Erik's Favorite Things: Pacific Northwest Ballet's Nutcracker

Everybody has things that mean a lot to them.  It might be the book they've read a hundred times and can recite from memory, the movie that they know every bit of trivia about including who the replacement grip was during a scene shot in a hallway in a real office building, or a television show they always stop at when a rerun comes on because it fills them with a warm nostalgic glow.

Sometimes the source really is something as good as they remember, but sometimes the only thing that fuels that fondness is a blindness to the flaws something has as time progressed and a refusal to admit that something they find precious isn't the greatest thing ever invented.

You know, like Final Fantasy VII.

I'm just as guilty of it as other people, I'll admit.  But hey, this is my blog, so I'll talk about what I want to talk about (see: episode synopsis of Mighty Max episodes), and I'll let my readers decide if I'm right or if I'm just too lost in fond memories to see straight.

So let's look at something that's maybe a bit holiday related.  What have you got for me, magic Internet voice?

Sweet!

Every year I can remember living in Washington State I remember my family going to the Pacific Northwest Ballet's production of the Nutcracker.  I wasn't quite as enamored as my sister, to whom anything Nutcracker related is automatically the most awesome thing to ever exist, and during my younger years I remember being bored for many songs.

That's the thing about traditions, though, is that when you're older and you do them, you start to appreciate them more.  I've been to see the Nutcracker performed in Boston, San Francisco, Portland (Maine), and multiple productions broadcasts of productions from around the world.

Some of these were the more traditional broadcasting, but some of them were just...downright bizarre.  Like Matthew Bourne's Nutcracker, which was like Tim Burton met Sucker Punch.

Yyyeah.

The Pacific Northwest Ballet's production, however, is quite possibly the best I've seen, if only because of the scope of it.  I remember the tree becoming huge when Clara is shrunk down to toy/rat size.  I remember furniture being shifted around to loom over her as well.  

I also remember always thinking that painted toy on there was a bit of a jerk for also not coming to life to help during the big fight scene.

I remember the strange furry creature that danced around during one song.

I remember the strange, contortion-like movements of the woman dressed up like a peacock.  

I remember falling asleep during the dance of the snowflakes and the flowers, partly because it seemed to go on forever and because I had no idea who these characters were or why I should care.

Even as a kid I was a bit weird about story continuity.

However, the thing I remember most about the production was the rat king.  Everybody knows the battle between the toys and the rats, but where most series decide to go for a guy in a rat costume dancing around, the Pacific Northwest Ballet decided to go a bit more...epic.

That's right, it's a giant animated rat that opens its mouth, opens and closes its eye, and moves its paws around as it swipes at soldiers and the Nutcracker.

For a young boy forced to watch ballet, that thing made everything worth it.

There is one other thing that I liked about it, in that (spoiler alert) at the end, Clara wakes up and it turns out the whole thing was a dream.  Other productions I've seen have gone with much creepier endings, including her going off with her Godfather Drosselmeyer in what seems like some twisted love story, her going off with the transformed Nutcracker Prince, never to see her family again or let them know what happened to her, or simply just ending with no resolution whatsoever.

This is the production I compare all other productions to, and one that I look forward to seeing again someday, keeping the tradition alive even if I wind up seeing it on my own or with my own family someday.  To me, it's not Christmas until I either hear the music or see some kind of showing of this story.

...except for the Matthew Bourne version.  I can go without seeing that again.

Speaking of which, it's time for Erik Overthinks Christmas Carols!

I mentioned "Do You Hear What I Hear" yesterday, and let's look a bit deeper at this song.

You have the wind talking to a lamb about a star (good thing it wasn't a pig, they can't look up), the lamb talking to a shepherd boy, and the shepherd boy talking to the King before the King talks to everybody.

Okay, assuming that a star somehow managed to turn into a spotlight and focus all of its light to be able to shine down on the spot where Jesus was born (according to the lyrics) without sparking the Aurora Borealis...

And assuming that the shepherd boy didn't freak out about a lamb suddenly talking to him...

First off, what kid can get away with asking a King "Do you know what I know?"  That seems so smug, worded that way, and would probably get you tossed in prison, regardless of your freakish ability to communicate with livestock.

Finally, the King wants to bring Jesus silver and gold?  Which King was this?  It certainly wasn't King Herod, who ordered having every boy aged two and under murdered... and if they were in Herod's realm, you'd think that another King leading a bunch of people into his nation to greet a baby would a) tip Mary and Joseph's hand as to where they were hiding out, and b) probably cause a war.

...every time I hear this song I wind up sitting and thinking about it for ages, trying to mesh it with my knowledge of the time period and never being able to get them to fit together, like trying to mash Carly Rae Jespen and Nine Inch Nails together.  It just doesn't work.