Happy Thanksgiving 2019!

Hello, cyber-friends!  Happy happy day!  I can’t believe another year has gone by - my life seems to be hurtling forward and I just can't hang on some days.  That's when I know I am ready for a break; my weekend is actually going to be extra-long this year, due to comp days after so much work for work.  Whew.  I'm glad to be celebrating this year with my dear traveling chums and I hope that your day is filled with as much laughter and love (and tasty beverages) as I know mine will be.  Oooo, put some good vibes in the air, please, that my new recipe for cranberry sauce turns out deliciously!

As always, I have plenty of things to be thankful for this year, such as:

• my amazing family;
• most especially my pip of a nephew, who is just the most wonderful young man in the entire world;
• my beautiful GNO gal pals;
• our wonderful guy pals/plus-two;
• my wonderful extended family, with the coolest aunts, uncles, and cousins around;
• all of my dear, darling friends who lift me up daily;
• co-workers who drink with me and make me laugh;
• Fresh Direct;
• Herman Cornejo's tango;
• Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries;
• Justin's dark chocolate mini peanut butter cups;
• A Strange Loop cast album;
• ginger beer;
• Great British Baking Show;
• Buttercup Bake Shop's s'mores cupcake;
• resilience;
• discovering Golden Girls bingo;
• empathy;
• the coffee shop in my office building lobby;
• Nancy Pelosi;
• Shake Shack delivery;
• new Twitter friends;
• Charles Busch;
• a dear one’s returned good health;
• Boqueria;
• my students who have become my friends;
• Sign Language Center;
• Sephora/rollerball perfumes;
• Roxane Gay;
• frequent flyer miles;
• Edinburgh Festival Fringe;
• the killer bee cocktail at the Stinger;
• the new Power Plays newsletter about women in sports;
• riding an elevator with Tom Hiddleston;
• TOSOS;
• my beautiful goddaughters;
• the Talkback podcast;
• heavy-duty undereye concealer;
• my handsome young physical therapist;
• my Roku;
• reveling in my dear Fellows' successes;
• L'Oreal magic root coverup;
• my righteous indignation;
• my ability to dream.

I'm sure there's more, but let's stop there.  I'm feeling much thankfulness now, so that's a good thing.  Enjoy your holiday, everyone, and thanks to YOU for joining me here!

Review - The Young Man from Atlanta

It is well-documented on this blog that I adore the plays of Horton Foote.  His stories of family and regret and home just ring painfully and beautifully true to me.  I always feel as if I've been dropped into the middle of a real-life situation and I'm eavesdropping on lives just...happening.  There are people who find his plays dull or one-note, but I find them really delicately thrilling and moving, in their quiet way.  I'll put links to other reviews of his work at the bottom of this post; I've also discovered a review from before my blog that I haven't shared with you yet - look for that one as a holiday auto-post!

Anyway, when Signature Theatre (one of my very favorite places to be) announced that they would be doing a revival of Foote's The Young Man from Atlanta, I knew I had to go.  My mom and I saw the Broadway production in 1997, and I have to admit I don't remember much about the experience except that we loved it and Shirley Knight was amazing (though you can always say that about Shirley Knight, I think).  

Winner of the 1995 Pulitzer Prize, The Young Man from Atlanta is a real indictment of the American dream, and how generations of people live in fear and hubris, all at the same time.  Set in the 1950s, we first meet Will Kidder in his office, all bluster and bravado, going on about his new house and new car until he begins to relay the story of his only son's death by drowning.  You begin to see the cracks in his facade, even as he states with certainty that he always swore he would never be as poor as his father.  You can see there is pain and avoidance, even then.  That pain and avoidance gets larger and larger throughout the play, mainly due to the death of his son and the persistence of the unseen young man from Atlanta.

photo credit: Monique Carboni

We see that new home after the first scene - it's spare and sterile, with boxes everywhere.  Those boxes get moved around, but nothing is ever unpacked.  Everyone seems unsettled there; you can tell no one feels at home.  The feelings that led Will to build the home haven't yet moved on, nor have Will and his wife Lily Dale, after the death of their son.  They both still live in denial and pain, trapped in the bubble they've built for themselves, with chatterings around minor details of life.  If they just keep chattering, things won't change.  But when Will loses his job of nearly-40 years, he and Lily Dale are forced to confront their fears about their lives, their futures, and the death of their son.

