Written Works by Hosun Lee
 London Travel Journals

 
13-Feb-96

MY NIGHT OUT ON THE TOWN (other wise known as Hey Greg A, Having Fun Reading This at TSG? B-)

OR

A TALE OF TWO DITTIES

Hosun Lee


Two weeks ago, myself and some friends of mine (who will
remain nameless in order to protect their identity, but my
roommate Tom Melfi was probably one of them) decided to take this
moment to enlighten ourselves and become one with British
culture. Well, it was either that, or spend the night watching
reruns of Walker, Texas Ranger. Everyone else had decided to
spend that weekend abandoning us and engaging in heathen rituals
such as having a fun time. Therefore, it was obviously a time for
live entertainment, and that meant wandering aimlessly through
the West End.

Despite the fact that I excel at wandering aimlessly, I
decided that this was a good time to start planning events ahead
of time. Through the magic of American Express (Thanks, Tom!), we
were able to book five tickets for a Friday night showing of Les
Miserables. The tickets were £8, but they ended up being £10.50
with the booking fee. You should keep in mind that it is
extremely difficult to book so many seats together for a weekend
showing, especially if you want to pay reasonable prices.

Our seats ended up being in the balcony, which are the
cheapest seats in the theatre for a reason (they're alllll the
way back. You need binoculars to see the binoculars). The seats
were so cramped, that if you sneezed, there was a really good
chance that you'd fall off of the balcony and break your neck.
(As well as the necks of the two dozen or so people who were
squeezed into the seats below) Still, we didn't need to wait in
line, and we only paid £10.50, so the tickets were worth it.

Now, I myself had never seen Les Miserables before that
night. Although apparently, everyone else on the face of the
earth had already seen it. I'm pretty sure that I could have gone
by most pre-schools and gotten an in-depth review of the show.

So, I was a bit nervous about the whole experience. I had
never seen a real show before. The closest thing to a real show
was watching The Reduced Shakespeare Company's rendition of The
Bible (Abridged) and The Complete Works of Shakespeare
(Abridged). While those shows were both entertaining, and they
both played at the Kennedy Center, I'm not sure how cultural a
show is if it has to resort to a Super-Soaker fight during the
middle of the performance (True story. If you ever see the
Reduced Shakespeare Company, avoid the front row. You'll get
soaked by water).

Anyway, back to Les Miserables.....the first impression I
got was of the stage. Well, actually, I lied. I couldn't really
see the stage without knocking out some of the people ahead of me
(okay, I lied about that too, I didn't actually knock them
out...but I did think really mean thoughts about them). However,
with some expert neck-craning, I was able to catch a glimpse of
the stage. And it was neat.

It was a large stage with some type of transparent screen in
the middle. In extremely large letters, the name of the show was
emblazoned across the screen, with the omni-present picture of
the little girl on it. There was also the faintest echo of a
gentle melody playing in the background.

One thing that brought relief to my fluttering heart was
that capitalism abounded in this theatre. The programs cost £1,
and you could purchase cheap binoculars for 20p (On loan, and
you're asked to return them afterwards) (I did return them, in
case you're interested, they're not even worth carrying home with
you).

Finally, at 7:30, the show started. What can I say?
Cooooool. Neat. Stupendous. Exhilarating. I felt the earth move,
the roaring seas explode with elemental fury, I heard angels
weeping in joy and the searing ray of the sun burst through the
clouds. In other words, it was more than worth the money. I
didn't expect it to be entirely sung, but it was a real treat.
The view actually wasn't that bad, I was able to see the entire
stage, and the binoculars helped out every once in a while. (And
the ice cream I bought during intermission wasn't half bad,
either)

So, I highly recommend that all of you go see Les
Miserables. It's playing at the Palace theatre. Odds are, you'll
be able to book a seat or two over the phone, otherwise, just
queue up in line during a weekday and catch one of the most
moving shows you'll ever see.

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

I'm sure you're expecting a witty and in-depth report on
this fine musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Many of you undoubtedly
have seen it in the states, and you're probably expecting the
London production to be a truly stellar performance. It is
supposed to be one of the most popular shows in London, booked
until December this year.

I wouldn't know. I didn't see it. One of my roommates and I
thought real hard about seeing it though. On a sunny (but
freezing) Saturday, we decided that it would be a good idea to
try and catch the show. I called up the ticket office the day
before, and I was told that they were booked for the next ten
months. On some days, they might have a couple of seats, but they
would be restricted view seats (meaning that you get a really
nice view of a pillar right in front of you). I was then told
that I could try purchasing a returned ticket.

So, one of my nameless roommates and I went down to the West
End on an extremely cold Saturday afternoon. We could have tried
to catch one of the matinee showings, which are cheaper and
easier to get tickets for. However, we were warned that such
showings tend to be less exciting than the evening shows, and
often feature the understudies instead of the regular performers
(not that I have anything against understudies, mind you, but my
favorite cartoon, Mighty Max was on Nickelodeon during the
matinee hours).

We decided that we'd try to beat the crowd by getting there
around 4:45pm. Hah, those wienies after us would be just out of
luck. Well, apparently, at least 20 other people had the same
thought, although they had it about half an hour before us. I
really hate it when other people start getting more devious than
me. They should have laws against that.

