Since the preview for the Chicago-based play only hints at the subject matter, here's the theatre's online description:
In 1959 Russ and Bev are selling their desirable two-bed at a knock-down price. This enables the first Black family to move into the neighbourhood, creating ripples of discontent amongst the cosy white urbanites of Clybourne Park. In 2009, the same property is being bought by Lindsey and Steve whose plans to raze the house and start again is met with a similar response. Are the issues festering beneath the floorboards actually the same fifty years on?
Bruce Norris’ (The Pain And The Itch) satirical new play explores the fault line between race and property.
Regular readers will know that it was Norris' excellent Purple HeartwithLaurie Metcalfthat forever won me over to the cutting-edge charms of Chicago's Steppenwolf Theatre, which ironically (I'm sure) is just a stone's throw from Clybourne Avenue. Additionally, it was Norris' biting The Pain And The Itch that first exposed me to fierce acting talents offered by Steppenwolf's exceptional ensemble members Tracy Letts, Kate Arrington, Mariann Mayberry and James Vincent Meredith. Tony-winning director Anna D. Shapiro helmed both of those works, as well as the recent Steppenwolf premiere of Norris' very latest, A Parallelogram.
Clybourne Park has already received a flat-out rave from the West End Whingers. I'll be curious to hear from my other friends in London how they received Clybourne Park, which to date, has been mounted at Off-Broadway's Playwrights Horizons, but not yet on Broadway or at Steppenwolf.
In keeping with the new Federal Trade Commission (FTC) regulations that unfairly discriminate against bloggers, who are now required by law to disclose when they have received anything of value they might write about, please note that I have received nothing of value in exchange for this post.
SOB's Theatrical Firsts Of The Noughties: My Steppenwolf Love Affair
Over the course of the last decade, I’ve been truly fortunate to enjoy a never-ending number of enlightening firsts in my personal theatregoing. Each has only served to increase my deep and abiding love for the art form known as live theatre. What follows is one of my ten favorite experiences of the last ten years.
While Time magazine may have dubbed the Noughties as “the decade from hell” with myriad reasons to support that claim, I’ll always remember the last ten years for my introduction to the two great loves of my life.
Aside from The Love Of My Life, who has been my soul mate and partner in crime around the world for the last two-thirds of the decade, my other noteworthy love affair that continues to flourish is with a Chicago-based non-profit that has been providing me with nearly ten years of intellectual stimulation since I first laid eyes on its breathtaking work.
Back in 2001, prior to the horrific attacks of 9/11 that forever altered our outlook on life, I had the opportunity to take in an excellent revival of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest at Broadway’s then Royale Theatre. The Terry Kinney-helmed play had just won the Tony for Best Revival, so I was buzzing with anticipation. As only a budding theatre aficionado at that time, I was still unfamiliar with Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre or its stellar reputation. But as the curtain fell on that show, I was already blown away by the likes of Steppenwolf co-founder Gary Sinise as Randle P. McMurphy and ensemble member Amy Morton as the notorious Nurse Ratched. With an indelible impression made, I wanted to know more about this theatre company. Steppenwolf was forever on my personal radar.
Fast forward to the summer of 2002 when one of my close friends from Australia was visiting the United States. Paul Battye had a very limited itinerary, but one of the places on it was Chicago. Since I had pledged I’d meet up with him somewhere during the course of his trip, I decided that I’d make my way to the Windy City. Once there, I learned that near the top of his to-do list was taking in a production at Steppenwolf. While our other local friends passed on the opportunity, I said I was in.
He told me that the production currently playing was something called Purple Heart. To be honest, I could have cared less what it was since I was excited I’d have a chance to see a Steppenwolf production on its own home turf. Little did I know that my captivation from seeing Bruce Norris’ compelling play starring Christopher Evan Welch, Rosemary Prinz and Laurie Metcalf would make a devoted personal involvement with Steppenwolf inevitable.
Less than three years later, I took a position with a major PR firm in Chicago, of all places (where, among other things, I learned about the increasingly vital role that blogging would play in mass media and a burgeoning social networking). Because another friend of mine was already involved in Steppenwolf’s Auxiliary Council’s Board of Governors and recognized my deep-seated love for live theatre as well as my enormous respect for this Chicago institution, he asked if I had any interest in joining that group. I didn’t even hesitate in saying “yes.”
