EXTRA CRITICUM

Hello, Wall-E, yes Hello, Wall-E, it's so nice to see you!

In spite of being a robot designed to clean-up a planet earth devastated by waste and evacuated of human beings over seven hundred years ago, Wall-E can appreciate a good tune.  Indeed, Wall-E is a hopeless romantic with a cockroach for a pet.  Like many of us, he is also a constant collector of junk.  He loves old toys, silverware, lightbulbs, and finds the box holding a diamond ring much more intriguing than the ring within.

Newsflash? New Play Development Sucks!

This just in from the Washington Post. Newsflash: New Play Development has reached new heights of absurdity in this country!

Of course us 'wrights have known this for years but it's comforting to see the issue out front and center. The Post article, by Nelson Pressley begins with a pretty scathing (but well-deserved) point.

Thummer Thtock

Rabbit Hole by David Lindsay Abaire. New Century Theatre, Northampton, MA.

First time I’ve seen this piece. First time I’ve had the opportunity to see anything by this celebrated writer. I’m always curious to see what is bringing critical and commercial success to my colleagues. Accent on the commercial. What is it that producers are buying? What are subscription audiences being programmed to adore?

Of course I’d heard brilliant things about DLA and this play, and I was expecting to be dazzled. I wasn’t—although the production here is solid in most every way. I just kept waiting for the play to arrest me somehow, show me something new or startling, lead me somewhere I haven’t been before. I waited in vain.

 

One Shot From Spirit of the Beehive

I’ve seen Spirit of the Beehive several times, and frankly, I know it’s about something more than a family in a remote Spanish village in 1940, but what that more is I can’t exactly say. I’ve read the Wikipedia entry, I’ve watched the Criterion Collection extras and read the booklet. I know all about its veiled indictment of Generalissimo Francisco Franco, I get the Frankenstein reference. I know its history, and how the cinematographer was losing his sight during shooting, and I feel for Ana Torrent, the cherubic child actress who looks like she just walked out of a Margaret Keane painting; she never quite had the career she should have.

But what I don’t know about the film compels me to watch it over and over.

Straight Man Comes Out - Why I Love Project Runway

Unlike most people who claim to hate reality shows, I actually do. This is not snobbishness - I watch plenty of crap on TV (mine is just more sports-related).  I just don't get reality shows. I don't think they're fun. They give me a headache.

Except Project Runway.

So America Can't Handle Satire? — Michelle, Barack and The New Yorker

I’d like to put my two cents in about the furor that has arisen over this week’s cover of The New Yorker.

For those who haven’t seen it, the cover shows Barack Obama and his wife in the Oval Office. Obama is dressed in Middle Eastern garb, while Michelle is dressed as a black militant - huge afro, her chest criss-crossed with ammunition. An American flag burns in the fireplace. A picture of Osama Bin Laden hangs prominently. They are doing an affectionate fist bump.

This obviously satirical cover has been the cause of much wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth on the Left.

Mamma Mia! — Avant-Garde Cinema at the Multiplex?

Have you been avoiding Mamma Mia like the plague? Well, don't. This riotous adaptation of the Broadway musical no one could have paid me enough to see is so visually experimental, you might have to blink twice to remember that the cast includes Pierce Brosnan and Meryl Streep and the film's budget is reported to be $66 million. (Of course a reported budget of $66 million is probably an actual budget of $40 million, but that's still a helluva lot bigger than, say, Zero Patience, John Greyson's totally irreverent AIDS musical from the early '90s, to which this film owes a great debt.

In fact, I'd say this ABBA musical shares more in common with Greyson's than it does with higher budget musical fare such as Evita and Chicago, both of which go out of their way to make absolutely certain that the meaning (even when it involves irony) of the musical's lyrics are crystal clear, with no room for ambiguity.

"High Concept"— Choking American Theatre to Death

Over the past year or so, I've found myself at numerous festivals of short plays all over town. This is what happens when you live in New York long enough and you happen to work in the theatre. Your friends end up popping up here and there and everywhere. And so you go, and go, and go. Of course, it's generally hit or miss, but if we want to call ourselves a community, I think the least we owe each other is to show up to support new work.

Lately, I've been wondering why I find so many of the new plays I see—not just the short ones—so fundamentally unsatisfying. Am I just a jaded jerk? (Well, if I am, would one of you please just tell me and put an end to my flailing?)

Seriously though, I think I may have figured out what's up. I think the

Developing New Musicals

We all know that getting a musical right is far more difficult than with a straight play. The medium of a play is very forgiving (if not encouraging) of experimentation. But with a musical, every piece of the puzzle needs to fall into place just so. Maybe that one song seems superfluous, and you want to cut it, but then you have two ballads in a row and the audience momentum gets hurt. Or maybe you want

Ladies & Gentlemen, Please Behave Yourselves!

Last night my boyfriend and I had the pleasure of seeing Taylor Mac perform his The Young Ladies Of... at HERE Performing Arts Center. Now, boys and girls, I am old enough to have directed a show at HERE back before HERE was fancy enough to assume the "Performing Arts Center" suffix. I remember the HERE where before each night's performance,

To Dream The Impossible Dream—ad-free TV

This morning on the Stairmaster at my gym, I decided to watch some TV and was surprised to discover that virtually every channel available was offering advertising in the guise of real content. On one network (I can't recall which) an editor for Travel & Leisure was being interviewed by the host about great travel resorts in the U.S. that are inspired by European destinations. The interviewee was sure to include

Sondheim Light—All Dressed Up & Going Nowhere

Let me start by stating for the record that I am a great admirer of the music and lyrics of Stephen Sondheim. No living songwriter approaches his level of intelligence, wit and grace that operate on all levels—the harmonic, melodic and lyrical. He is a genius.

Having said that, I am convinced that he has (indirectly) done more damage to the current landscape of new musical theatre composition than any other composer.

"Assassins" and Barack Obama

Assassins, the Stephen Sondheim musical about the many Americans compelled to shoot at presidents, is being produced in Boston, and the Globe's Megan Trench reports that the mother of one cast member isn't thrilled about its timing.

Brush Up Your Cole Porter

I thought Cole Porter was still pretty well-known among young people (well, at least young gay men), so I was disappointed to discover that my 44-year-old body was younger than all but three or four people at When It's Hot, It's Cole, a revue by members of the American Repertory Theatre up here in Boston/Cambridge. The dozens of cabaret tables were full, but it was a pretty grim crowd. Think of William Howard Taft sitting next to Margaret Dumont, and multiply the image 100 times, and you'll get the idea. I couldn't believe that

Base Runs vs. Home Runs—The New Distribution Landscape

During the holiday weekend, I happened to pass by the Quad cinema on 13th Street about 3 or 4 times, once to actually buy a ticket and see something.

What struck me immediately was that no matter when I happened to be walking by—Friday evening, Saturday afternoon, Sunday afternoon, etc.—there was a line winding its way out onto the sidewalk, the likes of which I haven't seen at this movie theatre since my own film played there in 1999.

And the same was not true at the multiplexes down the street.