted too, when she actually stood in front of Raoul to defend him from the Phantom. Liek woah, Christine with a fiery spirit, yay!
We discussed the role of the Phantom pretty much all the way home. Which takes a while cos the Aunt was driving me back to the Southern Highlands. And the most charitable thing we can say is that it must have been a direction thing. Cos the interpretation of the Phantom this time around focused entirely on his pathetic demonic nature, made him completely unlikeable. The Aunt didn't like him, I didn't like him. In fact, after a while I barely even looked at him.
My issue was even if the character interpretation of the Phantom took that tack, Simon Pryce could still have sung it beautifully. He didn't. I hated the way he sang. There was no subtlety of expression, no elegance, no beauty in his vocal performance. When he was loud, he blared. When he had to do the unavoidable high lovely notes of "soar" and "night", he managed it. But otherwise, none. None of the sophistication, the seduction, the sweetness, oh god the sweetness.
I could have cried with frustration. As it was, I squirmed and made some noises low in my throat and finally just looked away in pain.
Because at least the vocal sweetness could have made him attractive, made you understand why Christine was so attracted to him. The way he was, he went from incomprehensible and creepy to pure pathetic. When he did the contorted hands thing over her during Music, he just looked creepy and going through the motions, no real sensuality. And most unforgivable of all? They made him a clown in that final scene, the way he prostrated himself and hunched over. It was so stupid. Where was the journey? He was negative all the way through, I couldn't feel for him, there was no way to connect, no way to even like him.
The Aunt's initial problem was that she couldn't hear Simon properly, that his vocals were too muffled when he wasn't blaring, that his diction was all muffled and garbled. I so didn't care by then. The way he murdered the title song and then Music Of The Night had me just not listening and not caring any more. So we complained vociferously during the interval just to each other. And apparently we weren't unjustified cos his sound was much clearer in the second act. I definitely didn't care by then.
By the final scene, the Aunt had realised that she didn't like the character at all through the entire play, that they had made him unlikeable. I think she made her peace with that. I didn't.
Oddly enough, for all the height and physical commanding presence of Simon Pryce, the Red Masque outfit actually made him look smaller and not quite so impressive. Also the way he clunked down the steps and brutalised the vocal delivery instead of being all snide and sweet irritated me even more.
Horribly, I have absolutely no way of knowing whether I'd feel the same way about Anthony's performance. And admittedly, I quite forgot about Anthony. Guess it's lucky in a way that I've never seen him onstage, only ever heard him as Enjolras. On the way back, it bothered me that Enjolras is a much deeper voice than I would expect from someone playing the Phantom. Which Simon Pryce certainly seemed to be.
I mean, there were several moments when I wondered if he was a natural bass and forcing himself into the tenor. There was definitely one number he was singing in falsetto, it may even have been Point Of No Return. Argh! *claws face* He whined at Christine, it was so aggravating. And it totally didn't help that he was playing the Phantom all nervous virgin schoolboy with the rubbing of his thighs when the Phantom's supposed to be playing consummate seducer Don Juan! CREATIVE DIFFERENCES, DAMNIT! *shakes fist at Hal Prince*
So yes, it's quite ironic that this particular production had both me and the Aunt reacting in the conventional way, the "yay Raoul/Christine, boo Christine/Phantom" way. Which fucks with my head on so many levels it's not funny. And makes me want to cry because it bastardised, oversimplified and removed all the beautiful tragic complexity of the Beauty and Beast myth. *sobs*
What I did like though was the interesting way they changed lines here and there. Never the main lines and certainly none in the big numbers. But if you know the musical as intimately as the diehard fans do, then you knew exactly which lines they had changed. And I rather liked that cos it made it new and a little illicit and made me pay close attention to every line rather than drift off as I may well have done if they had sung it exactly as the original London production.
The ensemble was incredible. Really dumbfounded me with the realisation that "christ, they have to be totally multi-talented, don't they? They have to be able to dance ballet and act and sing almost opera. Jesus freaking Christ." There was this absolutely beautiful boy in the chorus/dance troupe. I have no idea what his name is, it's kinda driving me nuts cos none of their headshots in the program look like what they did on stage.
