Author: Kevin Daly

The Best Original Song Oscar Goes Broadway

Tonight is Oscar night. I had to miss last year’s ceremony as I was in the process of boarding a plane to visit my newborn nephew in the Philippines. Well, I’ll be back at the television, with my usual assortment of ballots and pens. The phone will be silenced and anyone who gets between me and the television should brace him or herself for flying objects. (Those who have watched with me before know what I mean).

The Oscar for Best Original Song has been given since 1934 (when “The Continental” won) and has been awarded to Jerome Kern, Oscar Hammerstein, Richard Rodgers, Alan Jay Lerner, Frederick Loewe, Harold Arlen, Frank Loesser, Jule Styne, Irving Berlin, Yip Harburg, Stephen Sondheim, Alan Menken, David Shire, Howard Ashman and Stephen Schwartz, to name just a few. It used to be that the custom at the ceremony was to present the Best Song nominees with big names performing them, but not those who originally sang them. More recently, the composers or singers who introduced the songs performed the songs in a simple setting, usually solo. Here are a few of the telecast performances, with a decidedly Broadway feel:

Mitzi Gaynor, Georgy Girl. The song “Georgy Girl” was originally performed by The Seekers, in what would be their biggest and most notable pop hit. The song had music from Tom Livingston and lyrics by none other than Tony Award winning actor (and Harry Potter book on tape voice) Jim Dale. Gaynor seized the moment and brought down the house with her spirited delivery of the song. This performance went over so well that it inspired TV executives to give Mitzi her own TV specials, which scored big ratings in the late 60s and early 70s. Georgy Girl made a star out of Lynn Redgrave and was so popular it was a Broadway musical in 1970 – folding after four disastrous performances.

Angela Lansbury, Thoroughly Modern Millie. It just so happened that Lansbury was in LA with Mame when the 40th Annual Academy Awards were handed out in 1968. Along with some of the chorus boys from her show, the star took the opportunity and ran with it, in what was considered by many to be her unofficial screen test for the film version of Mame (which eventually bombed with Lucille Ball).

Richard White, Paige O’Hara & Jerry Orbach, Beauty and the Beast. The three voices from the animated film perform their songs live and in costume (“Belle” & “Be Our Guest”). I wonder if this is where Disney got their idea to put the brilliant animated film on stage. Angela Lansbury later sang “Beauty and the Beast” with Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson on the telecast (the only song listed here that actually took home the award).

Robin Williams, South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut. This animated film from the hit Comedy Central series surprised critics and audiences alike with its tongue-in-cheek and highly irreverent musical score supplied by Marc Shaiman and Trey Parker. (One that even Stephen Sondheim greatly enjoyed). There are many amusing moments spoofing various stage and screen musicals, but it was this song “Blame Canada” that nominated for the Oscar, and presented on the telecast in full Broadway mode.

Catherine Zeta-Jones & Queen Latifah, Chicago. John Kander and Fred Ebb wrote this song specifically for the film adaptation, which was sung over the closing credits by Zeta-Jones and Renee Zellweger. Claiming stage fright, Zellweger opted out of singing live on the telecast and their costar Latifah stepped in for the event. It doesn’t really have much of a production number (Zeta-Jones was duequality, but they throw in appropriately lithe dancers around.

Finally, this isn’t related to the Best Song Oscar, but I’d say it was the greatest production number I’ve seen from any Academy Awards telecast. It’s only the second half of the twelve minute tribute to Irving Berlin featuring Bernadette Peters and Peter Allen (I posted it in its entirety last September, part one was taken down) but it’s worth sharing again, particularly for that voracious audience response (they applaud for the last 40 seconds of the song!). This is from the 1982 telecast. Enjoy:

"Wunderbar"

Many of the great musical theatre hits of the Golden Age of Broadway found their way to the silver screen, big stars, big voices and big everything (especially with the introduction of widescreen in the 1950s). However, it was less likely that you would find the stage stars who helped to make the show a big hit recreating their roles on screen. There were some notable exceptions: Ethel Merman in Call Me Madam, Yul Brynner in The King and I and Robert Preston in The Music Man (to name a few). But for the most part, Hollywood wanted to bank on their bigger, more established stars.

