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.   

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!

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). 

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.

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...

Church and sushi...

In the tradition of nearly every Pineda holiday, most of our time was spent eating or in Church.  Trish and I had two gigs lined up, one at a Catholic Church in the Bronx for Good Friday (Is it really possible the splinter attached to the top of their portable cross is actually from the cross Jesus was crucified on?  How'd they verify that?) and the other at Juan’s Methodist Church in New Jersey for Easter morning (sadly, no cool Methodist relics).  Both were relatively painless, but extended affairs.  I shouldn’t really complain, since we were probably the only individuals at either service being compensated for their attendance. 

Val, Trish and I also took some time out over the weekend to relive precious childhood memories by decorating Easter eggs.  With an array of egg-sized stickers, mini sponge stamps, glitter, sequins and beads, we managed to create the gayest eleven eggs ever (Val dropped one of the dozen before the hard-boiling process - sad) and still had supplies leftover to donate to RuPaul's Drag Race. 

Mom, undaunted by the lack of humans under the age of 10 in the household, still “invited” the Easter Bunny to hop by Juan and Val's on Easter morning.  And judging by the size of the basket he left me, it seems the Easter Bunny is making a veiled comment about my growing midsection.  Curse you, Easter Bunny.  Just wait until I get down to my summer thong weight and then I'll shove those sugar free peanut butter cups right back up your furry...

As far as real food, nothing brings a smile to a Pineda’s lips faster than the words “all-you-can-eat buffet” - except maybe “FREE all-you-can-eat buffet.”  Thanks for picking up the check, Dad! 

Like last Easter, we had brunch buffet reservations at the Stone House in Watchung, NJ.  Sadly, the offerings seemed scaled back from last year.  Breakfast items fared best so I loaded up on the pork products - who doesn't love unlimited bacon and sausage?  Otherwise, the rest of the menu was a collection of random items - sushi, omelet station, carving station, pasta, assorted cheese plates and antipasto.  There’s something not quite right about a plate brimming with bacon, french toast and tuna maki.  Desserts were fine, but consisted mainly of your average catered wedding hall staples.  Oh well, if you can’t have quality, might as well have quantity.  And lots of alcohol - cut to Val, wasted on champagne sangria.  Happy Easter!

Squeak getting into the Easter spirit

Mom and dad

Me mesmorized by unlimited bacon and Trish just happy to be alive!

Le Comte Ory and burgers

Metropolitan Opera

Thursday, April 19

8pm perfermance

This is probably a dream cast for opera lovers.  Seriously, without another historical resurrection, Juan Diego Florez, Diana Damrau and Joyce DiDonato are as good as it gets.  As an added bonus, all three can actually (insert audible gasp here) act.   Unfortunately, the opera itself is sort of a mess. 

Bartlett Sher’s created and directed a stylish production and Catherine Zuber’s costumes show off some dazzling cleavage, but the story hobbles along in fits and starts due to an incredibly convoluted plot (even by opera standards).  When the lead trio of hams - in a good way - get to show off their coloratura and their comedic chops, the show whizzes along.  Otherwise, it’s slow going.  Though I never dozed off, I did find myself on more than one occasion drifting to thoughts of post-performance meal options.  But soon enough, I’d get slapped back to attention by an effortless high C or some other vocal feat.

The first act trio and ensemble that introduces us to Damrau’s character is the performance highlight, with all three singing actors at their best.  I truly suspect when this enters the rep with singers of less comparable acting skills, the opera will be a deadly, but pretty, bore.

My only “WTF” moment was the bed scene at the end of act two where Damrau and DiDonato (as a man) pull the old Cyrano trick, except with full body contact.  I understand the difficulty in staging this scene and yes, we’re expected to suspend our disbelief, but Ory is one horny bastard if he’s so turned on that he can’t figure out he’s in bed with two people, one of whom also has penis.  I mean, imagine if a counter tenor played the pants role?  That would be some truly non-traditional staging for the conservative Met.  Though my guess is that Florez would not be so open to a bout of tonsil hockey or dry humping from a dude, even for the sake of comedy.

The other highlight of the evening was the Cadillac burger at P.J. Clarke’s following the performance.  I only had a bite from Trish’s burger, but is was delish. 

I can’t wait to catch part two of the Met’s Die Walküre next month.  I’m still kicking myself for forgetting about my ticket to the sold out first part, Das Rheingold, last month.  Stoopid, stoopid, stoopid (picture me slapping myself on the forehead with the open palm of my hand).

That's funny, I don't feel a day over 40...

Thanks to incredible luck and a hell of a gene pool, I've never been one to shy away from revealing my true age.  When you're still mistaken for 30, it's sort of fun to see those surprised looks of envy and loathing. 

41 is such a boring birthday.  I mean, it doesn't really signify anything and it's such a big let down after "the big four-oh."  To compensate for its numerical insignificance, I decided to stretch the celebration through the weekend.  If there would be no pomp and circumstance, at least I could score a string of free meals. 

Since Thursday was a school night, we decided to postpone the real Birthday festivities for the weekend.  So on my actual birthday, April 14, I decided to be totally nasty and asked Trish to treat me to Papa John's.  Sure, a spicy Italian meats pizza with four different cheeses tastes good going down but it's not so friendly on the way out, if you know what I mean.  And being lactose intolerant, of course I couldn't end the meal without a big slice of - you guessed it - ice cream cake. 

Of course, no Birthday celebration would be complete without some kind of rehearsal, so I had to haul ass down to Jersey after work to spend my Friday night with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at Die Fledermaus rehearsal.  Fun. 

Continuing with the Italian theme, before heading back to Queens on Saturday afternoon Juan and Val took me out to The Olive Garden.  Don't judge.  I mean, who doesn't like endless salad and bread sticks? 

For Sunday brunch, Trish and I met Chris and Dan at The Astor Room, just a few blocks away from us on 36th Avenue.  It's a new restaurant underneath Kaufman-Astoria studios.  The atmosphere is really cool and laid back with a speakeasy vibe (a jazz trio added some authentic ambiance).  The food was better than average but the portions were a bit on the puny side.  I guess they made up for it with the free mimosa or bloody mary included with each meal. 

For dessert, we opted for blood and guts, catching a matinee of Scream 4.  The opening bit is hilarious and extremely clever, but after that it's your standard slasher flick.  Not that I'm complaining.  I love a good disembowlment.  The most exciting part of the movie? - the mini corn dogs.  Did I mention the portions at The Astor Room are on the small side?  Oh, and we also smuggled in my best Birthday gift yet, courtesy of Dan, a bag of Doughnut Plant doughnuts - glazed-covered orgasms in a bag. 

In honor of APA's "The Music Man" closing this weekend...

I have to post this crazy youtube video again.  Enjoy!