“I’m checking to see if there are any reviews of the show yet,” I replied, scanning the search results before finding what I was looking for. “Ah! Okay, here we go, I’ve found one. Say a prayer it’s favourable. I’m just gonna bite the bullet and read it aloud.”
“Go ahead.” Damon laughed softly at my antics, pressing a tender kiss to my shoulder. He didn’t give a hoot about reviews, I could tell. He wasn’t that sort of person. He didn’t perform for praise. But I, well, this was my first ever performance. I knew I wasn’t anywhere near being a focal point in the show, but I was eager to see if I’d gotten a mention.
“When I first heard that the esteemed Jacob Anthony was planning to direct a stage adaptation of Moulin Rouge, I’ll admit I was wary. So many questions entered my head. How will they re-create the frantic, surreal fast pace only modern film editing can achieve? Who will play the roles so synonymous with their original actors? And is it even possible to license such an extensive and varied score?
“Well, let me just say here and now that the very moment the house lights dimmed and Henry Green stepped onto the stage in a bizarre representation of the legendary artist Toulouse-Lautrec, all those questions fled my mind. I was rapt from the very first song. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I experienced such an all-consuming and visceral reaction to a performance.
“Anthony’s Moulin Rouge is a riot of colour, emotion, and charm. The cast are magnificently adept, from the lead actors to the chorus line. I was particularly moved by Damon Atwood’s stage debut, whom we haven’t seen in the public eye for almost a decade. Atwood was a stunning actor in his youth, but with the passing of years has transformed into a thespian of finest quality. His voice is unparalleled, often outshining the talent of those performing alongside him. There were several moments where you could almost hear a pin drop, the onlookers were so enthralled by his performance.”
I paused reading to glance at Damon over my shoulder and grin. He was trying not to let it show that he enjoyed the praise, but I knew it meant something to him to hear a faceless reviewer speak so highly of him. I returned my attention to the review.
“And then we have the much-beloved Hollywood star, Alicia Davidson, also making her stage debut as Satine. I was highly impressed both with her vocal chops and her ability to bring equal parts vulnerability and strength to a character who is ruthlessly ambitious yet behind it all hopelessly romantic. And let’s not forget the fact that she’s mighty fine to look at, too. The male members of the audience certainly weren’t left wanting for eye candy.
“Last but not least, I must comment on the sheer magnificence of the production’s choreography. I felt as though I were transported back in time as the dancers not only owned every inch of the stage, but every inch of the theatre, too. In a bold move, we audience members got to enjoy being surrounded by a bevy of be-frilled and be-corseted can-can dancers, making their way around the room like the entire building was their very own turn-of-the-century night club. In particular, the dancer who played Nini Legs-in-the-Air was uniquely striking, especially during her performance of ‘El Tango de Roxanne.’”
Damon wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed tight as I stared at the screen of my phone, flabbergasted. I knew it was only one line, but I’d gotten a mention in the review. This was massive. One of the biggest things to ever happen to me. The review was on The Guardian’s website. I’d gotten mentioned in a theatre review in the flippin’ Guardian!
“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I got a mention,” I exclaimed breathlessly.
“And why not? You should’ve gotten more than just one line, but perhaps I’m biased,” said Damon, kissing my neck. “Of course the reviewer noticed you. Your dancing is probably the best he’s ever seen.”
My phone dropped from my hand as Damon dragged me down and under his big, firm body. My legs straddled his waist as he bent to kiss me long and deep. I moaned into his mouth just as a knock sounded on my bedroom door. Julian didn’t even bother waiting to be invited inside — he simply burst into the room, waving