There are a couple different things that come to mind when people think of dinner theater. One of them is washed up actors performing to people who aren't paying a lick of attention and being forced to smell their food for hours while they sweat under hot lights. This was not the experience I was looking for. There is another thing that comes to mind when people think of dinner theater -- a unique, exquisitely performed piece of theater that comes with a gourmet meal, served to a highly entertained audience. That sounds just utterly fantastic to me.
I've been to a lot of shows in my life. For one, when I was younger, my parents lived a short train ride from New York City (we were in downstate Connecticut), so we'd see a decent number of shows on Broadway. Once I got a little older, things dropped off a bit, but I've maintained an appreciation for theater. I love a good show. I'm not super hard to please either - entertain me for a couple hours? Sounds delightful.
There are certain types of shows that I've generally avoided though. Mostly because I've tended to think that I won't be entertained for those couple hours. On the list so far are: Glenn Beck's Not-Actually-Comedy Tour of live shows, Rugrats on Ice, Barbie on Ice, Disney on Ice, any live performance adapted from Star Wars and anything too... Circus-y. See, there are things I like about the circus and things that are just weird about it. Plus there are clowns - that's always a hit-or-miss proposition. Y'all would be shocked at just how many people are afraid of clowns.
That was a big part of the reason I never hit up Teatro ZinZanni when I lived out in CA. That and the fact that my parents share my aforementioned understanding of the clown situation. That being said, for essentially the whole time I was in high school and college, every time I went to San Francisco I'd walk past the Teatro ZinZanni tent and wonder what was inside. I assumed there would be the typical circus atmosphere and that's it. I was seriously wrong. But then again, most of my entries start with me explaining how wrong one of my assumptions has been. Its a pattern I've been noticing.
Hey, look, at the not-a-clown.
Turns out there are some similarities between ZinZanni and the circus, but very few. They had some of the more classic circus acts, but it was definitely a show and a meal for adults. It was also an incredibly fun night. The tickets came with a five course meal, most of which I would've picked around six months ago. I wouldn't have known how deliciously tart the chutney was or how light the vinaigrette was on the spinach salad. I would never have tasted the unusual mixture of apple curry and butternut squash in the soup or experienced the surprising tang of the maple-syrup glaze on the chicken. I would totally have understood the joy of the chocolate mousse though. Just saying. There is no point in my life where I would've missed that experience.
There were no pictures allowed in the show; largely because the performances were so acrobatic. That's my thought anyway - they didn't explain it as much as just say no to them. But the performers were running and jumping around a lot during the meal and I doubt flashes in their eyes would've put them more on their game. The style and theme was more 1920's vaudeville and cabaret then it was circus. There was definitely a slickness to the costuming and performance that wouldn't be there in a regular three-ring.
Significantly less smooth than the performers.
The show bounced between PG-13 and R-rated material during the comedic parts. It really was hilarious. What's interesting is that the performers definitely had to be on their toes. They found people in the audience and joked with them, changed lines around based on answers from participants and answered back to catcalls from inebriated audience members; all without missing a beat. Perhaps, for me at least, the funniest part of the night was looking over at a table of 10-13 year-olds who'd been brought with their parents as a special treat. When the whole room cracked up at a dirty joke, they'd sit there stone-faced and confused. It was almost funnier than the actual joke.
Seeing the show impressed on me a couple things. The first is that it must be incredibly difficult to manage an audience that has the option of taking a flight of five different wines (one with each course) with their dinner. There was one, particularly obnoxious, gentleman who seemed to think his commentary was funnier than the show itself. His wife looked mortified. The performers, however, managed the situation amazingly well. They were able to ignore him most of the time, but when the engaged him they generally had a solid zinger in response. Seeing them handle a rowdy man who'd had a bit too much made it clear just how many things they're juggling as part of a dinner show. They really have to be on their game at all times.
The other thing I learned wasn't from the show at all. It was from the Australian couple sharing a table with us. I have never met a man more full of life and joyful than the one we sat with. He and his wife travel around for weeks on end just... experiencing things. They take long trips and see great things. He was hilarious, boisterous and I'm guessing he was the type to pull people's chains just for the heck of it. He spent a solid five minutes trying to explain to us how wrong peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches were. Two things that just shouldn't go together, he said. Seeing him and his wife at the show was great. It showed how important it is to make experiencing new things a priority. They've been to so many places and done and seen so many things - and they sure didn't seem to be slowing down either.
If you ever see this: Here's to you, Australian guy! You made my night.
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