Meet Nautanki Nani, Goer of the theatre, knower of the tricks and the trade.
Her purse, filled with quips and solicited advice along with a list of credentials; theatre critic, drama teacher, the tough love friend and now, resident agony aunt. She's bound to be spotted here once in a while to answer your questions. And usually, she has a lot to say, see for yourself:
Dear Nautanki Nani, The plays that I watch are often more than an hour long. it's only natural for the hunger pangs to kick in, so I am not really sure why theatre's don't allow us to carry some munchies inside. Please shed some light?
Funny that you asked, but this reminds me of the infamous bottomless cup of ice cream, which, spoiler alert, wasn’t bottomless at all. Let’s just say, a ‘friend’ bought a small tub at halftime during a play and paid, if not a queen’s ransom, at least the keep of a minor royal for it. In the midst of a particularly intense scene of Faustian proportions, I could hear her pop the cardboard lid, polish the ice cream off in just a few spoonfuls, and then proceed to scrape away at the bottom unsettlingly for a good five minutes, as if that would get her more of her money’s worth! That’s like nails on the chalkboard (or dry sketch pens on polystyrene as seasoned stagehands would attest to) in an otherwise silent theatre, and people were looking at me!
Crisps are an even bigger culprit. It’s difficult enough to open a packet of Lay’s (I prefer the blue ones), and then the crunching and rustling goes on forever. And when it comes to cheese and nachos, it’s like unleashing an umami fog that has nothing to do with the goings-on on stage.
So unless you want to distress a person’s delicate auditory and olfactory senses, which are so heightened in the theatre, it might be a matter of good etiquette to refrain from eating during a show. Some venues have rightfully outlawed it. And don’t even get me started on that travesty called supper theatre—you’ll need a full meal to digest that rant! As an afterthought, we must make an exception for water—I often smuggle in a small bottle to soothe my throat. I make sure to avoid spillages, and leave the premises as I found it—no stashing empty bottles under the seats!
Dear Nautanki Nani, I am a little exhausted of dating apps. Every date ends at a local drinking shack and disappointment. This time a friend is setting me up with someone and he's a theatre nerd so we thought we'd catch a play. What are some of the red flags I should look out for? Looking for red flags is so last season, especially when the collective wisdom of our times could fill entire guidebooks. Love-bombers or breadcrumbers, narcissists or gold-diggers, we can spot them a mile away. Methinks we are a bit too critical these days. These days, I'd rather focus on green flags, which seem to be in short supply, but should really be all the rage. For instance, how does your date respond to potentially polarising material? Do they only relate with swashbuckling male protagonists, or do they also take the time and show sensitivity to understand the leading women? How much does your date buy into dichotomies like ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus’? For queer pairings, how important is it for your date to feel ‘seen’ on stage? For better or worse, much of today's theatre is dialectic (and not just about gender issues), comparing and contrasting both sides to create well-balanced arguments—or so they say. This can lead to intriguing conversations post-show, over cheap beer and chicken lollipops (basics for inveterate theatrewallahs), and it is always good to maintain a veneer of amicability without sacrificing your own convictions. More than the popcorn entertainment that is the mainstay of the local cinema, an outing to the theatre stimulates the mind, and often, that can be very revealing. When you catch a glimpse of an individual’s world-view, you’ll likely find yourself less concerned with whether they burped out of turn, held out a chair, or offered to split the bill—though all those little things do add up. Ultimately, it's the deeper insights and genuine connections that matter most. But if you’re still obsessed with red flags, you might want to check out Red Flags, if it ever graces a venue near you.
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