Bring It, Woolf, Drood, Scandalous, Christmas Story and Giant

What happened to November?  I can't believe Thanksgiving whizzed by and we're now deep into December.  Here's a quick and dirty rundown of my last couple of theatre-going experiences.  Check back soon for my Thanksgiving posts!  Not to worry, nobody lost a finger this year.

Bring It On: The Musical 
St. James Theatre
July 14, 2pm performance

I guess this show didn't leave much of an impression with me considering it's been nearly five months and I never bothered to post about it.  Not that I wasn't entertained.  It's fun, totally harmless, summer fluff - a High School Musical wannabe with a pop-pastiche score that sort of all runs together, but enjoyable nonetheless.

I'm not sure why they bothered to keep the movie title (other than name recognition) because the characters and story line aren't remotely similar to the movie.

The choreography and acrobatics are impressive, but after the hundredth pyramid I was sort of hoping someone would fall just to change it up a bit.

The cast is super talented and mostly buff, just like real high school students (that's sarcasm, folks).  Of course, all your loveable stereotypes are on display: nerdy-fat-girl-who-blossoms-into-cool-chick, preppy-white-girl-fish-out-of-water-at-ghetto-school, sassy-finger-snapping-black-girl-with-homegirl-posse, dorky-but-cute-techie-nerd, dumb-but-loveable-cheerleader-jock-boy, latin-homeboy-with-borderline-offensive-accent, seemingly-innocent-blonde-underclassman-who's-actually-a-scheming-bitch, and - well, you get the idea.  I do give props to the production team for including a cross-dressing, gay character even if the character is - you guessed it - a sassy black boy.  You go, girl!

In the end, it has a nice message about acceptance and individuality, if you're into that.  The creative team does attempt to seem subversive, but in the end, the whole enterprise still has the whiff of Disney-fied cleanliness.  It's entertaining, if predictable, and definitely geared to captivate the tween-friendly, Justin Bieber demographic.

And the lyricist gets extra points for somehow finding a way to end a song with the lead character belting the word "biyatch."  

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Booth Theatre
October 2, 8PM

Has it really been only seven years since the last Broadway revival of this modern American classic starring husky-voiced Kathleen Turner and quirky clown Bill Irwin?  The current production lacks the same star power but to the benefit of the text, which isn't hampered by a movie star persona.

Tracy Letts and Amy Morton give a more naturalistic performance then some of their more famous predecessors.  Morton in particular gives a more sympathetic portrayal and consequently changes the usual dynamic between George and Martha.  They now seem to be more equally abusive rather than having Martha just dominate George at the outset.

When I saw this play for the first time years ago, I had no idea where the story was heading and by the time act three rolled around (yes, it's three acts long but flies by), wasn't sure if they were all going to kill each other or have an orgy.  But that's the beauty of the play and the writing.  It's totally over the top, but anyone who's been in a relationship can identify with the manipulation, passive-aggressive behavior and general fucked-up-ness that comes with a bad long-term relationship marred with regret and disappointment.  I mean, who hasn't imagined clubbing their loved one to death and then sleeping with the neighbors younger and hotter spouse?  What, just me?

Anyway, if you're looking for intense - I mean really intense - psychological drama, check out Virgina Woolf.  It makes "Grey's Anatomy" look like an episode of "Friends."

For another funny, yet completely accurate review, check out Bros on Broadway at Theatremania.com, a new feature where "ordinary" guys are asked to see and then write reviews of current Broadway offerings.  High-larious!

The Mystery of Edwin Drood
Studio 54
October 25, 8PM

I missed this show in its original run on the Broadway, but I've always had a fondness for the score and for that freakish high "E" belted by La Buckley in the finale.  I'll leave Seth Rudetsky to explain the a-mah-zingness of it all (from his deconstruction series on Youtube).



Stephanie Block comes thrillingly close to achieving the same goose-bump moment, her jaw dropped so far open to make space for the note that I could nearly see her uterus from my balcony seat.  But I digress...

The only production I've seen of Drood was years ago at a high school.  And judging from that production, you'd think Drood was a humorless snooze-fest. Granted, I'm not convinced it's a great show, but it's amazing what a top notch cast and a strong directorial viewpoint can do for a solid, if less than dramatically perfect, show.

The success of the current revival relies heavily on its cast of Broadway A-listers and their ability to charm the audience.  The show-within-a-show structure - a traveling British Music Hall troupe presenting "The Mystery of Edwin Drood" - allows the cast freedom to improvise and address the audience directly.  The constant winking and mugging to the audience, which I usually despise, works perfectly in this context. 

The gimmick, of course, is that the audience gets to choose the ending based on a vote.  As the murderer, our audience chose Jessie Mueller's deliciously campy and mildly politically incorrect take on Helena Landless, the exotic orphan twin from Ceylon.  I'm so glad her career wasn't sunk by that abysmal revival of On a Clear Day... a couple seasons back. 

