Monday, May 30, 2011

Is Bernadette Peters a vampire? Is Baltimore the ultimate straight dude party town? Is a T-shirt with the pun "Harry Otter" emblazoned on the chest inappropriate even at an aquarium? These and more burning questions answered in today's lengthy post...

The woman (Ms. Peters) does not appear to age.  At all.  As I was getting off the train Sunday night from Baltimore, I noticed a cute red-headed girl and her mother sitting a few seats behind me waiting for the crowd to thin out so they could grab their bags from the overhead.  On second glance I realized it was Bernie.  No doubt returning from DC after the Sunday performance of Follies at the Kennedy Center.  And we did have eye contact.  Exciting.  But I didn't want her to think I was some crazy, obsessed fan, so I gave a pleasant smile that I hope read, "Don't worry, I'm not going to jump you, hold you down, pull out a pair of scissors and make off with a lock of your famous red mane.  I'm just going to acknowledge that I recognize your fame and respect your privacy."  Yes, I can say all that with a single look.  I am Norma Desmond.

Seriously, though, the woman looks amazing.  She had not a wrinkle on her face and sported the bod of a 25 year old.  I'm guessing the older woman was her assistant, since she ended up hauling this huge traveling bag while Bernie toted her tiny rolling suitcase.  Not that I'm judging.  If you're an assistant, that's what you sign up for, right?

It was actually refreshing to see Ms. Peters mingling with the riff raff on Amtrak, though we were in Business Class, thank you very much.  There was no special attention from the porters and no entourage (except the old lady).  Just her and a hundred other sweaty passengers squeezing onto a tiny escalator in the oppressive tunnel humidity.  She must use some amazing product because that curly hair still looked fab.  I guess I had a romanticized image of her being escorted by a team of hunky, black-suited guards, hovering and protecting her from a desperate groupie or jealous show queen.  Oh wait, that's my own personal fantasy.  Forget I said that.

Anyway, the reason I was in Baltimore was to keep Trish company while visiting a friend celebrating her Birthday.  Trish's friend is from Richmond, but they planned the trip to coincide with the New Kids on the Block / Backstreet Boys tour playing Baltimore over the weekend.  I opted not to attend the concert since I figured the arena would be filled with screaming housewives longing to relive their faded high school glory days.  Who am I to get in the way of a 40 year old mother of two wanting to toss her granny panties at Joey McIntyre?  Sounds like a boatload of crazy to me. 

Instead, I used the opportunity to visit the National Aquarium and explore the Inner Harbor which I hadn't visited since performing at the Morris Mechanic Theatre (now defunct with tours booked into the larger Hippodrome) in the National Tour of Grease! way back in 1996 (damn, I'm old)!  The aquarium was much smaller than I had remembered.  Funny how time tends to exaggerate your memories.  Or is the extra 30 pounds I've put on since 1996 skewing my perception?  Who knows, but even with timed entry, the place was packed.  And the new Australia section is an architectural wonder, though it's really just a giant green house with an alligator and some exotic birds thrown in for good measure.  Add a couple of natives, i.e. Hugh Jackman and Eric Bana in loin cloths, and you might have something.

As for the rest of the Inner Harbor, it's impressive at first sight.  But once that initial impression wears off, you realize you're just wandering around a really nice mall dressed up with a harbor view.  I'd definitely head back for a more in depth exploration of the outlying neighborhoods, especially to experience more of that famous Maryland crab.

Saturday night I agreed to join Trish and the other Richmonders for an evening of Birthday debauchery.  If you're a straight dude into getting wasted and hooking up with skanks, the Power Plant Live! is the place for you.  This weird adult Disneyland is a complex of bars and restaurants tailor-made for straight swinging singles looking for booty.  Though I'll admit, as a sociology experiment the place is fascinating.  You could probably base a doctoral thesis on just the wierdly homoerotic, bromance action on display.  I'm not going to imply anything, but is it normal for drunk dudes to constantly hang, hug and maul each other's chests when their wasted?  Seriously, I think 10% might be low-balling it.

As far as the Birthday girl (I'm keeping it vague to protect the innocent), she got sufficiently wasted and we ended up having to pull her down from a table where she was dancing and showing off the goods in her short skirt.  Ah, youth.  We dragged her drunk ass about 4 blocks before she decided she couldn't make it the rest of the way back to the hotel.  We promptly hailed a cab to avoid getting arrested for public intoxication.

As for the Birthday girl's supposed "friends," well, let me just say, I was not impressed.  They showed up four hours late, didn't offer to pay for any of the Birthday girl's drinks (other than a round of shots) and then basically abondoned her when she needed their help most.  With friends like that...

