Editor's note: In a recently revived tradition — with little to no trace of its prior existence — I decided to continue the Editor-in-Chief’s review of the Triangle Show for a second year. This review is not entirely satirical and sadly not at all fictional, though it does discuss fiction. But nonetheless, it is definitely not serious.
ENTER: A journalist wearing a frumpy cardigan, a small town occasionally subsumed by national headlines, and the existential threat of an unpaid internship.
As I watched this year’s Triangle Show, “Pageant Pending,” I couldn’t help but ask myself a question first and famously uttered in Season 14 of RuPaul’s Drag race: “Is it me? Am I the drama?”
This year’s Triangle show is all about journalism — from the woes of local media outlets to the power of social media virality, and even the appearance of a sage, judgmental Anderson Cooper. Underpinning the club’s usual comedic mastery, Triangle’s troupe of writers offer a piercing rebuke of sensationalism, grant insight into the demise of by-the-book ethics, and expose the pressures behind satisfying a constantly-clamoring audience.
In my view, this show endeavors to unearth the disintegration of a reliable, mainstream media — continually crushed by a changing landscape day by day.
Oh, and I guess it’s also about pageantry.
From the first seconds of the performance, Triangle acclimates the audience to the glitzy and glamorous setting to come. Rico Sterling, (a charming Joe McLean ’27), our charismatic pageant host, introduces us to the “world of pageantry” in a grounding pre-show announcement, pleading the audience to exit in the case of a mid-show fire “with poise, grace, and charisma.”
Once the curtain lifts, we are introduced to Lacy Shorts (played by an effective Leah Johnson ’27), our Miss Idaho in waiting. In a bout of child-like wonder, or perhaps dysregulated excitement, Miss Idaho releases noxious squeals ahead of her appearance on “America’s Most Wanted” — the “oldest, biggest, most prestigious pageant in the world.”
As Lacy prepares to depart for the Las Vegas stage on a crowded bus full of other contestants, our enterprising journalist awaits. Bella D’Bahl, powerhouse and star Alison Sildorff ’25, is covering this small town spectacle as the sole reporter at the “Mercator Weekly.”
While many audience members dream of having a character based on them, I am left to ponder the legitimate possibility. Sildorff and I were roommates junior year, a fact I share for transparency’s sake, and of course, the subtle brag.
As she interviews Miss Idaho, and her fellow contestants burst out into song about their excitement for the trip to come, catastrophe strikes.
Darling Miss Idaho is struck by the bus! Gasps echoed around the theater in that moment — a subtle “thank god” may have crept out of Row R.
This moment spells out Bella’s big break: She finds herself moments before a national maelstrom of journalists descends on her small town over the hottest story in show business.
In a rising all-cast “I want” ballad, Bella expresses her desire to transform into a known quantity on the reporting scene in “Off the Record.” At first, I found myself wincing at the consistent misuse of ‘off-the-record,’ but I became increasingly perturbed instead by Bella’s actions.
Why? A journalist should simply never become the story.
Besides the fact that we are generally uninteresting, stories written for personal gain will always prioritize intrigue over the truth.
Perhaps most to blame for her fall into sensationalism is her Mercator media competition, influencer KingSexty9 (Liam Wang ’26 at his most riotous). Clad in cheetah print pants, the stories he covers always center on him, successfully conjuring a cult-like persona. Those in power clamor to get in front of his camera because attention is bound to follow. The local journalist, without the same might, is left with a craving for that recognition.
While Sildorff’s mesmerizingly jazzy vocals managed to force my sympathy towards poor Bella’s desperation, her misguided longing for attention ultimately leads her into a dangerous web of lies.
Bella enters the pageant at the advice of her new doting bestie and career runner-up Mr. Kansas, Derrick Da Silva (played by a genuinely show-stopping George Tidmore ’26), in order to gain the elusive “inside scoop.” Perhaps she’s modeling the journalistic tradition pioneered by immersionists, like train-hopping Ted Conover, but we mustn't be too optimistic.
After Derrick vents his mounting frustration with reigning pageant champ and nemesis Miss California, Cassie Leroux (played by an elegant Kavya Bhat ’27), he resigns to a spell-binding track, “Oh Tonya.” Presenting an impassioned call to the famous, knee-smashing, runner-up, Tonya Harding, Derrick prays for Cassie’s failure.
Upon the discovery that her tape recorder had captured the entire incriminating ballad, Bella decides to commit the gravest journalistic violation of them all — quote manipulation. Seduced by scantily-clad ensemble members in newspaper print clothing in the standout number “Extra Extra,” she manipulates George’s prayer into a fabricated plot to kill Cassie.
Here’s everything you need to know about journalism, and then some: Don’t lie.
Oh, but, how lies do sell. Bella’s plot succeeds, and she amasses the adoration of readers and pageant participants alike while destroying Derrick’s reputation. Finally, she’s done it — she’s made it “on the record” (still wrong, but A for effort) and enters the pageant to continue her rumor mill. However, her ascent, like all things wrongfully won, is short-lived.
After spinning lies about her fellow contestants, her a-ha moment comes from her hero — a stern and direct Anderson Cooper. He humiliates her, calling the gossip she published “tasteless” and “devoid of fact” — the journalists in the audience held our breaths.
In a stirring moment of self-realization, Bella belts “Headlines over Heels” and leaves her days of tall-tales, and pageantry behind.
Bella ultimately stays at Mercator with the Weekly. “I’m very corruptible,” she tells Anderson Cooper in the closing minutes of the show reflecting on her decision to stay local.
And, aren’t we all? Honest journalism is a dying breed. “Pageant Pending” treats us to a success story — a local, community outlet perseveres despite all odds. The sad thing is in reality few manage to survive and many struggle to stay afloat.
If you felt Bella’s pain, follow along with your local paper and the others who endeavor to tell the stories of Princeton.
Eden Teshome is a former stagehand who dropped out for a career in small-town journalism. She does not sensationalize and certainly does not lie. She can be reached at eic[at]dailyprincetonian.com.