Kiss Me, Kate opened on Broadway at the tail end of 1948, and was smash hit for composer Cole Porter, whose style up to that point had been considered passé. The musical was a farcical romp, using Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew as inspiration. Sam and Bella Spewack wrote the book, framing the Shakespeare play as a show-within-a-show during a Baltimore tryout. The two larger than life stars of the musical have more in common with their characters as they battle it out backstage, onstage and in the dressing room rehearsal during this world premiere performance. The leading lady’s first line: “You bastard!” And they were off!

The show starred Alfred Drake, Patricia Morison, Harold Lang and Lisa Kirk. It opened to unanimous raves in late 1948, running for 1077 performances. Kiss Me Kate would win the first-ever Tony award given for Best Musical. Drake found the greatest stage success of the four, winning a 1954 Tony for his star turn in Kismet and numerous operetta, musical and Shakespearean performances (most notably as Claudius in Richard Burton’s Hamlet in 1964). Morison, who will turn 95 this month, made only one more appearance on Broadway as a replacement Anna in The King and I. The cast made an original cast album for Columbia records in 1949, and reunited in 1959 to record a stereo cast album for Capitol.

Though Drake and Morison found indelible success with the project, when MGM got around to making the film version they signed two of their leading musical contract players: Howard Keel (who would also take Drake’s role in the movie version of Kismet) and the recently deceased Kathryn Grayson to play the roles. MGM, as is their wont, played around with the script and score. The stage libretto and Porter’s risque lyrics were toned down considerably. The famed “Another Openin’, Another Show” was reduced to underscoring. A rather bad prologue was invented with Fred and Lilli meeting with a fictional Cole Porter. To top it off, the musical was filmed for 3-D, and as a result the performers constantly throw things at the camera throughout.

I have loved Kiss Me Kate ever since I saw this bowdlerized film version. Then the show opened in an acclaimed Tony-winning revival in 1999 starring Brian Stokes Mitchell and Marin Mazzie. I listened to the revival cast album ad nauseam until I saw that production on January 9, 2001. It was my third Broadway show, but the first that gave me that transportive feeling that can be best described as walking on air. The London production was taped for TV and DVD with Brent Barrett and Rachel York. They’re fun, but it’s got nothing on the superlative original NY cast (though Michael Berresse repeated his showstopping turn as Bill Calhoun).

Getting back to my initial thought, there were many musical theatre performers who didn’t get to recreate their acclaimed turns on film. Since television musicals were quite the ratings boon in the 50s, there were many occasions when a star would make a live appearance in his or her hit show. Ethel Merman performed with Frank Sinatra in Anything Goes, Rosalind Russell recreated Wonderful Town and most famously Mary Martin was Peter Pan. The trend continues well into the 60s and 70s, but most of those productions are mostly notable for their camp value (Lee Remick as Lola in Damn Yankees, Jose Ferrer and an unbelievably awful George Chakiris in Kismet, and a ridiculous It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane, It’s Superman).

In 1958, the Hallmark Hall of Fame presented an abridged version of Kiss Me Kate (almost all musicals adapted for TV were cut down significantly) reuniting Drake and Morison. Bill Hayes and Julie Wilson were the younger lovers. Jack Klugman and Harvey Lembeck played the gangsters. The telecast was one of the earliest uses of long-form videotape and was aired in color. I’ve never seen the color video, and wonder if it still exists. But a black and white tape has survived and that has since been shown on PBS in recent years. I nominate that the powers-that-be bring it to DVD. (And for my money, Patricia Morison may be the most beautiful woman who ever appeared anywhere).

Here’s Alfred Drake and Patricia Morison singing “Wunderbar” from that Hallmark telecast:

The Katharine Hepburn Cultural Arts Center

For all the fans of Kate the Great, here is some fun news: The Katharine Hepburn Cultural Arts Center is being established in Old Saybrook, near at her family home in Fenwick. I received a comment from Ann, who runs the blog documenting the progress of the theatre arts center, which is currently under construction and poised to open in the summer of 2009, informing me about this wonderful project. The non-profit theatre organization is going to take residence in a historic theatre on Main Street in the Town of Old Saybrook, with funds provided the town and private donations raised by trustees of the organization. “The Kate” as the theatre has already been affectionately monikered, will feature a 250 seat theatre as well as a museum devoted to the iconic actress.

