I first published the following post on December 13, 2010, as one of my most prominent memories of the previous decade. As today marks the ninth anniversary of the horrific attacks of September 11, 2001, let us never forget neither that dark day nor those whose lives were lost.
Not long after the attacks, Nathan Lane and a troupe of Broadway stars used the classic Kander and Ebb tune to implore the rest of a nervous nation to "Come to New York and let's go on with the show!"
No recollection of the past ten years in theatre could be complete without remembering the horrific events of 9/11.
While I’ll leave it to others to thoroughly discuss what transpired that day, I was struck by how quickly the Broadway community rallied together to truly go on with the show. In the aftermath of 9/11, I was also struck by Mayor Rudy Guliani's message to the rest of the world: “Come to New York and stay in a hotel, do some shopping and see a show.”
I made my pilgrimage to the city in early October. While there were countless reminders of 9/11 to be seen everywhere, particularly through the extensive array of ubiquitous volunteer workers, the city seemed kinder and gentler than I had ever remembered it being. I never felt more welcome as a guest as I did on that visit.
True to the mayor’s prescribed list, I checked into a midtown hotel, did the requisite shopping and made sure I bought tickets to not one, but two Broadway shows. First up was the Tony-winning revival of a quintessential New York classic 42nd Street starring Christine Ebersole.
I loved them both, but what I especially loved was the esprit de corps I felt with my fellow audience members. It was as if we really were in this together.
While our attendance was a mere pittance compared to the selfless efforts of those toiling around the clock at the southern end of Manhattan, there was a shared sense that we were at least doing something in providing a tiny economic shot in the arm to this recovering city. Never before had I felt a sense of community with my fellow theatregoers like I did while seeing those two shows.
Initially, I had no intention of going to Ground Zero on that trip, my New York City friends implored me to go. Their message was simple -- it was important for people to bear witness to what I saw. On the Sunday morning after I had enjoyed The Women, I took the subway as far as I could to Chambers Street and then walked. Nothing could have prepared me for the magnitude of the World Trade Center’s still smoldering ruins. I couldn’t help but break down and cry.
Just as I'll never forget the carnage terrorists wrought on the greatest city on the planet, I'll always remember how everyone seemed to come together for a few brief shining moments in the wake of the attacks. I'll forever cherish those days I spent in New York City to witness it first-hand.
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.
Dreamgirls (The SOB Review) – Apollo Theatre, New York City, New York
**1/2 (out of ****)
Dreams don’t necessarily always come true, at least not in the way you hope.
But a partial realization is better than a complete pipedream going up in smoke. And so it goes not only with the lofty aspirations of Effie Melody White in Dreamgirls, but also with the entertaining, if somewhat disappointing, revival of the musical itself.
When I learned that this show, one of my all-time favorite musicals, would be revived -- and at the Apollo Theatre, no less, the fabled venue prominently featured in the tuner’s opening scene -- I began to fantasize about how a new stage incarnation could reclaim the collective consciousness of an audience whose memories of the original had been wrestled away by the decent, if dramatically different silver screen incarnation from 2007.
Director Robert Longbottom’s Dreamgirls may have avoided stepping into the bad side in the most pejorative of senses. Yet it’s remarkable how many steps backward he’s taken via liberties with the vastly superior original book by Tom Eyen, as well as making it seem a bit cartoonish.
Not only has a new version of the song “Listen” been lifted from the film version (this time sung as a duet between Effie Melody White and Deena Jones), but like the movie, this Dreamgirls has unnecessarily shifted too much of its heart away from what should be Effie’s enthralling and supremely urgent story. In doing so, the irony is that Longbottom has nearly subjugated Effie to the type of supporting role her character rails against playing within the fictional Dreams.
There are flashes of brilliance in its hardworking cast to be sure, and they make Henry Krieger and Eyen's score come alive. It should be heartbreaking to watch any rendition of “And I’m Telling You I’m Not Going.” Fortunately, Moya Angela wells up with the requisite mix of anger and anguish to nearly make this the show-stopping tune it’s intended to be.
