Tuesday night, I found myself in the audience of one of the hottest shows in town.
I'm not talking about "Wicked," or even "Hannah Montana." No, I was able to score a seat at "Dancing With the Stars," which I'm told has a two-year waiting list.
It helps to have friends in high places. Also not so high places. My good friend Mary Ellen does wardrobe and is one of the people who creates the show's costumes. She arranged for me to attend.
Now, those of you who have been around here long enough may remember that "reality" TV is not my cup of tea. Until this week, I had NEVER viewed an entire episode of the U.S. version of "Dancing With the Stars." (I had seen an episode of the original British series, before it was brought over here.) I've got nothing against the show; in fact, if I had to rank reality TV in order of interest, I would put a program like "Dancing" at the top, because you're not seeing Joe and Josie Average humiliating themselves just so they can be on national television. The dancers are true professionals and the "stars" (for some of them, that's a pretty loose term, don't you think?) know what they are getting into. It is fascinating to watch an amateur blossom into proficiency. So I understand the entertainment value.
But until "Dancing" is scheduled against scripted programming that's less engaging than "Chuck," "Heroes," "Reaper" and "House," I'm afraid I'm not going to watch it. (Of course, with the WGA Strike, that day is going to come sooner than I ever thought.)
So why did I jump at the chance to see it live? Do you have to ask? As SoCal Mom, I can't be found shirking my duties as your reporter on all things strange and weird and exciting about living in this part of the country. And besides: with my daily commitment to NaBloPoMo, I would like to write at least a couple of posts that aren't all about me, my husband and my kid. I mean, even I get bored with that.
"I'm sorry, I can't get you into a Monday show," Mary Ellen apologized. "They're booked through the end of the season. But on Tuesday, you'll get to see Jennifer Hudson. That's something."
It certainly is. Like I said, I never watch "Dancing," so whether it's a Monday competition episode or a Tuesday elimination show made no difference to me. I was just excited to be going... until I received my instructions for show day:
"Your arrival time is: 3:15 pm. If you are not in your seat by 4:15pm your seat will be given up. Since this is a live show, we will not be able to sit any late arrivals. (Please make sure you give yourself enough time for traffic, to find parking at the Grove, and to get through the check-in table)."
OK. This is fair enough, and standard procedure for a show that airs live on the East Coast. It's similar to what we would tell our guests when I worked on The Tonight Show, back in the ancient '80's. Besides, I love the Grove and the Farmer's Market (and there are already plenty of posts here that confirm that). I figured I could get there early, park the car, have a nice lunch and do a little shopping before walking over to CBS Television City.
Then I read on:
This is a glamorous show, and a beautiful looking audience is a crucial part of the overall atmosphere, with that being said we ask the ladies come dressed in fancy cocktail attire, and gentlemen wear a jacket and tie.
Please DO NOT WEAR- white, baseball caps, t-shirts with messages of support and PLEASE DO NOT WEAR JEANS!! Even if they are really nice or really expensive!! No one wearing jeans will be permitted into the studio!
OK, well that's just NUTS. No jeans? To a TV taping?? I mean, it's not like it's the Oscars. In fact, the last time I got all dressed up in fancy cocktail attire at 3:00 in the afternoon was when I attended the Emmys (also back in the 80's).
After I calmed down I realized that the studio audience for a show like this is part of the atmosphere. I was suddenly glad my husband made me attend those charity events with him last month. At least, I would get one more wear out of the clothes I had to buy for that.
But that scratched any thought I had of spending time at the Grove beforehand. I was going to feel stupid enough walking around in evening wear at 3:00 p.m. I certainly wasn't going to do it at lunch.
Oh well. The final disappointing piece of the email wasn't unexpected as it's standard operating procedure at all performance events these days:
Additionally, please do not bring any cameras, cell phones/pagers, food or drink with you into the studio. We also ask that you downsize any purses and other belongings that you may have with you for the evening.
So how did I get the photos you see here and on Flickr? I have to thank Mary Ellen for that.
"Call me when you get there so I can hold on to your camera and phone for you," she said.
What a friend. She not only met me at the gate, she got me the equivalent of a backstage pass and took me on a tour of their offices.
"Let me get a picture of you here on the confessional couch. Your readers will recognize that," she said. The couch on the left was occupied by a woman, in deep conversation with two business-suited men. I dutifully walked past her and posed on the second couch.
After she snapped the shot and we'd walked away, she whispered, "Did you see Marie? I wanted to ask her to pose with you, but she was obviously very involved." The stupid thing is, I did not notice that the woman on the couch was Marie Osmond, who I knew was having a bad week due to the loss of her father. Since then, the world has discovered that her eldest son was admitted to rehab. Could that be what she was discussing with such seriousness on the couch?
Mary Ellen then led me into the "quick change room." There were a couple of dresses hanging there. She grabbed the gold one. "I need to take this to Julianne," she said. I followed her outside the building, where the dancers' dressing room trailers are located. I waited while Mary Ellen made her way to the trailer. There were tons of people milling about; CBS Security, PA's on headsets, men in suits, Donny Osmond. Yes, this time I actually recognized the star.
I wondered if there was any way I could take a surreptitious photo of the man without having my camera or cellphone confiscated (as they would have done if my friend hadn't whisked me in past the normal security procedure). I decided not to risk it.