And ooooohhhhhhhhhhh man, sitting so close gave us such a great view of the inner workings of the stage. On one occasion, I glimpsed people in the 'wings'. And in the graveyard scene, I totally saw the Phantom standing behind the cross with the light glinting off his staff and off his shoes. Unfortunately, us sitting in the second row to the side meant that we couldn't at all see him in the cherub thing descending at the end of Act One. And holy fuck, the end of the graveyard scene frightened the living daylights out of me cos the flames blazed up so bright and so hot that I was both blinded and felt the heat fully on my face. I actually put my hands up and cried out. Fucking awesome.
Sooooooooooooooooooo looking forward to the chandelier falling. And this was a totally fascinating contrast to the first time I saw it. Made me realise they may well have done it the exact same way but our seating gave me a completely different experience. The first time, we were right back in the stalls, in almost the last row, so the mezzanine completely obscured my view of the actual ceiling of the theatre. Which meant I never saw the chandelier rocking and then lowering in that first phase. All I saw from the second last row was that sudden heartstopping hurtle into the stage curtain and it terrified the hell out of me in pure brilliance.
This time, I knew well enough to look up from the moment they started the rooftop scene. Cos I knew from either the Crawford bio or the Phantom forum that all the way through that, he's actually crouched in the cherub thing and has to sing his little bits from there before he reveals himself. So I was looking up all the while and charted every movement of the chandelier. So it wasn't quite as effective when it finally came down and in. But it was cool, anyway, to witness.
The problem with us being so close to the stage meant that when they were in the boat at the very back of the stage, we couldn't see them. That annoyed me, especially when they were still singing. But oh god, being that close for all the costume gorgeosity of Masquerade totally made up for it. Christine had the coolest silver blue lace up Converse style boots! *lol*
There were about six curtain calls, it was quite dizzying. Alexander Lewis was just gorgeous. We yowled out for Andrea Creighton and she did this absolutely gorgeous look of surprise. I carefully folded my hands in my lap when Simon Pryce came out. But we clapped and clapped for the group bows because it was a wonderful performance from all.
Weirdly enough, the three people sitting right before us in the front row Left In The Interval. I couldn't believe it. How could you leave before Masquerade, zomg?! And the funniest thing happened at the end. We had spent the interval bitching about Simon. At the curtain calls when he came out, the lady sitting right next to me cried out "Bravo!" I nearly fell out of my seat. Definitely her ear got this stare of flabbergasted horror. Good god. I didn't know whether to be mortified or stick with the flabbergasted.
So I've been toying with the idea of going to see it again, just to sit further back and get the full stage view. Unfortunately, I refuse to spend another hundred dollars to get Simon Pryce again. *headdesks* And there's no way of ensuring Anthony, is there? *moans* So unfair.
The Aunt is going to write a letter of complaint about the sound issues. Because, like me, she loved every single aspect except for his performance. Where we differ is she took objection to the technical aspect and I take objection to the character aspect. *shrug* And amazingly enough, as we were filing out after the show, an older lady next to her said "Well, at least he got better in the second half." The Aunt exclaimed "Oh, you thought so too? It wasn't just me, then!" "Oh no," said the lady and she was clearly an old school fan from way back, you could just tell. Prolly even saw Anthony the first time around. *pout*
Quite honestly, I'm sure I'd love Simon Pryce in any other role but this. Fine figure of a man and in the right role, I'm sure he'd deliver a fabulous vocal performance. Curiously enough, when it was announced before the curtain went up that he would be playing the role of the Phantom, there were a lot of cheers. Which made me go "oh, there's a fangirl contigent. Cool."
I wonder if I'll ever get to see Anthony Warlow. It's not faiiiirrrrrrr. I was too young to see Michael Crawford, I wasn't in the country to see Anthony do it the first time around, and when I do go to see him, he isn't there! *puts head down and cries*
Oh man, I am still crushed. Over the weekend, I listened to Crawford and Brightman with the crazy-eyed fixed concentration of a fanatic and then forced myself to take the discs out of the stereo. I can't bring myself to even take the mask keyring out of its little box, much less add it to the bunch. Salt, salt in the wound ...
In a way, I wish I never went to see this production. Cos then I'd remain with my dim but beautiful memories of Rob Guest at the Theatre Royal and that very first time I realised how I could be pushed and pulled by a work of fiction, have my mind changed and changed again, so fully engaged that I walk out of the theatre sodden-eyed and sniffling.