Yes, Chita Rivera's cockney accent disappears almost as soon as she's uttered her first line and her two ballads are now up-tempos given her inability to sustain a note, but who cares?  She's Chita friggin' Rivera!  A miscast legend is still a legend, says I. And she looks ravishing in a red wig.

Costumes, sets and lighting design are gorgeous.  Sound, however, is an issue and the sometimes overly wordy lyrics are often lost beneath a tinny sound design.  Nonetheless, unlike my endless night at that high school theatre years ago, this evening of frothy fun flew by (how's that for fancy alliteration?). 

Scandalous
Neil Simon Theatre
October 26, 8PM 

Really?  Did no one see this coming?  Is Kathie Lee Gifford so powerful and intimidating that no one dared say, "You're show sucks!" to her face during the show's years of out-of-town tryouts?

Carolee Carmelo is still a Goddess, but they didn't even give her one good power ballad for the gays to cream over.  Seriously, it's Carolee Carmelo, for heavens sake!  Make that gorgeous bitch - and I mean this with all the gay love in my blackened heart - belt a high "E".  We deserve something in return for this very expensive nap time.  Well, okay, I guess you did give us Ed Watts in a loin cloth.  But that doesn't make up for the bland score and lyrics, ugly set, lack of character development or snooze of a book.  It's not exactly thrilling to have the main character narrate her own story by stating, "First I did this.  Then I did this.  And then I did this."  I'm not exaggerating. 

It's not the worse night I've spent at the theatre, but I'd rather hate something with a passion than be utterly bored.  I actually found myself staring at the glossy, white, false proscenium thinking, "Ooh, it's so glittery!" while a faux gospel number chugged away on stage - not a good sign.

There's definitely a compelling story here, but perhaps it's in need of a different writer and composer (but keep Carolee!).

A Christmas Story
Lunt-Fontanne Theatre
November 8, 7PM

It's been a while since I've actually fully enjoyed a holiday-themed Broadway show - probably A Christmas Carol way back in the roaring 90s.  Remember the 90s?  When producers didn't have to announce that it was inappropriate to text during a performance?

Maybe I'm just a sucker for the Holidays, but I started to get misty-eyed during the opening production number.  Then again, I weep every time I watch Colin Firth's character propose to Aurelia - sniff, sniff - in Love Actually, so perhaps I'm not the best barometer.

Anyway, the musical closely follows the movie plot (or so I've been told, since I've never actually watched the movie all the way through) but adds some sassy production numbers including a clever chorus line of lamp-shade legs.

The real joy in this production comes from the ensemble of triple threat child actors - except for maybe the one who had to keep glancing sideways because she couldn't remember her choreography.  I won't name any names, but it was the one that wasn't white.  And yes, I'm jealous of a 10-year-old girl and bitter, nastiness is my coping mechanism.

Where did they find these little freaks anyway?  And I mean that with all the love in my heart. Caroline O'Connor is incredible (to me she'll always be that nasty bitch from Moulin Rouge) but she might as well not be on the stage when little Luke Spring starts tapping next to her.

John Bolton and Erin Dilly are a perfect Midwestern couple.  But when did Erin Dilly become a "mom" type?  Man, I'm getting old.  Dan Lauria has the perfect warmth and charm as the narrator when he wasn't stumbling on his lines.  Though given it was a first preview, I'll cut him some slack.

Pasek & Paul have created score that has a traditional sound and structure with a hint of contemporary musical theatre a la their recent off-Broadway show, Dogfight.  It's a welcome relief from all the revivals and the now omnipresent faux-pop and jukebox scores pandering to tourists and bored housewives.  I'm not saying they're all bad, but it's nice to have variety.

The physical production is mostly beautiful but the flimsy fake proscenium screams bus-and-truck tour. 

Giant
Public Theatre
November 21, 1PM

Seating charts lie and sometimes row B is the front row.  I know, crazy, right?  Okay, now that I've got that off my chest...

At first, I was supremely uncomfortable and self conscious sitting front row center.  My knees were literally touching the edge of the stage as I contorted my neck to view the raised playing area.  Every so often I'd make eye contact with a cast member and then quickly avert my gaze in embarrassment as if I was some creepy old man watching a playground full of kids at recess.  But then I thought, "Fuck it, I paid for my ticket.  I'll ogle the cast all I want.  And then I'll send them my chiropractor's bill."

