Mandy and Patti 3/29

Well, what can I say? It was Mandy and Patti for God’s sake! Amahzing - as Seth would say. No, they weren’t vocally perfect, but who cares? Even from a mile away - at least it seemed that way from our next-to-last-row fourth balcony seats - you couldn’t help but be knocked back by those personalities. Yes, both voices show the wear of long and prolific careers, but so what? The only time I don’t cringe at “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” is hearing Patti perform it. And while she does have that crazy belt / head voice split (and some very “creative” vowels) with absolutely no mix whatsoever, you forgive her. She’s earned the right not to have a mix. Mandy, of course, is Mandy. And I think you either love or hate that. Believe me, I’ve gone through phases of both, but regardless your opinion, you really have to respect the man’s intensity and commitment on stage. This man does not phone it in. Who knew funny could be intense? Together, well, they just have chemistry. They’ve both almost grown into Forbidden Broadway characterizations of themselves, but I almost prefer it to the conservatory cookie cutter musical theatre performers we get nowadays. Mandy and Patti can enthrall an audience: Technically perfect? - no - but fully engaging? - yes.

And now for my rant. (Please skip to the next paragraph if you don’t want to hear me bitch and moan.) These two are the last vestige of what I consider true Broadway personalities. Now we’re stuck with triple threat automatons. They are all “good,” but not very interesting individually. I mean, you can’t just be an excellent singer/actor any more, you also need to have a triple pirouette in your back pocket. And except for some rare exceptions, this just leads to performers that are good at everything, but don’t excel at any one thing.

Back to the concert - last night’s program consisted of standards, peppered with a few novelty numbers. And each act was anchored by a mini-musical complete with the truncated book scenes - South Pacific in act one and Carousel in act two. It was a treat to see these two, who in real life would never in a million zillion years be cast in these parts, sink their teeth into classic roles. I can almost hear Mandy telling Patti in rehearsal, “Let’s show ‘em how they SHOULD be performed.” What a trip to see Patti as an “Arkansas hick” and Mandy as the brutal Billy Bigelow. Sure, not ideal casting, but they made it work - Tim Gunn would be proud.

My fave moments: Ann Reinking’s chair-ography in “April in Fairbanks,” Patti’s “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,” Mandy’s “Franklin Shepard Inc” and the encore duets “You’re Just in Love” and “Coffee in a Cardboard Cup.”

Kathy Griffin

Y’all know I’m a fan of K-Griff’s (that’s my made up rap-name for my girl) "My Life on the D-List," but I’d never seen her perform live. Cynic that I am, of course I had some reservations. Is she really as funny as she seems on TV or is she just a product of brilliant editing? Can you really sustain an audience’s interest throughout an evening solely based in trash talk, complaining and gossip-mongering (actually, I know the answer is “yes” based on most social events I attend in the city - at least the ones skewed toward the gay demographic)? Did I want to attend her stand-up act only to be disappointed and have my idealized vision of Kathy’s quick wit and brilliant bitchiness forever destroyed? What if she actually sucks? What if she’s just not that funny? I mean, my friends are some of the cattiest bitches around. I have some friggin’ high standards when it comes to trash talk. So with extreme excitement and just a touch of trepidation, lest I witness the downfall of a personal icon, Trish and I headed to ghetto chic downtown Newark and the NJPAC.

First of all, I have never seen so many faggots in downtown Newark ever. I’m sure there were plenty of “WTF?’s” from the locals as well as from the staff at NJPAC. I mean, a Village People concert is probably less gay than Kathy’s audience. But girlfriend, the Jersey gays are not NYC gays, that’s for damn sure. I’ve always prided myself in not being one of those cookie cutter homos who is overly judgmental and all about style over substance. If you doubt that, ask Chris and Dan about having to pry my ten-year-old cargo pants from my death grip. I still feel the hole in my heart and in my closet. And don’t even get Trish started on my dress socks. I mean, who sees your socks anyway? But seriously, the Jersey gays do not know how to dress. You’re going to an event at NJPAC, for God’s sake! I mean, I’m not saying you need to break out the tux, but don’t look like a homeless person. Have some dignity, people. We have a reputation to uphold. And fag hags, and I mean that as a term of endearment, please buy clothes that fit you - not the size you wish you were. And I’m really not being mean. I’ve definitely packed on the pounds in the last year, but I don’t try to force my fat ass into size 32’s anymore.