By the time I left Chicago barely a year later for other professional opportunities, I had become deeply immersed in the Steppenwolf culture. Talk about a tight knit organization. I had seen almost every show their three stages offered, and I had become acquainted with so many exceptional people behind the scenes that I simply could not let go. Icing on the cake was having one opportunity after another in meeting many of the exceptional array of ensemble actors.
Because moving away from Chicago presented its own challenges in my ability in providing a minimum level of commitment I believed necessary toward contributing as a solid member of the Board of Governors, I ultimately resigned from the body sometime in 2006, but pledged my support via the next best means: financially. I am proud to say I’m a member of Steppenwolf’s Director’s Circle of donors. I believe so wholeheartedly in this extraordinary theatre company that I am pleased to lend it my financial support.
One of the benefits of being a Director’s Circle donor is that I regularly attend nearly all of the opening nights of Steppenwolf’s seasons. While I can’t say that I’ve seen each and every production with the same level of enjoyment, I profess that each has challenged me in profound ways I could never have anticipated.
Despite my ongoing support, I have not shied away from telling you how I really feel about productions I have reviewed in this space. However, it probably goes without saying that the majority of Steppenwolf’s productions have made me enormously proud to be counted as one of its supporters -- otherwise, why would I continue to support it?
Certainly the best of those productions I’ve seen is a little Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning play you may have heard of: August: Osage County. Due to an unfortunate scheduling conflict, I was unable to get back to Chicago for its opening night, but when I hit the Windy City just a couple weeks later and took in the production, I was simply blown away by its depth and breadth.
All my pride in Steppenwolf came gushing out in ways it never had before. I suddenly found myself championing a Broadway transfer for Tracy Letts’ superb work. I even mentioned in my SOB Review that this play deserved Pulitzer Prize buzz.
While I wasn’t able to get to the delayed August: Osage County’s opening night on Broadway due to major upheavals in my professional life (which ultimately worked out for the best), I did manage to see the show threetimes on the Great White Way. I also had the rare opportunity to personally cheer it on in live at the 2008 Tony Awards and afterwards at the show’s very own Tony party, and even finally saw an opening night when most of the original cast transferred to London’s National Theatre a year ago last Thanksgiving.
Now, I’ve begun contemplating a journey Down Under for this play’s mounting at the Sydney Theatre Company with many of its original cast, but in the meantime, I can’t wait to see it again next spring as it tours the United States.
As for Steppenwolf itself, it’s been an honor and quite a thrill to continue supporting this vital organization and take in each new play that opens there. But to bring this post full circle, I have to thank Steppenwolf’s Director of Development Sandy Karuschak. You see, I recently regaled her on how it was love at first sight with Steppenwolf by taking in One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest. And you know what? Barely a week later, she graciously sent me an exquisite poster from the show autographed by the entire cast – a keepsake of my ongoing love affair that I’ll forever treasure.
So, I'll close out this first post of my decade's worth of personal firsts by saying, if you’ve never been to Steppenwolf in Chicago, you haven’t seen live theatre.
This is Steve On Broadway (SOB).
In keeping with the new Federal Trade Commission (FTC) regulations that unfairly discriminate against bloggers, who are now required by law to disclose when they have received anything of value they might write about, please note that I have received nothing of value in exchange for this post. I more than paid my own way for each of the performances outlined, although as noted above, the theatre was kind enough to recognize my love for it by sending me a poster. Eat your heart out, FTC.
Brighton Beach Memoirs (The SOB Review) - Nederlander Theatre, New York, New York
**** (out of ****)
Prepare to be astonished.
Back in the eighties when I was just beginning to enjoy Neil Simon's seminal comedies on film, the Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright was already reinventing himself on the Great White Way with heartfelt plays that have consistently been ranked among the very best in his entire oeuvre.
So a generation later, I've finally started catching up on those works. And are they ever mighty.
Three years ago, I caught a tremendous production of his 1991 hit Lost In Yonkersthat was found in Minneapolis. It demonstrated Simon's introspective genius. Despite being a nod to his own youth, the play was so vital, real and relevant.
But not even that mounting could have prepared me for the earnest and devastating charms found in Simon's superb Brighton Beach Memoirs. The play is so well-written, it's no wonder it ran on Broadway for a solid three years. Set in the 1930s, this semi-autobiographical period piece is currently receiving an excellent revival, flawlessly executed by director David Cromer.
Through Brighton Beach Memoirs, Cromer further cements his reputation, burnishing his credentials as a brilliant, visionary master at breathing vigorous new life into classic material. But unlike his mind-blowing, stripped-down revival of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town -- still playing New York's Barrow Street Theatre -- the director stages Brighton Beach Memoirs with all the bells and whistles you'd expect from a Broadway show, which is Cromer's first.
