Fringe: “The Fabulous Kane Sisters…” An unexpected, but happy surprise.

“The Fabulous Kane Sisters in BOX OFFICE POISON” is a tribute to a style of theater I haven’t seen in New York in decades. That of Charles Ludlum and ‘The Ridiculous Theater’. From the late 1960’s until his death from AIDS in 1987, Ludlum and his company helped create some of the most hilarious, campiest, sexiest, most erudite and eclectic theater to be seen in New York. I will never forget his spot-on hysterical love letter to Maria Callas in “Galas” or his hirsute, but ultimately extremely moving, Marguerite Gautier in “Camille” and of course his most famous play, performed with only his lover Everett Quentin, the ‘penny dreadful’ “Irma Veep”.

Now writers Marc Geller (also the director) and Bill Roulet (who also play the ‘Fabulous Kane Sisters’, Nova and Lana) have given us their salute to this great playwright and his large unforgettable company. While Mr. Geller might be channeling his inner Charles Busch in his Joan Crawford/Greer Garson style, the rest of the large ensemble is pure ‘Ridiculous’. This is especially true of Elizabeth West who as Romane, the costume mistress, who was formally ‘Miss Naughty Nipples’, comes out swinging her pasties-covered breasts. I swear if Black Eyed Susan weren’t still alive, West would be her reincarnation. Near nudity along with hot-bodied men, very well here played by David A. Rudd and Christian Pedersen, were once staples of Ludlum and Co.

In this world, not only is any word spared from being used as a double, triple or quadruple entendre, but no innuendo, no matter how old and hoary, is left untouched. (Sample; Lana Kane: We lost our cattle ranch in Wyoming because I couldn’t keep my calves together! Be yump bump.) Still for every two or three bad jokes and asides, there were four or five that were wildly outrageous and funny. The entire company of 15 (!) is completely up to the task of making this loving tribute so enjoyable. I especially want to commend Nicholas Gorham, who plays ‘Stinky’ the assistant stagehand without a tongue. His exposition scenes with Nova Kane were pure genius.

While “Kane Sisters…” is a little bit long at times, I seem to remember some of Ludlum’s plays dragging a bit here and there. So in that respect Geller and Roulet are giving him their due.

Thanks guys for not only writing, directing and performing a ‘divinely funny’ new play, but reminding me of the glory days of one of the great theater companies New York has ever produced: ‘The Ridiculous Theater’!

Now the bad news; “The Fabulous Kane Sisters…” has only one more performance on Friday the 22nd at 4:45. Rush the Cherry Lane Theater. It’s that good.

Upcoming Meryl Streep movies

After her triumph in "Momma Mia!"  Meryl is going to be in the movie version of "Doubt" Certainly a far cry from the über boss from hell in "The Devil Wears Prada" or the ABBA singing hotel keeper in "MM!" 

I found this photo of Meryl Streep in costume for her up coming movie "Julie and Julia" where she plays Julia Child and Amy Adams the writer, Julie Powell, who decides to cook all of Child's recipes over the course of a year.  The shoes, I assume, are to make the shorter Streep into the 6"1'  french chief.  It sounds like it's a comedy. (I hope)

For those of you who want to see Ms Streep in real life, here's a photo I took last April 14th 2008 at the Lincoln Center Salute to her.

"Damn Yankees" A very sexy show

Ever since I was a little boy growing up on the South Side of Chicago, I've always thought of Damn Yankees as a very sexy musical. The idea of magically turning into the 22-year-old Tab Hunter, and having men and women idolize me, was a fantasy that kept me awake many a night. There was clearly a homosexual subtext going on in both the play and my mind, but I was too young to know it at the time. What I couldn't understand was how gorgeous Joe Hardy could even be interested in Gwen Verdon's Lola with her vampy 'Whatever Lola Wants' number, wearing those black toreador tights while jumping around and rolling on the floor. Of course, he wanted to go home to his nice, safe wife Meg. That kind of blatant, vulgar sexuality was just yucky. To me, only near the end, when we learn that Lola was previously 'The ugliest girl in Providence, Rhode Island', did I relent and allow myself to root for this mismatched couple. Finally when Joe Hardy (or Tab Hunter) turns back to his middle-aged self and he and Meg are reunited, was I really happy, and, of course, in tears. I got to be handsome, virile, Tab Hunter for a while, but now I'm home safe with Mom and Dad. For all its flagrant sexiness, "Damn Yankees" is really just a very tender story about true love between a husband and wife.