With that, I was finally able to relax.  And like a demented serial killer, I started to notice tiny details - the frayed netting on Kate Baldwin's wig, Brian D'Arcy James' bushy forearm hair, the trickling sweat on PJ Griffith's brow and neck, the shiny plastic face of the fake Mexican baby.  Unfortunately, years of theatre-going combined with dozens of directing and choreographing gigs have spoiled my eyes to the "illusion" of theatre.  Oh well, I was still able to appreciate this well-crafted, if flawed work.  But from the front row?  Never again.

Michael John LaChiusa has crafted his most accessible score to date.  In fact, it's downright melodic.  Unfortunately, it also suffers from repetition and could use some judicious cutting.  Several characters sing more than one song about the same issue or problem.

I admire LaChiusa's ambition as well as the show's scale and scope, but there were times I was sure the show was ending only to have the stage lights come up on another scene.  Conversely, the penultimate scene seemed rushed and the finale abrupt.  It was as if the creative team arbitrarily determined the show's length in order to avoid paying the orchestra overtime.

The cast is uniformly excellent with the appealing Kate Baldwin (let me suggest her now for the rumored Lincoln Center revival of The King and I) and Katie Thompson as stand outs.  As much as I admire the talented Bobby Steggert, he seems to be cast in the same quirky, misunderstood, man-child roles over and over again.

Though wonderfully acted, Michelle Pawk strains uncomfortably with the vocals, consistently singing under pitch at the performance I attended.  It worked for the character, but makes me wonder if there might be some vocal damage there.

The physical production evokes dozens of locations beautifully while making the small Newman stage feel expansive.

It's also a treat to hear a full orchestra live, especially given the beautiful Copland-esque orchestral arrangements.

Sister Act

Actor's Fund Benefit
Sunday, October 2, 8 PM performance

I've been putting off seeing this one for months because Trish saw the London production and didn't have much good to say about it.  But it came up on TDF for an Actor's Fund benefit performance, so I said, "What the hell, might as well give it a try and at least I'll have contributed some cash to a worthy cause."

So I'd have a frame of reference, I made Trish come along with me.

Well - brace yourselves - I actually enjoyed it.  It's no Follies, but it's got some really clever staging, an impressive physical design and a couple of great songs (as well as some mediocre ones).  It also has a near show-stopping performance by Victoria Clark as the Mother Superior.  Which only goes to prove that no, you do not need to belt a high E to send a musical theatre audience into a frenzy (please take note all you contemporary musical theatre composers who don't even acknowledge that the soprano voice exists).  Vickie does it with a beautifully held high note in her head voice.  Yes, her head voice.  And that says a lot considering she's competing against the soulfully sung Deloris of Patina Miller.  Check out her hilarious and - forgive me in advance for using the adjective - fierce performance of "Random Black Girl" below.



To be honest, it is a slight let down not to hear the songs from the movie.  But the Menken score (though not as instantly memorable as his many hook-friendly Disney scores), is appropriately 70s - the time period has been shifted for the musical. 

According to Trish, the book appears to be completely re-written (per Trish, it wasn't funny in London) and many London songs have been jettisoned.  It also seems they've added two songs for Victoria Clark including the aforementioned show stopper (Mother Superior doesn't have any songs in London).  So basically, the Broadway production is completely different than the London production.  Weird, right?

It was widely publicized that Douglas Carter Beane script-doctored the production before it opened in New York.  But it seems he just kept the story line and re-wrote the whole damn thing, to its advantage.

Granted, I did see an Actor's Fund performance and the audiences at these fund-raisers (the actors, musicians, crew and theatre staff all donate their time) are usually filled with theatre queens, actors and other Broadway insiders, so the energy and enthusiasm in the theatre feels like an opening night.  So perhaps the performance energy was knocked up a notch or two.  Though God knows they need that little something extra, given it's usually an added ninth show at the end of their performance week.  What 'evs, I still enjoyed myself and would recommend the show if you can't get into Mormon, Priscilla or Follies.

Sadly, the show's original songs will never come close to eliciting the same giddy excitement as Marc Shaiman's (composer of Hairspray) arrangements from the movie. 

Tonys

Oh, the Tonys.  Does anyone except New Yorkers and gay men (despite the opening number disclaimer) even watch?  Though the ratings are always dismal, word is that CBS president, Les Moonves, likes to hang on to them for the "prestige" factor.  The show regularly wins the low-ranking network a few Emmys each year.

