OOM: He's Here, the Autor of the Opera

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'm so ready for this lingering cough to quit," Rae mutters after clearing her throat and inviting Autor into her room. "It just doesn't want to give up yet."

She holds the door open for him with the hand holding the dvd box, the other carefully balancing two bowls - one large bowl of popcorn and a smaller bowl of many-flavored jelly beans - with ease of one who has worked in the food-service industry the majority of her life.

Comments

[herr_bookman]

Autor sniffles as he enters with a tea tray with a pot of jasmine green leaf, his fever finally having broken that morning. "I'm sorry you're sick, Rae," he says, empathizing. "That's never fun. I think a movie might be just what we need."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'm sorry you've been sick, too," she says, setting down the snacks and fetching a box of tissues so they'll be within reach. "Though I'm glad you missed out on all the 'fun' hallucinations."

She doesn't let the uncomfortable thoughts linger - that's the whole point of this evening.

"You said you've read the book this one is based on?" she asks, looking over the movie's box with a faint grin. "Dorian mentioned having watched it and liking the music. Liking to sing along with it for maximum drama, even."

[herr_bookman]

"Thanks," Autor says, setting the tea tray down on the nightstand so he can pour her a cup. "And yes, I've read it--twice now, actually, since you mentioned watching the movie. I wanted to see what differences there were."

He arches a brow. "Hmm. We shall see if the songs are worth singing along," he says, every bit the skeptical music student.

[sunbaked_baker]

"There are sure to be plenty of differences, I'd think. Books have more... I don't know, leeway than a stage musical? While the written story can be as long as it likes, stage musicals are usually... what? Three hours or so, with an intermission? That likely puts constraints on how much detail they can include."

She only has her own experience with one opera to judge from, so isn't sure.

"This version is a recording of the stage musical performed live at... the Royal Albert Hall, wherever that is," she adds, reading the description from the box as she removes the dvd and puts it in the player.

[herr_bookman]

Autor takes his shoes off and settles on the bed, waiting for her to join him. Applause greets them on the television; the stage is surrounded by an audience, above which hangs a circular burlap curtain labeled, "LOT 666 CHANDELIER."

The boy nods to Rae's point. "Ah, that makes sense. I suspect they've cut a lot. We'll have to see," Autor says, cocking his head. "The book certainly didn't start out with an auction. The book has a funny conceit--the narrator explains that they're a historian, and doesn't seem to take his characters too seriously."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae tosses some pillows down to the foot of the bed for their comfort before she kicks off her own shoes - literally kicks them away - and settles down beside him.

"The best stories are the kind you don't have to take entirely seriously," Rae smiles, taking up her cup of tea and wrapping her hands around it as they watch. The certain timbre voices tend to take on in stage acting is unfamiliar to her, and makes her smile at the slight oddness of it. "Six hundred and sixty-six lots at least - just how many pieces of that place are they selling off?"

[herr_bookman]

Paris, 1905 flashes on the screen, and Autor furrows his brow.

"Lot 663, then. Ladies and gentlemen, a poster of this house's production of Hannibal, by Chalumeau," the auctioneer says, and Autor gives Rae a look. "Hmm. I'd forgotten Hannibal was a play."

The poster goes to Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny, an older gentleman sitting in a chair. "That's Raoul?" Autor asks, shaking his head. "But he's so old. And his beard looks fake. This is probably the future, relatively speaking."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I'd never heard of it," Rae remarks sipping her tea. "The poster looks appropriately on fire, though."

"So, framing device, you think? If he's old in the current-future, then the story will be a flashback?"

The auctioneer on the screen continues, "Lot 664, ladies and gentlemen, a wooden pistol and three human skulls from the 1831 production..."

"Oh hey, it's Yorick, and he's made some friends! Good for him," Rae says, grinning into her tea.

[herr_bookman]

Autor chortles, popping a dark red jelly bean into his mouth. "I notice the skulls sold for more than the poster."

The attendant brings out a music box with a monkey in Persian robes holding cymbals attached, and Raoul bids and wins in a fierce bidding war--before singing to it. "Will you still play when the rest of us are dead?"