However, nearly all of this Dreamgirls’ biggest flourishes come from the giant LED screens that Howard Werner has used in lieu of scenery. That’s not necessarily all bad as the dizzying array of displayed images provide an added texture to the proceedings. Unfortunately, it’s almost the single most electrifying aspect of the show, and all fingers point back to Longbottom again for not investing more in his talented cast’s ability to move the story along with heart and soul.
The biggest exception here, and it is extraordinarily large, is Chester Gregory’s astonishing, captivating turn as the fictional R&B pioneer, James “Thunder” Early. Gregory’s supporting performance is so electrifying that his breathtaking mega-wattage practically leaves those illuminated LED panels in the dark.
Longbottom’s slick choreography is serviceable, albeit a tad uninspired, much like his direction, leaving dreams dashed for those anticipating something truly unforgettable. At least this Dreamgirls avoids devolving into a nightmare, and is more enjoyable than not.
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 paid my own way for this performance.
Street Lights (The SOB Overview) – American Theatre of Actors (Chernuchin Theatre), New York, New York
How’s this for a hot new musical?
A hip-hop show all about hope that itself is brimming with promise. That’s the effusive charm of Joe Drymala’s Street Lights.
Overflowing with more substantive radio-ready tunes per show than any recent musical in memory, his infectious score is beyond exciting. With a potent mix of pop, R&B, hip-hop and rap, each song is like tapping into a forbidden power source with most providing an unexpected surge of electrifying empowerment. It doesn’t matter that I can’t get the tunes out of my head -- I don’t want to.
For the sake of the New York Musical Theatre Festival (NYMF), Drymala has clearly focused maximum energy on developing a megawatt score, and it shows. That attention comes at the expense of his book, which still needs some work in order to flow seamlessly. Nevertheless, the themes -- centering on Harlem high school students, including two gifted young siblings with the requisite faith they need to make something of their lives -- radiate enormous potential for the future life of this show.
More than realizing her potential is the self-assured Carla Duren, delivering a heart-shattering performance as Monique Willis. As a vocal powerhouse, Duren is remarkably believable as an immensely talented young singer yearning to be the next Alicia Keys.
Same goes for the magnetic Kevin Curtis as her brother Rocky, a high school senior who has his eyes on becoming the next Thurgood Marshall. His ebullient joy upon learning he’s been accepted into Georgetown is about as close as this show comes to a true show-stopping hit. Curtis’ “yes we can” enthusiasm is downright contagious.
But hope as Monique and Rocky might, their dreams risk being jeopardized by their individual associations with a charismatic drug dealer named Damon Cruz, portrayed by the mesmerizing Miguel Jarquin-Moreland. Monique and Rocky learn just how dangerous it can be to play with fire.
Street Lights unabashedly and unapologetically wears its progressive politics transparently on its sleeve -- so much so that it often veers close to becoming overly preachy and even heavy-handed. You can chalk Drymala’s wild-eyed yet earnest passion for activism up to his experience as primary speechwriter for former Democrat National Committee Chairman Howard Dean’s presidential campaign. That explains the few gratuitous digs at the former president. Regardless of one’s politics, there’s an admirable, if slightly naïve, call to action to overcome any obstacle, no matter how formidable.
While the Ryan J. Davis-helmed Street Lights has already concluded its brief NYMF run, these lights won’t dim completely. With San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre already picking up the show for a Left Coast production, I expect to hear eventual raves on how a much further developed and tightened Street Lights is shining brighter than ever and keeping hope alive for a return engagement in New York.
By George, if you're a theatre junkie, you know that most New York theatres, particularly those on Broadway, are dark each Monday.
Not only does it enable shows' casts and crews the opportunity to catch up on some much needed rest, but it leaves Big Apple visitors scrambling for other touristy things to do.