Hepburn, one of the last true stars of the Hollywood Golden Age, died in 2003 at the age of 96, leaving behind a considerable legacy on stage, on television and most notably on film. Her relationship with Spencer Tracy has taken on an iconically romantic status of its own. She alone holds the record for most Oscar wins by an actor with four statuettes (for Morning Glory, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, The Lion in Winter and On Golden Pond), though the always practical Kate never really cared for awards or the fuss of celebrity. Kate also treaded the boards in the The Lake (prompting that oft-quoted zinger by Dorothy Parker), The Philadelphia Story, Coco, A Matter of Gravity and The West Side Waltz (the latter opposite Dorothy Loudon, what a night that must have been), earning two Tony nominations along the way.

Hepburn is one of my all-time favorite actresses. With her distinctive looks, voice and independent personality she defied what was expected of a movie star, one of the reasons why she remained a movie star for sixty years (unlike her contemporaries, like Joan Crawford and Bette Davis who found themselves reduced to camp roles in lower quality films). She won her last Oscar as leading actress in 1982, just before she turned 75; and she would continue to work steadily throughout the 1980s, ultimately retiring in poorer health after a brief cameo in 1994’s Love Affair. Her film roles were very diverse, from literary heroines to historical figures to screwball comedy heiress to witty, urbane society women, to vulnerable “spinsters”, etc.

It should be noted that she had some of her greatest successes (and a couple of failures along the way) working in film adaptations of plays. Starting with her 1932 debut in A Bill of Divorcement, she also brought stage characters to the screen in Morning Glory, Spitfire, Quality Street, Stage Door, Holiday, The Philadelphia Story (inspired by and written for her by Philip Barry; one of the best things that ever happened in her career), Without Love, State of the Union, Summertime (David Lean’s Technicolor valentine to Venice in an adaptation of Arthur Laurents’ The Time of the Cuckoo), The Rainmaker, Desk Set, Suddenly Last Summer, Long Day’s Journey Into Night (one of her finest hours as an actress), The Lion in Winter (my personal favorite?), The Madwoman of Chaillot, The Trojan Women, A Delicate Balance, The Glass Menagerie (for TV), The Corn is Green (also for TV), and On Golden Pond. That’s not even taking into consideration those roles written expressly for her: Bringing Up Baby, Woman of the Year, Adam’s Rib, The African Queen, etc. Speaking of The African Queen… this classic has yet to be released on DVD in the United States… someone is clearly sleeping on the job here! So to whomever owns the rights: restore it, reissue it and give it the superlative DVD treatment it deserves.

Now as an added treat, here is Kate’s one and only appearance on the Academy Awards. Under an incredible veil of secrecy, Hepburn showed up (in a black Mao pantsuit and garden clogs, at that) to present the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award to her friend and colleague, Lawrence Weingarten at the 46th annual ceremony in 1974. The audience reaction she receives after a gracious introduction by the one and only David Niven (remember when Hollywood gave us such class acts?) is one of those for the ages – and so is her quip…

She was a star. One of the best we’ve ever had. Now… who’s up for a road trip to Old Saybrook this summer…?

Musical Theatre Zen

Musical Theatre Zen is a term I use for those rare occasions that a musical number is so transportative and transcendent that the moment will forever burnish in my memory and bring myself and my soul to a place of extraordinary warmth, comfort and serenity. All is right with the world. I’ve felt it when I saw Barbara Cook sing “Ice Cream,” I felt it the first time I heard “Dividing Day” from The Light in the Piazza and on several other occasions. Here is one of those:

The Music: Jerome Kern
The Lyrics: Oscar Hammerstein II
The Orchestration: Robert Russell Bennett

The show was Very Warm For May, a flop musical comedy from 1939 that failed because Max Gordon disliked a farcical subplot involving a gangster chase sufficiently turning the musical into a summer stock affair similar to the smash hit Babes in Arms, which opened two years prior. Mixed reviews and audience indifference led to the show’s shuttering after 59 performances. Kern went to Hollywood, where he continued to work until his death. Hammerstein would eventually resurface in 1943 with Oklahoma! and Carmen Jones. In spite of its obscurity, the Kern-Hammerstein score was something special, as evidenced in the recordings of the original cast that have surfaced in recent years. The recording of the “song,” “All the Things You Are,” was featured on John McGlinn’s Broadway Showstoppers CD. In context, the song is presented as a double duet. One couple offstage is soliloquizing on the verse, alternating back and forth about their repressed feelings for the other (here voiced by Jeanne Lehman and Cris Groenandaal). At a certain point in the song, the couple onstage rehearsing are able to express what the lovers cannot (sung by Rebecca Luker and George Dvorsky) and supported by the ensemble. It’s my favorite song.