The highlight of the weekend?  The peach cobbler and red velvet cupcakes at the Ooh La La Cupcakery and our now regular stop at the Maryland House truck stop for a Phillip's crab pretzel.

Inappropriate aquarium T-shirts:



Friday, May 27, 2011

Bats and sailors

The Pineda Lyric Young Artist production of The Bat opens next weekend.  Unfortunately, there's this little interruption called "Memorial Day" that occurs right in the midst of our tech week.  Don't get me wrong, I fully support our troops - I've dated both a Marine and a Navy man, thank you very much - but the break in the tech week schedule means Tuesday night's rehearsal - our first day back from a long weekend break - will be a guaranteed disaster.  Why?  Having worked with teenagers in shows for almost 10 years now, I have learned one thing:  unless forced or threatened, most student actors will do minimal, if any, prep work outside of the rehearsal hall.  Sure, there are the unusual students who will show up at each rehearsal off book and ready to go, but my decade of practical experience tells me not to hold my breath.

So after yesterday's run-through, which was preceded by three straight days of rehearsal, I had what I refer to as my "Juan moment."  Let me explain.  My brother, Juan (see sidebar on left), who teaches and directs students all the time, has - how shall I put it? - a bit of temper.  At around 2 or 3 days prior to tech week of any show, prompted by a missed cue, a botched entrance, the fiftieth repetition of the same stage direction or by a noisy ensemble backstage, Juan will inevitably lose his cool and go totally ape-shit on the cast.  It's actually quite scary but almost always warranted.  His face will get red, his neck will tense up and his voice will reach the decibel levels of a tornado siren. 

Though my "Juan moment" is usually prompted by a similar situation, I have the opposite reaction.  I become unusually calm, but with the sarcastic bite that only a gay man or a Real Housewife can muster.  And through a carefully worded, completely manipulative speech, I lay a massive guilt trip on the cast that would make any Jewish grandmother proud. 

So after yesterday's listless run-through, chock full of botched lines, forgotten blocking and just plain un-focused and careless execution, I gave my speech.  I immediately know my words have hit the bull's eye when I look down and see 20 pairs of puppy dog eyes looking up at me, hurt and surprised - as if they had expected me to praise their lackluster work.

Of course, I have to remind myself these are teenagers.  I mean, was I actually ever that studious and responsible when I was 15?  You bet your ass I was!  Hello, I used to lock myself in the piano room and practice 6 hours a day (not exaggerating - 2 hours before school, 4 hours after) and still maintained a straight "A" average.  Oh well, I was also considered a nerd to most of my peers.  It's a trade off.

Hopefully, last night's rehearsal was just a case of early summer-itis.  Until then, I'll enjoy the sights of the city this holiday weekend.  And by sights I mean sailors.  Yes, it's Fleet Week!  The annual event that literally brings boatloads of men in tight white pants to the center of the universe, New York City.  A gay man certainly had to have come up with the idea.  I'll sadly miss part of the weekend festivities as Trish and I will be heading to Baltimore to celebrate a friend's Birthday (report to follow), but I'll be back on Sunday night to leer at our brave men in uniform.

Happy Memorial Day weekend!

Thursday, May 19, 2011

That crazy Focker...

The House of Blue Leaves
Walter Kerr Theatre
Monday, May 16, 8pm performance

I first saw The House of Blue Leaves in the early 90’s when Muhlenberg Summer Theatre decided to experiment by presenting a play during its regular all-musical season.  Let’s just say they’re back to doing musical-only seasons.  Not that it was a bad production.  I remember enjoying it.  But housewives in Allentown, PA want to see big, splashy musicals, not challenging straight theatre. 

I was a budding young theatre fag living the dream and if I remember correctly, we were rehearsing My Fair Lady while Blue Leaves was running in the evenings.  Those were the days - living in communal cast housing, rehearsing, performing, drinking and partying.  In the 20(!) years since, this is my first time seeing another production of Blue Leaves.  I honestly don’t remember it being such a fucked up play.  Thanks to TDF, I snagged a nice second row mezzanine seat on far house right. 

Director David Cromer seemed a bit heavy-handed with the theatrical realism given the ridiculous story line and characters. I mean, a main character is named Bunny Flingus.  This ain’t Richard II.  I appreciate the approach, but in the end it’s an absurdist comedy that veers into farce.  You wont’ see a group of nuns, an AWOL soldier in altar boy robes and a deaf movie starlet running around an Arthur Miller play.

