Brightest Young Things

Hey There! Hi There! Ho there!  Welcome to a BYT Special Post-Valentine's Day report on love.  Love was in the air this past weekend, we know you know.  You probably had reservations for a two-top at Masa 14 to celebrate your romance along with every other Jimmy Valentine and Little Miss Whiskey in the city.  The love we're talking about, though, is a different type of love.  It's a stronger, deeper bond than any of you will probably ever know.  We are talking about the love between little children and a giant media empire:

After the whole mess of legal entanglements that we had to go through when biting the Disney font for the Bentzen Ball, what with the cease and desist and the threat of federal courts, we had to pull down our Disney On Ice feature title and substitute with a different Mickey and Minnie.  Rest assured, Minnie Driver did NOT put a golf club through the back of Mickey Rourke's Cadillac in a public spat that ended in a downed tree and a concussion.  They aren't even dating.  Although it would be kind of cute.  Adorable babies would most likely result.

This weekend I had the proud distinction of being the one and only person who made the crossover between the DC Record Fair and Disney on Ice in the same weekend. 

So here it is, without further adieu, we present for your viewing pleasure, a drama, in four parts: Disney on Ice.  Or as we like to call it: Mickey and Minnie: On the Rocks.

ACT I: All the World's A Rink, and We Are Merely Skaters

You're sitting at home, it's the day before Valentine's day, whatcha gonna do? Well, if you're me, and you're not, but if you are, you call up a friend and invite her to the traveling version of the most magical show on Earth.  Your friend likes hockey and ice skating, but the NHL is on break for the Winter Olympics and your choices for winter sport spectating range between watching Luge, Biathlon & Nordic Combined coverage at ESPN Zone (a subsidiary of Disney Corporation, btw) or watching real ice skating at the Verizon Center.  Going skiing was also an option, I guess, but after a week at Sundance riding fresh powder at Deer Valley, East Coast skiing loses a bit of its appeal.

And so it was, over the weekend, BYT braved the snow-ridden streets of Washington D.C. (you're a pussy, Chris Matthews) and made our way downtown to the Verizon Center for that right of passage that is a travelling Disney show: Disney on Ice.   It's simultaneously every daughter's biggest dream and every father's worst nightmare.  90-minutes of giant stuffed animals and women dressed up as princesses (and actual princesses dressed up as princes) all crammed together on a giant iceplex. .

Suburban dads from all over the metropolitan area made their way into the arena with sunken shoulders, furrowed brows and rugrats in tow.

Between taking the brats to see the Mouse on Saturday and the wife to see that shitty Ashton Kutcher Valentine's Day movie on Sunday, you could almost hear the collective scream of 5,000 pissed off middle-aged men echoing down 7th Street.  Let's just hope these guys didn't have to do watch the trainwreck that was the Olympic Opening Ceremonies with their families on Friday night to complete the 'somebody please kill me' trifecta.

We are pretty sure that the only reason that these fathers bring their daughters to an event like 'Disney on Ice' is the possibility of seeing lithe skaters, like Italian Carolina Kostner, in spandex bodysuits and tight costumes.  Too bad she's at the Olympics.

We got off the metro and immediately had to put on our sunglasses to shield our eyes from the blinding terror of this hideous little monster.  Daddy got her her own fucking limousine to the show, and she wasn't about to bring any of her classmates with her.  You can tell by the look on this brat's face that she's in charge, and she'll be damned if she's gonna share the ride with any of those little hangers-on that like to fancy themselves as friends.  No way.  Not ever.  This Princess rides alone.  If there was a 'fan-of-the-fucking-game' for Disney on Ice, Queen Bee here would reign supreme.  We salute you, FutureBitch.

The first thing you notice when you get through the line and actually into the place is the merch.  It's worse than a Rolling Stones concert. I've never seen a long line for merchandise at an event.  Talk about fanatical.  And you can pretty much get anything you want.  I'm surprised they weren't selling Minnie Mouse panties.

They don't completely leave the dads out, though:

Once you make it through the fog of Disney merchandise and descend the stairs to your seats (or ascend if you bought the shitty tickets) you find yourself properly immersed.  Properly immersed in an ocean of children anticipating the greatest show on Earth.