Crawford and Brightman are the only salve.
Marvellous in every single possible wonderful way.
Except for one.
Seriously, I think I jinxed myself. Maybe I talked too much about it. Cos we arrived at the restaurant in perfect time. I looked fabulous in the Coat over my Fifties fishtail elegant skirt and my very new Victorian ribbon boots. And the Aunt and family friend arrived in time. We had a great meal at the Lotus Pond, had the pre-theatre special so it wasn't too hellishly expensive, and they got us out in perfect time.
And omg the merchandise! I drooled and drooled and drooled and then saw the mask keychain and said "Thassit, I will have no other!" And it was actually quite cheap. So was the program. Delightful surprise.
We stood just in front of the doors, oohing and aahing over the pictures in the program, getting excited all over again. And then I happened to glimpse the cast board placed outside the doors, who's playing who on the night. And right up the top, playing the Phantom were not the words 'Warlow' and 'Anthony'.
That was the point I said "I'm going home right now."
The Aunt said "dri, don't you dare!"
I was so crushed. But still, you know, it could be awesome. I mean, I walked into Cabaret going "Pfft, Toby Allen. Toby Allen sucks, this is going to be shit" and walked out going "Holy mother of god, TOBY ALLEN!! Toby Allen is teh awesome, why the fuck is he wasting his time with that shitty little band?!" And we were just discussing how awesome an opportunity it could be to see a hitherto unknown talent suddenly blaze alight. So I held out hope this Simon Pryce guy would be excellent.
We were in the second row right at the end. And oh christ, the production values so did not disappoint. Every costume was mindbogglingly lush and perfect. As the Aunt said, "not a thread hanging!" Me, I was dizzied by the sheer wealth of detail, such gorgeous colours and patterns and textures.
And oh the voices were perfect. Ana Marina totally exceeded all my hopes because she didn't sing Christine with the shrillness of Sarah Brightman. There was such a great warmth and richness to her voice, a real power to the high notes. Visually, she was so exquisitely porcelain doll with dark dark curls and her red red mouth that it took me nearly three quarters of the show to realise she didn't have startling blue eyes like Sarah or Marina Prior or Dale Kristien. Her eyes were dark but omigod so did not detract from the sheer ghostly gorgeosity of her.
Through the entire play, she was the only one who gave me chills. Several times. Guh.
The rest of the cast were perfect. I mean, seriously. Absolutely flawless. Andrea Creighton as Carlotta could have been shriller but I could understand she chose to take a different tack and not play the obvious cariacature. She was no less awesome for it, pure hysterical excellence. And omigod David Rogers-Smith as Piangi was a total revelation. Classic example of how visual expression can completely energise and render marvellous a role you may have previously dismissed as piffling. I liked very much Nadia Komazec played Meg in a lower far more beautiful register, made her quite real and sweet. But omg Jackie Rees totally nailed Madame Giry, played her exactly like in the original London production, vocally anyway. She was arresting and eerie and oooh scary even just as despotic ballet mistress. Eep.
Derek Taylor as Andre and John O'May as Firmin played their roles in marvellous synchronicity, always a delight when they were onstage, made every notes scene a total delight. I loved them so much. Really, the whole cast worked the comedy aspects so well, even little things like them shuffling around the stage in fright at the Phantom. Hee.
The most amazing thing, though? Alexander Lewis as Raoul.
I actually liked him. He made me like Raoul. He made me understand Raoul as a young man of light, a wonderful stable brave young man who wanted the best for Christine. And he loved her so joyfully, so positively it made me want the best for them, want them to triumph and be together forever.
WHAT THE FUCK?!
I couldn't believe it. But he was beautiful. And he sang it beautifully. And he wasn't foppish at all. Tall and strong and elegant and manly in such a wonderful caring way. Oh, he was marvellous.
The Aunt couldn't believe it either. "I've NEVER liked Raoul, he was always so weak and boring! This guy was so likeable!" She found him very French with the dimpled smiles and the bounding joy. "I mean, when he sang 'Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care', I thought 'My god, you really do care ..." *lol*
It must have been a direction thing. Because Ana Marina played Christine going very well from child to woman. She was so sensual in the Don Juan opera that I sat there and thought miserably "Damn, she just rendered my Phanfic unnecessary." And I was so startled, delighted too, when she actually stood in front of Raoul to defend him from the Phantom. Liek woah, Christine with a fiery spirit, yay!
