Like the song in Fiorello says, "Shuffle up the cards, and find the joker."
Yes, we should all be paying major attention to the presidential race. It will take someone extraordinary to repair the damage that George Bush has done over the last eight years, pimping our nation's reputation and sending thousands to needless deaths for the sake of corporate profit. Sadly, both parties are working overtime to obfuscate the real issues in this race, and (adding insult to injury) they are spending the last days of summer boring the living hell out of us with their pasturized conventions.
American presidential conventions used to be great fun for a news junkie to watch. As a child growing up in the 1960s, I relished the spectacle of politicos hacking away at one another, with sessions often dragging on into the night as careers rose and fell in full view of the television cameras. Since all this happened in the school-free months of summer, my parents were willing to let me stay up and watch the carnage. The conventions of 1968 and 1972 were particularly colorful and chaotic -- so much so that party bosses resolved to turn these confabs into more orderly tools of candidate promotion.
Now all the bloodshed takes palce before the opening gavel, making conventions little more than a slick, carefully scheduled week-long series informercials with the most important speakers reserved for the primetime hours between 9 and 11 PM, Eastern time. The results are guaranteed boredom for any except those viewers already gung-ho for a particular party or candidate. The media does its best to maximize the occasional planned moment of pseudo-drama, such as trotting out a candidate's spouse, a former prez, or someone in terminal condition enjoying a last hurrah. After the sheer spectacle and stunning physiques of the Beijing Olympics, this nightly tedium is all the more resistible. Thank heaven for classic films on TCM, or the television nights of this late summer would be strictly reserved for reviewing my DVD collections!
It wasn't so long ago that musical stage stars made regular appearances to entertain at these conventions. Ethel Merman was a die-hard Republican and invariably showed up to sing the national anthem for the party faithful. As recently as 2000, the Broadway revival cast of The Music Man made a rousing appearance for the Democrats. Now only the blandest of pop singers appear. But I fear this is all too understandable. Which of the current roster of hits would be even vaguely appropriate for such a venue? Having the kids from Spring Awakening howl about "The Bitch of Living" would merely add to the boredom. The humpy sailors from South Pacific might make the grade in wartime, but regardless of who got the Democratic nomination this time, "There is Nothing Like a Dame" would hardly be a tactful choice!
Mind you, this is the reaction of a longtime registered Democrat to his own party's convention -- I will probably groan when I accidentally brush past the nonsense the Republicans will spew forth next week. Come November, I am definitely voting for Obama -- the thought of four more years of Republican mayhem and mismanagement terrifies me.
But MUST these politicians always bore us along the way?
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
When Broadway Looks Like a Bargain
Theatre lovers do a lot of bitching about ticket prices, and with good reason. I paid $14 for a full price orchestra seat to my first Broadway show, Irene at the Minskoff Theatre. If I were to purchase that same seat for the Minskoff’s current tenant The Lion King (as if!), it would cost me $120. But who am I to carp? Older fans wax rhapsodic about paying $6 to see Martin and Pinza in the original South Pacific, so it is easy to understand their frustration with coughing up twenty times as much to see the current revival. Sure, everything is more expensive, but Broadway ticket prices have increased at far more than the general rate of inflation, thanks to the greed of theatre owners, producers and unions.
Now New York’s baseball team owners have managed to make Broadway look like a bargain. Both teams are building new stadiums, and both have recently announced the whopping new prices they will be charging for tickets. The Mets are hiking their prices a whopping 79 percent over this year, with prime seats going for $495. This is a steal compared with the Yankees, who will be charging up to $2500 – and yes, that is for a single ticket to a single game.
The cost of living in New York City is redefining insanity, but even by that ever-climbing standard, these new prices for baseball tix are beyond obscene. The most upsetting aspect of this story is that both the Mets and Yankees claim that advance sales for these overpriced ducats are strong. If the public is stupid enough to go along with this thievery, who has any right to cry foul? And mind you, we are talking about people shelling out $495 to $2500 bucks to attend ballgames that will be available on television.
So Broadway’s $120 top price suddenly looks like a bargain price for an evening’s entertainment. One might even think that Mel Brooks’ vampiric $450 premium seats for Young Frankenstein now seem reasonable. (They aren't -- especially for a second rate rehash like YF.)
What a pity that the ticket buying public is unable or just plain unwilling to stand up for itself and refuse to pay these outrageous prices. Don’t kid yourself – empty seats would swiftly lead to lower ticket prices, both at the stadiums and in theatres. But Americans are no good at denying themselves immediate gratification, and so long as the market will bear this insane ticket pricing, it will continue.
