Headed to Broadway, Ready for My Close-Up

By Tommy Nguyen
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, March 16, 2008

The first scene of Broadway's "Xanadu" begins mysteriously, with a young man chalking pretty pastel pictures on the stage floor as if it were a sidewalk in Venice Beach. It's the audience's first glimpse into the story of Sonny (Cheyenne Jackson), a California dreamer in search of a muse, not to mention their first eyeful of an actor whose snug jeans and tank top certify his top-shelf beefcake grade.

And yet my friend Steve, in a seat onstage just 10 feet behind Sonny, somehow believed that everyone in the audience was staring at him. At least, he was acting that way. Nearly frozen beneath the bright stage lights of the Helen Hayes Theater, Steve eventually shot a glare at me from his side of the seating section that seemed to ask, "Why did they have to separate us, why did I get stuck with the seat that directly faces the offstage audience, and why did I agree to any of this?"

Onstage seating -- an increasingly popular and often less-expensive option for theatergoers -- might not be for everyone. But I had a feeling that some level of immersion would be great for "Xanadu," one of Broadway's biggest surprise hits in recent memory despite its origin in a 1980 film flop starring Olivia Newton-John. The show's over-the-top, kinetically styled camp -- roller skates, Greek gods, leg warmers -- kicks off when Sonny meets his muse, the beautiful myth Clio (Kerry Butler), who disguises herself on Earth by talking like Nicole Kidman.

I knew it would also be a good place to catch a glimpse of the show's infamous fans (Fanadus, as many of them call themselves), whose rabid need for repeat viewings -- one was reported to have seen the musical 86 times, and that was back in October -- makes each new angle offered by onstage seating a must.

Finally, I also knew the drill. A year ago, I'd bought onstage seats for "Spring Awakening," the Tony Award-winning musical about forlorn adolescents going through sexually complicated lives in late-19th-century Germany. How different could it be?

* * *

Steve and I showed up early for "Xanadu," because I knew it would take some time for the ushers to go over their long do's-and-don'ts speech that hints at the risks involved when two worlds of disparate attractiveness and self-control share the same space. More important, I remembered to use the bathroom; short of hair catching on fire, onstage audience members are forbidden to leave their seats during the performance, and "Xanadu's" 90-minute run has no intermission.

Unfortunately, being early wasn't enough to keep Steve and me together. Though we had onstage tickets, the seating itself is first come, first served, and we were the last to arrive.

The onstage seating is divided into three areas at the rear of the stage, and those areas are separated by ramps that the performers use to enter and exit, many times on roller skates. That's why "Xanadu" had some important rules unique to the show. For instance, we were asked to dance with our arms held out front, not spread out at our sides, for fear that we might accidentally punch or karate-chop the performers should they come barreling down the ramp on wheels. A popular dance from the '50s that imitates the forward strokes of a swimmer, for instance, would be acceptable.

So safety was a big concern in the preparation of onstage audience members. But I was surprised that more onstage ticket holders didn't see the bigger issue in play here.

"What's this about dancing?" I asked the usher.

"At the end of the show, everyone gets up from their seats and starts dancing with their glow sticks," she said.

"Do we really have to dance?" I asked.

"Well. . . ." She wanted to say yes, but smiled instead. "Here are your glow sticks."

* * *

Onstage seats are available occasionally for Broadway plays; last year's Broadway production of "Inherit the Wind" had them, and so did the London production of "Equus." They're cheaper than regular seats (I paid a little more than $40 for my "Xanadu" ticket, while tickets for the orchestra and mezzanine go for more than $110), mostly because of the many rules one has to put up with. Then again, onstage seating also doesn't provide the most optimum viewing experience in certain respects.

For instance, for all the virtues of seeing "Spring Awakening" onstage -- being engulfed by a full-cast musical number, noticing the remarkable details of the set, getting a more interesting peek at the show's more-graphic content -- it failed tremendously during the play's quieter, more emotional scenes, when the actors' faces and spirits were turned outward from the stage. Imagine watching the pottery scene in the movie "Ghost" and seeing just the back of Patrick Swayze's head the whole time.

And some onstage audience members might not want to see all the backstage mechanics of a production: actors waiting for their cues offstage, backdrops and set pieces hanging in the rafters before they're revealed in the story. They can compromise the suspension of disbelief that most audience members demand.

But, luckily, "Xanadu's" smaller stage and more rambunctious verve -- along with its utter disregard for really "important" moments -- made it the perfect production for onstage viewing. The show certainly became a more sensory experience. When the performers roller-skated down the ramps, I felt the light tumult of the wheels beneath my feet; when the evil muse Melpomene (Mary Testa) belted out the ELO classic "Evil Woman," I heard the song through the speakers, but I felt the life force unleashed from very large lungs just 10 feet away.

In "Xanadu," performers might approach onstage audience members and sing directly to them, sneaking up from behind and putting their hands on a shoulder or two. Again, that may or may not be a good thing for some audience members, but seeing the developing horror in a friend's face as a performer inches closer can be a priceless experience.

Alas, Steve was ultimately spared; the actress ended up singling out someone two seats away from him. Steve soon settled down and ended up having a blast; he even stood up and waved his glow stick during the big finale.

I stood up, too, but managed to lose my glow stick somewhere deep in my back pocket -- much to the disappointment of the usher standing next to me.

Tommy Nguyen last wrote for Travel on Cartagena, Colombia.