Following the dictates of the almighty dart, last night we made our way to the Ziegfeld theater to see the Jonas Brothers Concert Experience in 3D. Arriving at 6:30, right at showtime, I expected us to have to wade through gaggles of screaming tween girls to find two of the last seats in the house. As we entered the Ziegfeld lobby, we were greeted by the shouts of a seemingly crazy person. It turned out he was the ticket man and he worked there. His attempts at flambouyant charm came across as insane and aggressive shouts. We gave him our tickets and then bolted upstairs to secure seats.
The Ziegfeld is a huge and majestic theater. Built in 1969 to replace the original 1927 Broadway theater by the same name. At 1,131 seats, the Ziegfeld is one of the last "Movie Palaces" still operating in Manhattan. A throwback to the age of cinema, this theater feels out of place in a movie age with its gold trim, lush red carpeting, and fine oak paneling. It is truly a beautiful venue, one which lends itself well to great epic movies and sweeping period pieces.
Rounding the corner from the foyer, I was struck by what I saw before me. Over one thousand empty seats. Huh? I thought the Jonas Brothers were the new Hannah Montanna! Squinting in the darkness, we saw a small gaggle of maybe 10 people clustered around the center of the theater. We donned our plastic Harry Potter-esque glasses and took a seat among the tiny group. A few moments after we chose the best vantage point, a group of four twenty-something girls sat down a few rows behind us. More on them later.
The 3D technology was breathtaking. I had been to 3D movies before, notably to a 70s softcore porn on a lark with some college roommates in Seattle (not recommended!), but this was like nothing I had experienced before. The first previews were for animated features from Pixar and others. The characters seemed not only to jump off of the screen, but appeared to have real depth. The 3D glasses were not the regular blue-red cereal box variety. They appeared to have clear lenses. Alternating between glasses and none, I guessed that they were skewing the viewing angle of one eye to mimic the effect of ever so slightly crossing your eyes. The doubled images on the screen then merged in your newly aligned vision. The effect is surprisingly realistic without feeling too gimmicky, aside from the occasional finger pointed at the screen or guitar pick thrown at the camera.
Now for the stars of the evening: The Jonas Brothers. I fully expected the 3D to stand for "3 Douchebags", but the backstage footage portrays them as a couple of "golly-gosh-and-gee-whiz" Eddie Haskell types who are just as bewildered by the tens of thousands of prepubescent girls mobbing them as we are. Once onstage, the brothers switch into full rockstar mode. The eldest and least talented is the frontman, gyrating and kicking like a young Mick Jagger who looks like a young Tom Cruise. The youngest (I think) stands with his guitar at the ready, strumming away and pointing at the girls in the audience and eliciting cries of what can only be pain. He looks like a young Tom Hanks. The middle brother plays his guitar like it is an Uzi, jumping around stage like a young Angus… Young. Unfortunately for him, he came out looking like a young Tom Sizemore. The concert opens with a shot panning the crowd of screaming girls wielding thousands of multi-colored glow sticks. Now anyone who has been to a Phish concert before probably feels a bit robbed at this perversion of the traditionally trippy glowstick. They were never intended for uses this wholesome.
The onstage antics of the brothers includes being raised on high podiums and taking turns blowing kisses to the audience that included no males or adults as far as I could see and being rewarded with shrill cries. The effect was of a macabre symphony of teen fanaticism. My wife leaned over to me during one particulary embarassing audience shot and asked, "Still think children are our future?" to which I replied, "God, I hope not." A few minutes later, the brothers pulled large hoses out onto the stage and began spraying the audience with white foam. The 3D effects for this stunt were an eyefull, and the effect on the audience was to leave them covered in white goo. Symbolism aside, I wondered how many of those kids were vowing to never wash their hair again. I also wondered what the brothers could get away with. Could they hack off all of the left hands of the girls in the front row and have the second row hold theirs out screaming, "Me too!"?
By no means would I say that the appeal of the Jonas Brothers is limited to tweens and confused, idol-worshping adolescents. In fact, the twenty-somethings a few rows behind us were singing along to every song! They were screaming right along with the on-screen fans… and I did not feel they were doing so to be ironic. They seemed particularly fond of screaming for a pudgy bass player in the backup band, and I was hoping that one of them knew him. That would at least justify this behavior. At worst, I am likely to see those girls on To Catch a Predator before too long.
Overall, I actually found that the music played by the brothers was poppy, catchy, and full of completely bland and derivative lyrics. This is apparently Disney’s recipe for success of late, and I see no reason for them to let up. Exhasparated parents will continue to pay good money to see bad music by cute kids, and their daughters will one day grow up to be ashamed of themselves. At least I sincerely hope so. Otherwise there is no hope for the future of America.
So the first dart is in the books! As I had hoped, I did indeed experience something I never would have without the invisible hand of fate (or with my very visible but not very accurate throwing hand). Tune in over the next week as I find a new and exciting thing to do. I know I can’t wait to find out what I am doing next weekend. Can you?
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