Turn Back, and “Oh Man!”

Visiting home always seems to be a sad reminder of the life I could have settled for—not because I regret not staying, but because what I could have had becomes so real to me.

For instance, I drive into Knoxville and I pass a familiar apartment complex, and like a flash there he is—the boy I would have had. And he stands in the foggy remnants of the place I would have lived, the routine I would have fallen into, the job I would have convinced myself was superior, and the life I could already be deeply invested in.

Did I want this boy? Did I want this place? Did I want this life? No; they were the best this town had to offer me, which is why I left. And I’m still young enough that I can say without delusion that I have no regrets. Still, striving for something more is in fact the harder row to hoe (to use a Southernism), and while there isn’t regret, there is a tinge sometimes when I am reminded that because I am holding out for better, there are things I do not have. And this reality is never more present than in old stomping grounds, where we are literally confronted with the opportunities we passed by.

Maybe this is because my stepfather has told me yet again that I am wasting my life and making myself an emotional burden on my mother and him by not getting a real job. Maybe it’s because when you push yourself, you inevitably have to stop and rest and reflect. Or maybe it’s just human to always wonder about the lives we didn’t choose while we’re wading through the one we did.

Either way, life is like acting, you have to make the choice and commit. So despite lingering reflections of downstream in the water’s surface, I slosh forward against the current toward my future. And roll up your pant legs, honey, manpris are in style right now!

Next to Normal Falls Next to Good

I went into Next to Normal with the highest of expectations-everyone I knew had seen, had loved it, and was listening to the soundtrack none-stop. "This is THE musical," I thought, "this is THE musical right now." How very exciting to fit THE musical into my schedule!

How disappointing to find it falling flat.

There are moments in Next to Normal that are stupendous. The idea of Next to Normal is ingenuous, and from the gut-wrenching birthday twist around Song 4 I knew this story--this concept--would go far. I do not think it did.

I'm going to go against popular opinion now and say that I didn't think anyone in the cast was exceptional. Alice Ripley is compelling. The son has a lovely voice. The boyfriend is charming. The father…well, moving on. They're good. They are broadway-caliber performers (though maybe not singers). They are not, however, extraordinary. 

Beyond all of that, though, is the most glaring problem in the show-the music. Everyone loves the music, but it doesn't seem to further the story. Why is Next to Normal a rock opera? I'm not even sure why it is a musical. The songs are getting in the way of the plot, of the story, of the show.

Next to Normal doesn't move. Despite weeks and weeks of time lapse for the characters, the show is stationary. It's a lot of sitting and singing--a lot of "this is what I think and this is how I feel!" numbers, but those numbers do not take us anywhere. There are few to no plot-driven songs. The show is bogged down in its own emo quagmire, adding unnecessary length to the performance and hindering what could have been a much better piece.

In the same way, the characters are not deeply explored, especially considering it's a psycho-analysis show. Every character has his or her one conflict, his or her one problem, his or her one identifier that drives him forward through the show. Usually it's enough to give them an arch, but it isn't enough to make them feel full or well-rounded. And aside from Alice Ripley's role, most of the character's struggle with trite, go-to dilemmas. To use seventh-grade lit terms, while the characters are generally dynamic, they are also flat.

To be clear, I do not think this piece is awful. If I saw this in a development setting, I would think, "wow, this is really going to go somewhere spectacular." At the root of Next to Normal is the germ of a stellar musical. The song I Miss the Mountains is a poignant and evocative metaphor. The central conflict for the mother (Alice Ripley) is perfect, fascinating, and unique. But as it stands, the show does not live up to its potential. It is disappointing. 

The Chenoweth Sings

I recently went to a Kristin Chenoweth Gala Concert at City Center, and it was wonderful and moving and she was hilarious and brilliant, but it got me to thinking about all the songs she does so well that she included, and all the songs she does so well that I still need to see live. So I thought I would share my opinions.

Kristin Chenoweth's very best song in the entire world: Glitter and Be Gay (She does it better than anyone. She's brilliant. It's Her Song.)

Signature Songs She Must Sing: 
Popular
My New Philosophy
The Girl in 14G
Taylor the Latte Boy
Til There Was You
If You Hadn't But You Did

My Favorite Songs She Must Sing: 
(Obviously this includes the above, particularly Glitter and Be Gay)
ReWriting History
Dream a Little Dream of Me
What'll I Do?
How Long Has This Been Going On?
Gorgeous
Lion Tamer
Goin to the Dance with You
Home on Christmas
Poor, Wayfaring Stranger
Abide in Me
The Christmas Waltz
This Moment
Word of God Speak
There Will Never Be Another
I've Got What You Want

To distill further, my ultimate Chen-Chen concert would be, in sequence:

What'll I Do?
How Long Has This Been Going On?
Goin' to the Dance with You
Til There Was You
Dream a Little Dream of Me (as a medley/combo with the preceding?)
Gorgeous
Lion Tamer
ReWriting History
Home on Christmas
I've Got What You Want
Glitter and Be Gay

Encore: Taylor the Latte Boy

Second Encore: My New Philosophy/ Popular combo

9 to Fun

Saw 9 to 5 two days before Opening Night and I liked it. I liked it a lot.

As a critical virgo, I of course instantly observed that the piece was over-choreographed, but in a way that got better as the show progressed. Also, some of the music is a little weak, but Dolly Parton writes Bluegrass/ Country solos and duets, so what else would we expect from her? Otherwise I thought it was a big ball of fun, and the performances were fantastic!

