Snow White and the 8 Dwarves

Drama has been a part of my life for a number of years. It began with a bit part as one of about a dozen Uncle Sam’s in preschool, and travelled through being a cowboy in the second grade and one of the three kings from the orient are (I’ve looked on Google earth and still have no idea where Are is exactly). I’ve been a cranky old man, a dwarf, a Captain in the U.S. Army in Okinawa, and a fan at a Yankees’ game looking for tickets. In college I played an ant, a clown (type casting), and a harangued father. I’ve acted in, directed, and written more than my share of productions. Some turned out better than expected, while others were fortunate to make it through final dress rehearsal. I’ve also been privileged enough to see some incredible professionals such as Dame Judith Anderson at the end of her career. I sat in awe at Mystere and la Nouba as acrobats from Cirque de Sole performed so close to me that I could reach out and touch them - which I wouldn’t recommend doing. It seems they frown upon that sort of thing. Who knew? And, like many of you, I have viewed Middle and High School presentations that reminded me of my earlier days when I stood nervously on a stage hoping the audience wouldn’t see my knees quaking or hear my voice shaking. However, never, in my entire life, have I been so in awe and so entertained at a production than I was a few weeks ago. That was when I had the opportunity to watch a drama presentation by a class of special needs children at Oak Grove High School. With members of the Oak Grove Junior Civitan club assisting these students with their lines, these actors worked their way through the story of Snow White and the eight dwarves (seems that Disney got it wrong). Specially written dialogue was delivered with great timing. Dance moves like I have never seen before were performed with a grace that you would not think possible. Never before did woodland critters look so cute, a princess so lovely, or Prince Charming more, well, charming. The line, “I’ve got some bad news ” was much better than the way I had always heard the Magic Mirror speak to the evil queen. The eighth dwarf, Diva, was most appropriately named. And the kiss from the prince on Snow White’s forehead was the most romantic you will ever see on stage. With my apologies to the late Dame Judith Anderson, this was by far the greatest off-Broadway production ever. It made for an entertaining evening with a beautiful young date sitting to my right (yes, I had my wife’s approval), and made me resolve to clear my calendar for the next production. I highly recommend you also make plans to attend. I guarantee you will get your money’s worth. And, if you don’t, I will personally refund the price of admission. Kudos to the Special Needs class at Oak Grove. You’ve got this theater critic sold.