My tour of the offices concluded in the workrooms where the costumes are made. One of the other wardrobe women was putting the finishing touches on an outfit worn by one of guest star Fatima's dancers. She was basically molding the fabric to the woman's perfect body. I swear, I never saw so many absolutely gorgeous people in one place as I did backstage at "Dancing" (and I used to work in the same offices as "Star Search," and saw lots of prospective "spokesmodels" waiting for their audition).
It was nearing 4:00, so Mary Ellen hustled me on to the stage so I could get my seat (I was in the very back row of the section that faces the stage, so wasn't on camera -- which really, is OK with me). The proceedings began with the introduction of Cory Almeida, the show's warm-up guy.
The warm-up person is one of the great unsung members of any TV show that makes use of a live audience, as what you see on the air is not a true representation of how the show is put together -- even a program that goes out live, like "Dancing." Tuesday night is the hour-long results show, and honestly -- how long does it really take to say, "Cameron, you're going home?" (I'm assuming you fans out there have already seen the show!) So they do recaps, fake-outs ("And the first couple that's safe is...") and pad the time out with guests.
Tuesday night, we had one dance performance by Fatima Robinson and two numbers from Gloria Estefan (don't know what happened to Jennifer Hudson, who was originally scheduled to perform on Tuesday), and there were some set changes that had to be done between their bits. That takes time, so the show begins by pre-taping those segments in front of the studio audience, then adds them in during the live broadcast.
The warm-up guy's job is to keep the audience's energy level up. Cory was a master at it; cavorting around the set, into the balconies, leading the audience in applause (there are no applause signs on this stage; it is all led by Cory and other members of the crew). He kept everyone entertained during the down times by joking with audience members, challenging them to "Dancing" trivia contests (with real prizes) and offering bits of insider information. This was good, because two of the performances had to be re-shot, and I don't know about the rest of the audience, but I had a hard time garnering the same enthusiasm for the piece the second time around. (Imagine how the performers must feel!)
After Estefan's last song, the crew had about a half hour to get ready for the actual live broadcast, and that's when it really got wild. Cory invited the audience -- anyone who was game -- to come on down to the stage and dance.
It was like a really wild wedding reception: You had older couples who had been doing the moves for decades, and younger ones who had obviously been taking lessons, you had 20 and 30-something women boogying with each other just for the fun of it. (Up in the balcony was a group of gals celebrating having a girls' night -- Cory had a lot of fun with them.)
The highlight of this little audience party came when they started playing the Village People's "YMCA." That's when "Dancing" judge Bruno Tonioli jumped up on the stage and started making the letters. The audience roared. Then to the delight of the audience, Donny Osmond himself joined Bruno on stage and the two of them started dancing cheek-to-cheek. Of course, the audience roared at this. The big finish came when both men stripped off their jackets and twirled them over their heads, like Chippendale's dancers.
"That has NEVER happened before," Cory announced breathlessly, as everyone took their places for the actual show. (When the show was over, Mary Ellen confirmed that the performance we witnessed was a first.)
The cameras began to roll, hosts Tom Bergeron and Samantha Harris took their places, and Cory directed us all to give them a standing ovation. (I had a few pithy things to say about the devaluation of the Standing O, but that will have to wait for another post.) I clapped so much my hands started to hurt, and I have to tell you, you miss a lot when you are watching it live from the audience. The din of the applause drowned out everything they said, so I was at a distinct disadvantage when it came to following the proceedings.
The stage was rather calm when they cut to the sequences that had been taped earlier. I noticed that during those times and the commercial breaks, Donny Osmond was being constantly approached by other audience members for his autograph, and I was suddenly very glad that I hadn't tried to snap his photo earlier on the lot. He and Marie had just lost their father and yet they were doing what they were raised to do; the show must go on and all of that. It's probably what their dad would have wanted. But celebrities really do pay a price. I would not want to be a public figure and never have a moment's peace.
The show ended at 7:00 Pacific time, and Cory directed the audience to leave, one section at a time. Mary Ellen caught up with me. "You don't have to," she said. "Maybe we can get a shot of you with some of the stars."
When the show ends, the cast stays on to answer questions from the press, who are holed up in a little room outside the stage during the show. The set was now teeming with people, all jostling for an opportunity to ask a few questions or get a photo with one of the stars.
One of the stagehands was kind enough to take a photo of us (and another guest) in the judges' seats. Mary Ellen tried to get Maksim's attention, but he was otherwise occupied. "Really, they're still working," I protested to my friend. "I probably have enough photos."
But Mary Ellen wouldn't stop until we got some actual series stars to pose with me. Edyta was very nice, even though her partner was the one who was voted off the show on Tuesday. And we ran into Mark Ballas and his mother, who is a dancer/choreographer in her own right and also trained brother and sister phenoms Julianne and Derek Hough.
Mark, who was wearing his "Team Sabrina" t-shirt, couldn't have been nicer. "Sabrina and I will be back to dance on the show next week," he promised. He also gave me a card for Almost Amy, the band he's formed with his fellow dancer Derek. "You have to check us out on YouTube," he said.
I left the stage at 7:30 p.m., which gave me enough time to go home and watch it on TV. The fact that I tuned in to "House" instead doesn't mean I didn't enjoy "Dancing." I really did, and I hope Mary Ellen gets to work on it again next season so I can visit again.
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