"Well," Autor says, shaking his head. "That was creepy. And I think you're right; the main story must be in a flashback. I wonder why they chose to frame it that way."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Ohhh I have a guess why they did it like that," Rae says, eyebrows lifting slightly.

Rather creepy music begins to play faintly in the background of the scene, as the auctioneers says doomfully, "Lot 666, then. A chandelier in pieces... Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera... A mystery never fully explained."


"It's for the drama."

[herr_bookman]

"Drama," Autor says, waving a hand. "Pfft. Drama is overrated."

Also overrated are the fireworks that accompany the revealing of the chandelier, but Autor lights up as it does. "Electric lights are actually akin to science fiction back in my time, so in 1905 they would have been amazing, almost unreal."

And then: Dun! Dun dun dun dun duuuun! The overture starts, and Autor cracks up. "W-What is--" he says, just as the camera pans to golden statues of angels and the chandelier--still exploding with fireworks. "Oh, that's hilarious. What kind of a production is this, I ask you."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae, though, can't help the wide grin that appear on her face at the beginning of the overture. "You can have drama which is okay, then too much drama which is bad, then you have so much more than too much drama and unnecessary fireworks and bombastic music and lights - which is where it circles right back around into being a good thing. That statue's eyes look terrifying, I have to say, but this is fantastic."

She can totally see why Dorian would want to play this loudly in his home.

[herr_bookman]

The Phantom makes his glorious appearance, sitting near a wire frame covered with candles and sheet music--which he pretends to play. "That can't be the organ," Autor says, giggling, and looks to his friend fondly. "This is ridiculous, Rae. You know it, I know it."

Autor nods in approval when they show the musicians in the pit, as well as the conductor.

The music ends abruptly with a woman in full costume with sparkly beads and a huge patchwork skirt mangling a scale. "Oh, no, her vibrato is awful, oh, gosh, why did they even cast her, augh," Autor whines. "This must be Hannibal."

[sunbaked_baker]

"The larger-than-life Phantom, the title character, overseeing the introduction of the flashback as the overture plays," Rae grins, listening appreciatively. "Still silly though, yeah. That little... desk thing he was sitting at pretending to play the organ... invites rather crude puns I shouldn't try to make you blush by mentioning."

She takes an innocent sip of tea. The phantom's mighty organ sure is loud for such a remarkably small thing.

"Ick. Is she trying to sound like a musical saw?" Rae winces. "Is that supposed to be a severed head she's cradling? And who is that guy creeping down the stairs in the... oh gods, that skirt is short. Wow."

[herr_bookman]

"What? What puns?" Autor asks, half a step away from blushing anyway. "I'm all for puns, even if they're crude, but... But... Why, yes, that skirt is rather short, isn't it? I was paying more attention to the whip he's holding, thank you very much."

Autor does manage to keep from blushing when the man leaps across the stage, sending the aforementioned skirt flying up around his waist as a troupe of ballerinas in skimpy costumes flit about, singing about Hannibal's entrance. "Oh, gosh," the boy says, and swallows. "Nice footwork, though."

The man takes his whip and holds it up near the opera singer. "Is... Is he flirting with her? She, uh, looks like she's enjoying the attention."

And there's the blush.

[sunbaked_baker]

"He's certainly enjoying the attention, too - damn, he's certainly... flexible," color Rae impressed, her eyebrows rising nearly as high as the man's skirt as he executes another leap. A heavier man in armor soon arrives on stage with great pomp, to sing.

'Sad to find the land we looove, threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grrrrasp.'

"That must be Hannibal," Rae says, munching popcorn. A dry smirk appears on her face. "A good likeness, don't you think?"

"Doesn't like being corrected, either."

[herr_bookman]

"Uh, yes," Autor says, rubbing his reddened cheek. "He, um, certainly is that. Flexible."

Cough.

Autor's smirk matches Rae's. "Hmm. I don't know. I think this version looks better in makeup," the boy says, carefully selecting another jelly bean. The opera goes on, and the dancers twirl about. "He appears to have his sword stuck in his sheath."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae glances at him, smiling at his blush, but doesn't draw attention to it. She stays quiet through most of the song, except once when the chorus sings:

'Carthage sends
Hannibal's friends'

And Rae leans over to nudge Autor, grinning. "And no one shows up, of course. Not even the elephants."