John Lee Beatty's design of the Jerome Family home is evocative of the type of Depression-era residence where you'd expect to find an extended family forced to live together out of sheer necessity. And those bells and whistles, and other sound effects? Well, they're compliments of Joshua Schmidt and Fitz Patton (the former wrote the score to the revered musical Adding Machine, which was also helmed by Cromer).
An exuberant Noah Robbins makes his impressive Broadway debut as Eugene Jerome, Simon's young alter-ego. His dream may be to become a great baseball player, but by living in a cramped Brooklyn household his parents have opened to his widowed aunt and her two daughters, Eugene discovers that he not only possesses the ability to discern major milestones under that roof, but also has a knack for writing about them, too.
With winsome appeal, Robbins captivates and enthralls, whether serving as de facto narrator or when engaging in often spirited dialogue with the revival's fine ensemble that includes the extraordinary Laurie Metcalf (as his mother Kate), the magnificent Dennis Boutsikaris (as his father Jack) and the sublime Santino Fontana (as his brother Stanley), along with Jessica Hecht (as his Aunt Blanche) and Alexandra Socha and Gracie Bea Lawrence (as his cousins Nora and Laurie, respectively). Make no mistake, this show has been perfectly cast throughout. There's not one false note to be found.
As outstanding as Cromer's ensemble is, Laurie Metcalf is an unmitigated and complete triumph as Kate. Without ever overshadowing the rest of the cast, Metcalf delivers one of the year's most withering, nuanced performances. Her omniscient Kate may have eyes in the back of her head, as the young Eugene knows all too well when sneaking a cookie, but it's the subtlety within Metcalf's eyes and facial expressions that lend sumptuous layer after layer to the enormous depth of her portrayal. Simply put, Metcalf is amazing.
No wonder this Brighton Beach Memoirs left me utterly gobsmacked and misty-eyed. Cromer and his cast have delivered yet another outstanding revival that is unmistakably unmissable and will have you yearning for more.
UPDATE - 10.31.2009: Brighton Beach Memoirs will close just one week after opening due to weak box office demand, thus scuttling the planned revival of Broadway Bound. This is Steve On Broadway (SOB).
UPDATE - 10.31.2009: Brighton Beach Memoirs will close just one week after opening due to weak box office demand, thus scuttling the planned revival of Broadway Bound.
In my earlier post, I mentioned the two things that truly intrigue me about the revival. One is that it's being helmed by Chicago's visionary director David Cromer. The other is that Cromer will soon be staging it in repertory with his revival of Broadway Bound.
As I noted, both works are part of what's been dubbed the "Eugene Trilogy" since they, along with the jettisoned Biloxi Blues, revolve around Simon's young alter-ego Eugene Jerome.
Laurie Metcalf and Dennis Boutsikaris headline each as Kate and Jack Jerome, respectively. Santino Fontana will tackle Stanley Jerome in both, and Jessica Hecht plays Blanche in each. While Noah Robbins is portraying Eugene in Brighton Beach Memoirs, Theatre World Award winner Josh Grisetti assumes the Eugene mantle in Broadway Bound, a play set 12 years beyond the first.
When originally produced on the Great White Way, each of the three plays comprising Simon's cycle came in relatively short order. Brighton Beach Memoirs debuted on Broadway in 1983, Biloxi Blues followed in 1985, and Broadway Boundrealizedexactly that when it opened at the Broadhurst Theatre on December 4, 1986. All were directed by Gene Saks.
However, unlike the new Simon Plays in which Metcalfe, Boutsikaris, Fontana and Hecht portray the same chacters in both shows, the cast of the original Broadway Bound was different from Brighton Beach Memoirs. Cast in the Broadway Bound roles first seen Brighton Beach Memoirs were Linda Lavin as Kate, Philip Sterling as Jack, Jason Alexander as Stanley, Phyllis Newman as Blanche and a young Jonathan Silverman as Eugene. John Randolph and Philip Sterling were also in the cast.
Not only was Broadway Bound nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, it also earned Simon a Tony nomination. Lavin and Randolph would each win Tony Awards for their performances, while Newman, in her last Broadway role to date, would earn a Tony nod. The show finally closed in September 1988 after 756 performances.
