I attended a play at my local community theatre last night. (A performance of Peter Quilter's "Glorious"; about Florence Foster Jenkins.)
It would be very *easy* to play this for snark and laughs - but it would also be *wrong*.
Sure:
* the printed programme didn't even get the playwright right (credited the author of a previous play they put on);
* the actor in one of the major parts was subbed-in at the last moment and had to read his lines while performing (TBF - he did that very well indeed);
* I'm in my 60s and I was one of the *youngest* attending.
All of that (and more) would make it quite easy to take the piss.
And yet:
* the players played it well, regardless;
* the receipts went to a good cause (Bennelong Friends of Refugees - no John Howard fans present);
* a good night was had by all; and
* I was able to catch up with a bunch of people I hadn't seen for quite literally years (thank you, stinking' 🦠).
