[title of show]. My view: a very cynical show

       Last night’s [title of show] (last row, orchestra dead center; thank you David). Having seen it at the Vineyard Theater, I was curious to see if this tiny show, in both scope and concept, could make the leap to a large B’way house. Nope, no cigar. My friend and I noted that “tos” had nothing to say except what’s on its mind right now. (I was thankful the actors didn’t mention me, or David, as coming to see the show last night.) Yes, I was charmed in the beginning with the obscure insider show-biz references. (My favorite was the one referring to Betty Buckley as ‘a hot box of crazy’.) Also as someone who did summer stock with Mary Stout way back in the mid-seventies, I felt I was in the unique position to actually know who she is. (By the way, Mary was terrific as Fraulein Schneider in our production of “Cabaret”.)

      Soon, though, I began to be aware of what was being told and what was being left out. At first the two actors were purporting to show us their process in writing “tos” along with bits of biography. They ask us to see them as ‘Show-Mo’ geeks (Show-Mo being their shortening of show-tune loving homosexuals; clever, I guess.), with lists of failed musicals as their reference repartee. After awhile though, this listing begins to curdle and starts coming across as disdain, not only for the failed shows, but of the effort it took to write them. They seem to saying why do you need real talent if you have hopes and dreams?

    What I find doubly cynical is no mention of who else is helping the writers achieve their goals. For instance, I found it interesting at the Vineyard to see that the director was Michael Berresse, a Broadway actor with a long list of credits. (Much longer than the four actors on stage combined.) How did he get involved and how did it help the writers? Just before the show started last night, my friend David turned to me and said that Michael Berresse and Jeff Bowen were longtime boyfriends (as per OUT magazine). For two guys giving us the minutia of their daily lives, I think this factoid would have been helpful. ‘Kids, don’t lose hope. You too can get a show on Broadway with only a modicum of talent. All you need is stars in your eyes, hope in your heart and make sure you are young and pretty enough to get a boyfriend well situated in the profession.’ Gee, maybe they aren’t the slackers they’d like everyone to think they are?

     Do you think I’m being too harsh? Last night on stage, I didn’t see anyone that special (there’s a good reason Heidi never got beyond the under-study roles and Jeff was in bus ‘n’ trucks), nor, did I hear anything more then cut-rate cabaret. Just plain ole’ fashion sexual politics.