Well, if the Tonys hoped to catch any straight viewers this year, their unfortunate scheduling opposite the NBA finals dashed those hopes.  Oh well, maybe next year.  And maybe someday you'll also find me relaxing on a Sunday afternoon with a cold beer and a football game.  Ha.  I couldn't even type that with a "straight" face.  (insert rim shot here).  Some of my telecast highlights and observations:

• Thank God Brooke Shields is gorgeous.  Though even with her fuck-ups, she's just so darn likeable.
• Frances McDormand in a jean jacket.  Seriously?  Could she also not find a hair brush? 
• I'm happy for Nikki M. James, but she should've thought through that bumbleebee story before getting up there.
• Ellen Barkin is very serious.
• Daniel Radcliffe is adorable and will sell tickets but I still think the number is over-choreographed. 
• I'm stumped by Sister Act.  I haven't seen it yet, but the excerpt shown didn't impress me.  Alot of screaming (i.e. high belting) and unintelligible lyrics to an uninteresting melody.  Maybe it needs to be seen in context.
• Nei Patrick Harris chastising an audience member, "Why are you touching me?" right before a commercial break.  High-larious!
• NPH and Jackman are just delightful together.  But weird (depressing?) how even the spoofs of classic Broadway showtunes are better than most of the original scores honored this season.
• I hate to sound like one of those snotty theatre queens, but Sutton is no LuPone (or Merman, for that matter).  I still love her and someone should write the girl a new show quick.
• What crazy 80's time warp did they pull Martha Walsh out of?  Glad Priscilla got to do a number, but it didn't come off as fun and fabulous as it did in the theatre.  Seemed a bit like just a better-than-average drag show.
• Did anyone not think Book of Mormon was going to sweep?

And of course, NPH's hilarious Tony rap-up courtesy of Lin-Manuel Miranda (In The Heights).

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.

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

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

Kennedy Center honors

I am a blogging fool this week!  Enjoy this literary bounty while you can because soon enough, I'll actually have to work while I'm at the office.  Although it is a pleasure sitting in silence and not having bankers hurl unreasonable requests at you, after about five hours of web-surfing even I begin to suffer net-fatigue.  Still, I'm grateful for this once yearly lull in the usually tumultuous world of investment banking. 

The televised Kennedy Center Honors last night provided a welcome jolt of surprises and what-the-f*ck moments to elevate an otherwise predictable broadcasting week brimming with reruns and Holiday retreads.  Oddly, I think Oprah's segment was the most entertaining and thoughtful of the bunch.  J-Hud kicked some major ass with her rendition of "I'm Here" from The Color Purple. 

And damn, that tape worm - and by tape worm I mean Weight Watchers - is working wonders for her figure. 

The segment honoring Jerry Herman was just plain embarrassing.  Is it any wonder the red state folks cling to the cheesy musical theatre stereotype?  How are we going to get new audiences into the theatre when all they see is over-processed cheese?  I love me some Chita and Carol, but it seems this segment was produced by some big old queen finally working out his Broadway boner on National TV.  Instead of all those performers presenting 10 second snippets of songs that just don't work out of context, why not have 2 or 3 full-song performances?  I'll admit, I'm not the biggest Herman fan, but at least a full song would better illustrate his songwriting craft.  And what was with that male ensemble?  Can you say "over-choreographed?"  It was like they were on crack.  They never stopped moving and the choreography never matched the tone of the songs or acknowledged the lyric.  Sometimes more is just more.  Props to Chita, though, who's still got it at 77.  And Matthew Morrison, please smile!  "It's Today" is supposed to be a joyful and happy celebration of life.  He was more like a Mama Rose telling us to enjoy his number --- or else.

Spider-man and other random crap

The worker's comp claims are piling up over at the Foxwood's theatre.  And I thought WE were pushing the boundary by making our kids do full-out production numbers in 100 degree heat wearing wool costumes in an un-air-conditioned theatre in the summer (try and say that sentence out loud in one breath).*  Damn that Julie Taymor.  She's one-upped as again! 

The latest casualty of Spider-man is Christopher Tierney, an aerialist and actor who reportedly plunged 28 feet after a safety rigging failed (or was improperly hooked up - still under investigation).  Watch the video here.  I don't mean to make light of an obviously horrific accident, but come on already - a broken toe, two broken wrists (on the same actor), a concussion (sidelining the lead actress for two weeks) and now reported broken ribs and internal bleeding?  That has got to be some kind of a record.  This is Broadway, not Olympic bobsledding.  They need to just go back to the drawing board and compose a better score, write a more compelling book and just tell us a good freakin' story. 

All this flying and acrobatics while impressive and fun are merely diamonds on a necklace made of dog shit.  If I want to see ridiculous feats of physical strength and acrobatics strung along by a wisp of a plot and atmospheric music I'll go see a Cirque de Soleil show.  At least the Cirque cast has been training most of their lives to hone their skills.  I'm not sitting in the audience worrying whether someone may plunge to their death.  I'd go further and add that last summer's Cirque offering, Ovo, had a much more effective and theatrical score than Spidey.  That's just sad.

