Brahms’ Lullaby plays, fading into—
Steven Spielberg and Barney the Dinosaur = Worse dreams
Bert: Good evening and welcome to this hour of “Mother Goose Children’s Theatre,” bringing you safe theatre for your bedtime stories. Which is like filming a Barney movie with the cast and crew from Jurassic Park. I’m your host, Bertolt Brahms.
This week’s History in Rhyme looks at Diderot’s contributions to theatre.
Humpty Dumpty liked the fourth wall,
Then the fourth wall had a great fall.
All the best actors then cheered loudly when
No one put the wall back together again.
And now we bring you Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, Jr. This selection comes from Javert as he searches for Jean Valjean.
Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight.
I’m in the right, so I must fight.
I wish I could Valjean indict.
Last week there was some confusion over an upcoming production here at Mother Goose Children’s Theatre. We announced that we would be holding auditions for Rabbit Hole by David Lindsay-Abaire, and have since received numerous phone calls from children and parents alike. At this time, we are not looking to cast an Alice, Mad Hatter, or a White Rabbit. Please note the difference between Rabbit Hole (a Pulitzer Prize winning play), and Down the Rabbit Hole (the first chapter in Alice in Wonderland). We apologize for any inconvenience.
Tonight we bring you Story Hour, featuring the classic tale of the Three Little Pigs as told by Artaud.
So cheery in the hands of Disney...
Once upon a time, there lived three little pigs that had escaped slaughtering and were now determined to enter the great, vast, dangerous world to seek their fortunes. They left the crammed pens of the pig farm to set sail for the New World…or whatever. On the ship, they fell ill to the most terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad disease. It was…the plague. The poor pigs rolled around on the ship’s deck, moaning and squealing as they lost their lunch. But hey—there’s supper. Finally reaching the New World…or whatever, they immediately started building their houses. But the effects of the terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad disease had taken their toll on the poor pigs’ peachy skin. Their skin was gray and weak, and all the building prompted blisters to form. Truly, they had rawhides.
The first little pig built his house out of straw because it was the easiest thing to do. Unfortunately for him, the straw brought mites, and the first foolish pig found himself itching his festering blisters when there was a knock at the door.
Who wouldn't be sneezing?
The first pig called out, “Who’s there?” Now, at the door was a big, bad wolf, who answered, “Little Pig, little Pig, let me come in.” The first little pig called out, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin, chin!” Well of course, the big, bad wolf huffed and puffed, and blew the house in. But unfortunately for him, all the huffing and puffing in such close proximity to the straw caused him to have quite the sneezing attack. And he now had mites in his fur.
The second silly pig had built his house out of wood because it was simple but sturdy. Unfortunately for him, the wood was moldy, and the second silly pig found himself with a lung infection in addition to the terrible, horrible, no-good, you-get-the-point-by-now disease. As he coughed and hacked, he heard a knock at the door. The second silly pig called out, “Who’s there?”
When you have an itch on your back, just start dancing.
The big, bad wolf was now dancing a disturbing jig on the doorstep as he tried to keep itching his back and knees because of the hay mites. But he still managed to cry, “Little Pig, little Pig, let me come in.” The second silly pig called out, “Not by the–” and was reduced to coughing and hacking up a lung. Well, of course, the big, bad wolf had no intention of huffing and puffing ever again, so he used the door as a back scratcher before it fell in. Unfortunately for him, he now had moldy splinters in his fur along with the hay mites.
The third thoughtful pig had built his house out of bricks because he was smart. Unfortunately for him, he still had the…terrible…disease. But he had contracted nothing new. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The third thoughtful pig knew just what to do. He peeked through the peep hole in the door. By this point, the big, bad wolf could not even announce his arrival due to the painful, itching jig he was dancing on the doorstep. The third thoughtful pig called out, “I know who you are! What big ears you have! What big eyes you have! What big teeth you have!” The big, bad wolf, now huffing and puffing, toe tapping and back scratching answered, “That’s my twin—he’s at Red Riding’s house.”
The Wolf and his Double, by Third Thoughtful Pig
Well, the third thoughtful pig knew just what to do. He put a large pot under the chimney, and waited. The wolf drove himself to distraction, going completely insane. He climbed upon the house, determined to crawl down the chimney to capture the pig. Unfortunately for him, the wolf fell into the boiling pot of water and became wolf soup. The third thoughtful pig eventually recovered from the terrible…plague, and wrote a book entitled, “The Wolf and his Double.”