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I saw Mabou Mines’ “Red Beads” when it premiered at NYU’s Skirball Center back in September. I saw it because Stacey Bone was singing in the choir that was needed for the show — and I considered it my duty to go and support her. Additionally, I consider it my job as an actor to see as much professional theatre as possible, so a free ticket to Red Beads seemed like a great idea.

After watching the show, I was so angry that I didn’t publish my thoughts about it electronically right away.

That’s not to say I didn’t write anything about it. Although this won’t be an extensive review of the show (when do I ever really give one of those, anyway?) it will at least be something.

What follows are notes that I actually wrote as the show was in progress (mostly during the two intermissions). I hope it gives you an idea of what kind of show Red Beads truly was.

- “To call Red Beads tripe would be insulting to the entire line of meat products and the human beings that work hard to provide the general public with such goods. I can not fathom what would make an individual — or a group of individuals, rather — think that putting on a show such as this is a good idea.”

- “Experimental theatre: theatre that even theatre people can’t stand.”

- “I dislike experimental theatre. I dislike it because if there is any meaning behind an experimental show at all, it’s very hidden. Additionally, it’s usually so open to interpretation that, in effect, it means nothing. Welcome to the past 90 minutes of my life.”

- “Even the intermissions felt long.”

- “The actors and actresses (who were double-cast) were so insignificant that they switched, often times in mid-scene, and I didn’t really notice. This is less a testament to the show’s magnificent illusionary creativity than it is to my intense boredom.”

- “I was honestly more interested in what was happening in the wings than what was happening onstage.”

- “I’ve never been more insulted as an audience member. Not only were the lines of the script spoken by the actors, but simultaneously displayed on a digital projector and sung by a choir. I’m surprised it wasn’t written in Braille in the program, just to further hammer the point home.”

- “Sadly, the event was videotaped. This means that not only did we waste 90 minutes of our lives, but we wasted 90 minutes of precious celluloid.”