This is sheer poetry (aka, the chorus):

You are the promised kiss of springtime
That makes the lonely winter seem long.
You are the breathless hush of evening
That trembles on the brink of a lovely song.
You are the angel glow that lights a star,
The dearest things I know are what you are.
Some day my happy arms will hold you,
And some day I’ll know that moment divine,
When all the things you are, are mine!

What Do You Do on a Friday Night Alone…?

I blog. Or as I already know and you will soon find out, I ramble.

Had an interesting week. I almost did something theatrical. I missed out on a ticket to the final preview of the legendary flop of the season Glory Days, the one-night stand at the Circle in the Square that came into town against everyone’s better judgment (as per the bloggers and chatterati… then came the reviews… ouch). The one performance flop is that rare phenomenon – a show with either the arrogance or blind faith that they will be a hit, not seeing the writing on the wall during previews, rehearsals, try-outs, etc. The most recent one night closure was The Confederate Widow Tells All in 2003. Aside from that, many flops try to push as far as they can, like Urban Cowboy’s rescinding their initial closing notice to run a few more weeks. Amour’s 17 performances comes readily to mind. In spite of that show’s drastic failure, it still copped several Tony nominations, including Best Musical – once again proving that anything is possible. (I believe Rags, with its 4 performance run in August 1986 holds the dubious distinction of shortest lived Best Musical nominee). It was surprising to see the musical fold so abruptly, you’d think they would have tried to eke out some sort of a run however brief. It was deemed ineligible for Tony consideration, which I think is more because the nominators didn’t have time to see it as opposed to its actual quality, however poor.

Freed the house from the shackles of the oppressive Cablevision and their evil optimum for Verizon FiOS… (Let the Marxists among you bask in the irony of that statement). So far, so good. The internet is a faster and more reliable connection. On the amazing front – I get TCM, FXM, IFC, Showtime, Sundance, and every show I ever wanted on demand. Oh the goodies. I have season three of Weeds and season four of Entourage at my disposal. (I can actually watch a first-run episode of Weeds, what? Choir of angels is that you hosanna-ing on high? Yes. Wondrous). Seriously, its just nice to feel further in the digital age. Hell, we even got wi-fi going on in here. This is some impressive technology, folks. Not to mention as all this exciting new-age digital technology was being installed, my parents were having the windows replaced. All of this happening on one of the wettest days in recent memory. Yeah, we all got all sorts of wet.

I’m uber-psyched for Sunday morning brunch. I look forward to meeting other bloggers and having a generally kick-ass sort of day. There’s a poll. I can tell you’ve all devoured the idea with ravenously reckless abandon (all two voters… one of which was yours truly…). Oh well.

Did anyone catch the 30 Rock season finale…? Ohhhhh my. Some interesting goings-on with our favorite Lemon. Only wish there were another Stritch appearance. (Does anyone else share my enthusiasm for wanting Jack to encounter Nathan Lane, Molly Shannon and Stritchie in a good ol’ fashioned Irish-Catholic Walpurgisnacht?) I’m also looking forward to the season finale of The Office next week. Oh what a weird and tragic year for the sitcom in general. Hopefully we can be spared an encore with the negotiations involving SAG & AFTRA.

I have to admit I’m surprised at myself. May 4-7 came and went and I didn’t even think to blog about my beloved 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Been a crazy week folks, a crazy week. Hopefully, next week brings nothing but good things.