As I mentioned yesterday, the only real reported news I've heard for the Simon Plays has been relegated to behind-the-scenes strife. Fortunately, I've already heard great buzz about the first installment that began previews earlier this month.
Audiences will have their first opportunity to see previews of Broadway Bound beginning November 18; the show will open December 10 -- a month and a half after Brighton Beach Memoirs opens October 25. The two shows begin playing in rep just in time for Thanksgiving.
UPDATE - 10.31.2009: Brighton Beach Memoirs will close just one week after opening due to weak box office demand, thus scuttling the planned revival of Broadway Bound.
The Gene Saks-helmed production not only enjoyed a whopping 1,299 performances over a three year-two month period -- pretty remarkable for a straight play -- it also helped launch the career of a young actor named Matthew Broderick.
Broderick would go on to earn his first Tony Award portraying Eugene Jerome. He'd revisit the role via Simon's second portion of his "Eugene Trilogy," Biloxi Blues, which enjoyed a successful concurrent run with Brighton Beach Memoirs from 1985-86. (Alas, Jonathan Silverman would play Eugene in Broadway Bound,the third play in the cycle that ran for nearly two years starting in 1986.)
Broderick was joined in Brighton Beach Memoirs by Elizabeth Franz as his mother Kate, Peter Michael Goetz as his father Jack and Željko Ivanek as his brother Stanley, along with Mandy Ingber, Jodi Thelen and Joyce Van Patten. In addition to Broderick's Tony, Zaks would score one for his direction, while Franz and Ivanek would each receive nominations for their turns.
Now, over a quarter century after the show's Broadway debut comes its hotly anticipated first revival. What makes the revival intriguing is that it's being directed by the super-hot visionary David Cromer, who breathed incredible new life into Our Town. Cromer is adding to the intrigue by ultimately playing Brighton Beach Memoirs in repertory with a revival of Broadway Bound. (Sorry, Biloxi Blues fans -- the middle portion of the trilogy is not included.)
Laurie Metcalf and Dennis Boutsikaris will star in each as Kate and Jack, respectively. Santino Fontana will tackle Stanley Jerome in both, and Jessica Hecht will also be in both installments as Blanche. Noah Robbins is set to make his Broadway debut in Brighton Beach Memoirs as Eugene, Neil Simon's alter ego. The young actor graduated earlier this year from Washington's Georgetown Day School. (In Broadway Bound, Theatre World Award winner Josh Grisetti assumes the role of the older Eugene. More on that portion of the overarching production to come.)
Will Brighton Beach Memoirs create the same lasting memories as the first? While its only real reported buzz has been relegated to behind-the-scenes strife, I'm hearing from my trusted insiders who have already seen early previews that it's a wonderfully solid production.
This first of two Simon Plays opens October 25. I'll offer my SOB Review shortly thereafter.
According to Playbill, David Mamet's election year comedy November will close on July 13 after playing 205 performances.
For well over a month, the production has been advertising "final weeks" to catch its president, played by Nathan Lane, and despite the lone Tony nomination for the excellent Laurie Metcalf, the rest of the mounting was shut out of consideration.
Directed by Joe Mantello, November wasn't half bad in my humble estimation. In fact, it had some very funny moments. As I said earlier, "While not a perfect send-up of politics, November certainly strikes a chord with those weary with the current state of the union, making me glad I elected to see it."
In his incredibly prescient and exceedingly smart screenplay for “Wag The Dog,” Mamet demonstrated his uncanny ability to perfectly nail some of the worst of Washington, and I mean that in the most reverential respect.
But as he’s shown more recently through his work in latter day plays like Romance, he’s placed his skewering, scalding humor in more of a Norman Learesque vein with characters not unlike the "classic" bigot Archie Bunker, who goes on one visceral, politically incorrect tirade after another.
Like Lear, Mamet seems to relish creating loathsome characters who happen to vomit all the worst and most disgusting, if not so puerile, diatribes that no regular, likeable protagonist would ever be caught spewing. Not unlike Lear’s Archie Bunker -- who essentially had free reign to attack virtually any ethnic group, religion or sexual orientation that deviated from his narrowly drawn comfort level -- Mamet empowers his unsavory characters by giving a caustic voice to the ignoble ignoramuses in all of us.
Think of it as “Out of the mouths of bubbas, babes and boobs…” exposing an ugly underbelly of America we'd prefer to think doesn't exist, including within ourselves, including all of our collective prejudices. We may choose to believe we don't have them, but Mamet reminds us they're there.