Years later (summer 1993 to be exact), I was tricked into joining the chorus of a production of Damn Yankeeson Fire Island (don't ask how I was tricked) which became one of my happiest memories of my seasons in 'The Pines'. All at once the homosexual subtext came roaring to the forefront. We had one of the best looking and well-built man I ever met playing Joe Hardy (replete with cut-away pants and shirt so it was HE who ended almost nude during Lola's strip). A smashing, beautiful guy played Lola absolutely straight and spot-on perfect. (He had been in the off-Broadway hit Pageant.) Very contemporary looking gay men played the other baseball players. (I don't think that nipple rings and other piercings were around in the baseball of the fifties.) And YET, YET, for all its campyness and gaiety, it was still the love story of Joe and Meg Boyd, formerly of Hannibal, Missouri, now living childless, in Washington, DC that really resonated with the Fire Island crowd. Damn Yankees is a very erotic musical about marriage and commitment to one another, no matter what.

The very next year, the Broadway revival opened and many of us from the Fire Island production got together to see it. Our disappointment was palatable. Bebe Neuwirth was miscast as Lola, Victor Garber was only adequate as Mr. Applegate, the devil, (despite, being the lead, he was so under-used that the director took away the song 'Two Lost Souls' from Joe Hardy and gave it to him. That didn't work!), and Jarrod Emick as Joe was just too slight and callow to be a real hero. The rest of the ball players were of the generic chorus types. Jack O'Brien's revamped book and his less-then-solid direction just didn't work. Later in the run, the producers decided to throw the whole venture under the bus (in the now popular parlance) and installed Jerry Lewis as Applegate. Even with a free ticket, I lasted only the first act and then fled.

Now, the 'Summer Stars series of Encores' has given us a terrific Damn Yankees, which for me, combines the romantic love story from my youth with the lustiness and fun of my Fire Island days. It also, much to its credit, dispenses with the homo-erotic element and camp that mar too many musicals these days. (Don't get me wrong, I loves the homo element just as much as the next gay, just not where it needn't be) At its core , Damn Yankees is a musical comedy about loneliness, passions thwarted or overlooked, feelings of alienation and ultimately trying to answer the eternal question: "How in the hell did I ever get to be this old?". (Hmmm, now I see how I got that gay subtext!) Mixing this up with baseball, a Marilyn Monroe stand in, the Devil, a clear, concise George Abbott book and the great Bob Fosse choreography, director John Rando has given us a pitch-perfect production for a New York City summer night.

While the look of the show is strictly summer stock, that element added a lot to my enjoyment (and precisely the reason I didn't care for last years Gypsy). Damn Yankees is a show that really can't sustain a full-scale revival like, say South Pacific. What's there is there and digging too deep will not yield more gold. The twenty-five piece orchestra didn't make the songs richer, but it was sure great hearing them though. Regarding the cast, almost all got up to bat and hit the ball out of the park! (cue the fireworks and ad copy)

I do want to start with the guys playing the Washington Senators. For the most part they looked like they could actually have been real ball players in that pre-steroid era. They danced the rather masculine Fosse dances like men and not chorus boys. Blatant hetero-aggressiveness has its place, especially in the 'I Thought About the Game' number which actually came off sweeter than it might have.

Randy Graff always has that slight edge of irony which adds interest to her characters. Her Meg is no longer a left- behind victim, still lonely, but able to move on. This makes her duets with Joe Hardy all the more heartbreaking. I felt sad for Meg, but not sorry for her.

Sean Hayes as Mr. Applegate, the Devil, was nothing less than astonishing when you consider this is his New York theater debut. Here is one of the few times that television acting really translated well to the stage. He got all the laughs and really seemed to be enjoying the other actors. Looking relaxed and comfortable, his version of 'Those Were the Good Old Days' brought the house down.

The veteran stage actress, Jane Krakowski as Lola looked so stunning and sang and danced with such bravado that it was almost a shock to realize how vulnerable this woman really was. In the second act, her scene with Joe makes you realize that she is just a lonely woman who never had love in 170 years. Truly touching.