It took me most of the first act to warm up to Ben Stiller’s Artie.  But by the end, I felt some empathy for his desperate loser.  Edie Falco’s Bananas was, well, bananas.  But again, I think it was a mistake to turn her into a humorless zombie.  Why did Artie fall in love with this woman?  Why is he still with her?  Had I seen some remnant of an early love affair, I might have felt more sympathy for their current situation.  Right now, they come off us big ole whiners.

Jennifer Jason Leigh is either horribly directed or terribly miscast (or a little of both, I suspect).  Her nails-on-chalkboard screech of a voice makes one wonder how anyone could fall for her.  It’s a one note performance where although she always seems to be screaming, you can barely hear/understand what she’s saying.

The production starts to take off in act two with the introduction of the nuns.  But by then we don’t really care much for anyone on stage, so we’re basically watching a live cartoon - all action, no heart.  The exceptions being Thomas Sadowski and Alison Pill who seem to better understand the comic-tragic balance of the play, but who only grace the stage briefly.

The ending is still shocking and I like the oddly skewed set (though the obvious symbolism seems a bit like overkill).  Glad I saw it, but will wait another 20 years to see if the next revival can get it just right.  

Monday, May 16, 2011

If at first you don't succeed...

Spider-man: Turn Off the Dark
Foxwoods Theatre, Saturday, May 14
2pm performance

Well, it’s definitely improved, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s “good.”  It’s actually a fascinating study on how two different creative teams using the same cast, physical production and composer adapt the same story.  The Taymor version was an incoherent, often boring, but always visually stunning mess. The current production is vastly clearer, better directed, but safely (and still gorgeously) predictable. 

The book has been vastly improved by cutting the Geek chorus and most of Arachne’s role.  And where Taymor was mostly concerned with imagery and spectacle, the current production has instead rightly chosen to strengthen and develop the many relationships (Peter & Mary Jane, Peter & his Aunt/Uncle, Osborn & wife).  Playwright Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa has done the best he could under the circumstances, creating an intelligible story while also trying to shoe-horn in existing tunes and plot (in just three weeks).  In Taymor’s version, the characters seemed secondary to her iconic designs. 

The choreography is still head-scratchingly - for lack of a better word - odd.  It’s very Janet Jackson a la Rhythm Nation (see picture left and compare to military song in Act 1 - I'll try to post a pic if they ever publish one), but seems thrown in just to give the dancing chorus something to do and not at all in line with the angsty alt rock score.  

The flying is all still there, but smartly relegated mostly to Act 2 instead of right up front as in the previous incarnation.  As a college director told me once regarding my acting in a scene, “Don’t blow your wad too early or you’ve got no where to go.”  At least I think he was talking about my acting.  Ah well, wise words regardless of the situation.

Though only one song has been added, the existing score has definitely been re-arranged and augmented.  There are actually a couple of solid musical theatre songs in the second act (“Rise Up”, “Say It Now”), but a large chunk of the score is just generic rock. 

According to the blogosphere, many lyrics have also been changed.  But to be honest, the sound was so bad the first time around (they’ve since fixed this problem) that I have nothing for comparison.  

For those of you who care, the biggest changes I noticed:
  • Aunt Mae is no longer written as a bitch
  • Uncle Ben doesn’t get run over by a car but killed in a home burglary
  • Mary Jane’s father is now just a pathetic, helpless drunk rather than an angry drunk
  • The Arachne-Peter dream wedding and set are completely cut
  • The creation and appearance of the Sinister Six is now much more clearly explained
  • Green Goblin is now the main protagonist through the entire show
  • The two guitar players are no longer standing on the edge of the stage
  • No more eight-legged shoe song for Arachne
  • There are actually jokes written into the script (the original was a humorless bore)
  • There’s now actually an arc to the Peter-Mary Jane story so they don’t just fall in love and break-up out of nowhere
  • Though there’s more dialogue, they’ve managed to trim about 30 mins from the original 3-hour-plus running time
Incidentally, no one fell, nothing got stuck and nobody broke any bones.  I’d give the new production a solid C+ and the new artistic team an A for effort.  Shout out to replacement director Phil McKinley who directed me eons ago at The Fireside Theatre in Christmas Around the World.  And yes, that show was as cheesy as it sounds.   

Friday, May 13, 2011

Spider-man 2.0 and wedding shenanigans

I'm so excited I could wet myself.  Tomorrow Trish and I are seeing the third preview of the newly "revised" Spider-man.  I know, it pretty much sucked the first time we caught it during its first week of previews (the longest preview period in Broadway history, about 180 performances) way back in December.  But TDF offered tickets to the re-opening about a month ago and I pounced on 'em like a bear at a leather vest convention.  If you didn't get that metaphor, don't worry, it obviously wasn't aimed at you. 

