Love Should Have Died

We had DPAC Broadway tickets tonight. Our friends who go with us gave us their tickets in favor of spending their oldest son’s fifteenth birthday with him. It would have been a good call to give away their tickets if it was their trash collectors birthday.
We invited our friends Lane and Jon to go with us, but only Lane could make it. I made us dinner at home which quite frankly was the highlight of the evening because we got to talk to Lane. After our farmers market meal of red drum, acorn squash and red cabbage slaw it was off to the theatre to see Andrew Lloyd Weber’s follow up to Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies. Love might have been alive, but plot, music and book were in short supply.
The production from the set and costumes point of view was fantastic, but the idea that the world’s most talented singer would be in a love triangle with a demented disfigured man and a drunk hanger on was a little hard to swallow. It was like an anti-feminist riot.  
Christine, the object of everyone affection held all the cards and should have shunned all the losers and gone on with life with her son, but instead she is destroyed.    At one point in the second act, Lane says to me, “she looks like Joan Crawford,” and I replied that she looked like Carol Burnet playing Scarlett in Gone with the Wind.  The music was whiny and the Phantom was not a strong enough singer to hear well. Perhaps being disfigured prevented him from projecting. My projection is this a show that has no legs and should be shelved now before it does any harm to Andrew Lloyd Weber’s legacy. Please let this one die.