Anyway, enough about Spider-man, we have our very own stage spectacular to worry about, The Very Merry Pineda Holiday Spectacular!  Yes, folks, it's almost time for the third installment of our annual Holiday extravaganza.  Val has been going crazy coordinating rehearsals for over 80 current students, alumni and parents.  It's been a revolving door at the rehearsal hall and between final exams, vacations, all the schools' holiday concerts, and general season busy-ness, we won't even have a final cast count until the night of the performance.  I'm hoping the stage at the CDC can handle all that weight. 

Anyone not familiar with our off-the-wall family variety show is in for a pleasant (?) surprise.  Where else can you see small children singing inappropriate songs, dancing reindeer, Val in a candy cane suit, me in drag and Santa Claus?  Well, that's just business as usual at Pineda Conservatory.  Hopefully, child protective services never gets wind of us.

Speaking of children, what better way to guarantee the holiday "aww" factor than throwing a few rugrats into your act.  Yes, my friends, I've resorted to the highest form of audience manipulation, small children!  Cute little Suzy will deflect any criticism of my flat singing, botched lyrics or cracked high notes.  It's a win - win for all!  Don't judge.

*Below is a video of Peter Carmo and the ensemble in last summer's Meet Me in St. Louis performing "Banjos."  You would never know it was near 100 degrees in the theatre.  They just keep on smiling and strumming in full tuxes and gowns.  Child abuse?  I'd say we're "instilling character."  Potato - Potahto.

My random thoughts on Promises x2

Thursday, September 9
8:00pm performance

• I was frankly a bit bored during act one. The music is kitschy and fun, but that book - Oy vey! Those punch lines might have worked on Laugh-In circa-1968, but seem quaint and even groan-inducing now.
• A show glorifying marital infidelity just doesn’t play quite so hilariously post Tiger Woods, Jon Gosselin, David Letterman, et al. The audience was weirdly silent and seemingly quite uncomfortable during “Where Can You Take A Girl?” - a comic number complaining about the lack of convenient places you can go to screw your mistress.
• “She Likes Basketball” was just a big WTF moment. It was just plain weird and completely unflattering - which took some work given the hotness level of the male ensemble - not to mention it making absolutely no sense in the context of the song. I had the same reaction to the added dancers in “Wanting Things.” Seems like Ashford didn’t know what else to do with the songs so he threw in some dancers so we wouldn’t notice.
• “Turkey Lurkey Time” was a big let down. It’s my favorite number in the show and it just couldn’t live up the freakishly exciting original Bennett staging. 
• Sean Hayes has the weirdest vibrato, but strangely, I ended up liking his singing voice a lot. He also stayed (almost) clear of “Jack-ism’s” in his performance and was totally believable as a straight dude.
• Cheno looked beautiful if a bit gaunt, and although perhaps not the perfect match for the role, sounded fantastic. I’ll give her credit for showing an honest vulnerability in her act two downward spiral that frankly, I didn’t think she could pull off. Her and Hayes definitely have some great stage chemistry and she does a mean fake guitar strum.
• Katie Finneran was hilarious as the drunken slut, but now I want to go back to see her replacement, Molly Shannon do Marge MacDougall a la prepubescent Catholic-school reject Mary Katherine Gallagher.
• The added Bacharach songs, “Say A Little Prayer” and “House is Not a Home,” are fun to hear, but frankly seem shoe-horned in (which they basically are). It’s a total bummer to end the first act with a ballad rather than with Turkey Lurkey.

The new season is almost here!!!

I just spent hundreds of dollars on theatre tickets. You know what that means, kiddies. Fall, my favorite season in NYC, is just around the corner. The theatre and opera are gearing up, Chuck and Fringe are back, the weather is awesome and the underground subway stations no longer smell of pee.

My first must-see of the season isn’t until December, but it’s already the hottest ticket in town. It’s Tony Kushner’s first New York revival of his epic two-part play, Angels in America. Both parts are playing in rep at the tiny Signature theatre (less than 200 seats) and Zachary Quinto (Heroes’ evil Sylar and new Star Trek’s sexy Spock) will be spitting distance from me - so exciting. I literally spent half an hour online trying to get on their website on the first day of ticket sales. I guess the rest of New York had the same idea since the site kept crashing from the web traffic. Thankfully, an extension had been added, because the first three months of the run had already sold out by the time I was able to get through.

I also booked my tickets for the marathon performance of The Gatz at the Public, yet another two-part, seven hour play. What an odd trend. Anyway, the idea intrigued me - a group of people at an office start to read the text of "The Great Gatsby" out loud in real time. I know, it sounds like S&M for English teachers, but it got incredible out of town reviews so I’m going to take my chances.

I also jumped on a recent discount code for The Addams Family. I know, I know - but I love a good train wreck, especially when two bona fide Broadway stars headline. Since I didn’t pay full price, I thought, what the hell.

