This past Sunday was no exception, as I headed to the Bowl with a bag full of garments and a blanket over my shoulder to attend the reading of Sunset Boulevard. Just so there is no confusion, this was the reading of the 1950 movie and not the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, which seemed odd considering there was a 96-piece orchestra on stage, not to mention a cast of prominent musical theater actors that featured Betty Buckley, Douglas Sills, Len Cariou and Jean Louisa Kelly.

Accompanying me was my friend L, with whom I had traveled to Poughkeepsie the previous weekend. L had traveled down from Northern California — not to see me — but to see Douglas Sills read the role of Joe Gillis.

When L and I first discovered that this was going to be a reading of the movie, we were convinced that the Bowl had struck out on negotiations with Andrew Lloyd Webber. In recent years, the Bowl had set a precedence of presenting a staged reading of a well-known musical once a year, and it had always been on the first Sunday in August — precisely when they had scheduled their reading of Sunset this year. And besides, why would anyone want to put on a reading of the movie when the Actors' Fund had just done one a couple of years ago?

Well apparently, John Mauceri, the conductor of the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra, did. According to Mauceri, this brilliant idea came to him two years ago when he came across an article about the Actors' Fund reading. Upon reading the article, he realized that there was one integral part missing from that reading — the score. So he called up Peter Hunt who had directed the reading and David Rambo who had adapted the screenplay, and proposed that they do the reading again — this time with a full orchestra in the back playing the score.

Even after this elaborate story, L and I remained skeptical. After all, it was such a shame to put Betty Buckley on stage and not let her sing...and a sacrilege not to let Douglas Sills sing...

But such was the reading that we attended on Sunday, with Betty Buckley, Douglas Sills and Len Cariou on stage, never once breaking into song.

Now, before I delve further into the show, let me write about our day's events.

The day began when my 21-month old son came running into our room (and by our, I mean mine and Hubby's) at 6:15 am. At least, that was how my day began... L, who had not gotten in until 2:00 am the previous evening (or perhaps I should say earlier that morning), chose to sleep in, although it's doubtful that she got much sleep when there was a 21-month old running circles around the foot of her sofa-bed shouting, "Grandma, sleeping! Grandma, sleeping!"

This is not to say that my thirty-something friend L looks grandmotherly in any way. It just so happened that my mom had been on the very same couch the night before, having flown in from San Francisco by way of Newark, NJ two nights before.

The original plan had been for my mom to spend the entire weekend with us, but when I found out that L was due in for a short weekend visit, I asked my sister to take her in instead — along with two tickets to Little Women for Sunday evening that I would no longer be using.

Although L was only in L.A. for half a weekend, she made the best of her day by arranging to have lunch with our mutual friend J (also from Northern California) and seeing the new Kander and Ebb musical, Curtains, starring David Hyde Pierce (Frasier). At the last minute, I decided to join her in her plans, leaving Hubby to tend to our 21-month old son for the second weekend in a row. No doubt Hubby is keeping score so that he can fly off on a whim to see the next Springsteen concert or racing event.

After meeting our friend J for lunch, the three of us headed to the Ahmanson Theater — the site of the Los Angeles run of The Scarlet Pimpernel tour six years ago — to catch the afternoon performance of Curtains, a light-hearted murder mystery filled with comedy and intrigue. Both J and L enjoyed the performance so much that by the end of the show, they were trying to figure out a way to come back. I had no such worries since I would be returning in two weeks with Hubby.

Once we left the Ahmanson, L and I said good-bye to our friend J. She would not be traveling to the Bowl with us; J had seen the Actors' Fund reading of Sunset two years ago and the score was not enough to entice her to see it a second time, which brought us back to the question: why another reading of the movie?

As we said good-bye to J, we picked up another friend: M from North Washington, who had also been at the Ahmanson to see Curtains and was now headed to the Bowl.

Once at the Bowl, L and I ran into P from Baton Rouge, whom I had not seen in four years. We were also supposed to hook up with an on-line acquaintance whom neither one of us had met: T from Missouri. Unfortunately, neither L nor I had bothered to jot down her seat location. I remembered it as Box 727 or 757, and L remembered it as either Box 762, or something with a 7, 5 and a 2.

