If...then...

There once was a man named Ken Mandelbaum and he used to write on a site called broadway.com. The site still exists, and so, I suppose, does Mr. Mandelbaum, but alas, they’re no longer together. Ken Mandelbaum used to write wonderfully insightful articles about the theatre, and perhaps he still does, somewhere out there on the corner of Another Revival and Bad Movie Remake. I bring him up today because he was given to using certain language that annoyed the living crap out of me. Oh, I enjoyed most of what he wrote, and I was thankful for his knowledge, but I noted with alarming frequency his use of a certain turn-of-phrase that just made my skin crawl. The phrase in question is the “if…then” scenario. Basically, it goes “if something is happening or has happened, then it’s somehow linked to this other thing that’s happening or has happened.” My problem is with the way he used it. Many times, I feel his thoughts on these subjects would be better served in a declarative structure, rather than something that begs the question “do I really know what I’m saying?”

For example, when discussing a stage tableau used in Baz Luhrmann’s production of La Bohème, he wrote: “If that moment elicits the biggest gasp of delight from the audience, this Bohème has many such ravishing moments.” Do you see what I mean? Isn’t he really saying that although that moment elicits the biggest gasp of delight from the audience, he’s happy to report the delight doesn’t end there? Why should he make that an inquiry? Is he unsure if that particular moment elicits the biggest gasp of delight from the audience? Does he think it does elicit the biggest gasp, but he’s not certain the entire audience is delighted? Or is the fact that the show has many moments as ravishing as that one somehow connected to the fact that one particular moment brings the most pleasure to all attending the performance Mr. Mandelbaum witnessed? It doesn’t seem to me that one has anything to do with the other. He seems to be fairly confidently stating that one moment in this production shines above the rest, but he wants to simultaneously reassure us that there are many rapturous moments to behold in Mr. Luhrmann’s staging of the Puccini opera.

Let’s have another go at this, shall we? In this instance, he’s bemoaning the overuse of a technique in the film version of Chicago that shifts the focus in musical numbers from reality to fantasy, and back again. He writes: “If Cell Block Tango comes off best, it’s also early in the film, before we realize this technique will be applied to just about every song.” Again, I wonder why he couldn’t have used the conjunction although (in spite of the fact that). His use of a different conjunction, if, seems to make the phrase conditional. That is, if Cell Block Tango were placed at a later moment in the film, it would not have come off as the best use of the aforementioned technique. Is that true? It’s hard to say, actually, because the song is where it is and we’ve already seen it there. I don’t suppose it would matter if we watched the DVD, and when that number comes up, skip to the next scene, then go back and watch Cell Block Tango after, say, Mister Cellophane, to see if now you’re completely sick of this back and forth reality/fantasy thing and Cell Block Tango no longer holds any charm for you.

In the first example, he seems to be saying if there weren’t many ravishing moments in Baz Luhrmann’s production of La Bohème, the staging of the scene he singles out would not have elicited the biggest gasp of delight from the audience. I definitely find fault with that logic. If the staging he had in mind was so faboo, I believe it still would have elicited the biggest gasp of delight from the audience were there a complete lack of other delights in the remainder of the show.

I only bring this up because I’ve been seeing it a lot lately – in magazines that wrap up the year in entertainment, in a Victorian era murder mystery I just finished, and in reviews of Broadway shows. What’s up with this use of conditional clauses? It’s a usage I believe to be entirely inappropriate. Why can’t journalists be more sure of themselves when they’re wrapping up a year or reviewing a show? If, if, if…it’s enough to make me pull out my hair! You won’t catch me saying things like “If Ben Affleck had the most immediate success following Good Will Hunting, Matt Damon is the better actor” or “If Europtrip was a rather juvenile romp, Matt Damon shocked and delighted in his turn as the punk-rock singer of the caustic ditty Scotty Doesn’t Know.” This is because I’m absolutely sure of myself in both instances. Matt Damon is a far better actor than Afflack (but it’s not a competition), and I was both shocked and delighted to see Matt Damon in the extremely childish Eurotrip (which included an all-too-brief scene on a nude beach with about 100 naked men!). So, writers everywhere, seize control of your opinions! Own up to your feelings! Abolish the conditional clause! Unless it’s really necessary.

Oh, and just in case you're wondering, if the picture above has absolutely nothing to do with this entry, I like it a great deal.