We discussed the role of the Phantom pretty much all the way home. Which takes a while cos the Aunt was driving me back to the Southern Highlands. And the most charitable thing we can say is that it must have been a direction thing. Cos the interpretation of the Phantom this time around focused entirely on his pathetic demonic nature, made him completely unlikeable. The Aunt didn't like him, I didn't like him. In fact, after a while I barely even looked at him.
My issue was even if the character interpretation of the Phantom took that tack, Simon Pryce could still have sung it beautifully. He didn't. I hated the way he sang. There was no subtlety of expression, no elegance, no beauty in his vocal performance. When he was loud, he blared. When he had to do the unavoidable high lovely notes of "soar" and "night", he managed it. But otherwise, none. None of the sophistication, the seduction, the sweetness, oh god the sweetness.
I could have cried with frustration. As it was, I squirmed and made some noises low in my throat and finally just looked away in pain.
Because at least the vocal sweetness could have made him attractive, made you understand why Christine was so attracted to him. The way he was, he went from incomprehensible and creepy to pure pathetic. When he did the contorted hands thing over her during Music, he just looked creepy and going through the motions, no real sensuality. And most unforgivable of all? They made him a clown in that final scene, the way he prostrated himself and hunched over. It was so stupid. Where was the journey? He was negative all the way through, I couldn't feel for him, there was no way to connect, no way to even like him.
The Aunt's initial problem was that she couldn't hear Simon properly, that his vocals were too muffled when he wasn't blaring, that his diction was all muffled and garbled. I so didn't care by then. The way he murdered the title song and then Music Of The Night had me just not listening and not caring any more. So we complained vociferously during the interval just to each other. And apparently we weren't unjustified cos his sound was much clearer in the second act. I definitely didn't care by then.
By the final scene, the Aunt had realised that she didn't like the character at all through the entire play, that they had made him unlikeable. I think she made her peace with that. I didn't.
Oddly enough, for all the height and physical commanding presence of Simon Pryce, the Red Masque outfit actually made him look smaller and not quite so impressive. Also the way he clunked down the steps and brutalised the vocal delivery instead of being all snide and sweet irritated me even more.
Horribly, I have absolutely no way of knowing whether I'd feel the same way about Anthony's performance. And admittedly, I quite forgot about Anthony. Guess it's lucky in a way that I've never seen him onstage, only ever heard him as Enjolras. On the way back, it bothered me that Enjolras is a much deeper voice than I would expect from someone playing the Phantom. Which Simon Pryce certainly seemed to be.
I mean, there were several moments when I wondered if he was a natural bass and forcing himself into the tenor. There was definitely one number he was singing in falsetto, it may even have been Point Of No Return. Argh! *claws face* He whined at Christine, it was so aggravating. And it totally didn't help that he was playing the Phantom all nervous virgin schoolboy with the rubbing of his thighs when the Phantom's supposed to be playing consummate seducer Don Juan! CREATIVE DIFFERENCES, DAMNIT! *shakes fist at Hal Prince*
So yes, it's quite ironic that this particular production had both me and the Aunt reacting in the conventional way, the "yay Raoul/Christine, boo Christine/Phantom" way. Which fucks with my head on so many levels it's not funny. And makes me want to cry because it bastardised, oversimplified and removed all the beautiful tragic complexity of the Beauty and Beast myth. *sobs*
What I did like though was the interesting way they changed lines here and there. Never the main lines and certainly none in the big numbers. But if you know the musical as intimately as the diehard fans do, then you knew exactly which lines they had changed. And I rather liked that cos it made it new and a little illicit and made me pay close attention to every line rather than drift off as I may well have done if they had sung it exactly as the original London production.
The ensemble was incredible. Really dumbfounded me with the realisation that "christ, they have to be totally multi-talented, don't they? They have to be able to dance ballet and act and sing almost opera. Jesus freaking Christ." There was this absolutely beautiful boy in the chorus/dance troupe. I have no idea what his name is, it's kinda driving me nuts cos none of their headshots in the program look like what they did on stage.
