I’m currently in a production of “Oliver!”.  The other night, the theatre had a big thank you party.  When we came in to do the show the next night, all the leftover cake was sitting on the counter for our consumption.   Speaking of consumption, if cake was alcohol…every one of those orphan boys would have been punch-drunk!

 

Those boys can EAT!  Unapologetically!  I thought a cast full of starving college students had impressive eating prowess, but a cast full of tween boys may be even more voracious.

 

At one point, I saw a boy departing from the scene with a plate full of nothing but frosting.

 

Two minutes before the curtain rises, the boy playing Oliver walks in.  He’s in full waifish costume.  His short little legs mean he’s barely as tall as the counter.  Yet, he hears the call for places and he is spurred on.  He manages to stretch far enough to grab three handfuls of cake with his bare hands and shove them in his mouth.

 

So.  When those boys are out there singing about their lack of “Food, Glorious Food,” don’t you believe them.  And when they slurp down the gruel enthusiastically enough to make you think they haven’t eaten in days, don’t feel sorry for them.  And—for Heaven’s sake—when Oliver meekly asks, “Please, sir.  I want some more,” don’t you give him another morsel!

There is a reason those little con artists were cast.  Pick a pocket...hah...more like pick at your heartstrings.