Tony nominations will be revealed shortly, as will the recipients of the 2008 Theatre World Award. It may surprise you, but I’m more excited for the latter than the former. Perhaps that’s because I’ve actually attended the Theatre World event in the past and it is a good time had by all. You get a feel of that community that industry professionals talk about when they work in NY theatre. Nothing but positive energy all around – and since there are no nominees, there’s no sense of competition. As I’ve said before, when it comes to the Tonys, I’m interested in the plays and revivals, but not the new musicals. Sad to say it, but not one title that has opened this year has made me go “I’ve got to run and see this!” That’s already not true of next season, because Billy Elliot is opening at the Imperial. I am uber-psyched for this one (Elton John’s score, while hardly Sondheim, or even Schwartz, is his best theatre composition yet). And the fact that they aren’t dumbing down the show’s political undertones and anti-Thatcher sentiments makes me even happier. Other shows have got to learn: trust your audience once in a while, sometimes we can be insightful, intuitive and understand context and subtext. Then again, if we live long enough, someone might write a musical adaptation of The Hottie and the Nottie. I realize that you are laughing, but that laughter is tinged by your underpinnings of fear because you and I both know it could happen.

I also re-read Marc Acito‘s How I Paid for College and the recently released sequel Attack of the Theater People this week. (I am an incredibly fast reader: I’m already well into book three: Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris, a first person plural narrative about the goings on in a Chicago ad agency on the skids). It was fascinating to revisit the first book, since I hadn’t read it in about two and a half years. I was still in New Paltz at the time and we had a wonderful independent bookstore in town called Ariel’s (that sadly closed my final semester of college) and I happened upon the title accidentally. When I noticed “musical theater” on the cover, it sounded like it would be an interesting time. It certainly was. The characters created, while on the broad side, bring to mind many of the theatrical people I knew both in high school and college. While extreme in their actions (ohhh the reveling in crime), at heart the characters genuinely care for another (in spite of their severe aversion to monagamy). As the title suggests, you follow protagonist Ed Zanni’s highly illicit heists and capers to secure his tuition for Juilliard (master-minded by his nerdy sidekick Nathan Nudelman, who, really, is the hero of us all – and the character with whom I most identify, minus the interest in dubious financial practices). The follow-up takes us two years down the line to Edward being rejected from his third year at Juilliard by Marian Seldes, who wants him to discover life and rediscover the raw truth that was present at his audition, but never in his classwork. Many of the old crew are along as he unwittingly becomes involved in illegal insider trading, masquerading as a British vee-jay for a party planner and once again fights off his mortifyingly unbearable ex-step-mother Dagmar. A lot of the gang is along for the ride, The Music Man with a deaf Harold Hill, Starlight Express is a major plot point (and hilariously described by Ed) and we get a few new additions, the most notable being Willow the sprightly, not quite there, but lovable actress (sort of the Juilliard equivalent to Luna Lovegood). It’s too involved and farcical for me to describe, just pick up the book.

In spite of all the fun to be had, it’s Acito’s two wonderful choices in the later chapters that left the greatest impression on me. In lamenting the then-current state of the fabulous invalid, his protagonist encounters an older woman who ushered in Broadway theatres for years and years, and magically recounts the moment when the opening night audience gave itself over wholeheartedly to My Fair Lady. It’s magical. Plus, Ed and Paula have what I call musical theatre zen when they second act Barbara Cook’s A Concert for the Theater. I especially relate on the latter, having seen Ms. Cook’s Mostly Sondheim a few years ago, she remains one of my all-time favorite solo performances. Everything that he feels, my friends and I felt as well (even at 75, she could still hit the B natural in “Ice Cream” and how). However there are certain questions that I have for Marc: what happens to Mr. Lucas? Why is Kelly’s mother missing from the story this time around? and when does the third book come out? (oh, you’ve got to…)

For reasons I won’t reveal here, I’m in a very bizarre mood. When I get into this particular mood I usually spend money to make me feel better. Needless to say, a brand new laptop is suddenly looking really, really lucrative right now… Oh boy, temptation is a wonder, ain’t it?

But should I see No No Nanette on Sunday instead? Oh, the decisions… And I just realized I forgot to pick up a MegaMillions ticket for tonight. Well, maybe next time…

Lenora Nemetz

It took 24 years for Lenora Nemetz to return to Broadway and thankfully, we are blessed to have her featured in the current revival of Gypsy as Miss Cratchitt and Ms. Mazeppa (with her revolution in dance). Her hometown paper, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, has a lovely article about her career and how she got the part in the current revival. To think that she was initially rejected for the lovely-yet-not-quite-as-spectacular-in-the-role Nancy Opel is mind-boggling. All due respect to Opel, who did a fine job, Nemetz is just first-rate in those roles. I’m so glad things have worked out so well for her these past few months.

