Author’s note: The opening paragraph was written before Anna Cappella chose to write another review. No I will not change it.
The loathsome and feckless cabal that is The Tartan writing staff once again neglected their duty to report on campus goings-on by failing to write a review for the most notable campus event of Halloweekend — Scotch’n’Soda’s production of “Carrie,” the Musical. The prospect of a two-hour spook-tacular show for the mere price of $5 where you can get drunk and heckle the cast wasn’t enough to entice any of our staff to go and report on the matter. So, regrettably, tragically, this task once again has fallen to me, a simple player of keys who barely understood the plot of the show.
This stage adaptation of the horror cult-classic tells the story of Carrie (Jacqueline Germer), a socially outcast teenage girl with telekinetic powers who must contend with both her overbearing, religious mother Margaret(Lillian McDermott, whose performance was so intense I am now moderately afraid of her), as well as the relentless bullying of hyper-mean-girl Chris Harkensen (Marissa Fernandez). Carrie is asked to prom by the kind-himbo Tommy Ross (Chase Crandall), who asked her out at the insistence of the mean-girl-turned-nice Sue Snell (Adrianna Holtzman). Carrie reluctantly agrees, not knowing that Chris and her mean-himbo boyfriend Billy Nolan (Joshua Malley) are planning a sadistic prank. When Carrie is humiliated in front of the school, she unleashes her powers in a climactic and destructive finale.
The show was filled with fantastic performances, heartbreaking duets, sweeping ensemble numbers, and extremely impressive technical effects to simulate Carrie’s telekinesis. Do not ask me how they made the Jesus statue float, as it was not visible on the 12″x18″ monitor they gaff-taped to the back of the set for us.
To credit every person who sank hours upon hours of their valuable (and finite) lifespan into this production would make for very dry writing. I will, however, specifically commend the work of the music director/technical director power duo of Chris Renaud and Ella Sanfilippo, without whom the show would have mostly been first-years singing a capella in an unlit, undressed Rangos Hall.
But of course, the show was truly stolen by the pit, a rowdy band of seven musicians hiding behind the set who showed up last, left first, and secretly had more fun than anybody else in the company (who also made a tidy profit selling VIP tickets to those who wanted to sit backstage). This esteemed author was credited in the program as “Keys 2,” from which the omission of “board” was certainly a reference to his chill, laid-back attitude about the whole thing. My highly technical role included, most critically, hitting a button to activate “bigexplosion.wav” during the finale. We were led by Chris Renaud and assistant MD Trey Dubose, two individuals at the intersection of theater kid and music kid, perfectly suited for their roles.
But truly, the cast as a whole did an amazing job (read Anna’s review for a genuine analysis), and a good time was had by all.
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