Friday, February 1, 2013

A Fly On The Wall, February 1, 2013

It Should Taste Good
by Jim Murchison 

It is said that the filthiest phrase ever uttered on fifties TV was, "Ward, weren't you a little rough on the Beaver last night?"  This was back in a day where the "Code" required that married couples were not to be filmed in the same bed together unless one of them had at least one foot on the floor and the word pregnant in a script would have it returned to the producers to provide an appropriate euphemism.
A hundred years ago producers were wringing their hands, wondering if people would run out of the theatre screaming because Shaw had written the words "bloody nonsense" in Pygmalion. I am surprised today when I hear people say, "Good play, but the language was a bit strong." I don't go out of my way to say fuck in a review, but if the review needs to say fuck I'm going to write it for fuck's sake. 

I don't know people in war torn misery, in coal mines, in desperation or even people in Pointe Ste Charles that say, "I am so angry I could spit". They say "Fuck that!" A person in the trenches, shivering and sweating and tasting dirt, will spit it in your face and say, "Eat shit bastards". I don't know if that's tasteful, but it sure is tasty theatre and it's real.  

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