Sweet Girl/Girl Action

Those somewhat acquainted with Japan may have heard of Kabuki theater, the all-male traditional musical theater group in which white faced actors portray both male and female roles in the season's story. Probably fewer have heard of Takarazuka theater, the contemporary all-female inversion playing two subway stops down the street. Tickets to see Takarazuka are notoriously hard to come by, as its loyal, mostly female fans pack the theater for each of the group's 10 weekly performances. As luck would have it, I had the occaision to meet several of the players, who graciously offered me the last ticket to tonight's show, Never Say Goodbye.

Don't let the English title fool you; the show was, as would be expected, almost entirely in Japanese. And while I don't think the two main characters ever did say "goodbye," the phrase "never say goodbye" was sprinkled about quite liberally, like garlic in any of Emeril's crack inspired dishes: [Japanese lyrics]...[Japanese dialogue]...BAM! "Never say goodbye."

Speaking of kicking it up a notch, the ladies of Takarazuka are amazingly talented. Although it was very hard to pick out through the distance and layers of makeup which of the 80 actresses I had met, everyone had obviously been trained in excess, both vocally and physically; most prepare from and early age for the company's entrance exam, which can only be taken by 14-18 year olds. The show is really a two-for-one: Broadway musical and French can-can, melded together with a brief sequence of interpretive dance. The musical portion was solid, especially the vocals, and I could generally follow the story having read a summary on the internet. The interpretive dance was...well, interpretive dance. The can-can finale was unabashedly, but enjoyably indulgent. To give you an idea of the showiness, the lead actor's final costume (of which there were many) was a diamond studded matador uniform (the setting is Spain), complete with an enourmous and exuberant peacock tail. Suddenly my wardrobe of pastel colored polo shirts seems embarrassingly uncreative.

Did I mention the audience was predominantly women? Women with suspicious eyes for the one unaccompanied male infiltrant. At intermission I wandered to find the bathroom, and found myself in front of this sign.

Had it been anywhere else, I it wouldn't have given me pause, but there I stood wondering if the effeminately poised dandy was meant for me, or the actresses playing male roles. A group of girls loitering outside the entrance didn't help my cause much either. Perhaps they should have gone with something a bit less ambiguous, given the setting. Like a picture of Jack Bauer grimacing on the phone, or Chuck Norris punching a guy already caught in a bear trap; you know - manly.