Any guesses on when Little League teams will start charging $50 to see junior strike out?
Now New York’s baseball team owners have managed to make Broadway look like a bargain. Both teams are building new stadiums, and both have recently announced the whopping new prices they will be charging for tickets. The Mets are hiking their prices a whopping 79 percent over this year, with prime seats going for $495. This is a steal compared with the Yankees, who will be charging up to $2500 – and yes, that is for a single ticket to a single game.
The cost of living in New York City is redefining insanity, but even by that ever-climbing standard, these new prices for baseball tix are beyond obscene. The most upsetting aspect of this story is that both the Mets and Yankees claim that advance sales for these overpriced ducats are strong. If the public is stupid enough to go along with this thievery, who has any right to cry foul? And mind you, we are talking about people shelling out $495 to $2500 bucks to attend ballgames that will be available on television.
So Broadway’s $120 top price suddenly looks like a bargain price for an evening’s entertainment. One might even think that Mel Brooks’ vampiric $450 premium seats for Young Frankenstein now seem reasonable. (They aren't -- especially for a second rate rehash like YF.)
What a pity that the ticket buying public is unable or just plain unwilling to stand up for itself and refuse to pay these outrageous prices. Don’t kid yourself – empty seats would swiftly lead to lower ticket prices, both at the stadiums and in theatres. But Americans are no good at denying themselves immediate gratification, and so long as the market will bear this insane ticket pricing, it will continue.
Any guesses on when Little League teams will start charging $50 to see junior strike out?
Monday, May 19, 2008
Not Caring About the Tonys
People have been asking why I have not posted a commentary on the Tony nominations -- something Musicals101 used to do religiously. Well, my reason for not doing so this year was simple. After a truly craptacular season for Broadway musicals, I cannot work up much enthusiasm one way or the other for the current crop of nominees. When the only interesting race of the evening is whether Gypsy or South Pacific will win Best Revival, its a sad commentary on the lack of new musical magic on Broadway. As it is, I will skip watching this Tony telecast.
A long time ago, I wrote on Musicals101 that musical theatre is bound to develop in ways no one can possibly foresee, and it will doubtless evolve in ways some of us are not going to like very much. This year, the Tony committee resolutely overlooked some big-budget traditional musicals of dubious merit (like the bloated Young Frankenstein and the tasteless Little Mermaid) and aimed most of their nominations at musicals that took a more innovative approach. While I applaud this apprach in theory, I cannot pretend to care about the "innovative" shows in question. I found Passing Strange to be deafening example of "sound and fury signifying nothing," a self-indulgent performance piece. In The Heights is a pleasant little show, but I can't say it really moved or delighted me. I will mercifully refrain from commenting on the other nominees, who are more or less on hand to fill out the category.
Am I really itching to see numbersfrom any of the new musicals performed on the Tony telecast? Frankly, no. One hopes we will get great scenes from the revivals, but beyond that, I have no qualms about not watching the Tonys this year. That night happens to be when the York Theatre is closing a weekend-long revival of the 1985 musical Grind. Sure, I will record the broadcast (for clips to show during classroom lectures), but I am not going to rush home that night to view the results.
I miss caring about the Tonys.
A long time ago, I wrote on Musicals101 that musical theatre is bound to develop in ways no one can possibly foresee, and it will doubtless evolve in ways some of us are not going to like very much. This year, the Tony committee resolutely overlooked some big-budget traditional musicals of dubious merit (like the bloated Young Frankenstein and the tasteless Little Mermaid) and aimed most of their nominations at musicals that took a more innovative approach. While I applaud this apprach in theory, I cannot pretend to care about the "innovative" shows in question. I found Passing Strange to be deafening example of "sound and fury signifying nothing," a self-indulgent performance piece. In The Heights is a pleasant little show, but I can't say it really moved or delighted me. I will mercifully refrain from commenting on the other nominees, who are more or less on hand to fill out the category.
Am I really itching to see numbersfrom any of the new musicals performed on the Tony telecast? Frankly, no. One hopes we will get great scenes from the revivals, but beyond that, I have no qualms about not watching the Tonys this year. That night happens to be when the York Theatre is closing a weekend-long revival of the 1985 musical Grind. Sure, I will record the broadcast (for clips to show during classroom lectures), but I am not going to rush home that night to view the results.