Finally, Cheyenne Jackson, as the man-child Joe Hardy, was just not there yet. I saw the third preview and he was still trying to find his core, at least in the first act. All the characters in "Damn Yankees" are 'who they say they are' with the exception of Joe Hardy. Don't forget that while we see young Joe Hardy, inside is Joe Boyd, a middle aged insurance salesman. The confused young man is there, but not the knowing older man. I needed to see both Joes. Still, like Ms Lupone last summer, I have no doubt that Mr. Jackson (who looked and sang like my dream version of myself) will eventually nail it. (Hey, he was starring in Xanadu only last week, so I'm giving him all the time he needs!)

Dare I say it: This production of Damn Yankees wins the World Series of Summer Musical Theater!

[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.

"HAIR" the Lite-FM Musical

 
       In 1967 the musical “HAIR” burst onto Broadway from the downtown Public Theater.  It was hailed as a breath of fresh air in contrast to the increasingly moribund musicals that were playing ‘The Great White Way’.  Whereas at one time the pop songs that dominated the airwaves in America mostly came from Broadway shows, perhaps only the title tunes from “Hello Dolly” or “Cabaret” had had any mainstream success by the mid to late sixties.  Since the late fifties, most popular music came from rock ‘n’ roll, Motown, folk or dozens of other styles that the ‘Baby Boom’ generation found and embraced.  Young people had their music and their parents had “Fiddler on the Roof”.  (The ‘soundtrack’ of many a Jewish household, including my own.) 
 
     “HAIR” brought the generations together for a communal love fest of peace and, perhaps, understanding.  Those middle-class parents, who worried that their sons were letting their hair get too long and their daughters were wearing outfits too skimpy, could see that beneath it all, they were the same children going though a healthy rebellious phase.  Why the music they thought of as ‘just noise’ was actually very pretty and melodic, even if the lyrics were slightly naughty.  Was it any coincidence that the hit songs from “HAIR” were popularized by ‘The Cowsils’, a band made up of family members, and ‘The Fifth Dimension’, with its two married couples?  In 1967, “HAIR’s” most provocative claim to fame was that it featured some of these kids taking off all their clothes on stage!  (Gasps and titters, ‘Look Maude, boobs!’) 
 
The other ‘revolutionary’ thing about “HAIR” was that it had no real plot to speak of, just a series of charming, sometimes off-color ditties, kinda addressing the major dilemma of the time, the Vietnam War.  Should our nominal hero, Claude, burn his draft card in protest or will he give in to parental pressure and shape up?  Mix nudity, soft rock music, and a provocative theme together, and Broadway finally had its entre into the ‘Baby Boom’ generation.  Of course, it couldn’t offend its core audience too much or else they would stay away, insulted and hurt.  “HAIR” has it both ways.  Sort of a Toostie Roll pop musical.
 
                  I remember thinking this, when I first saw “HAIR” in Chicago in 1968 at the Shubert Theater, with my then girlfriend Paula.  There was a real inconsistency with what was happening onstage (and in those scary aisles where dancers would approach us in character), and the fact I had paid $11.50 a ticket to sit in a beautiful gold rococo auditorium in deep blue velvet cushioned seats.  By the end though, I had given in to the cheerfulness and camaraderie of  “HAIR” and Paula and I ended up on stage singing and dancing ‘Let the Sunshine In’ with pure joy and excitement.  Several months later, Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated and the Democratic National Convention was rocking my Chicago.  The next year “Woodstock” took place (no I was not there) and the real ‘soundtrack for a generation’ came about.  “HAIR” quickly became a period piece.  Last year’s news.
 
                   Now “HAIR” is playing in Central Park at the Delacorte Theater where I caught it last Friday night.  Because it was not only free, but also a beautiful summer night, I was able to sit back and look at “HAIR” as a revival of a famous Broadway show, much like “No No Nanette” was.
 
The ‘story’ revolves around two friends, Berger, the rebellious high school senior, played by Will Swenson (straight from the ‘Stockard Channing High School’) and cautious Claude, performed beatifically by Jonathan Groff in his most disarming boyish style.  They, along with their friends, hang out in Washington Square Park, singing and dancing the joys and woes of being young and pretty in a turbulent world. Perhaps the most non-traditional aspect of “HAIR” is the fact that there isn’t a love story that the audience could focus on, no matter how tangentially. (Zack and Cassie anyone?)  Smartly, the director Dianne Paulus, has not tried to link the ’67’ Vietnam Conflict with the current war in Iraq.  Instead what we get is a large group of youngish good-looking actors playing their version of 60’s ‘hippies’.  They are all adorable.  For most of the time it was like watching “The Puppy Bowl” (Each year, on the day of the Super Bowl, Animal Planet shows lots of puppies playing in a yard constructed to look like a stadium.  The effect is very calming.)
 