When we got to the returned-tickets queue at Her Majesty's
theatre, we found approximately 12 people ahead of us. Now, the
theatre said that they had about 20 tickets returned on a daily
basis. So, we weren't too worried. The first thing that happened
was that we were accosted by an extremely pushy and annoying
ticket scalper. He ran up to me, started shouting ticket prices,
and when I didn't answer him, he just looked at me in disgust and
walked off. Well, I really would have said something to him, but
he wouldn't let me get a word in. It was like being mugged by a
really obnoxious geriatric rabid poodle, I wasn't sure what to
make of the whole deal.

I got some amusement out of watching him try to pawn his
tickets off on many of the bystanders. Now, keep in mind that the
average price of a ticket for Phantom is around £24 or so. This
guy was selling them at £40 to start out with. He made
Ticketmaster seem reasonable by comparison (Their prices ranged
from £20-£60).

At one point, he cornered this group of French tourists who
spoke very little English. He then tried to pawn off those £40
tickets for £60. Fortunately, the people ahead of us in line were
French, and they were able to warn their countrymen (and women).
The real kicker was that the tickets he was selling were actually
counterfeits. They looked like something that a 10-year old
printed up on his home computer.

That, by the way, is the difference between organizations
like Ticketmaster and those soulless wienies skulking outside of
the theatre. You know that Ticketmaster has the genuine thing,
even if it is at disgustingly inflated prices. The only thing
those scalpers probably have is lice and a case of really bad
breath (and possibly a pocketful of money at the end of the day.
Although if the universe has a sense of humor, those notes will
all be counterfeits)

After an hour or so, we began talking to a couple in front
of us. It was a very friendly conversation, until they mentioned
that they were buying SEVEN tickets. Those two would effectively
prevent anyone after them from watching the show. I'm not sure
how they could have done that, as you are only allowed one ticket
per person, but no one in line was happy to hear that.

Although they were so gosh-darned cute, it was hard to feel
that much anger towards them (Although I was wishing that one of
them would suddenly achieve an epiphany and decide to leave the
line and lead a new life devoid of materialism). It was therefore
at this point that we realized that good will towards mankind and
all that crud is nice and all, but only as long as no one's
standing in front of you in the queue.

We therefore ended up talking to the people behind us in
line. There was a young woman from America who was working in
Europe. This was her only time she'd be in London for a while, so
she wanted to try and catch an Andrew Lloyd Webber show. The
person behind her was an elderly woman from Italy, who was
visiting London. We actually ended up having some decent
conversations, sharing some stories of travels and tours.

I found that the theatre is seriously lacking in security,
though. The exit to the theatre wasn't locked and had no guards.
At least one person in the queue with me decided to go inside the
theatre to warm up. That was about the second most entertaining
thing that happened in line. It's very sad, if you think about
it.

The most interesting thing that happened was when a man from
a tour group came by and was trying to sell two tickets that his
group could no longer use. We weren't able to get it though, as a
really obnoxious couple several places ahead of us jumped out and
nearly killed us as they trampled their way through. One of the
ticket scalpers actually offered £200 for *EACH TICKET!!!*. For
that price, I could have gone to New York, gotten first row
tickets at the Phantom show there, come back and have gotten
front row tickets at the London showing. However, the tickets
were sold for £20. My roommate and I were still out in the cold.

It soon became 6:00pm, and we were still outside in the
cold. The tickets were supposed to go on sale around 6:09pm.
Finally, around half past six, a gentleman from the theatre came
out and began taking names. My roommate and I were the 20th and
21st people in line. The man only had 17 tickets. Needless to
say, the emotions that were sweeping through my mind all dealt
with wholesale destruction and lots of unnecessary mayhem.

We ditched out on the line at that point, assuming that no
more tickets would be offered. We went to try and see Sunset
Boulevard and Miss Saigon. No luck, I couldn't even see the doors
at those theatres, because so many people had crowded around.

So, we had effectively spent over two hours standing and
making small talk. Therefore, we did the most sensible thing to
do in situations like this. My roommate took me out for dinner at
the Aberdeen Steak House and paid most of the £45 tab. Depression
will do wonders for people's wallets, I guess (I'll also have to
remember to not to see a show with him the next time I get
hungry).

*****MINI-REVIEW OF ABERDEEN STEAK HOUSE*****

Don't go unless you really want to part with most (or in
some cases, all) of your wallet. Or unless one of your roommates
decides to go off the deep end (in that case, go there, but make
sure you stay far enough away from him/her so that you can run
for your life). The food's all right, but the price isn't worth
it. Their over-priced menu has a large selection.

They've got comfy chairs, though.

*****MINI-REVIEW OF ABERDEEN STEAK HOUSE*****

That's not the end of it though. I will go back, and one way
or another, I'll get an unrestricted view seat at Her Majesty's
theatre for a showing of Phantom of the Opera. Even if I have to
go through the prone bodies of my roommates, even if I have to
move heaven and earth (well, maybe just the earth..), even if I
have to use someone else's credit card (Hi, Tom!), I'll get in
and see the damn show. It's either that, or get a ticket for a
December showing.....