I miss caring about the Tonys.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
And I Deserve a Toy
Every now and then, I have a Max Bialystock moment, and decide that I deserve a toy. This morning was one of those times. I had just gotten over a punishing case of the flu (so much for the vaccine I endured last October!), hosted Marge Champion at a very successful SRO Musical Conversation at the York Theatre, and got through a marketing meeting with my publishers to discuss a book that is now months past its original publication date. Yup, I've been working very hard, and I deserve a toy.
So I stopped in a video store, whiped out my trusty plastic, and bought the first and second season DVD sets for The Muppet Show. While I would love to tell you that my intentions were purely archival, that would be a lie. I happen to love the Muppets, and have no qualms admitting I was a total fan of this series, which turned these fuzzy-faced characters into the most unlikely variety repertory company of all time. Some were particularly charmed by the inexplicable relationship between soft-hearted Kermit the Frog and the eternally egotistical Miss Piggy, but I loved the whole insane corral.
And who could beat that ongoing parade of guest stars? At a time when variety shows were fading from the scene, the Muppets helped give the genre one final blaze of glittering, family-friendly glory. Such diverse musical theatre and film talents as Juliet Prowse, Joel Grey and Rita Moreno were among the first to make appearances on The Muppet Show, paving the way for a bona fide army of other top line celebrities in years to come. Even such divas as Julie Andrews and Beverly Sills would strut their stuff with Kermit’s crew, creating some rare moments of musical comedy fun. Who could forget one creepy-faced critter crooning “I hear singing and there’s no one there,” only to have Merman dismiss him with a curt, “You would!”
I’ll be relishing these disks for years to come, but will make a point of (you should pardon the expression) pigging out on them a bit in the next few weeks. As my relationship of 20-plus years comes to an end (not my idea, I assure you) and my beloved apartment goes up for sale, some musical comedy distraction is in order. And the nice thing with these DVD sets is that I will still get to relish them after my relationship and apartment fade into the past.
When life start’s singing a sad and blue song, go into your dance . . . and if you have two left feet as I do, you can at least let Miss Piggy hoof it for you.
So I stopped in a video store, whiped out my trusty plastic, and bought the first and second season DVD sets for The Muppet Show. While I would love to tell you that my intentions were purely archival, that would be a lie. I happen to love the Muppets, and have no qualms admitting I was a total fan of this series, which turned these fuzzy-faced characters into the most unlikely variety repertory company of all time. Some were particularly charmed by the inexplicable relationship between soft-hearted Kermit the Frog and the eternally egotistical Miss Piggy, but I loved the whole insane corral.
And who could beat that ongoing parade of guest stars? At a time when variety shows were fading from the scene, the Muppets helped give the genre one final blaze of glittering, family-friendly glory. Such diverse musical theatre and film talents as Juliet Prowse, Joel Grey and Rita Moreno were among the first to make appearances on The Muppet Show, paving the way for a bona fide army of other top line celebrities in years to come. Even such divas as Julie Andrews and Beverly Sills would strut their stuff with Kermit’s crew, creating some rare moments of musical comedy fun. Who could forget one creepy-faced critter crooning “I hear singing and there’s no one there,” only to have Merman dismiss him with a curt, “You would!”
I’ll be relishing these disks for years to come, but will make a point of (you should pardon the expression) pigging out on them a bit in the next few weeks. As my relationship of 20-plus years comes to an end (not my idea, I assure you) and my beloved apartment goes up for sale, some musical comedy distraction is in order. And the nice thing with these DVD sets is that I will still get to relish them after my relationship and apartment fade into the past.
When life start’s singing a sad and blue song, go into your dance . . . and if you have two left feet as I do, you can at least let Miss Piggy hoof it for you.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Don't Almost Revisit a Classic
It is considered poor form to review a workshop, unless of course the review is a rave. So I am not going to post a formal Musicals101 review of the current New York Musical Theatre Festival production of Main Travelled Roads, but I cannot resist offering a thought here on my blog.
If you are going to create any sort of artwork, it is a wise to avoid ideas that echo previous masterworks. Some years ago, the Broadway musical Copperfield had a song where the title character pleaded, “Mama, Don’t Get Married.” Set in 2/4, this charming number led a number of critics to compare it unfavorably to Gypsy’s 3/4 time “If Mama Was Married,” even though the two songs bore no resemblance to one another aside from two common words in the title.
Now imagine a musical that starts out with a farm girl deciding who will take her to a fair – the handsome hunk she loves, or the more aggressive man who won’t take no for an answer. While Main Travelled Roads is no Oklahoma, the vague resemblance was enough to make one person sitting near me audibly ask when the DeMille dream ballet would begin.