You see, Disney on Ice is everything that Uncle Walt and Co. have been jamming down these kids' throats since they were toddlers distilled into 90 minutes of pure little-girl joy.  This, my friends, is the fucking Superbowl for 9-year-old girls, and today is gameday.  It's awesome.  If GEICO and E*Trade had any sense whatsoever they'd be targeting these rugrats with Car Insurance commercials on the Jumbotron.  The perfect captive audience, get 'em while they're impressionable.  And if there's one word to describe these youths, it's impressionable.

I-M-P-R-E-S-S-I-O-N-A-B-L-E.  Sing that song to the tune of the Mouseketeer Club.  Why? Because we love you!

The whole thing is this surreal, reverse-Pied Piper tale where the Mouse waltzes into each town and leads all of the children into a trance like state where he can get them to say or buy anything.  And it's all unfolding right before your eyes.  He can also get the children to dress up like a bunch of fucking idiots.  Oh, that crafty Mouse.

The Pied Piper of Hamelin is the subject of a legend concerning the departure or death of a great many children from the town of Hamelin (Hameln), Germany, in the Middle Ages. The earliest references describe a piper, dressed in pied (multicolored) clothing, leading the children away from the town, implicitly to their death. In the 16th century the story was expanded into a full narrative, in which the piper is a rat-catcher hired by the town to lure rats away with his magic pipe

ACT II: In Which the Ice Women Cometh

You can see the far off look in their eyes.  It's a mix of sadness and fatigue brought on because they were up late the previous night watching their friends and competitors walk into the Olympic Stadium in Vancouver, lapping up a real taste of the big time.  That's right, Virginia, Disney on Ice is chock full of Olympic hopefuls, has-beens and also-rans, and Washington D.C. caught them the night after the proverbial prom that they didn't get asked to.

Dashed-dreams aside, these kittens do their best to put on a happy face and skate their way into the hearts and minds of adoring fans who could care less if they came in 89th place at the 2005 World Junior Championships in Lillehammer or Calgary or whatever once-proud, post-Olympic ski town was playing host to them at that time.

It's ice under the bridge at this point, though.  For all intents and purposes this IS the Gold Medal round of the 2010 Vancouver games to about 10,000 screaming, fruitpunch drunk children.  It's go time.  Dry the eyes, squeeze into the mermaid costume, lace up the skates and get your ass out on the ice, Ariel®.  It's time to shake your moneymaker.  Or tailfeathers.  Or tailfin?  Whatever, just shake it.

It's hard not to get sidetracked with everything going on around you.  Sensory overload.  I wish that I could explain the magical feeling that's in the air at 'Disney on Ice'.  It feels like Disney sprinkled some Pixie Dust™ on the crowd, if that makes sense.

The irony of pinocchio being played by a girl (as a opposed to a 'real' boy) was not lost on me.  It was actually pretty creepy.  The dancing girls pulling their skirts high in the air and showing their underwear to the crowds was a pleasant surprise, though!

Pinocchio, Jiminy Cricket, Cinderella?  Check, check and check.  But really, these guys are so irrelevant it's almost like intermission.  Everyone checks out when these dinosaurs come out.  None of these kids even know who Pinocchio is.  Time to retire these relics from a bygone era.  Thank God there was no 'Song of the South' revival.

What's also not lost on me is that i'm sitting at Disney on Ice and actually having fun.  At a certain point you just have to kick back, relax and enjoy the ridiculousness of it all.  It can be quite fun.  Granted, not as much fun as the 5-year old girls dressed as princesses that we are flanked by are having.

Actually, little girls of all ages get excited.

They are screaming their bloody heads off at every character they recognize.  Which is pretty much all of them.  The cutest part is whenever a new character comes out, you hear hundreds of little kids start screaming their names.  It's like Beatlemania!  John!  Paul! Ringo! LUMIERE?!?!?!?!?

It's not all princesses and giant stuffed animals.  There's a lot of guys, too:

And a whale.

Act III: Cracks From The Peanut Gallery

All of these capades got us here at BYT thinking: if costumed antics set to music can throw folks into this much of a frenzy solely by bringing some ice skates into the mix, we might know of  a few dudes who would be interested in just such a business venture:

You are Goddamn right, we said it: "G.W.A.R."!  And we also know what you're thinking: "W.T.F.?"

But hold on just a minute and try to see the vision.  Enthralling storyline? Check. Riveting characters? Check. Award-winning costume design? Check. Grammy-nominated songwriting? Check.