There is a lot of comedy in the play, and a lot of rueful sadness, and that's Horton Foote.  There's a lot of unspoken truths, so you're never quite sure who to believe at any time.  Seemingly-minor off-the-cuff remarks take on more significance as the play proceeds.  The play moves at a steady, Southern sort of pace, but my pulse still quickened when the big emotions that have been repressed throughout started to break through.

photo credit: Caitlin Ochs

I thought Aidan Quinn was wonderful as Will Kidder - his plainspoken handsomeness was really perfect for a Horton Foote play, and he modulated his bluster and his pain beautifully.  It was really lovely to finally see him onstage.  I have to admit I was less-taken with Kristine Nielsen as his wife Lily Dale, I found her a little much, although that may be because I still had the specter of Shirley Knight flashing through my brain.  I found it interesting that most of the reviews talked about Nielsen's 'restraint,' when I thought she was pretty extreme in her stereotypical dithering.  But maybe it was just me.  I enjoyed Dan Bittner as Tom Jackson, Will's young co-worker, and Harriett D. Foy as Clara, the Kidder's housekeeper.  And Pat Bowie as their former housekeeper was a powerhouse in her two brief scenes, when she brought some stringent truths to the family.  Oh, and I was thrilled that the genius that is Hallie Foote was still included in this production.

I could share quibbles that I had with the direction, but in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I will only say that I think this is a worthy revival of a worthy play and I am never unhappy in the company of Horton Foote's beautiful characters and beautiful words.  I am ever so grateful to my handsome friend for inviting me to join him at The Young Man from Atlanta.  I hope Signature never stops reviving Foote's work - even in my quest to see more and more new stories and new talent, there's always room for the universal joy and pain in the Texas drawn by the singular genius of Horton Foote.

Old reviews:

The Roads to Home
The Orphans' Home Cycle
The Trip to Bountiful
Harrison, TX: Three Plays by Horton Foote

A (much-needed) Night of Laughter

my autographed window card

Yes, I have told you REPEATEDLY how much I love Charles Busch and his plays.  Settle in to hear it again.  One of the few plays of his that I enjoyed in which he didn't star was The Tale of the Allergist's Wife; if I'm remembering correctly, I saw it after 9/11, when theaters were offering industry professionals discounted tickets to get business booming again.  I didn't see theater treasure Linda Lavin in the lead role, I saw Valerie Harper, who I loved.  I loved the show, I laughed heartily, and I was thrilled to see an old Ohio friend excel in one of the roles.  That was nearly 20 years ago - when I saw the announcement that the Actors Fund would be doing a one-night only performance of the show, featuring the original cast, I was IN.

I was especially keen about the fact that Charles Busch would now be taking on the lead role of Marjorie (which he had actually written for Linda Lavin) and Linda Lavin would be playing Marjorie's salty mother, Frieda (the original actress has unfortunately passed away in the years since the original Broadway production closed).  And my old Ohio friend would be participating as well, so all signs pointed to my having a fabulous time.

AND I DID.  I laughed my tuchus off, thank you very much.  The evening started with Linda Lavin coming out and chatting about her impulse to put the evening together (and her brief speech was a wonderful amuse bouche comic monologue itself).  Once the performance started, Charles was a riot as the depressed and dissatisfied Marjorie (thinking about the phone monologue to Frieda's doctor is making me giggle again as I type), Tony Roberts was deadpan delicious as Marjorie's saintly husband, Michele Lee (who I didn't recognize at first, I must admit, from my seat in the back row) was effervescent, Anil Kumar was charm personified as Mohammed the doorman.  Linda Lavin, who I referred to as a theatrical treasure in my first paragraph above, was, yes, a treasure as Frieda.  The other cast members could hardly contain their laughter at Linda's line readings of Frieda's intestinal troubles, and it was almost anarchy onstage when she related her 'near-lesbian experience' while making hamantaschen.  Oh, did I forget to mention that I nearly collapsed from laughter during Charles/Marjorie's description of her first attempt to write a novel?  Hearing her talk about her work as 'phantasmagoria' and having Helen Keller and Plato as characters...SO funny.  

photo credit: Rebecca J. Michaelson

Really, it was just a delightful evening with so much laughter.  I really needed it.  I feel as if I walk on stressed tenterhooks most of the time, so to have that release was a joy.  I laughed so much, I cried, and after I went to bed that night, I even woke myself up laughing.  The cast seemed to be having as much fun as we were in the audience, which is always a treat to see.  I don't think many theater companies produce The Tale of the Allergist's Wife; I don't know why, it is funny and fun.  Maybe it's too NYC-centric?  But I think people anywhere would get a kick out of Marjorie's existential crises, and who doesn't relate to mother/daughter comic situations?  But I digress.  I'm so happy that I found the funds to attend the performance and I'm so grateful to the Actors Fund for saying 'yes' when Linda Lavin approached them.  May more laugh-filled evenings come all our ways in the days to come...

