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Miss Saigon

It turns out that it is very possible to enjoy a show performed in a foreign language. It’s not at all the same thing as watching a performance in a language you already understand; it involves buffering current events, then processing over the past few minutes of performance to construct a narrative that matches the observations.

I’m sure that the Miss Saigon that I experienced was substantially different from the one that was written. It was enjoyable enough that I’m willing to live with the differences.

Also: it wasn’t surprising that they burned real incense when the lead was praying; it was impressively strong to waft over the entire audience, but it made sense. What really impressed me was the tobacco and pot smell of the Dreamland strip club; I’ve no idea how far they went for verisimilitude, but it was striking.

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