While that touch largely failed in Romance, it tends to succeed in November, a screwball Oval Office comedy about quite possibly the worst president ever. And that it succeeds is both good and bad. That we laugh at all is unsettling. But the fact is, as preposterous as his premises are, they often offer something worth busting a gut over.
Many in the audience would be completely forgiven for seeing a lampoon of the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue -- even though Mamet insists any resemblance between George W. Bush and his President Charles Smith (Nathan Lane, at once robust and visceral) is purely coincidental -- but the contemptible temerity exhibited by the corrupt Smith is closer in approximation to the complete sellout that Warren G. Harding was.
And faster than you can say Teapot Dome, Smith is all too willing to threaten, cajole and extort, all in the name of preserving his legacy. You see, the first-term Smith, with poll numbers "lower than Gandhi's cholesterol" is on the eve of Election Day, with virtually no chance of earning a second term.
The boisterous Lane delivers a take-no-prisoners tour de force portrayal as a president who's quick to lob f-bombs just as casually and readily as real ones, ironically with the threats of tortuous incarceration aimed at his enemy at any given moment as he is all too willing to give them a one-way ticket to permanent obscurity onboard his "piggy plane" to Bulgaria.
As Lane headlines as the hapless conservative Commandeer (if not Condemner)-in Chief, November ultimately succeeds due chiefly -- pun intended -- to the exceptional performances offered by its enterprising ensemble, with Dylan Baker as Chief of Staff Archer Brown, Laurie Metcalf as chief presidential speechwriter/lesbian Clarice Bernstein, Michael Nichols as Native American chief Dwight Grackle and Ethan Phillips as a chief campaign donor representing the American turkey producers.
While it defies reasonable explanation why Clarice would stick by this president when he deplores her sexual orientation, Metcalf offers perhaps one of the more nuanced female performance ever in a Mamet play. So effective is her ability to wring out the maximum from every line for ultimate impact that I swear I caught whatever was ailing Clarice, freshly back in the White House from China after adopting a baby with her partner.
Baker, who's thankfully back on the Broadway stage with gusto this year -- first as Mauritius' smug philately expert, and now as the smarmy Archer -- effortlessly lands each excoriating put-upon zinger with more precision than the poison dart shot by Grackle at President Smith.
Blessedly, director Joe Mantello seems to have found his farcical footing after stumbling with his last Broadway outing, but Scott Pask's glorious re-creation of the Oval Office certainly helps to set scene from the moment the curtain rises.
While not a perfect send-up of politics, November certainly strikes a chord with those weary with the current state of the union, making me glad I elected to see it.
Offering that "Mamet here is better than ever," Bloomberg's John Simon voted early and often for the show: "A comedy and its production score a joint bull's-eye, and for a couple of hours on Broadway, all is well with the world. Nathan Lane, a great comic actor, gets the part he needed to prove himself the greatest....Lane is a one-man laugh riot as he tries to wangle or bribe, bully or blackmail his way into re-election....Joe Mantello, the director, emerges yet again as equal master of pinpoint detail and overarching orchestration."
Concluding that it's "empty-headed political fun," Clive Barnes of New York Post offers two and a half stars: "With a masterly sleight of hand, Nathan Lane turns slightness into giddy fun in November, David Mamet's impeccably politically incorrect tale of a US president in pollster hell. Not that all the credit belongs to Broadway's current maestro of the aggressive put-down and the aggrieved double-take. Much the same virtuosity is shown by a suavely buttoned-down Dylan Baker and a hysterically buttoned-up Laurie Metcalf, all three directed with metronomic brilliance by Joe Mantello."
Proclaiming November a "manically funny new comedy," the Associated Press' Michael Kuchwara offers his "yes" vote: "Lane is anything but bland as he ricochets around the room, spewing obscenities, mostly of the f-word variety....the cleverly jumbled plot ... demands comic actors at the top of their form. The cast, which also includes Laurie Metcalf and Dylan Baker, deftly navigates its way through the thicket of laughs, nailing every one."
Labeling it "sneaky and scabrously funny," Eric Grode of The New York Sun is mostly positive: "As the Gandhi joke ... demonstrates, the plotting often gives way to a Borscht Belt style that comes a bit too easily to the author. But if anyone on Broadway can pull off this sort of material, it's Mr. Lane. Dangling offers and hurling threats like a Tammany Hall alderman, Smith stands to leave the Oval Office (replicated with witty fidelity by set designer Scott Pask) with either his head held high or his pockets full. Mr. Lane's patented blend of lovable loutishness keeps the audience guessing -- and laughing, as he dispenses profane nuggets of Mametian wisdom with pedantic cluelessness."