Review - Betrayal

Hello again!  Today, to start, we get...backstory!  Whee!  I first read Harold Pinter's play Betrayal when I was in college.  I did not enjoy it.  I found the selfishness and privilege and remorselessness extremely unpleasant (which, I guess, could be the point, but still) and when I finished reading it, I threw it across the room.  My roommate at the time still teases me about it.  I've had a bad taste in my mouth about the play ever since (and we're talking over 30 years, so clearly I need to work on the whole 'I hold a grudge' part of my personality).

When the revival starring Tom Hiddleston was announced, I was briefly intrigued, because I find Hiddleston a very appealing actor.  I saw him at an event once and he was quite charming, as well.  But then I thought, no, I don't like the play.  Save money.  Which I completely intended on doing until the day last month when I rode in an elevator with Hiddleston.  I'm going to be shallow now:  jeepers, he's good-looking.  And the aura he exudes is undeniable.  So when a discount ticket offer came my way soon after, I thought what the heck?

Well, I can say I still don't like the play, but this production was interesting enough.  I described it to a friend on Facebook as 'elegantly hypnotic.'  Which it was. It was spare, attractive, intelligent.  Though, ultimately, it was totally unsatisfying to me because I don't like the play, I don't like the characters, I don't care about any of it/them.  They all lie, cheat, and expect everything will be handed to them.  Yeah, yeah, it's about betrayal and how we can't know each other or ourselves, and they're all unhappy, but blah blah blah.  Every play isn't for every person and this happens to be one of the plays that isn't for me.

Though I appreciated the performances and some of the directorial choices - I did like that all of the characters were on stage at all times, reminding us that the absent partner was always in mind - I felt pretty 'meh' about the whole thing.  I was a tad offended that the woman was in her bare feet, though I don't know exactly why (why she was shoeless or why it bothered me), and I certainly had no need for the silent character we suddenly meet towards the end of the play.  And the revolving stage - I get it, we're moving backward through time and a revolve is certainly a clear way to achieve that, but did the director know that the last Pinter revival on Broadway also used a revolving stage?  Is that the only way to do Pinter now?  The stage has to turn?  All those pauses are filled with subtext and moving in space?  Hmmm.  But I digress...

Although, shallowness returning, jeepers, Hiddleston is good-looking.  Oop, sorry.  He was really very good as Robert.  I could see (well, barely; I have to admit my mezzanine seat did not give me the best view) the controlled anger and the hidden hostility and the charming facade.  I just wished it had been in service of a different play.  I wasn't bored, but I wasn't engaged, and was mainly just co-existing with the entire proceeding.  I have to admit, however, I felt completely seen when a gent behind me suddenly yelled "THIS IS TERRIBLE" towards the end of the play.  Not that I thought Betrayal was terrible, really, but someone else had the same gut reaction I did.  I finally felt a part of things.  Which isn't such a bad result.

Review - Soft Power

I am obviously a huge fan of David Henry Hwang and Jeanine Tesori - they have written some of my very favorite theatrical pieces.  So when it was announced that their collaboration Soft Power would be coming to the Public Theater, I was keen to see it.  Getting my schedule (and my finances) to cooperate wasn't easy, so I was enormously grateful when the production was extended by a week and I was able to get a good seat.  I have been looking forward to seeing this show for a really long time and I am happy to report that Soft Power did not disappoint.

Soft Power is hard to define - the creative team calls it 'a play with a musical', but its complexity is one of the things that makes it powerfully unique.  It's a story about democracy, cultural appropriation, racism, head vs heart, and so many other things - it deals with gun control and white supremacy and repressed self-loathing and living through trauma and oh so many other things.