Then the retiring manager and the two new managers appear with great hustle and bustle from the performers, who only settle down when Madame Giry bangs her staff on the stage.

"...That's... a lot of character implied there without her even saying a word. Nice."

[herr_bookman]

Autor chortles into his tea. "Yes, indeed, and if his former friends decide to show up, they come armed."

The staff banging causes him to raise his brows. "That's Madame Giry?" Autor exclaims, watching the severe woman on the screen with stiffly braided hair. "In the book, she's much more flighty, and is always described by her dingy bonnet."

The retiring manager introduces Carlotta as the opera singer with the terrible vibrato, and Autor nods. "Ah, that makes sense. Though they're introducing Carlotta a great deal earlier than they did in the book. I wonder why."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Flighty with a dingy bonnet, to this... severe and no-nonsense woman? That's certainly a leap. I wonder why they did that."

Rae offers the bowl of popcorn over to Autor.

"Carlotta's repertoire apparently is limited to 'desperate for attention, and doesn't extend so far as 'subtle,' does it? Ye gods," she mutters, making a face. "Can someone please stop her?"

Suddenly, almost mercifully, the singing is cut short by a thud and the collective shrieking of the performers.

"What."

[herr_bookman]

"And she suddenly became Spanish," Autor remarks as Carlotta magically assumes an accent.

"He's there, the Phantom of the Opeeraa!" Meg Giry sings, again and again, while the managers call for order and Carolotta starts throwing a fit.

"This things do 'appen? All the time!" she shrieks. "....Until you stopa these things from 'appening, this thin' does not 'appen!"

And exit stage right, with a lot of hustle and bustle.

"Oh, goodness," Autor says, taking some popcorn gratefully as Mme. Giry informs the managers that the Opera Ghost requires his salary and box five to be left open. "I do hope we're not in for more of Carlotta, but I suspect we will be."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Who's the blonde dancer?" Rae asks, curious. "The one who insists on title-dropping out of nowhere. All these opera people are so dramatic!" And... not in a healthy way.

"Madame Giry totally knows what's up. The opera ghost apparently told her his message in person." Sunshine glances at Autor, eyebrow raised. "She's not secretly the ghost, herself, is she?"

'Christine Daae could sing it, sir.'

"There's that blonde again, out of nowhere."

'A ballet girl?'

'Well, she's been taking lessons from a great teacher.'

[herr_bookman]

"From whom?" the manager asks Christine.

"I don't know, sir," Christine says hesitantly.

"I think the blonde is Meg Giry," Autor says, adjusting his glasses at her. "And no, I'm fairly certain the Opera Ghost is male, given who we saw playing on the wire frame earlier."

Mme. Giry steps forward to add her praise to Christine's singing, and convinces the managers to let her try the aria. Meg Giry hands her a scarf for no reason. "Oh, Christine's voice is much prettier than Carlotta's, naturally."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae raises an eyebrow at the idea that Christine has no idea who her teacher is.

"Calling it. The teacher's the ghost. And look at Madame Giry - she totally knows!"

And is rather fierce with that staff, Rae sees.

"Is that meant to be the Vicomp, or whatever, up in the box? He's happily no longer looking half-dead, I see."

[herr_bookman]

Meg, one of the managers, and Mme. Giry approach Christine, talking indistinctly to her and tying a skirt matching Carlotta's onto her hips before she bursts into full, glorious song with the supporting swell of the orchestra.

"Oh, that was a neat transition. Wait, does she still have that bead-skirt thing she had on as a slave girl on under there?" he wonders aloud, and then, blushing, mutters, "Must be uncomfortable."

Autor pops another jelly bean into his mouth and offers the bowl to Rae. "That's probably the Vicomte, yes."

Christine finishes the song to thunderous applause, and turns around to a screen projecting the audience clapping for her. "I wonder why they had her turn her back to the real audience to take her bows."