Warning to those who are going to see my show at the Capital Fringe Festival
If you're planning to see my show, The Road to Nowhere, at the Capital Fringe Festival, DO NOT READ THE REVIEW BY DC THEATRE SCENE. The reviewer spoiled every single fucking plot point and twist in graphic detail, which, y'know, might not have been so bad if he at least gave me a rave review and a pull-quote or two, or maybe wanted to do a "New Yorker" and wax literary by deeply analyzing every aspect of the show. But no, the spoilers didn't have any bearing on the actual substance of his critique. He just did it anyway, just cuz. Seriously, out of the twelve paragraphs that comprise the review, FIVE are pure spoiler. That's swell. That's fantastic.
I'm making this public purely as a warning to you guys, so hopefully the reviewer himself won't read this, because I still have to figure out a way to politely ask him to alter the review in a way that doesn't piss him off or make him feel like I'm trying to tell him how to do his job. Look, I'm incredibly grateful that he came to see me on my opening night, when I've been completely unable to promote my show due to all the baby-havin'. I want him to know that.
And hell, I really don't care that he didn't love the show. Quite frankly, I can't always be on my A-game due to the fact that I'm tired as all fuck from taking care of a newborn (although those friends of mine who've seen it so far seem to like it a lot either way, so it seems like I'm doing all right), so all I care about right now is having a good time, getting good audiences, and at least breaking even, in that order. But this review could seriously kneecap all three, and I don't even have another show for twelve days, just three shows left in the final weekend of Fringe.
So we are not a very happy, happy Hefner and Henchgirl right about now. Even the Hef!Baby is strangely more upset than usual today. Way to go, Mr. Reviewer, you make my son cry.
Holy shit, I have a son. That's still so weird.
I'm making this public purely as a warning to you guys, so hopefully the reviewer himself won't read this, because I still have to figure out a way to politely ask him to alter the review in a way that doesn't piss him off or make him feel like I'm trying to tell him how to do his job. Look, I'm incredibly grateful that he came to see me on my opening night, when I've been completely unable to promote my show due to all the baby-havin'. I want him to know that.
And hell, I really don't care that he didn't love the show. Quite frankly, I can't always be on my A-game due to the fact that I'm tired as all fuck from taking care of a newborn (although those friends of mine who've seen it so far seem to like it a lot either way, so it seems like I'm doing all right), so all I care about right now is having a good time, getting good audiences, and at least breaking even, in that order. But this review could seriously kneecap all three, and I don't even have another show for twelve days, just three shows left in the final weekend of Fringe.
So we are not a very happy, happy Hefner and Henchgirl right about now. Even the Hef!Baby is strangely more upset than usual today. Way to go, Mr. Reviewer, you make my son cry.
Holy shit, I have a son. That's still so weird.