A few blocks uptown at the Met, I’m set to see Il Trovatore (which I’ve never seen live) with the dreamy cast of Racette, Radvanovsky, Zajick, Alvarez and Hvorostovsky. And for you non-opera fans, that would be akin to seeing Benanti, Baldwin, LuPone, Crawford and Hearn in…well…I guess that would never happen. But you get the idea. I’ll then be back two days later for the Met’s ridiculously huge production of La Boheme for a glimpse of new tenor hottie, Vittoria Grigolo. Between him and James Valenti (above) - yowzah - so much for the fat opera singer stereotype! And I almost forgot about Das Rheingold next Spring. It’s the first of the four Wagner Ring operas in a new production that makes even the most complicated Broadway set look like legos (check out the preview below). The stage had to be reinforced with three 65-foot girders to support the weight of the 45-ton set. It’s opening the Met’s season, but all the fall performances are sold out, so I have to settle for Mach of next year. Sigh.

Other upcoming shows on my radar: Evita (w/ Ricky Martin’s Che), Anything Goes (w/ Sutton Foster’s Reno), A Life in the Theatre (w/ Patrick Stewart and T.R. Knight), Driving Miss Daisy (w/ James Earl Jones and Vanessa Redgrave), Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (w/ LuPone, Stokes Mitchell & Laura Benanti), Elf, How to Succeed ... (w/ Daniel Radcliff) & War Horse (from London’s National Theatre). So many stars - so little time and money!

Happy belated Pride...

Instead of prancing about in daisy dukes and skintight tank, I spent my Pride weekend sweating it out in a theater detail-painting a trolley car. Which, when you think about it, is pretty gay, too. Most of the set for Meet Me In St. Louis, this year’s high school show for our Conservatory kids, is already completed. We’ve decided to try and minimize our late nights at the theater this summer and actually pre-build the set. Thankfully, there’s not much major construction for this one, unlike that behemoth Les Mis barricade. Who’d have thought a pile of junk would be so difficult to construct?

We start rehearsing MMSL today, but sadly, I will not be able to join the cast for today’s 95-degree scorcher in the un-air-conditioned CDC theater. Am I disappointed? As Whitney circa 2000 would mutter while wiping the crack sweat from her brow - hells to the no! Instead, I will be luxuriating in the cool comfort of my 36th floor desk overlooking Times Square. Ah, the corporate life. But come July 12, my fat ass - or as we assistants have affectionately termed it, “banker butt” - will be sweating with the youngsters for three weeks of “Banjo”-ing (perhaps one of the stupidest songs ever written for a musical - up there with the “Garlic” song from Dance of the Vampires).
I mean, it’s not even a real historical dance. And let me tell you, I’ve researched the dances of the period to get some choreographic inspiration and they are not exactly musical theater friendly. The cake-walk? The two-step? They all look rather silly. We’re going to have to push to the more exciting, though historically inaccurate, Jitterbug / Charleston. Oh well, it’s high school summer theater, so I’m not going to kill myself over it. I’m already forced to include a Waltz and a Square Dance. Have you ever tried to teach 14-year-old boys how to Waltz? Not pretty.

Coming up - our second annual July 4th weekend in DC at the lovely Omni Shoreham.  Frozen drinks and fried food poolside, here I come!

Crazy Sh*t on the Tonys OR Who knew Lea Michele was British?

What a crazy, mannered, I’m-going-to-force-this-down-your-throat-whether-you-like-it-or-not rendition of a classic. Yes, girlfriend can belt but she obviously can’t feel a downbeat and only has two volume settings, loud and really loud. And what’s with the British accent? She always sounds fantastic on glee - granted, they auto-tune the sh*t out of everyone and have multiple takes - but she was quite lovely in Spring Awakening only a few years back. What happened? She also exhibited not a bit of charm, humor or charisma needed for the character or song. She made Fanny Brice seem like a total b*tch - “Don’t rain on my parade, God Dammit!” To hear how it should be sung, check out Barbra’s original or Ms. Lillias White’s non-traditional, but a thousand times more moving, rendition from Seth’s Broadway 101:



Some other random Tony observations:

Sean Hayes was charming and funny. He was self-effacing, comfortable and at ease in a live, on camera situation. But some of those presenters, Oy! You’d think theatre actors had absolutely no sense of humor, reading the copy like they were auditioning for King Lear. Lighten up, people. And those play synopses - dear God - they actually made me NOT want to see these plays. Why is everyone so serious? The guys from Next Fall were the only two who seemed to have any idea how to entertain or engage an audience. Too bad their show (which I enjoyed, but didn’t love) wasn’t as good as their Tony schtick.

I’m sorry, but I couldn’t make it through any of Fela!’s numbers. I’m sure they’re much better in context, but I just fast forwarded through them. Yes, I’m a racist.

The sound guy sucked. How many times did I need to see lips moving without sound? I can understand tweaking the levels as you go, but how about “on” and “off” for starters?