Galt MacDermot’s music with lyrics by Gerome Ragni and James Rado hark back to a time when Broadway actually thought it was being radical by giving us a soft rock beat with bawdy, racy words.  (Though the other night I found myself singing Claude’s first act finale song “Where Do I Go” and ended up with “Sweet Charity’s” big second act number “Where Am I Going?”  Try keeping those separate in your mind, I dare ya.)  It was a pleasure listening to all the familiar hit tunes like some kind of K-Tel record ‘Treasures from the Summer of Love’.  (Missing only ‘When You’re Going to San Francisco’)
 
I loved looking at all the sixties-style costumes that have since gone in and out of fashion several times over in the last forty years, and it was cool to see the same bell-bottomed jeans with flower patches that I remember wearing in high school.  (In full disclosure, my parents owned the largest bead and novelty store in Chicago and this exploding fashion allowed them to go from lower middle-class to a very comfortable middle-class, thank you “HAIR” very much!)
 
The great Modern choreographer, Karole Armitage, creates dances that are a wonderful merging of innocent street-life and high Broadway style.  Her way of grouping the large cast made me wish that the movie producers of “Momma Mia!” had spent a few bucks and done the same to those flat-footed island villagers. 
 
Like the recent “Damn Yankees”, “HAIR” doesn’t have much more on its mind then giving us an enjoyable summer night, this time in Central Park.  Unlike forty years ago, I didn’t feel the same queasy condescension, though there were two discordant notes that seem to be inherent in any production of the show.  First, the second act begins to slow down to a crawl, as our puppies start tiring out.  Secondly, the heavy-handed irony of the protagonist, Claude, whose first act anthem is “I Got Life”, becomes representative of all the young men who decide that it’s better to man-up and go to war than to live in a confusing world of moral ambiguities and decadence.  This leads to his death, and Claude’s body on an American flag is the last visual we see.  He is alone under a spotlight, devoid of friends and family. 
 
Could this be the response of the creators of “HAIR” to America’s inability to separate the Viet Nam War from its soldiers in the sixties and early seventies?  Gee thanks guys, I’m feeling crappy.  Fortunately the moment passes very quickly and we are back to ‘Let The Sun Shine In’.  And, wouldn’t you know it, just like I did forty years ago in Chicago, I and my friends rushed onto the stage, sang loudly, danced badly and left the Delacorte Theater happy.
 
“HAIR” really didn’t change much in the world of Broadway.  The winner of best musical the year it opened was “1776” and the next year it was “Applause”!!!  Musicals were determined to stay put, smack in the middle of the 20th Century, and it’s only recently that they are being dragged into the 21st..  But “HAIR” is still a pleasant way to spend a warm summer night under the stars.    
 
 

The Worst of the 'Fringe': "Naked Dead Elephant..."

Since 'Fringe' shows only last for 5 performances, I usually don't like to comment on them, but last weekend I saw what had to be the bottom of the barrel for even the 'Fringe' (and that's going some).  Titled "The Naked Dead Elephant in the Room" and written (?) and directed (??) by someone named Larson Rose, this piece of sixth grade garbage manages to be not only sexist and very racist, ultimately homophobic. (Perhaps Mr Rose couldn't figure out Anti-Semitism.) His point of reference is clearly [title of show] and he even manages to bungle that.  The plot, such that it is, is about a young playwright pounding on his laptop and talking to an unseen audience (us). He has to write a play quickly and doesn't know what to write about.  How's that for original!  His sex fantasies keep interrupting him and, yes, we see them played out.  Rose seems to not only have contempt for his intended audience (I presume old gay men), but for actors also. What he seems to be saying in his own inept way, is that gay men will see anything with 'Naked' in the title and actors are such whores that they will agree to do anything (really anything!) to be cast.  At 45 minutes, this show manages to be utterly offensive and deadly, deadly dull!