Well, I’m happy to report that Kathy did not disappoint. Again, the reason her trash comedy works is that she always genuinely seems to mean what she says. If she likes someone, she’s unabashedly honest about it. If someone bothers her, she doesn’t give a f*ck who knows it. I think her true appeal is that secretly, most people wish they could be as open and honest as she is all the time.

My only complaint is that the show started way late and our seats were in the Himalayas. We could barely even see Kathy. For all I know, it was a midget in drag lip-synching to a recording. Of course, that’s my fault, since I was being a cheap skate that weak and opted for the nosebleeds. And talk about vertigo, I nearly threw up all over the lovely couple sitting next to me. A straight couple. Yes, there were a few of those in the audience as well. Straights need their comedy, too.

I heart Audra!

Her concert at NJPAC Saturday night was truly amazing. I honestly couldn’t stop smiling the entire evening. I was giddy like a 12 year old at a Hannah Montana concert. Two hours of solo material and two encores were just not enough for this Audra-phile. Did I mention that I LOVE Audra? Yes, I’m obsessed. Not in a John Hinckley way, but in more of an Altarholics way. It’s not like I want a lock of her hair or her toenail clippings, but I haven’t missed a NYC performance since her first magnificent (getting tired of the hyperbole? Too bad, it’s gonna’ keep on coming) performance on Broadway in Carousel. That’s actually a lie. I skipped Raisin in the Sun on principle because of the casting of Diddy/P Diddy/Puff Daddy/Puffy/Sean Combs -whatever the hell he goes by now - in the leading role. Really, how many name changes can one go through before coming off as just plain silly? Can you say identity crisis? And if you’re going to change your name, why would you choose “Puffy”? Anyway, witnessing the perfection that is Audra - did I mention that I LOVE Audra? - didn’t come without its trials. Trish and I risked life and limb to venture into downtown Newark, which resembles those old black and white pictures of seedy 42nd Street from the 70’s with all the prostitutes and crack heads. “If you got rid of those homeless people, these building would be so pretty,” was Trish’s reaction to our downtown excursion as I checked to make sure the car doors were locked.

The reason I’m obsessed with Audra is that she is such an incredible actress whose acting never interferes with the quality of her singing. She never “sacrifices” her sound for the performance, yet still manages to act circles around most other actresses and singers. She can make you cry with her performance, but if you closed your eyes, you would swear you’re listening to a studio recording. It’s not that I mind when a singer compromises some vocal quality for the sake of truthful performance, it just seems like Audra doesn’t need to. And in my lifetime of theater-going, there are scant few who have this ability (maybe Carolee Carmelo? I’m obsessed with her, too, by the way, but I’ll gush over her the next time I see her perform - if you wanna’ be blown away, see her on Youtube singing “Do You See What I See” but listen all the way through). Anyway, if you’ve never seen Audra perform or listened to a recording, go to Amazon.com and order any one of her CD’s and I’m sure you’ll be brainwashed into the Audra-cult. Don’t fight it, give in! Did I mention that I LOVE Audra? And if possessing a flawless voice and impeccable acting chops were not enough, she’s also gorgeous. I think she’s my straight crush.

As far as Saturday’s concert, she performed songs from Broadway musicals and movie musicals with a full orchestra. Although she didn’t stray far from the classics - R&H, Lerner & Loewe, Harold Arlen, Sondheim and Styne - she did veer into the realms of contemporary Broadway with selections by Jason Robert Brown, Adam Guettel, Michael John LaChuisa and some contemporary jazz arrangements of classics (“Edelweiss”, “Over the Rainbow”). Her audience banter between songs was casual and relaxed, mainly personal stories of her career and family life, although she did seem to be pulling some of the anecdotes out of her ass. But this only added to a more intimate feeling in the cavernous 2,500 seat PAC. Next up, Broadway Musicals of 1954 at Town Hall with my other semi-obsession, Sierra Boggess aka "The Little Mermaid".