My friendly advice to the authors of Main Travelled Roads is to take whatever they have learned from this project and apply it to something else. The inescapable ghosts of Laurey, Curly and Judd (and Eller too) hang over Main Travelled Roads, and I suspect it will be impossible to escape them.
If you are going to create any sort of artwork, it is a wise to avoid ideas that echo previous masterworks. Some years ago, the Broadway musical Copperfield had a song where the title character pleaded, “Mama, Don’t Get Married.” Set in 2/4, this charming number led a number of critics to compare it unfavorably to Gypsy’s 3/4 time “If Mama Was Married,” even though the two songs bore no resemblance to one another aside from two common words in the title.
Now imagine a musical that starts out with a farm girl deciding who will take her to a fair – the handsome hunk she loves, or the more aggressive man who won’t take no for an answer. While Main Travelled Roads is no Oklahoma, the vague resemblance was enough to make one person sitting near me audibly ask when the DeMille dream ballet would begin.
My friendly advice to the authors of Main Travelled Roads is to take whatever they have learned from this project and apply it to something else. The inescapable ghosts of Laurey, Curly and Judd (and Eller too) hang over Main Travelled Roads, and I suspect it will be impossible to escape them.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Appearing on PBS
If you love documentaries like I do, you have probably spent more hours than you can count watching PBS. Sure, there are now several cable networks that offer documentaries on various subjects, but from the hard-hitting Frontline to the wonderful brothers Burns, the creme de la creme of documentaries are still found on public television. And because PBS is a public resource, pretty much everyone can access it.
So although I have been a "talking head" in various cable and DVD documentaries over the last decade, it was a special thrill to make my PBS debut in Hollywood Singing and Dancing. The producers contacted me about a year ago, and our filmed interview went exceptionally well, but I had no idea when the show would be aired. Imagine my surprise last Sunday morning when a slew of phone messages and e-mails from friends announced that I had been on the night before! Lucky for me, a rerun was scheduled for that very evening. I am not ashamed to say I spent the entire broadcast on the phone with my Mom, who kvelled over the entire program. Hey, its not every day you get to share the screen with Shirley Jones, Tommy Tune, Debbie Reynolds, Marge Champion and about a dozen other legendary talents. Mom tells me she spent the rest of the week hearing compliments from friends and relatives -- to put it mildly, she was a happy camper.And frankly, so was I.
Appearing on PBS is still something of a landmark for any historian and/or educator. And there is a definite pleasure in having strangers walk up on the street and say, "Hey, I saw you on TV this week!" (Go ahead, call me shallow!) But corny as it sounds, I keep thinking of the potential television has to inspire young viewers. You just know that somewhere, some kid watching that documentary got their first serious taste of musical film -- and with any luck, the torch has been passed on. My passion for musicals has been an animating factor in my life, and I want to give that passion to those that follow me.
As I type this at my desk in the York Theatre, an audience is just across the hall cheering for the songs of lyricist Amanda Green. This talented lady caught her passion for musical theatre from her parents, the legendary writer Adolph Green and the gifted actress Phyllis Newman. Not everyone can be lucky enough to have such a close connection to musicals. Some may catch the theatre bug from teachers or by seeing a show. But at least a few have found their passion by seeing something on PBS. So it is nice to have been a part of that -- very nice, in fact.
So although I have been a "talking head" in various cable and DVD documentaries over the last decade, it was a special thrill to make my PBS debut in Hollywood Singing and Dancing. The producers contacted me about a year ago, and our filmed interview went exceptionally well, but I had no idea when the show would be aired. Imagine my surprise last Sunday morning when a slew of phone messages and e-mails from friends announced that I had been on the night before! Lucky for me, a rerun was scheduled for that very evening. I am not ashamed to say I spent the entire broadcast on the phone with my Mom, who kvelled over the entire program. Hey, its not every day you get to share the screen with Shirley Jones, Tommy Tune, Debbie Reynolds, Marge Champion and about a dozen other legendary talents. Mom tells me she spent the rest of the week hearing compliments from friends and relatives -- to put it mildly, she was a happy camper.And frankly, so was I.
Appearing on PBS is still something of a landmark for any historian and/or educator. And there is a definite pleasure in having strangers walk up on the street and say, "Hey, I saw you on TV this week!" (Go ahead, call me shallow!) But corny as it sounds, I keep thinking of the potential television has to inspire young viewers. You just know that somewhere, some kid watching that documentary got their first serious taste of musical film -- and with any luck, the torch has been passed on. My passion for musicals has been an animating factor in my life, and I want to give that passion to those that follow me.
