On Friday I sped home from work and spruced myself up a bit before zipping down to Beverly’s. Our goal was to get to the Angeleno hotel to pick up UCLA parking tickets and get some food before attending King Lear at Royce Hall (UCLA). (If you click the link – the reception was actually right there beside the pool – weird environment as you can hear the traffic from the adjacent 405 freeway) Beverly had been given the tickets at work earlier in the week and now all we had to do was get to the Angelino. It wouldn’t be that easy. Wilshire boulevard was completely gridlocked so I maneuvered around on surface streets desperately trying to find an open northward route. Eventually we found ourselves cruising up some strange UCLA off-campus street. We were at the point of getting lost – unwrapping the city maps in my glovebox – when I looked up and saw the Morril-toweresque silhouette of the Angeleno Hotel. We arrived with time to spare – but most of the food had been consumed. We grabbed some grapes and returned to the valet almost before he had finished parking my car in the first place. The trip to UCLA was full of empty streets and we arrived on campus within minutes. It would take us longer (and some help from students) to find Royce Hall.
We waltzed in and found our seats – about eight rows back from the stage on the left of center. The lights quickly dimmed and I was enjoying the spectacle of my first play. The crowd eagerly anticipated this show as it featured in the lead Sir Ian Mckellen (you may know him as Gandalf or Magneto) And then it kept going. and going. and going. And then suddenly there it was – Sir Ian’s senior citizen testicles. I had read a sign on the wall upon entering noting that “tonight’s performance may contain nudity” – but none of us thought it would mean seeing a spotlight of the king’s jewels. I guess I should have done my research as this has already been covered in numerous reviews including this one. Once the crowd regained consciousness Beverly and I (and her coworkers) exchanged yawns and fidgeted in our seats until at about 9:45 (the play started at 7:30) when we got a reprieve (intermission).
As we walked up the isle Beverly nudged me and said “what is that guy’s name?” John Lithgow was coming up just a bit behind us (and yes, he is even taller in person). I headed off to the bathroom. While in line I noticed that a few heads in front of me was …someone.. who was that? I just couldn’t think of where I’d seen the guy. Upon exiting and finding Beverly again I nudged her to see if she knew. She instantly recognized Dr. Octopus – Alfred Molina (you may also know him as Diego Rivera from Frida). I saw a few more actors in the crowded hallway that I just couldn’t name (and neither could Beverly). When we sat back down I glanced across the aisle – about five seats to our right was none other than Elaine Benis – Julia Louis Dreyfus. We also spotted Alfred Molina again and noted that his seat was about seven rows behind ours.
After another few hours with much blood and thunder the show was over. The play was acted well – but there is only so much unintelligible dialog from a nondescript time period I can take (did they REALLY have pistols in the time of King Lear??).
This was not the end of our night, however, as we had tickets that not even Elaine Benis could get (although John Lithgow did make a brief appearance) – backstage reception with the cast! As we munched on (really really good) catering we waited for Sir Ian to wander out. After about an hour (and the rest of the cast becoming thoroughly integrated with the crowd) Sir Ian wandered out. Beverly wanted to say hello – but we were rebuffed on our first few tries as (understandably) he is a popular guy. Eventually I dragged her to within twenty feet of him and tried to edge her on. She didn’t want to interrupt the conversation he was having while sitting in the corner munching. It was then that we saw someone else come up and shake his hand. This broke down Beverly’s embarrassment and she (and I) raced over to shake the Wizard’s hand. With that done it was time to leave. Beverly had only had three hours of sleep the night before – and I didn’t fare much better. By the time we got to test Magneto’s iron grip it was already past 1 AM.
We were too timid to ask for a photograph with Sir Ian, but we had a bit of fun chasing a monstrous bunny rabbit around the UCLA parking garage.
