Well, dear readers, one week ago I stood backstage at the Neil Simon Theater and met Marissa Jaret Winokur. We had a nice chat and then I looked her squarely in the eye and told her she would win the Tony Award. I said I felt it and that when I feel these things I’m never wrong. Well, I wasn’t wrong about any of the televised awards – I got 100% of them, including Miss Winokur. I think she wanted to believe me but I don’t know that she did. Now she knows to always listen to me. Now, the following are, of course, my opinions and you may agree or not because that is what makes horse racing. First off, I thought the show was long and lacked energy, but I thought it was better than the last couple of years. Least favorite and, in fact, worst moment, the final Def Jam Poetry (or whatever the hell it’s called) moment – totally unnecessary and quite stupid at that point in the show. I knew my pal Michele Pawk would win and I was thrilled for her. And also thrilled for my friend Jane Krakowski. I thought the Hairspray number was the only one that really came off well. I thought Stokes did okay by The Impossible Dream but it didn’t make me want to see the show. Funnily, I thought the little bit of choreography they showed from Urban Cowboy looked like fun. Not the show itself, just the dance steps. Jason Robert Brown was goony and amusing, sitting in the audience playing to the camera. Bernadette was trying so hard to stop the show with Rose’s Turn that I found it difficult to watch (I do know that some were blown away by her – but it just looked like grandstanding to me). And if there’s one aria (as Ethel Merman called it) that does not need the help of lighting designers, it’s Rose’s Turn, so the over-the-top lighting effects at the end of the number were nauseating – rather than trusting performer and material they button the number with that crap automated lighting that’s right out of a rock concert and which is designed to get the audience to applaud. This revival of Gypsy is not one I need to see and remember Gypsy is my favorite musical of all time. That said, I would like to see Tammy Blanchard’s performance. Other least favorite moments – the standing ovations for the Movin’ Out (whatever the joys of this show are they did not translate at all on television) and Rose’s Turn numbers (I guess some of the sheep also stood for The Impossible Dream). I thought Hugh Jackman was fine, and certainly not overused, but he was not a host host – not one who brought a bit of class and/or dignity to the affair, and not funny enough to be a Billy Crystal-type host. I did have to laugh at the ridiculous camerawork during the end of the Hairspray number – just as it is building to its climax and the button, the camera pulls back so far you can’t even see the stage anymore. Brilliant. And someone, someday, will explain to me what Brian Dennehy’s deal is. Award for most beautiful loser of the evening certainly went to Melissa Errico, who looked stunning. I did not see our very own Craig Brockman, but I’m sure at tomorrow night’s chat (and earlier posts) he will give us all the dirt that’s fit to hear. Worst plastic surgery award goes to, I’m afraid, Chita Rivera. Nobody loves Chita more than I do, but why did she do this to herself? She just doesn’t look like Chita anymore. Melanie Griffith was a close second in that department. I thought Mr. Banderas acquitted himself rather well, even though it was hard to understand the lyrics. I found it interesting that the band cut off some winners and not others. All in all, not the worst I’ve seen but nowhere near the best.
Earlier in the day, I’d been at a brunch, which was a nice affair. And then I saw Damn Yankees, the film, just prior to the awards. It’s not the greatest movie musical but it is fun.
I swear to you, dear readers, this bird situation is getting worse, not better. I believe they’re out there trying out for American Bird Idol – there are at least seven singing birds out there in the middle of the night, and I swear to you one of them said, “Sing out, Louise” last night.
Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below so I can get to the end of these here notes and post them.
Today I am taking the owner of the National Lampoon on a Benjamin Kritzer tour. He loved the book and he wants to see all the locations. That should be fun, and then we shall dine somewhere interesting. Then I shall be supping with my old friend Penny Orloff, who has written her own first novel entitled Jewish Thighs on Broadway, which is a good deal of fun. It’s published by the same publisher as Benjamin Kritzer, and it’s available at their website or from amazon.com. I’ve known Penny since forever – her Uncle was a part-owner of my father’s restaurant. Penny was on Broadway in A Doll’s Life, directed by Harold Prince, and she’s just a grand gal.
Don’t forget, tonight is our Unseemly Live Chat but because of my dinner engagement, we’re going to start it one hour early, at five o’clock Pacific Mean Daylight Savings Time. I’ll leave shortly after six, but I’ll leave the room open so you can all dish the dish about the Tony Awards and whatever other dish you feel like slinging. So, do come and join us for the jiggiest chat on all the Internet. Yes, Virginia, be there or be round.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, but what you don’t know is that I am really writing this in the middle of the fershluganah night because the auditioning birds are driving me crazy. That’s why these here notes will be up when you awaken. I, on the other hand, will hopefully be asleep. Today’s topic of discussion: Your complete unabashed thoughts on the Tony Award show – what you liked, what you hated, who was best and worst dressed – anything and everything that you thought we want you to share. So, let’s have scads of posts, hold nothing back and I will check in often. Then I shall see you all at the chat.