Red Beach Island was much more densely packed with buildings and population centers than Blue Coral Island was. It was why Gilbert now carried a map with him as he tried to navigate the streets of the town he was currently in. Unfortunately he had never really been the best when it came to directions and despite the map and the clearly labeled street signs he was now lost.
“Am I even in the right town?” He wondered as he scratched his beak and looked down at his map once more. “That’d be very embarrassing… I hope I don’t miss their performance because of something like that. Where can I find the theater their troupe is performing at tonight?”
He had arrived only earlier today, and after inquiring at the information center at the dock he had learned the Festival Hoppers were performing tonight in the town of Red Tree.
Which he was fairly certain he was in right now. Of course he still didn’t know the name of the correct theater or anything either, he was just looking for random ones and hoping to see their troupe’s name on a placard or sign. The map was for finding the entertainment district and his way through it.
“Well this isn’t helping,” Gilbert said as he crumpled up the map and tossed it over his back. “Time to do this the old-fashioned way.”
He did not think about the choices and events that led to him almost getting killed by Bug-Bears years ago.
Instead he was going to hope things just turned out well and he’d get lucky.
It was the Rainbow Dash way of doing things. He could blame her for being a bad influence if it didn’t turn out well.
Gilbert thoughtfully followed the direction of the crowd and kept an eye out for any large buildings that looked like they could be theaters. The architecture here was different, buildings looking more like city buildings you would see in the Hundred Kingdoms. They probably lent themselves better to the crowded construction that took place on this island compared to the traditional style of buildings in the Archipelago. He hummed to himself and decided to enjoy the sights as best he could while he was here—no reason not to after all. Just because he may not have been exactly where he wanted to be didn’t mean he couldn’t make the best out of it. Also it would take him all of five seconds to ask for directions to the local theaters if he really couldn’t find the one he was looking for soon.
Fortunately he did seem to be a little lucky. While he had absolutely no problem striking up a conversation with a stranger, it was certainly simpler to find the theater he wanted on his own.
So Gilbert stopped in front of a large building with a wide open front door—a set of wide double doors in fact—with a signpost sitting in front of it. Peering down with a smile at the sign he read what was posted on it: Festival Hoppers performing tonight! Come see the Farce of the Narwhal!
“Splendid!” Gilbert happily shouted, catching a few weird looks from the ponies around him, before stomping on into the theater.
Thankfully he didn’t need some kind of pre-purchased ticket. Ponies were allowed to come in and sit wherever they wanted. He quickly walked down the hallway, down a rather nice red velvet carpet, past the theater’s manager, and into the room where the troupe would be performing. It wasn’t a large auditorium or anything like that, in fact there was certainly much less room than at the outdoor theater, but there were still plenty of rows of seats for him to use. There was a decent crowd already gathered inside as well, the play must be starting fairly soon.
Gilbert wanted as good a view as possible but the first few rows were all taken up. He had to settle for a seat more in the middle-section. He sat down with a happy smile on his face, between two empty seats, and waited for the curtain to rise and the play to begin.
About a minute later though he had a neighbor, an older unicorn mare sat down to his right.
Gilbert looked over at her and greeted her out of politeness. “Hello, Miss. Here to enjoy the play as well?”
She looked back at him, a hard-set frown on her face, and wrinkles around her eyes that were probably worsened from years of frowning. “I am here to watch the play. Enjoy? We’ll see.”
“I-I see...” Gilbert coughed, unsure how to continue.
She at least seemed to sense his hesitation, sighing before elaborating slightly. “I am a critic. My name is Unyielding Critique. It’s my job to watch performances like this and review them for the rest of the ponies on the Sarrarocco Archipelago.”
“Ah, now I truly see,” Gilbert nodded. “My name is Gilbert, I’m just here for fun.”
“Well, then let us both hope that we witness a good performance,” Unyielding Critique said right as the curtain began to rise.
Gilbert had an expectant grin on his face as he saw the backdrop of the play, an open ocean with a single small island in the middle of it. In the middle of the stage a lone pony stood, wearing torn up rags and surrounded by broken logs of wood. He looked closer and realized it was the mare who had pretty much invited him to come here—she stood with her eyes closed and a glum look on her face. For the moment she didn’t move or say anything and then a voice from off-stage began to speak:
“Our story begins here, with a ship-wrecked pony, hungry and about to give up on hope.”
From beside him, Gilbert heard a small huff of derision from Unyielding Critique, but neither she nor him said anything else.
At last the mare on stage now spoke her first lines and the play truly began.
“Oh, how sad this is. Stuck here for ages now and with no more food, and not a single ship has gone by in the meantime,” she opened her eyes to reveal them sparkling with tears. “What am I going to do? Oh just what am I going to do?”
Suddenly from off-stage another pony came out, a stallion dressed up in a narwhal costume. He ran towards the mare and skidded to a stop. “Hello!”
The mare jumped up, startled. “H-Hello? But who—what are you? Where did you come from?”
“I’m a narwhal, silly! Don’t you see my horn?” He leaned down to show his horn off to her.
“B-But narwhals shouldn’t be in tropical waters like this! What are you doing here?”
“Oh I know, right? My friends and family and everyone else just loves swimming in those icy arctic waters. But it’s so cold! I wanted to go somewhere warmer so I swam aaaaallll the way here!” The “narwhal” ran circles around the mare. “The waters are so warm, I’m full of energy!”