Can a completely new artistic team (director, book writer and choreographer) fix a 70 million dollar musical train wreck in three weeks?  We shall see.  I sort of hope it's amazing, only because I feel bad for that cast.  On the other hand, I do enjoy a venti cup of steaming hot schadenfreude (with a slice of that luscious fat-free banana chocolate chip coffee cake!). 

In the meantime, it's off to the wilds of suburban Jersey for more The Bat rehearsals with the young 'ens. 

Oh, and I almost forgot about Trish's latest exciting news.  One of her best male friends, of whom she's had quite a - how shall I put it? - emotional past, just asked her to be his best (wo)man at his wedding this August.  That's like leaving Charlie Sheen unattended on a beach of crack sand.  No good can come of it! 

I can already picture the ceremony in my mind's one-brow-raised eye - bride on the left, Trish on the right and groom in the middle - awkward.  I suggest the preist cut "If anyone here can show just cause as to why these two may not be joined in Holy Matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace" because he just may get a few "hold up"'s from the congregation.  Can't wait for the big day!

Thursday, May 12, 2011

zombies and drag queens

After exiting the Met Opera House at 11:55 PM Monday night following their new five-and-a-half-hour production of Die Walküre, I couldn’t bear the thought of then sitting through a four-hour play.  So the next day I reluctantly called the Public box office and told them they could sell my fifth row center orchestra ticket for that evening’s performance of Kushner’s new play, “The Intelligent Homosexual’s Guide to Capitalism and Socialism With a Key to the Scriptures” - doesn’t exactly scream light-hearted family fun, does it?    

Normally, I would have sucked it up and forced myself to attend both marathon performances, but Kushner isn’t exactly Neil Simon.  And given the fact that significant brain cell wattage had been expended in the last 24 hours digesting Wagner’s gorgeous but musically dense score, I was in no mood for challenging, political theatre, no matter how brilliant. 

Instead, I stayed home and caught up on the last few episodes of my favorite reality show, RuPaul’s Drag Race.  Those queens are downright hilarious (and terrifying)!  And that’s just what I needed, some brainless lip-synching fun with a couple of bitches. 

I’ll still get to catch that “Intelligent Homo” later in the month.  As a member of the Public, I can post date my ticket and show up on another evening as long as they’re not sold out.  Membership has its privileges!

Die Walküre
Metropolitan Opera House
6:30pm performance

I guess I should talk about the Wagner.  Well, it was really, really long.  Not that I have a problem with that, but after a nine-hour work day, I wasn’t exactly at my best mentally.  I admit the nearly two-hour first act almost put me to sleep.  Not because it was boring per se, but because I was so darn tired.  I quick $5 brownie from the concession stand got my blood sugar levels back up.

The much talked about 16 million dollar production with its 45 ton set piece is impressive at first sight, but the novelty wears as the opera progresses.  The hulking piece of metal just isn’t that flexible and is surprisingly monotonous visually.  Yes, it moves and twists and you can project on it, but it’s not until the third act, with the flight of the Valkyries, that director Robert Lepage realizes the full potential of his bulky giant.  It’s here we get to see the sisters “ride” the over-sized planks like horses and then slide down their “necks.”  Until then, the structure just sort of sits there.  Perhaps he has some surprises in store for us in parts three and four of the cycle?  We shall wait and see next season.

The singing was some of the best I’ve heard on that stage in some time.  I’ve gotten used to listening carefully to the smaller lyric voices that often get swallowed up in the huge Met barn.  But it was a pleasure to hear full, dramatic voices fill that immense auditorium.  The hottie tenor, Jonas Kaufmann, sounded especially good as Siegmund, his unusually dark voice sounding downright baritone-ish in mid register.  His sister-lover-wife, Sieglinde, performed by Eva-Maria Westbroek, was a good match with a similarly thick, dark sound. 

I cannot say enough about Stephanie Blythe’s Fricka.  See her in anything if you get a chance.  That voice is just magnificent.  Terfel was solid if a little stiff as Wotan, though his voice is just gorgeous to listen to (get his Rodgers & Hammerstein CD, Something Wonderful, like buttah!). 

I was on the fence about Deborah Voigt’s Brünnhilde.  I’ve seen her perform before the gastric bypass and I have to say, I think she’s lost some of the richness in her voice.  Her top seemed a bit shrill to me, though her mid register still has the warmth I remember.  Or perhaps she needed the second act to warm up?  - because it seemed the quality of her voice bloomed a bit more in the third act.