Characterizing Mamet's latest as a "glib and jaunty new play," The New York Times' Ben Brantley votes no: "Despite the thick swarm of obscenities that are de rigueur in a Mamet play, there’s nothing remotely shocking about November. If the play had been acted in the old Mamet tradition of louts stewing broodingly in homicidal rage and exasperation, it would probably be more unsettling when the president disgorges racist, sexist and xenophobic diatribes....November is a David Mamet play for people who don’t like David Mamet. Being a long-time Mamet devotee, I cannot say I see this as a cause for rejoicing. Finding the singular Mamet voice (I mean, other than in its '#@$+*!' verbal punctuation) requires hard listening."
Noting how "it has no sense of proportion or plausibility," Joe Dziamianowicz of New York's Daily News offers thumbs down: "In the past Mamet's work has been incisive, powerful and realistic. Here he goes for an easy, well-worn target and obvious setup: America's highest office is held by a low-life thug (Smith's political party isn't identified). It's so broad that November is a satire with a big mouth but no bite. There's plenty of bark though. Lane revels in his freewheeling performance, launching one-liners -- some very funny -- and endless expletives. Unlike in his dramas, Mamet's streaming profanity here seems like self-parody or ugly wallpaper -- it just hangs there, demanding attention."
Proffering that Mamet "takes the lazy way out with the election-year sitcom," Newsday's Linda Winer casts a negative ballot: "Instead of wit and fury, we get gags and grimaces. Instead of humor so daring that critics have been known to bite their own lips to maintain decorum, the comedy is so eager-to-please that we strain to hear Mamet's voice beyond the punch lines....[t]here is scant resemblance to real-world satire....Mantello appears unwilling or unable to find the seriously wonderful actor who existed before Lane froze his distinctive trumpet voice and flipper eyebrows in monster comedies. When Mamet's sly street-poet humor meets the hard sell, the language grates."
So there you have it folks, a split vote. I'll be offering my own SOB Review once I see the show right in the middle of primary season.
But I have to tell you, if the jokes at the top of the show's Web site are any indication, the play could be as lame as the fake duck in the White House portrayed by Nathan Lane. There's one turkey after another. Who wrote that?
Having spent my first four years out of college working on Capitol Hill, I have an interest in just about any depiction of politics in popular culture. In all too many cases, I'm amused by the complete naïveté demonstrated by most writers.
But since I have enjoyed other Mamet works, I'll be reserving judgment until I see it in the weeks to come. However, I'll be sharing my critics' capsule tomorrow.
Most audiences know Metcalf for her broad-humored television work as Roseanne Barr's policewoman sister Jackie on "Roseanne," as well as for her portrayal of Carolyn Bigsby on "Desperate Housewives." Yet, Metcalf first cut her teeth treading the boards.
While November will unbelievably mark just her second Broadway outing -- the first came in the short-lived 1995 production of Alexandra Gersten's My Thing Of Love -- the riveting actress has been a member of Chicago's Steppenwolf ensemble since 1976. In fact, it was in Steppenwolf's 2001 chilling production of Purple Heartthat I finally had an opportunity to see this versatile actress' full dynamic range. She's a major force. Not only was I utterly mesmerized by her excellent performance, but I became a believer in the magic of Steppenwolf itself. (Incidentally, My Thing Of Love was produced by Steppenwolf.)
In November -- a play about what befalls an incumbent American president in the days leading up to the election -- Metcalf is slated to portray a presidential aide. With Joe Mantello providing direction to this work, I had already added this play to my "must see" list, but Metcalf's addition could very well have me voting early and often for this show.
Rain: A Tribute To The Beatles Limited run extended through May 31, 2011 (Show will go on hiatus starting January 15 and reopen at Brooks Atkinson Theatre on February 8)
Rock Of Ages - Open-ended run (Show will go on hiatus starting January 9 and reopen at Helen Hayes Theatre in March)
As someone who has been involved in both politics and public relations, it's no wonder I love watching theatre. Good or bad, it's the raw energy of seeing a live performance that gets my adrenaline pumping. From the moment I saw my very first Broadway show ("Annie" in London in 1979), I was hooked. Now I see as many as 70 shows each year ranging from soaring musicals to two-hander plays. And these eyes just may be in an audience near you!