“My… this is… this is very confusing for me right now,” the mare said as she held a hoof to her forehead.
Gilbert watched the story continue from there as the narwhal invited the mare to hop on his back so he could rescue her and try to find a way back to her home. Along the way they met many more sea creatures like giant sea turtles, dolphins, whales, and sharks. The mare spent the whole time quite flabbergasted by what was happening, a sharp contrast to the boundless optimism and energy coming from the narwhal. All in all it was quite the silly story. A farce indeed.
Of course Gilbert was enjoying it immensely, finding himself laughing and smiling through most of it. The rest of the audience watching the play joined him—it seemed to be a pretty good hit.
The one obvious exception was the mare sitting next to him. Unyielding Critique’s face never so much as twitched upwards into a smile. And the only noise from her was certainly not a laugh, but huffs and snorts that showed her complete lack of amusement. Gilbert was feeling a little second-hand nervousness and embarrassment. These performers were very nice to him, and he was enjoying this play a lot, so sitting next to someone who most assuredly wasn’t was a little awkward.
Add to that that she was a critic and by the look of things she’d be writing a rather unfavorable review of the play. It would hurt the Festival Hoppers reputation if something like that happened. But what could Gilbert do about it? He could only hope that by the end of the play Unyielding Critique would find something to like about it.
“Thank you so much Mr. Narwhal, I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” the mare said as the narwhal finally brought her to her home island at the end of the play.
“You don’t need to repay me at all! The fun journey we had together is all the payment I could ever want!” The narwhal said.
“You are truly too kind… I’m going to miss you so much,” the mare said as tears started to spill from her eyes.
“I will miss you as well. But perhaps one day you’ll get shipwrecked once more and I’ll be there to rescue you.”
“Oh, I can only hope so.”
The curtain fell as most of the audience laughed and a modest round of applause filled the theater. Gilbert of course being one of the loudest. In stark contrast to the pony next to him.
Unyielding Critique raised an unimpressed eyebrow and merely shook her head, getting ready to stand up and leave. “I should’ve known as much.”
Gilbert winced and, perhaps a bit intrudingly, glanced over at the critic. “Did you perhaps not like the play?”
“What was your first clue?” Unyielding Critique scoffed. “My own mistake, even coming to watch a farce in the first place. Dreadful.”
“What’s wrong with a farce? And even if you didn’t think it was funny I don’t see how you can call it dreadful,” Gilbert frowned.
“Plays like this are not serious entertainment. Farcical comedies are low-brow, plebeian, insults to the art of acting and stagecraft. The only true form of acting comes from serious dramas. The ponies acting in plays like this, this troupe, they demean the entire acting world,” Unyielding Critique shook her head. “This narwhal story lowers the bar for performances everywhere.”
Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest as he defiantly looked back at the mare. “Well that’s hardly fair at all. Comedies like this have their place, not everything needs to be a stuffy drama. And what about their performances? They put a lot of effort and passion into what they were doing.”
“All for the simple effort of gaining cheap laughs,” Unyielding Critique waved him off.
“I disagree. Though comedy is certainly the main goal, there was a genuine friendship and companionship that developed over the course of the play. I was truly happy and moved at the end there when the mare said she would miss her narwhal friend. Farce or not. I think that speaks quite a bit to the skill of the actors,” Gilbert pressed.
“And I think the absurd comedy of the rest of the play only undermines that bit of emotion at the end,” Unyielding Critique shook her head. “The rest of the play was completely amateurish anyways. From the scenery, to the costumes, to the acting of the minor characters.”
Gilbert took a deep breath and exhaled. “Miss Critique, I may not be a critic myself, but I know what is and isn’t amateurish. These ponies are clearly doing the very best with what they have and the positive reaction of the rest of the crowd goes to show that. There is nothing amateurish about this. Amateurs would not be able to put on such an honest and convincing performance, I and the rest of the audience were drawn in to the play. I believe you are merely a pessimist who refuses to acknowledge the positive aspects of the play merely because it is not your cup of tea.”
“Well aren’t you quite full of yourself,” Unyielding Critique huffed.
“You might want to look in a mirror before you say something like that,” Gilbert was unrepentant. “Comedy has its place and there’s nothing wrong with just being a comedy either.”
The critic glared at him and Gilbert almost wilted under her gaze before her eyes softened slightly—though no smile came to her face. “I usually do not get challenged on my views, I suppose I should thank you for the unexpected change in my day. Hm, comedy will never be high-brow entertainment or true art but I suppose...” she glanced over at the stage where some of the actors were out now speaking with other members of the audience. “I can acknowledge a good performance at least. I don’t know why you were so defensive of this play in the first place, but you can rest assured that my review won’t be quite so scathing.”
A very small smirk twitched up her lips. “I’ll be fair.”
Gilbert smiled back and puffed out his chest. “Well that’s all that should really be asked. You have your opinions and I have mine.”
Unyielding Critique chuckled slightly and walked past Gilbert, going to leave the theater. “Indeed. I suppose I’ll leave you to give your appreciation to the troupe, farewell.”
“Goodbye!” Gilbert cheerily said to her. As soon as she was gone from the room he turned to look down at the stage. “Well this has turned out to be a great day now, hasn’t it?”
He stepped out of the row he was in and started to walk down to the stage, happy to say hello to the troupe that invited him here.