To begin with, Allison Janney manages to pull herself out of Lily Tomlin's shadow and play the character with style, humor, and individual flair without being untrue to the part. Stephanie Block may have done even better and one-upped Jane Fonda's origination, plus her voice is the best shown off by far. Then there's Megan Hilty, who is funny and endearing and fabulous as Dora Lee, but there is a hiccup in the translation, because what she is really playing is Dolly Parton as Dora Lee, not a new interpretation. And aside from the fact that no one else is doing an homage to the originals, it's less engaging to watch. The jokes are all Dolly's, the accent is Dolly's (East Tennessee, even though the character is from Texas…Dolly can do that, Megan Hilty can't), but it's not Dolly, and not even veteran drag queens can quite pull off the Parton like her one and only, the Backwoods Barbie herself. 

Which brings me to my only real qualm with the show: the insertion of Backwoods Barbie into the score. Using 9 to 5 as a musical motif is not only expected and demanded, it's lovely and clever in its application, but having Megan Hillty sing "Backwoods Barbie" as a soliloquy song is not only off-putting and slightly out of alignment with the rest of the composition, it's also not fooling anyone. The album may not have been popular, but that was the title song, so, Dolly, we know you already wrote it for another vehicle and then shoved it into this one, and we're not buying it. Not this time. We expect Dolly Parton to write her own musical, not to writer her own juke box musical. 

But that's minor; it's one song. Otherwise, the show is hugely fun, hilarious, and a great adaptation of stage to screen, changing just enough and keeping just enough. (Of course, the screenwriter did come back for the book, so we should expect good things on that front.) The main girls are gems and the supporting cast features phenomenal character performances and high-caliber Broadway chorines doing what they do best. It tickles you, flashes in your face, makes you cry, and makes you swell with joy. It's what a Big Broadway musical should be. Is it art? Of course not, it's 9 to 5, and you're gonna love it!

Things I've learned in the city

If you're wondering what that smell is on the subway, a homeless man is about to ask for money. And ask God to bless you when you give him nothing.

If you think that's vomit on the sidewalk, it is.

Don't text and walk. You step in tourists and dog poo.

If someone tries to stop you as you're passing on the street, don't. It's either a conman or a tourist. If someone asks, "can I ask you something?" on the street, walk faster. It's definitely a tourist.

When you see a rat kind in the subway, it means the train isn't coming anytime soon.

If someone smells in the winter, he's homeless. If someone smells in the summer, he's a hipster.

You can always judge a book by it's cover, and you'll wish you had if you ignore your instinct to avoid eye contact.

Whenever someone knows a great place just over that way, it's going to be lame, and you're going to walk at least eleven blocks to get there. At least.

My idea of cheap is not your idea of cheap is not his idea of cheap is not her idea of cheap is not someone else's idea of cheap.

The elderly are just as vicious as everyone else, we just underestimate them.

Visa is actually a glamour foundation giving grants to aspiring "istas" of all kinds.

Starbucks are public toilets, in more ways than one.

Everyone knows three neighborhoods like their hometowns and nowhere else in the city. 

Everyone "j'dore"s the museums, but no one goes.

Everyone is on their way, but no one's there yet.

And most importantly: 2 am + 5 cocktails + Bushwick = TAXI!

That's just a little something from a new book I'm working on...

My First Dream Cast: Urinetown

Here is my first dreamcast. This is a la a Roundabout fundraiser reading:

Urinetown

Bobby Strong:                 Cheyenne Jackson

Hope:                                Kristin Chenoweth

Ms. Pennywise:              Patti LuPone

Officer Lockstock:         Will Ferrel (who suddenly does Broadway)

Little Sally:                     Kerry Butler

Mr. Cladwell:                  Nathan Lane

Oh, we got trouble...

September 2009

The real trouble with theatre today is not what's happening on the stage, it's what's going down in the audience. Theatre isn't developing into some disney-fied, hot commercial mess so mich as the stage is devolving to meet the needs of its patrons. Middle America has been deep fried and made lazy and it's catching up to our culture. Soon there will be little difference between the American Airlines Theatre and the Regal next door, both covered in Times Square neon on the outside and devoid of content on the inside, just the way Americans like it.

Case in point: I treated myself to a Pulitzer-Prize Winning play this weekend, and just as it was about to start six people arrived slurping sodas and unwrapping their Twizzlers. I suddenly wondered if I'd wandered into Finding Nemo. I kept waiting for someone to pull out Nachos. 

And this is only the beginning. Immediately after the rustling-wrapper gang settled in, the house lights went down and the show began, or I assume it did. It was hard to tell; the ushers flashlights were brighter than the fresnels as party after party of late-comers husseled to their seats. Because it's so very difficult to arrive on time for the theatre. After all, surely the 700 other audience members and star actors will wait until you manage to show up. 

Here's a thought: Get to the theatre on time. Eat your candy in the lobby. Make those people wait outside to slurp and much and fumble instead of letting their mayhem into the audience. 

Of course, there have been many periods in our cultural history when the drama was a secondary element at the theatre, and people still go to performances for the social element, but it is still polite to at least sit down, shut up, and pretend to pay attention for appearances sake. Can't we hide our ignorance?

It's been said by a thousand harping, bi-polar thespians before, and it will be again, but actors are working on stage. And furthermore, designers, directors, and various assundry artists worked to create a look, an environment, and even an experience. Try not to be too obtuse and stuffed with licorice to appreciate that.

So my point is that we're all assholes, including self-important divas with blogs, but more importantly, if you think your theatre should come with refreshments like a romantic comedy at the multi-plex, then go see the Little Mermaid. Let's keep the mayhem centralized.