How to get Get The Drowsy Chaperone Tickets
To begin your search for Get The Drowsy Chaperone Tickets, select the date that you would like to attend from the schedule above. The "View Tickets" tab will allow you to advance to the next process.
The next step will allow you to "filter results" via our The Drowsy Chaperone Tickets seating chart for Get The Drowsy Chaperone Tickets. Click on the map and scroll through the different sections of the theater all while viewing the stage from each location you click on. You can sort seats by price (Low to High or Hight to Low), rows and sections to find the perfect location to match your budget.
Once you are ready you can proceed by setting up a Barry's Tickets account or log in to your existing account in order to set up E-Downloading your tickets or check on your order being processed. You can also select Federal Express or Pick Up at on of our offices even on the day of your show.
You can opt to pay via Credit Card, Amazon Checkout or PayPal. If you have questions or would like to order over the phone you can call (866)708-8499 and speak with a Barry's Tickets team member who will be happy to help you.
More about The Drowsy Chaperone
At an audition for an upcoming Broadway production, director Zach and his assistant choreographer Larry put the gypsies through their paces. Every dancer is desperate for work ("I Hope I Get It"). After the first selection, 17 dancers remain. Zach tells them he is looking for a strong dancing chorus of four boys and four girls. He wants to learn more about them, so he tells them to introduce themselves. With reluctance, they reveal their pasts. The stories generally progress chronologically from early life experiences through adulthood to the end of a career.
The Drowsy Chaperone is an homage to American musicals of the Jazz Age.
Act one begins with The Man in Chair, a mousy, vaguely depressive Broadway fanatic whose coping mechanism involves listening repeatedly to a recording of a 1928 stage show, The Drowsy Chaperone. When he first turns on his phonograph and static breaks from the speakers, he wistfully tells the audience, "I love that sound. To me, that's the sound of a time machine starting up." By the time the first note sails out of his speakers, he's been transported to a magical dream world, one where the actors in the recording enter his dingy apartment and transform it into a gloriously garish set complete with seashell footlights, sparkly peacocks, glittery sugarplum trees, and costumes that would put the Ice Capades to shame. The show-within-a-show centers on a vain showgirl, who is about to marry a man she only just met, and her cigar-chomping producer, who doesn't want to lose his valuable starlet. What follows is a pastiche of every clichéd plot thread ever written, including mistaken identity, spit-takes, and gangsters on the lam, involving such campy characters as an all-knowing English butler, a Latino Lothario, and a daffy, cartwheeling heroine. Watching from his armchair, Man in Chair is torn between his desire to absorb every moment of the play as it unfolds and to insert his own personal footnotes as he continuously brings the audience in and out of the fantasy.