Let me start with the best foot forward: It was a beautiful day. Normally I find myself (if I normally do such a thing) at the Renaissance festival in the autumn, where going is an excuse to enjoy the mild weather while eating a gigantic turkey leg. This year I found myself going with Capt. Mystery to the event on its first day of celebration. I feared the worst. The weather here tends to gravitate towards the moist/fish-ridden variety of humidity and I give my sweat glands an F- because they tend to cry angry gravy at even the smallest hint of "warmth". So when I say that it was a beautiful day, do not take this lightly. I expected the worst and was given THE BEST. The sky was hollywood blue. The grass was bollywood green. Air was coolish and it was NOT very humid at all.
Already, not of its own accord, the Jousting Competition is doing pretty well.
The festival is always the same, so weather plays a big role in whether (weather? HAAAAHAHAHAHA) or not the whole thing is a lark or a lump. Does this all mean this review will be favorable? Even the dumbest baby knows the answer.
Do you know those movies, the one Hollywood loves to make, where massive armies fan out before a grandly armored leader or some sort. They are a bustle with excitement. Then a cry rings out: "MEN OF THE _direction_, HEAR MY CALL!!!" Then something about battle and then everyone and goes and dies in the name of basically that person and his/her speech. What I have learned most from the Renaissance Festival is that in a realistic situation, where a man in armor is yelling, years of community theater voice training in his throat, I will hear this: "Do __ __ ___ __ KING! AND RE_____ TO _____ __ ___ FEVERED ___ WE CHEER!" At which point someone is paid to raise a sign that tells us to cheer and the entire audience cheers. I wouldn't mind if it was just me not quite getting it. I'd still stand up and cheer wholeheartedly if everyone around me was feeling it. But the "HUZZAH" sign raised in the clear afternoon calls us all liars and lets us all know we are in on the sad lie that is "we are totally entertained and know what is going on." So it boils down to moments of boredom and confusion and despite the weather... overheating followed by bursts of LIES. CHEERING LIES.
HUZZAH! I cheer not knowing who I am cheering for.
HUZZAH! The crowd cheers, only 5% able to hear the explanation of what's happening.
Maybe if there was blood. And so the joust began. First was the rings or cans or whatever, where they knocked cans off of posts or something. Something about replacing rings with cans made it seem very wrong. Then some bearded nerd fought another bearded nerd with staves or polearms of some sort. They did say what they were. I just couldn't hear it.
The whole first fight was very stagey, but I allowed myself to enjoy it in some silly fun fashion. Then Captain Mystery whispered "Jeez, it's so staged!"
My reply was "DUH!" but what I meant was "I was trying to hide myself from that sad truth but now I cannot for thine words have pulled the cloak of mystery from my mind and I am awash in shame and embarrassment for all parties."
Next came the thing where two knights on horses hit each other with wooden swords. This was promising because you knew it didn't have to be staged. The swords were wooden, not like the metal polearms of the first fight. Let it be known however, that not staged does not mean exciting. Constrained to their horses, the two opponents could only stand next to one another and repeatedly buffet one another with similar blows, like rock em soc em robots being played by epileptic children. It was an exercise in repetition that Steve Reich would have been envious of. Eventually someone won, but I was busy looking at the place that sold wooden swords, dreaming of the day when I too could bore onlookers with my boring exploits.
The actual joust was good. Dude's hitting each other with lances. Things splintering. Nothing amazing though. I always secretly dream that something will slip, and we'll see something awful like a man impaled by a lance through his exposed throat. I say this now, edgy like all that, but in reality if I saw it, I would be the first to cry. But at least crying would be something.
In some perverse way though, in pretending to enjoy the whole affair, I almost did. At least I got to sit down.
Grade: C
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