And ooooohhhhhhhhhhh man, sitting so close gave us such a great view of the inner workings of the stage. On one occasion, I glimpsed people in the 'wings'. And in the graveyard scene, I totally saw the Phantom standing behind the cross with the light glinting off his staff and off his shoes. Unfortunately, us sitting in the second row to the side meant that we couldn't at all see him in the cherub thing descending at the end of Act One. And holy fuck, the end of the graveyard scene frightened the living daylights out of me cos the flames blazed up so bright and so hot that I was both blinded and felt the heat fully on my face. I actually put my hands up and cried out. Fucking awesome.
Sooooooooooooooooooo looking forward to the chandelier falling. And this was a totally fascinating contrast to the first time I saw it. Made me realise they may well have done it the exact same way but our seating gave me a completely different experience. The first time, we were right back in the stalls, in almost the last row, so the mezzanine completely obscured my view of the actual ceiling of the theatre. Which meant I never saw the chandelier rocking and then lowering in that first phase. All I saw from the second last row was that sudden heartstopping hurtle into the stage curtain and it terrified the hell out of me in pure brilliance.
This time, I knew well enough to look up from the moment they started the rooftop scene. Cos I knew from either the Crawford bio or the Phantom forum that all the way through that, he's actually crouched in the cherub thing and has to sing his little bits from there before he reveals himself. So I was looking up all the while and charted every movement of the chandelier. So it wasn't quite as effective when it finally came down and in. But it was cool, anyway, to witness.
The problem with us being so close to the stage meant that when they were in the boat at the very back of the stage, we couldn't see them. That annoyed me, especially when they were still singing. But oh god, being that close for all the costume gorgeosity of Masquerade totally made up for it. Christine had the coolest silver blue lace up Converse style boots! *lol*
There were about six curtain calls, it was quite dizzying. Alexander Lewis was just gorgeous. We yowled out for Andrea Creighton and she did this absolutely gorgeous look of surprise. I carefully folded my hands in my lap when Simon Pryce came out. But we clapped and clapped for the group bows because it was a wonderful performance from all.
Weirdly enough, the three people sitting right before us in the front row Left In The Interval. I couldn't believe it. How could you leave before Masquerade, zomg?! And the funniest thing happened at the end. We had spent the interval bitching about Simon. At the curtain calls when he came out, the lady sitting right next to me cried out "Bravo!" I nearly fell out of my seat. Definitely her ear got this stare of flabbergasted horror. Good god. I didn't know whether to be mortified or stick with the flabbergasted.
So I've been toying with the idea of going to see it again, just to sit further back and get the full stage view. Unfortunately, I refuse to spend another hundred dollars to get Simon Pryce again. *headdesks* And there's no way of ensuring Anthony, is there? *moans* So unfair.
The Aunt is going to write a letter of complaint about the sound issues. Because, like me, she loved every single aspect except for his performance. Where we differ is she took objection to the technical aspect and I take objection to the character aspect. *shrug* And amazingly enough, as we were filing out after the show, an older lady next to her said "Well, at least he got better in the second half." The Aunt exclaimed "Oh, you thought so too? It wasn't just me, then!" "Oh no," said the lady and she was clearly an old school fan from way back, you could just tell. Prolly even saw Anthony the first time around. *pout*
Quite honestly, I'm sure I'd love Simon Pryce in any other role but this. Fine figure of a man and in the right role, I'm sure he'd deliver a fabulous vocal performance. Curiously enough, when it was announced before the curtain went up that he would be playing the role of the Phantom, there were a lot of cheers. Which made me go "oh, there's a fangirl contigent. Cool."
I wonder if I'll ever get to see Anthony Warlow. It's not faiiiirrrrrrr. I was too young to see Michael Crawford, I wasn't in the country to see Anthony do it the first time around, and when I do go to see him, he isn't there! *puts head down and cries*
Oh man, I am still crushed. Over the weekend, I listened to Crawford and Brightman with the crazy-eyed fixed concentration of a fanatic and then forced myself to take the discs out of the stereo. I can't bring myself to even take the mask keyring out of its little box, much less add it to the bunch. Salt, salt in the wound ...
In a way, I wish I never went to see this production. Cos then I'd remain with my dim but beautiful memories of Rob Guest at the Theatre Royal and that very first time I realised how I could be pushed and pulled by a work of fiction, have my mind changed and changed again, so fully engaged that I walk out of the theatre sodden-eyed and sniffling.
Crawford and Brightman are the only salve.