Catherine Z-J looked cra-cra during "Send in the Clowns"! I thought her eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. She had the expression of a crack whore desperately in need of a hit. Again, I saw and enjoyed her performance in the theater (what happened since?) but between the crazy-face, back phrasing and inappropriate breathing, it came off like she was singing in a different language that she didn’t completely understand. “Isn’t it … (crickets) … rich. Are we a … (crickets) … pair.” Could you please complete your … wait for it … thought. Without breaking it … wait for it … up? Someone get her to a vocal coach, stat!

Thank God Christiane Noll was on hand to show ‘em how it’s done. Her all too short snippet of “Back to Before” was welcome relief from all the screaming and screeching. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against rock or pop shows, but how come nobody seems to really sing anymore? It seems technique, phrasing and dare I say it, a nice tone, is just not a prerequisite for performers anymore. Sigh…

And until yesterday’s little reminders, I had forgotten that Annie (really?) is going to be revived in 2012 and that Ricky Martin is going to be Che in the upcoming Broadway revival of Evita next year. I’m just not sure if he has the acting chops for this one. Unless, of course, he’ll be performing shirtless. In which case, no one will be paying attention to either his singing or acting. I hope he proves me wrong (but still hoping for the naked concept).

Wedding night jitters...

I can’t believe The Wedding Singer is finally opening tomorrow night after only three months of rehearsal. In case you didn’t get it, that’s sarcasm, folks. Granted, we only rehearse a couple of times a week, but it seemed like a lifetime.

This week was particularly trying as the usual personality flair ups and hidden egos emerged from formerly docile individuals under the stress of the dreaded TECH WEEK. I, myself, am guilty of losing it a couple of times over the past few days, mainly for messy choreography. Unfortunately, my “extremely angry” is other people’s “mildly irritated.” Which I guess is probably slightly confusing for the cast, since I rarely raise my voice unless I’m screaming out counts. The day after my “tantrum,” I had to explain to a couple of cast members that I was, in fact, very angry at a certain individual, even though it seemed like business as usual. Which probably means I’m going to snap one day and murder an entire cast for some trivial mistake - “I said kick on ‘two’ not ‘three.’ Die biyatches!” And curtain.

My other flip out this week was over costume changes. We had a few people complaining about the unreasonable amount of time they had for changes. I don’t know where these people have worked before, but to me, a “quick” costume change is under 20 seconds. Anything over that is basically a spa day. I’m especially unsympathetic when you complain after only trying the change once or twice without giving us the opportunity to work it out. Hello - that’s what tech week is for. It’s especially laughable knowing we had a 15 second full costume change in our last show at CDC. Seth has a fun section about quick changes in his Broadway 101 show - it’s also only 15 seconds and even has a wig change!



I think Trish (our costumer) has finally worked out all the kinks and everyone will get onstage fully clothed. Well, if they’re supposed to be, anyway. Tonight we do our first performance for an invited audience of mainly senior citizens. Scary, I know, considering the show is squarely in PG-13 territory with some questionable sexual content. But, hey, senior citizens deserve a little excitement in their lives as well, right? I feel some walk outs coming.

La Cage…ewww…foul…

Thursday, April 29, 8:00 PM performance

Personal hygiene is not optional if you want to be an active participant in the modern world. How is it that we can govern small countries from our cell phones, but can’t get everyone to use soap? The foul stench emanating from a fellow audience member seriously hampered my enjoyment of the current Broadway revival of La Cage. For most of the second act, I had my jacket pulled up to my nose as a makeshift gas mask. Obviously, I couldn’t quite give my full attention to the action on the stage.

That said, I still wasn’t totally overwhelmed by this British import. My biggest disappointment was the choreography. The production numbers lacked a sense of style and exoticism. I want my drag queens glamorous and fabulous, damn it, and the Cagelles seemed a bit rough and unsophisticated. I guess that might have been a directorial concept, but come on, this is La Cage, I want to see rhinestones, feathered headdresses and high kicks! Enough with these “pared down, gritty” re-thinking of the classics. Producers should just admit they’re cheap and get on with it. And while we’re talking about cheap, the orchestra (and I use the term loosely) sounded like a couple of kazoos and a washboard. Sad, just sad.

Frasier…er…Kelsey Grammer was impressive in his Broadway musical debut. He can carry a tune well enough and is convincing as the butch half of the central couple. The jury’s still out for me on Brit Douglas Hodge’s take on the flamboyant Albin. Although he had some hysterical line readings and has a wonderful gift for physical comedy, his singing voice is almost unbearable. A.J. Shively is a boring Jean-Michel who doesn’t sing or act especially well. His love interest, Anne, was saddled with an ugly Donna Pescow wig a la “Angie.” I kept waiting to see Maureen McGovern’s head poke out past the proscenium and belt out “Let the time flow, let the love grow…” (anyone…anyone? Am I that old?).


