In a world where people seem to have an unquenchable thirst for finding things to despise, one form of entertainment consistently finds itself the subject of misunderstanding—the humble musical.
The irony is palpable. People love movies. People love music. Logic tells us that the two should join harmoniously and without complaint. Apparently not. The mere mention of a musical evokes a cacophony of reactions.
Some embrace them with open arms, others recoil at the mere suggestion, while a select few can't flee the scene fast enough. Amidst such melodramatic reactions and unjust hatred for theater kids, one can't help but wonder: did we blow this way out of proportion? Why is it that when the protagonist launches into a heartfelt song, we feel duped?
Perhaps if we set aside our preconceived notions, Mean Girls would have been appropriately advertised as the symphonic comedy it really is, sparing us from unwittingly enduring two and a half hours of Regina George's harmonized scheming at Cinemark. These layers of misconception and vague promotion compel the general public to overlook some of the most genius art pieces of our time simply because they are musicals.
"Musicals aren’t realistic.”
But are they the least realistic genre? God forbid one prefers Hairspray to Harry Potter. Why indulge in fantasy and escapism when you can watch characters spontaneously burst into song and dance? The latter is a far more believable feat than fire–breathing dragons. In fact, we should aim to indulge in more forms of media that appropriately showcase the desire to erupt into a rendition of “Defying Gravity” at the most inappropriate times, and applaud these unapologetic demonstrations of musical fervor. Why would one choose to endure Saving Private Ryan when they could instead enjoy the true musical authenticity of The Rocky Horror Picture Show?
"Musicals are too spontaneous."
Because nothing screams “spontaneity” like spending months rehearsing elaborate dance routines and memorizing complex musical numbers. Spontaneity is for impromptu karaoke and rearranging furniture, not a full–blown Broadway production. In the musical, nothing is without design. Besides, if you find yourself suddenly, yet fortunately, serenaded by a group of strangers, that’s on you for not expecting the unexpected.
"The plots are too simple."
Ah, yes, because we all yearn for the mind–bending complexity of a Christopher Nolan film in our musicals. There’s nothing more straightforward than a tribe of singing and dancing cats vying for a chance at rebirth in the Heaviside Layer—and for good reason. Save the existential crises and moral quandaries for arthouse cinema—instead, give us chimney sweeps and singing teapots. Who could possibly appreciate the intricacies of a Shakespearean tragedy without the added pleasure of a dance ensemble?
"The songs are annoying."
It would be a blessing to have Julie Andrews belting out “The Hills Are Alive” on a loop in my head for days. Would you rather listen to soulless elevator music that fades into the background like white noise? Picture this: a bride prepares to traverse a flowery lane of white roses and tearful family members on her wedding day. Be honest, what’s more evocative, “Here Comes the Bride” or “You Can’t Stop the Beat”?
"I just don't get why people like musicals."
And therein lies the crux of the issue. Who needs a nuanced exploration of the human experience when you can experience the vibrant, disco–fueled world of the Village People in Can't Stop the Music? Let's face it, life is too short to waste on despising things that bring us genuine happiness. The next time you are tempted to hate on musicals, just stop and ask yourself: am I boring? If the answer is yes, do not fear. It’s never too late to change your ways.