As I type this at my desk in the York Theatre, an audience is just across the hall cheering for the songs of lyricist Amanda Green. This talented lady caught her passion for musical theatre from her parents, the legendary writer Adolph Green and the gifted actress Phyllis Newman. Not everyone can be lucky enough to have such a close connection to musicals. Some may catch the theatre bug from teachers or by seeing a show. But at least a few have found their passion by seeing something on PBS. So it is nice to have been a part of that -- very nice, in fact.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Letters from The Master
Just finished devouring The Letters of Noel Coward, edited by Barry Day; easily the most enjoyable read I've had in years. Not only do we get a life's worth of The Master's private correspondence to friends and colleagues, but in many cases we get letters these extraordinary people wrote to Noel. The result is a literal -- and literary -- treasure trove. What Coward fan could fail to enjoy an inside look at his relationships with Marlene Dietrich, Lunt & Fontanne, Gertrude Lawrence, Clifton Webb, and more? I for one reveled in getting the long-awaited scoop on his infamous feud with Mary Martin, which began when she starred in Coward's 1946 London production of Pacific 1860 and ended in time for the duo to co-star in the landmark 1955 American television special Together With Music.
More than one friend of mine has commented on Coward's frequent use of politically incorrect obscenities in these letters. Frankly, this didn't bother me. These letters were never intended for public reading. Noel used strong language, partly to make his letters more amusing, and partly because it can take strong language to express strong feelings.
I think the real issue for some readers is Noel's affection for "the C Word," the one that rhymes with "runt," "stunt" and "bunt"? He uses it rather freely, but not in a particularly misogynistic way. Yes, on occasion it refers to difficult women (such as Beatrice Lillie) but it is also used to refer to men, situations and places, including in one unlikely instance Mexico City. Of course it is one of the rudest words in the language, one my mother condems. I fully understand why many women find this word unacceptable under any circumstances, but truth be told, I have heard more women use that word than men -- and usually in reference to other women. That may not "justify" Coward's use of it, but then who says he needs justification? A rapier tongue was part of the Coward persona; those who don't like it are welcome to read something less potentially controversial. But if you can stand the vocabulary, this book is a rare joy ride.
Actually, I reveled in seeing fresh examples of Coward's linguistic dexterity. He describes the often troublesome Tallulah Bankhead as a "conceited slut" -- a phrase I have never seen before, and one that fits a frightening number of people (of all sexes) that I've contended with over the decades.
Noel's fans and scholars will delight in The Letters of Noel Coward, but I won't be the least surprised if a sequel eventually appears. We get the Master at his best and worst in this book. My one regret is that no correspondence with his longtime companion Graham Payne is included. Mr. Day explains that certain aspects of Noel's private life should remain private. While I certainly respect that position, I can't help hoping that time will lead to the publication of more of Coward's letters, including the occasional love note.
More than one friend of mine has commented on Coward's frequent use of politically incorrect obscenities in these letters. Frankly, this didn't bother me. These letters were never intended for public reading. Noel used strong language, partly to make his letters more amusing, and partly because it can take strong language to express strong feelings.
I think the real issue for some readers is Noel's affection for "the C Word," the one that rhymes with "runt," "stunt" and "bunt"? He uses it rather freely, but not in a particularly misogynistic way. Yes, on occasion it refers to difficult women (such as Beatrice Lillie) but it is also used to refer to men, situations and places, including in one unlikely instance Mexico City. Of course it is one of the rudest words in the language, one my mother condems. I fully understand why many women find this word unacceptable under any circumstances, but truth be told, I have heard more women use that word than men -- and usually in reference to other women. That may not "justify" Coward's use of it, but then who says he needs justification? A rapier tongue was part of the Coward persona; those who don't like it are welcome to read something less potentially controversial. But if you can stand the vocabulary, this book is a rare joy ride.
Actually, I reveled in seeing fresh examples of Coward's linguistic dexterity. He describes the often troublesome Tallulah Bankhead as a "conceited slut" -- a phrase I have never seen before, and one that fits a frightening number of people (of all sexes) that I've contended with over the decades.
Noel's fans and scholars will delight in The Letters of Noel Coward, but I won't be the least surprised if a sequel eventually appears. We get the Master at his best and worst in this book. My one regret is that no correspondence with his longtime companion Graham Payne is included. Mr. Day explains that certain aspects of Noel's private life should remain private. While I certainly respect that position, I can't help hoping that time will lead to the publication of more of Coward's letters, including the occasional love note.
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