I loved Robin DeJesus in In The Heights, but the set’s covered with his bite marks. He hijacks “Anne in My Arms,” upstaging Shively at every turn. Although I’ll bet this blocking is intentional, given Shively lack of voice and charisma. Hopefully, I just saw him on an off night.

Still, the revival had its moments and the chemistry between Grammer and Hodge is always believable. I only wish the production around them reflected the same glamour and finesse. Please, no more Broadway-on-the-cheap.

Before...

After...

Food, glorious food!

I know. It’s nearly May and I’ve not written a single entry for the month of April. What can I say? This old b*tch has been busy shopping for a Hoveround (I’m obsessed with the commercial - from the Esther Williams-esque chairography to company president, Tom Kruze (!). And that theme song - “Go, go, go in your Hoveround” - perfection)!

Yes, I know it’s hard to believe given my incredibly youthful good looks, but your dashing blog hostess turned the big Four-Oh this month. The celebration was uncharacteristically un-theatrical except for the fact that Trish and I celebrated with two of my closest friends, Chris and Jaygee, who happen to be actors (see adorable pics below). It was actually a perfect evening for me since I no longer have the patience or energy to hike it down to Chelsea to ogle the buff eye candy at Splash - just me and a couple of friends hanging out at Studio Square, the “new” beer garden, in LIC. PS, although Studio Square is sleek and modern, the old Beer Garden in Astoria is still my sentimental favorite - boasting more character, better food and none of the young douche-ie types that seem to congregate at the LIC establishment. Not that I’m a size queen, but the Beer Garden’s also got bigger, thicker, juicier brats. In your face, Studio Square.

Speaking of food, how can I not mention the Pineda family’s most recent all-you-can-eat Easter food orgy at the Stone House. Mom and dad were up from Richmond and though technically not immediate family, black Billy and a non-Pineda relative, Merce (a newly arrived San Franciscan joining us just a week after moving to NYC!), joined the festivities. Anyone who can match a Pineda plate-for-plate and cocktail-for-cocktail, I consider family. With a few champagne sangria’s in us, the lips loosened up and we started commenting on a Filipino family sitting at the table next to us. As if on cue, the patriarch at that table got up, approached my dad and asked him if he was from Concepcion (my dad’s hometown in the Philippines). That wouldn’t strike most as unusual, except for the fact that my dad hasn’t been to the Philippines in decades and we were at a random lunch buffet in the middle of Jersey - small world indeed. As for the food, well, what it lacked in culinary excellence it made up for in volume. I mean, how can you complain staring down at a plate of breakfast sausage, spicy tuna sushi, lamb and paella?

To keep on topic, can I just mention my latest NJ food obsession - a cheese steak sandwich with potatoes. It’s thoroughly disgusting, dripping with grease and cheese (or some tasty bright yellow facsimile) and topped with… wait for it… french fries! Why have I not known about this heavenly creation until just recently? The first time Trish and I tried ordering this strange, but glorious creation, we asked for the cheese steak “with the french fries on it.” Our request was met with silence, then confusion and then finally “We don’t have fries... Oh, you mean the cheese steak with potatoes.” Um, duh. I mean, I can understand someone correcting us so that we could order more accurately in the future, but potatoes versus fries? Is there really that big a leap in logic? New Jersey mystery #1 - A restaurant that doesn’t serve french fries as a side dish, yet puts french fries on their sandwiches. Eerie…

JG & me (notice fancy pin from Chris)

Trish hiding, Chris wasted as usual

Blowing out the candles

Music Man like you've never seen before...

This may be the coolest, craziest and gayest thing I've ever seen, but I honestly LOVE it. Be patient and watch it all the way through. Trust me, it's worth it. I honestly couldn't stop smiling. This ain't your grandpa's barbershop (were those barrel turns at 00:40?!?!?! - genius!). I almost teared up with joy at 04:40. What next, a Kanye medley? Spring Awakening? I'm both horrified and excited by the thought of it. I heart barbershop.

Do, Re, Mi and so on...

This is just a fun and silly bit of hmmm...what would you call it? - Performance art, I guess? As dancer's take over a train station in Antwerp. According to one of the comments on Youtube, it was an advertisement for a reality show to choose the next Maria in an upcoming production of The Sound of Music in Belgium. I have to say, this is way more entertaining than the entire season of "Grease! - You're the One That I Want" from a couple seasons back.

My favorite spot is around 2:50 when the entire crowd breaks into the Macarena! Ha - it's like the ultimate bad-in-a-good-way wedding reception. If only people did just break out into song and dance spontaneously, the world would be a happier place.