I'm a boy. And I hate musicals.
There, that was easy, and that was the supposed hard bit - admitting I have a problem. Well there it is. I despise musicals.
I can't stand the fact that one minute characters are having a deep and meaningful conversation only for all concerned to burst into spontaneous sing-song a split second later.
A number of times per week I have my enjoyment of television ruined by a film, an advert or even the bloody Simpsons descending into tunular verse.
From what I could always tell, musicals are just one of those old-fashioned arts that I don't understand; much like cubism, or jazz. And as far as i'm concerned, musicals are one thing that history can keep for itself.
Yet here I am, on a Tuesday evening, after my weekly football (the most macho of activities) has been cancelled, and I'm sat watching Mamma Mia. Worse still, and this is the hardest part yet, it's actually pretty good.
The story is ridiculous, the sun is always shining, people young and old are skipping along wooden jetties and diving into shallow blue sea... in truth it couldn't be more sickening - yet something just works.
Maybe it's because the music of ABBA has never seemed so at home. Maybe it's because seeing James Bond break into harmonies makes me cooler than him. Maybe it's because the football season has finished and the good weather is turning me gay. Surely not, because everybody in the film is so disgustingly good looking I'm even starting to fancy Meryl Streep. (Apologies to Miss Streep... and to Katie!)
Or maybe, and this is the last Maybe, it is because it is so unashamedly soppy, ridiculous and enjoyable, that watching it provides some pathetic sort of catharsis. It doesn't make you want to cry or change or be somebody better - it's just fun.
So, whilst I'm far from healed, I stand by my opinion that the Sound Of Music and Annie and Joseph etc etc are all crap, I am willing to make a small concession...
I'm a boy - and I hate (most) musicals.
