That and That

Mr. Fosse had a vision. His canvas was the frame. That vision led to the screen. It led to Liza Minnelli. It led to Germany. It led to a historical piece. His result was the spectacle "Cabaret."

Did I know I was going to enjoy a show I knew nothing about?

Did I know the musical told a story?

Did I know what was going to happen?

Of course not. To all three.

The final shot ended. The screen went to black. I was grateful. Appreciation devoured me. A deeper understanding consumed my mind. For the show and effect. The artists played their parts, sure. All of them--stage direction and technical equipment to lighting and make-up artists to the cameras. Witnessed the show Bob wanted us all to experience did my eyes in their awe and midst of the show, no pun intended.

I was and am grateful to Amazon Video. You can witness it for yourself.

I tip my hat to Bob Fosse. He showed me what creating a masterpiece entailed by going there. It wasn't just Liza's performance either. An awareness of the origins for her renowned fame was born as a result. It wasn't just identifying "Basil" from Austin Powers: Goldmember from way back when. Nor was it seeing the beautiful power of the stage dictating scene transitions. It was about embracing what was always there: the context of the times and rise of Nazi Germany and living through an episode of that era. When Fosse and his crew said "Action!", they transported us to another world, an altogether different time and place where Samsung Galaxy's and iPhone's with Emoji's didn't exist. Ha!, the idea of our digital era now co-existing in the time of Nazi Germany.

Then, I look at this other screen. All I see is slang. Lingo. Words of a language I do not recognize. It is, in all actuality, a world in which I did not understand and still do not. This mind and soul, this being, is an outsider looking in. At least, that's how it feels. Unquestionably, that is how it feels. It is a community of folks I was not raised alongside. It is a lifetime of memories I did not experience. Their world is not mine. Their views, how they learned what they did, how they were shown the things they picked up along the way.

None of that registers in this cerebral cortex, this chain of novel-like ideas and expressions mirroring those of the Graduate School aspiring. These passions are those on the page. Once those words start spewing out, one after the other, making a tale to follow, it is hard for this mind to stop the journey. Literacy takes over and the input of knowledge does its thing. Happily. Continually. With every waking minute possible to show, and talk, about understanding. Ah, the joys of receiving thy gift of foresight, of academia withstood from the genres and fields of discipline where the mind grants power unlike any other. All from words on a page. All from a tale worth telling. All from the genius creativity of Fosse & Company.

They don't share the passions in this blood. At least, that's the impression in their frame. In their context of things, "talking" is what they do. Does this mind and their possess mutual ground? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Certainly words exchanged do not suggest so. I see no semblance of Bob and Liza, the stage or production's existing in their worlds.

And that's just fine, my friends. I know not much more of the reality of their worlds. They know nothing of mine. That, at least, can be a presumptive notion. One which I can happily defend. For I am a cautious one, even in the incredible world of Facebook and its colleagues. But, for the here and now, I remain grateful for that experience. For that undertaking at Cabaret. For allowing my babes to show me part of the world of Bob Fosse and his talent for putting creativity to reality.