That’s Not Right!

That’s not right!

One of my favorite Broadway musicals and stories ever existed is definitely Matilda. Broadway, which I went to yesterday, has an amazing way of making everything seem so super magical to you. However, and I know that many agree with me on this, Matilda had some qualities that made everything seem like it was created by someone’s super powers.

Power. Even the actress who played Matilda, a nine year old girl, had one of the most beautiful voices I had ever heard. It had some kind strength and power in it that almost made me week in the knees and wanted me to scream with joy.
As well as the singing by small children, most no older than ten, the scenery displayed something of quiet, almost unforgivable power. It didn’t shout or claim anything, but yet stood there in peaceful glory. It was, in fact, probably comparable to Mona Lisa’s smile- something that will keep people wondering for years to come.
Finally, the lights were something of a power miracle. For instance, when the children rebel the Trunchbull and Chokey, light rays were used to create an illusion of imprisonment and harsh reality. It was both amazing and not easy.

Irony, Boldness, and Humor.

I chose looks over books. That’s why I look better than you.

That was a line that is probably my mom’s new motto, if you reversed it to “books over looks”. It was said by Matilda’s mother upon Ms.Honey’s visit to Matilda’s house in effort to meet the girl’s parents. Matilda’s mother, an almost exact portray of the modern (usually stereotyped), TV-obsessed American, wears a spazzy outfit of a bell skirt with clashy sparkles and a pink dancing blouse. You immediately get an opinion of her in the first opening scene, where she is in the hospital, 9 months pregnant. The doctor, a life-obsessed kind of man, is excited about her being about to give birth. The mother, on the other hand, wants to go to her international dance competition. The doctor tells her to look at herself; and she in turn proclaims, “Am I fat?” The doctor, in an almost teasing sort of way, says, “You’re 9 months pregnant.” She immediately wails, “Is there anything I can do? Drugs, alcohol, tablets, or anything like that?”

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