Oh well, I’m glad I saw it but have no real desire for a second visit.  Although I’ll likely catch parts three and four next season given my completist mentality.  Or is that just my OCD kicking in again?

On a side note, my good friend, Chris, was speaking to an actor friend of his who mentioned he was going to be a supernumerary at the Met in “some opera called ‘Die, (as in “death”) Walker.’”  --  Actors are so pretty but so dumb.  Or as Chris commented - sounds like a great title for a zombie opera.  Get on that John Adams (the composer, of course, not our deceased second President). 

Monday, May 9, 2011

Preperation-H time

Wish me luck.  After work today I'm off to the Met for its new five-hour production of Wagner's Die Walküre.  I've actually never seen a live performance of any Wagner opera, so I'm looking forward to testing my stamina on this one.  Go big or go home, right?  At least The Met agrees, with a 45 ton set (they had to reinforce the stage to handle the weight) that looks sort of like a big honkin' strand of DNA.  Still, five hours is a long time.  I might have to smuggle in a red bull or two.



Idiotically, I also bought tickets to see the new four-hour Kushner play down at the Pulic, The Intelligent Homosexual's Guide to Capitalism and Socialism With a Key to the Scriptures.  I should have known better from that title alone.  Anyway, it's going to be two extremely long and intense days of theatre-going.

Wagner and Kushner, back-to-back - my head might explode.  If I don't fall asleep first.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Royals, gays and terrorists, oh my.

Who'd have imagined a weekend that started off with a royal wedding would end with the assassination of Osama Bin Laden - or as Fox News reported, Obama Bin Laden (perhaps a Glenn Beck-inspired Freudian slip? - scroll down for photo).  Anyway, I didn't catch the royal wedding live.  That three hours of sleep is far more important to me than catching a first glimpse of Kate Middleton's wedding gown.  I know, revoke my "Dorothy's Boys" membership card immediately.  Wouldn't "Dorothy's Boys" make a great name for a cabaret bar?

In keeping with the weekend's political theme, I highly recommend The Normal Heart, a play that Trish and I caught Sunday afternoon on the Broadway.  The first production I'd seen of this play was at a community theatre in Allentown, PA about a hundred years ago while still an undergrad at Muhlenberg.  Is it possible I'm old enough to send students to audition there now?  I need a drink. 

I'm embarrassed to admit that at the time I was bored out of my mind by what seemed like an overly preachy piece of gay theatre filled with a bunch of unlikeable characters.  Of course, having lived in NYC for the last - gulp - 18years, I've now met and/or befriended some facsimile of each one of these characters.  Moral of the story, every play deserves a second chance, especially if the first "chance" was a community theatre production.  Now don't get your panties all in a twist, I've seen some incredibly professional community theatre shows - namely mine (that was a joke, people, lighten up), but I've also seen plenty of shitty ones, and that production falls in the latter category.

As the saying goes, it's all in the execution.  What had seemed preachy and labored in Allentown, is viscerally exciting and inflammatory in the hands of a gifted director and the current Broadway cast.  It doesn't hurt to have hotties Lee Pace and Wayne Wilcox in the cast either.  Perhaps in my closeted youth, political activism wasn't yet something I was comfortable accepting, but what a difference twenty years makes.  This indictment of the Reagan administration's handling of the AIDS epidemic - or rather how the government chose not to acknowledge the epidemic - is political theatre at its best.  In hindsight, it's a wonder anyone's alive and healthy given the facts presented. 

I also haven't been to a play - or musical for that matter, and I've seen Next To Normal three times - where the audience was so emotionally wrecked by the curtain call.  The two Long Island matinee ladies sitting next to me were passing tissues to each other through the second act and the sniffling and nose blowing by the rest of the audience was almost distractingly constant.  It took every ounce of self control I could muster not to totally lose it during the last 10 minutes of the show. 

Regardless of your political assignations, this play is a must-see if only for the central performance of Joe Mantello.  Just hand him the "Best Actor" Tony right now.  Speaking of the Tonys, I'm very excited about this years nominations - 14 nominations for Book of Mormon, 12 for Scottsboro Boys and 0 for Wonderland.  I wonder which show will be closed by July?

The Normal Heart
Golden Theatre, Sunday, May 1
2 PM performance

Oh, Fox News...
"I'd rather be nine people's favorite thing thana hundred people's ninth favorite thing."

Jeff Bowen, Lyrics "[Title of Show]"