So now you're thinking OHMYGOD, how can one show do that?  And how can anyone possibly enjoy it?!  Well, I'm here to tell you, Soft Power does all that and more.  It is also completely DELIGHTFUL.  I laughed with sheer delight many times; I also started to weep several times with connection and empathy.  I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats (which gets a mention in the show, btw).  I simply loved it.   There was a feeling of catharsis and shared grief and joy, and also hope.  I left the theater so hopeful; teary, but hopeful.  I've never seen anything quite like Soft Power and that is totally part of its charm.  I'll try to describe some of the plot for you, but spoiler-y things may abound and I am ever so hopeful that there will be a transfer in this show's future.  It deserves to be seen by everyone.  It's a show for right now, but has a lot to say about our past and about our future.  Everyone, please put good vibes in the air that Sunday won't be the last time Soft Power will be on a stage in NYC.  Moving on...

At the beginning of the play, we see a character named David Henry Hwang (identified as DHH in the program), chatting with a producer of musicals in China, about writing a musical that will premiere in a new theater in China.  The producer, Xue Xing, envisions Broadway-style musicals that tell Chinese stories - he presents a screenplay of a favored Chinese romantic comedy and suggests that DHH adapt it into a musical.  There are discussions about making the work seem Chinese vs Asian-American, and how the musical should end, when DHH has to leave to go to a political fundraiser for the next president of the United States ("oh, Hillary Clinton?!?!").  They go to the fundraiser, which just happens to be after a production of The King and I, and Xue Xing gets a selfie with Hillary.  Soon after, we discover that Hillary has lost the election and DHH is depressed and unable to feel safe when he is suddenly stabbed in the neck (this actually happened, though not the night after the election).  As DHH is losing blood and losing consciousness, suddenly we're thrust into his fever dreams of a musical, sort of like The King and I, but only from the Chinese point of view.  So Hillary is The King, and Xue Xing is the I.  Sort of.

photo credit: Joan Marcus

I can't even describe how clever and delightful the musical numbers are, and yet some of them are beyond moving (the last song in the first act nearly made me hyperventilate with its beauty and power) and some are really chilling (the gun song almost made me cry for different reasons).  There's a patter song that describes the Electoral College that is so brilliant, it's unreal.  Hillary has a power ballad about democracy that was depressing in one context and filled with hope in another.  I mean, there is serious genius happening in Soft Power.  And I haven't even mentioned the interlude that happens right after intermission - we're suddenly at a panel discussion, at the supposed 50th anniversary celebration of this musical.  I won't even try to describe how meta and brilliant the scene was - trust me, it was. 

photo credit: Sara Krulwich

I think it's pretty clear that I loved Soft Power and I found it utterly delightful, devastating, unique, and powerful, all at the same time.  I will say that not everyone shared my opinion.  Namely, my seat neighbors.  Very close to curtain, a house manager led two patrons of a certain age into the seats next to me.  OK.  Let's just say they looked like typical Public Theater subscribers.  Once the show started, after about five minutes, one of the seat neighbors, let's call her Sleepy, fell asleep.  The other didn't, but I could sort of feel her rage throughout.  Let's call her Meanie.  Whenever I laughed with delight, she would whip her head in my direction and I could feel her displeasure.  Whatever.  They couldn't yuck my yum.  When intermission arrived, Sleepy woke up and the two of them began excoriating the show, in their outdoor voices.  "Worst thing I've ever seen."  "Terrible."  "They didn't even start the music until 20 minutes in."  On and on and on.  I was trying to keep my temper and didn't want to shout at them about the five-block-rule, when suddenly the same house manager came over and asked them if they'd like her help going to the lobby for intermission.  Meanie said, "Actually, we were thinking of just leaving altogether."  The house manager pleasantly said, "That's fine, too, I can help you with that."  And she led them out, with a smile to me as they left.  I think she appreciated my struggle with discretion.  Then she led a very nice older couple to take those seats.  They were lovely and offered me candy.  So...clearly, I can be bought.  I just will never understand people who have to be so critical inside the supposed safe space of a theater.  And it will always make me mad.  Grrrrrrr.

Anyway.  Back to my happy place.  Soft Power closes Sunday and, like I said earlier, I really really really hope it transfers so I can see it again.  Wait, I haven't even mentioned how INCREDIBLE the cast is - Francis Jue has long been a favorite of mine and he was superlative as DHH.  Oh, the wit and charm and sweetness of the real DHH was evident, plus Jue sings like a dream.  Conrad Ricamora was incredible as Xue Xing, as well.  Oh, heck, everyone was amazing and we need this show to continue, because this amazing cast needs to continue.  Because we need this story.  Please.