So what better time to celebrate the annual national observance of George Washington's Birthday (otherwise referred to, incorrectly, as Presidents Day) than by visiting the New York City site where the first United States President was inaugurated for his first term? If only.
Down close to the far end of Broadway on Wall Street is the Federal Hall National Memorial, which quite ironically, not to mention confoundedly, is closed because of today's national holiday.
But since the original Federal Hall -- along with its historic second floor balcony where Washington first recited the oath of office -- was razed in 1812, it may not really matter much that the present building isn't open to visitors on this holiday, which comes six full days in advance of Washington's actual birthday. Originally built in 1842 as a Customs House, the current memorial features John Quincy Adams Ward's statue of George Washington on its outside steps.
Still, I can't help but wonder why the National Park Service wouldn't keep the memorial open on the day specifically designed to honor Washington. Unless, of course, all the craziness of late directly across the street and in the town named to honor him has sucked up every last available dollar bearing a flipped version of his likeness necessary for keeping the place open today.
Road Show (The SOB Review) - The Public Theater, New York, New York
*** (out of ****)
Just when you may have thought everyone either loved or hated the latest revision to Stephen Sondheim's ever-gestating musical, currently called Road Show, I'm here to tell you that I merely liked John Doyle's interpretation.
But that's infinitely better than where my own personal journey began with this Road Show. Just over five years ago, I took in the overbloated Goodman Theatre production of the tuner's precursor of Bounce in Chicago, which included a major love storyline barely hinted at in the streamlined Public Theater staging.
With John Weidman's book and Sondheim's Assassinsesque score substantially whittled, Doyle's decidedly darker direction ironically gives Road Show its, er, bounce. It doesn't hurt that the largely comic verve in Chicago has been replaced by a more serious, sinister examination of Addison and Wilson Mizner, the real-life brothers who sought fame and fortune (the former was credited with launching a "Florida Renaissance" via his architecture in Palm Beach and Boca Raton, while the latter wrote three Broadway shows staged between 1909 and 1912). Set against another troubling economic time, Doyle mines the material to maximum cautionary impact, including through his own ingenious scenic design.
In the single best performances I've yet to see from frequent Sondheim interpreters Michael Cerveris and Alexander Gemignani, the actors offer measured portrayals of Wilson's greedy self-destruction and Addison's yearning to rise above it, respectively. While Gemignani wrings pathos from his Addison, Cerveris' Wilson is purely and perfectly pathetic ... and highly entertaining.
Will Road Show someday find its place among the most revered in Sondheim's canon? While it's nowhere near that, yet, it's certainly come a long way.
Don't Quit Your Night Job (The SOB Overview) - Zipper Theatre, New York, NY
So where are all the cool kids known as Broadway Babies hanging out after hours?
Look no further than a dozen blocks or so south of the Great White Way to the illustrious Zipper Theatre, where on a monthly basis, Don't Quit Your Night Jobkeeps the midtown theatre party going with fresh and funny improv.
Given the very nature of improv, some pieces work better than others, but you can't help but admire their spunk. My favorite bit was watching Sutton Foster and Andrea Martin compete in a hilarious obstacle race buttressed by a bloviating Broadway bent.
And to boot, all proceeds from the March performance -- a mere $20 to get in the door, although get there early in April to secure a halfway decent seat -- went to benefit Wendy Wasserstein’s Open Doors Initiative, a mentoring program offered through the Theatre Development Fund (TDF) that provides small groups of high school students an in-depth introduction to live theatre and dance.
So if you want a chance to hang out where all the cool kids are, check out Don't Quit Your Night Job.
Euan Morton: Here And Now (The SOB Review) - The Oak Room, The Algonquin Hotel, New York, NY
**** (out of ****)
Nearly six long years after first being introduced to the incredible musical instrument known as Euan Morton, I finally had an opportunity to hear one of the stage's single, most beautiful male singing voices live yet again.