What's surprising is that nobody has thought of strapping some skates on these fellas BEFORE now.  If PeeWee Herman can get a stage show and Billy Joel can get a fucking musical, then why in God's name can't G.W.A.R. have an arena-rocking ice capades spectacular?

But what about the lyrics, you say?  Disney on Ice, for example, succeeds on the backbone of the lyrics to the songs that you know and love.  They've got every little sniveling child from Anchorage, Alaska to Zion, Utah singing their songs because the lyrics are so fun and entertaining.  Witness this little ditty from Beauty and the Beast called 'Be Our Guest'.  I guarantee you you'll start singing along:

Be our guest! Be our guest!
Put our service to the test
Tie your napkin 'round your neck, cherie
And we'll provide the rest
Soup du jour
Hot hors d'oeuvres
Why, we only live to serve
Try the grey stuff
It's delicious
Don't believe me? Ask the dishes
They can sing, they can dance
After all, Miss, this is France
And a dinner here is never second best
Go on, unfold your menu
Take a glance and then you'll
Be our guest
Oui, our guest
Be our guest!

Okay, point taken.  Disney literally survives on their unparalleled ability to get this shit stuck in your head.  No doubt.  But all we are saying, is give G.W.A.R. a chance.   Close your eyes and imagine the song 'Penguin Attack' brought to life on the ice stage format:

They are on a rampage
Unleashed from ancient time
Stumbling from the ice age
Marching side by side
Beaks of steel are flaming
Women are enraged
Sky of death is flaming
Women get engaged
It's a penguin attack
It's a penguin attack
They were born of atomic steel
Life and death to them was so unreal
Stumbling from the ice age
They were last in flight
They would write a new page
If they could only write
Rumbling from the ice age
They were last in line
They would start a new age
If they could just take time
It's a penguin attack
It's a penguin attack

I mean, Disney on Ice is barely even a departure from an actual G.W.A.R. show (aside from the obvious lack of ice skates).  The music, theatrics, set-design and costumes of BOTH events combine to enthrall audiences world-wide:

HAPPY KIDS AT ICE SHOW PICTURE HERE

For instance, take the picture below.  You and I know that it's a scene from 'Finding Nemo on Ice'.  But let's just add the music from 'Womb With a View'.  These could easily be players in the 'G.W.A.R. on Ice' roadshow.  It's like G.W.A.R. covering and reenacting Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' but on acid:

From left to right you've got: 1) 'Crabby', the angry crustacean creature with two penises, 2) 'Chompy', some sort of crazed alien-parrot with webbed hands, 3) 'Orangey', the mutant woman with giant eyes for breasts, and 4) 'morbidly-obese Grimace', a tongue-in-cheek parody of our fast food McCulture and the gimmicky children's characters that are used to represent it.  And 5) above all, don't forget 'Pablo', the flying, spotted, blue-corn tortilla.

That's so G.W.A.R.!!!

ACT IV: Exit, Stage Left

Alright, readers, we've subjected you to enough children's ice skating bullshit for one day.  We apologize.  You're not mad at us, right?  I mean, there was fair warning when we named the feature 'Mickey and Minnie: On The Rocks'.  Get it? On the rocks? Like on ice?  Disney On Ice.  Jesus, you really are mad at us!

How about we make up for it by giving you the kind of spectactle on ice that you really wanted to see?  We scoured the internet it to bring you, so without further adieu, we present: hockey goalies beating the crap out of each other.  You are welcome.  We're Even Steven, right?  We love you, readers.  Just like Uncle Walt does;)

Now's the time to say goodbye to all your company...
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!... M-I-C... (See ya real soon!)
K-E-Y... (Why? Because we love you!)
M-O-U-S-E...

Previously in Live DC:

• 1/24: LiveDC: Real Estate @ Black Cat
• 1/24: LiveDC: Adam Carolla @ Fillmore
• 1/24: Preview: Sockets Records 2012 Showcase
• 1/24: PHOTOS: Tropical Punch @ 411 Warehouse
• 1/23: PHOTOS: Goodbye Gold Leaf (for real now)
• 1/23: PHOTOS: Fatback 4th Anniversary
• 1/19: Live DC: Yip Deceiver @ Velvet Lounge
• 1/18: LiveDC: Cults @ Black Cat
• 1/17: LiveDC: JB Smoove @ 930 Club
• 1/17: PHOTOS: (Almost) Goodbye to Gold Leaf Show