As we passed the box seats on our way to our bench seats, I approached an usher to ask if he could point us in the direction of Box 727, 757, 762, or something with a 7, 5 and a 2. That's when L, who is a high school English teacher, pointed out in her stern teacher-like voice that we were not going to walk up to random strangers and strike up a conversation with them.

Well...how did she think I had met our mutual friend J with whom we had just had lunch that day? Apparently, L was not in the habit of picking up strangers at the theater.

Just as I was being steered away from the nice usher who seemed so eager to help, we spotted our friend S from Riverside, who had also been a random stranger six years ago when I met her at the theater.

While S and L chatted in our seats, I went back down to the box seats, determined to find our faceless acquaintance. After walking up and down the aisle, I soon discovered that there was no Box 727 or a Box 757. So I went to Box 752 (because it had a 7, 5 and a 2 like L suggested) and saw a blonde woman on a cell phone. My instinct told me that she could be T, but I wanted to scope out Box 762 first. When I walked over to Box 762, I saw a group of mostly younger men and women, mostly with wine glasses in hand. Instinctively, I knew this was not the right group, but I asked, just in case. Sure enough, I was told that there was no T there.

So I went back to Box 752 — the box where the woman on the cell phone had been — and asked if T was part of their group. A petite Asian woman pointed to the woman in the cell phone and said, "That's her."

And so I had found our on-line acquaintance. In the process, I had approached two sets of random strangers, and nothing humiliating or debilitating had happened. Perhaps L will be more inclined to approach strangers in the future...

After chatting with T for a few minutes, we settled into our seats, only to get up again for the National Anthem. Afterwards, John Mauceri began his talk about how this reading had come to fruition. He concluded his talk by pointing out that the reading would be presented in black and white on-screen to bring out the feel of the era. (In the last few years, four large screens have been added at the Bowl — one on either side of the stage and two further back.)

Because our seats were so far off to the side, the screen on the far side of the stage was difficult to see. The screen nearest us would have been perfect — had it not been for the gigantic pillar that blocked our view. As it turned out, I could only see half the screen, and I ended up watching most of the show through binoculars — in technicolor.

As the night wore on, the man next to me started shifting in his seat. I had nothing against this friendly stranger who had helped me put on my sweater and offered me a brownie. And I certainly couldn't blame him for fidgeting; the bleacher-style bench seats we were in were far from comfortable. The problem was that every time he shifted weight, it would cause a ripple along the bench. Imagine peering through your binoculars while sitting on the deck of a boat. Now imagine a big wave sweeping the boat. That's what it felt like every time he moved. By the end of the evening, I was feeling sorry for Joe Gillis, not because he was dead, but because he was left floating in a pool.

As for the reading, well, it was just that — a reading. Instead of the actors being present on stage at all times, however, they came and went with each scene — with the exception of Douglas Sills, whose character Joe Gillis narrated the story and thus hardly ever left the stage. But even Joe Gillis moved from microphone to microphone, never staying in front of the same music stand for very long. And he got to swing and swivel his hips in a brief rendition of Salome's dance at the end — oh wait...no...that was Norma Desmond (Betty Buckley)...

Despite the physical staging here and there, I think John Mauceri had it right when he likened this reading to a radio drama. Rather than relying on gestures and facial expressions to act out their parts, the actors used inflection and tone of voice to do so. In hindsight, perhaps I should have relied less on my binoculars and concentrated more on listening — then maybe I would have been able to hone in on my visualization skills. Of course, I would probably have been able to visualize a lot better had I seen the movie. And I may have been able to appreciate the dramatic effects of the score too, had I seen the movie. Without that appreciation, the score seemed secondary and trite — but then, maybe movie scores are meant to remain in the background. If so, what a shame to relegate the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra to such a secondary role!

Maybe next year, I'll chose a program that plays homage to the Orchestra...

After the reading, I spotted a local musical theater actor in the crowd. I told L who suddenly got very excited. She wanted me to take a picture of her with him. I pointed out that that would involve talking to him, and remember, she doesn't talk to random strangers. Evidently, actors are not random strangers. Either that, or they are the exception to the rule. L waited patiently until he had finished his conversation with those around him before approaching.

It so happens that this local musical theater actor is also a soap star. Afterwards, L alluded to her plan of showing the picture to her students who knew nothing of Douglas Sills, but would no doubt be impressed by this soap star. Well okay then, if talking to strangers is going to earn her brownie points with her students... Anything for those precious kids!