Back in the summer of 2002, I was fortunate to take in the original London production of Taboo.Having been an early fan of 80s pop band Culture Club, I was drawn to the show with a promise of seeing Boy George O'Dowd himself perform as performance artist Leigh Bowery alongside his very own doppelgänger -- a younger version of himself, portrayed by a then-unknown Scottish double-threat named Euan Morton.
While I went in for Boy George, I came out a fan of the gifted young singer/actor, not only because he effectively became his character, but especially because of that voice, that sweetly angelic voice. He simply blew me away.
Thanks in part to all the negative publicity over the ill-fated Broadway mounting of Taboo, I opted to count my blessings for having seen the much better received (and by most accounts, better period) production in the West End and thus skipped the stateside version. The downside to that decision was that with the exception of Morton's 2004 benefit concert appearance in Hair, there have been absolutely no other opportunities to see this amazing talent sing again on Broadway.
It was a bit of a consolation that Euan Morton eventually hit the Main Stem boards again in last fall's terrific production of Cyrano de Bergeracin which he took on the dual roles of Lignière and Théophraste Renaudot. While Morton further burnished his solid acting credentials, there was no chance of hearing his dulcet tones.
Thankfully, the fine folks at The Algonquin Hotel have been savvy enough to bring him into their intimate Oak Room Cabaret for a brief weekend stint during the month of March. It gave smart New Yorkers (and others) a first hand look at and listen to how charming and delightful this golden throated tenor truly is. In his Oak Room appearance, he effortlessly belted out tune after tune, reaching every note with incredible ease and precision.
And mind you, it wasn't just a rehash of showtunes. No, Morton offered an eclectic mix that flowed perfectly, whether he was breathing new life into gorgeous old standards like George Gershwin's classic "Someone To Watch Over Me" or offering his own fresh interpretations on more contemporary tunes like Roy Orbison's giddily romantic "You Got It," and Paul Simon's haunting "American Tune" -- a song that has long since been among my all-time personal favorites.
Speaking of haunting, it seemed as though the ghost of Dorothy Parker herself was trying to interfere with Morton's act as the piano reverberated strangely. Without losing his composure, Morton displayed a healthy dose self-effacing humor, along with friendly and witty repartee with his audience. It's no wonder he is such a consummate performer. It's also no small wonder big names like Alan Cumming and Raúl Esparza showed up the same night I was there to applaud his work.
And I was certainly applauding as well, not to mention taking heart that Euan Morton is excited about participating in a workshop for what could very well be one of his next stage musicals -- a bio in which he portrays the legendary Charlie Chaplin. So it was apropos that one of the final tunes he performed was a heartwrenching rendition of Chaplin's "Smile."
Despite the tears in my eyes, it sure brought a huge smile to my face.
In many circles, Off-Broadway has long been considered the last bastion for truly great, cutting-edge theatre in New York City. Now through September 16, you can see some of Off-Broadway's top plays and musicals for just $20 each.
The catch? You must purchase your tickets within 20 minutes of a performance.
Promoted by OffBroadway.com, 20 At 20 is a project of the Off-Broadway Brainstormers, in association with the League of Off-Broadway Theatres and Producers.
Talk about an excellent deal, especially if you have a little extra time on your hands.
This is Steve On Broadway (SOB).
Click here for ticket information and qualifying stage performances.
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!
True to the mayor’s prescribed list, I checked into a midtown hotel, did the requisite shopping and made sure I bought tickets to not one, but two Broadway shows. First up was the Tony-winning revival of a quintessential New York classic 42nd Street starring Christine Ebersole.
While our attendance was a mere pittance compared to the selfless efforts of those toiling around the clock at the southern end of Manhattan, there was a shared sense that we were at least doing something in providing a tiny economic shot in the arm to this recovering city. Never before had I felt a sense of community with my fellow theatregoers like I did while seeing those two shows.