For Lenora Nemetz, good luck strikes twice at Broadway audition
Sunday, May 04, 2008
By Christopher Rawson, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

NEW YORK — Lenora Nemetz is back on Broadway and, fittingly, in “Gypsy,” because who better typifies the indomitable showbiz gypsy than the spunky phoenix from Pittsburgh?

She plays two roles, the wry Miss Cratchitt in Act 1 and the brassy Miss Mazeppa, the trumpet-wielding stripper in Act 2. And she’s the standby for star Patti LuPone in the role of a lifetime, Rose, the stage mother to end all stage mothers.

“I never gave up the dream I’d be back here,” Nemetz says over a pre-show supper at Angus McIndoe’s, right beside “Gypsy’s” home at the St. James Theatre. “And now I’m here, like the play,” she says, referring to all the yearning in “Gypsy” to get into the big time.

Thinking about it, she mists up. “As Rose says, everyone needs something impossible to hope for. But I never thought it would happen so abruptly.”
That’s an illusion, of course: it took her whole life to bring her where she is. But the call from director Arthur Laurents came after the usual showbiz experience of rejection. She auditioned last spring to play Mazeppa in Laurents’ semi-staged version of “Gypsy” in the Encores! series, but she lost out to Nancy Opel. Then “Gypsy” was announced for Broadway, and out of the blue in December, Nemetz was cast as Mazeppa. Opel was doing the national tour of “The Drowsy Chaperone,” and rather than try to pry her loose, Laurents opted for Nemetz. “I love the costume,” she says; “it has fringe, and fringe moves!”

Right after Christmas, she was called again to audition to standby for Rose. When she walked in, she recalls Laurents saying, “Ah, the ironies of life. Don’t you just love them? I guess you wanted to kill yourself when you didn’t get it the first time.” She got the standby job. And an hour later she was called back to read for Miss Cratchitt. “You didn’t know it was Christmas, did you?” said Laurents.

She came to New York Feb. 2 and started rehearsals two days later. Previews began March 3 and they opened March 27 to the kind of reviews (knock wood) that make a long run likely.

She laughs, giddy: “And I’m still looking for an apartment!”

Actually, she hasn’t had time to look, she’s so busy with playing two roles, costume fittings, voice lessons and standby rehearsals for Rose. She’s been living month-to-month, this month in an apartment provided by the producers, because of all the extra rehearsals.

In 1968, Broadway seemed Nemetz’s natural home. That’s when the young Langley High School grad impulsively and improbably landed a third-year replacement role in the ensemble of “Cabaret” — the same role she played in the national tour a couple of years ago. Her career is full of such echoes, parallels and connections.

Then, after studying at the Pittsburgh Playhouse (“Michael Bennett said I should go to school — ‘You don’t fit in the ensemble’ “) and starring for the CLO, Odd Chair and Don Brockett, she returned to Broadway to standby for Gwen Verdon and then Chita Rivera in “Chicago” (“one day I did Velma in the afternoon and Roxie at night”), before taking over Chita’s role. “I took everything for granted,” she says. “Things just fell into place.”

Over the years, other Broadway credits have included “The Rink” and “Working,” and there was a New York show with Peter Allen, “Up in One,” and at Lincoln Center, “Pajama Game.” There were also a number of national tours and plenty of work in Pittsburgh, from the CLO to City Theatre to Pittsburgh Musical Theatre (never the Public). She even played Mazeppa for the CLO.

But there were dark times, too, and a bout with alcohol, now long past. Recently, her mother died. When Nemetz comes on stage with that dusky, serrated voice, dancer’s body and 1,000-watt smile, there’s a lot of life experience backing them up.

Talking with her is a journey through theater history. “People always say, ‘You’re old school.’ Actually, I’m not: I was trained by them [Bennett, Bob Fosse, et al] but I was part of the change” — the change to darker musicals. “I can’t ever recall doing a musical comedy on Broadway — even ‘Sweet Charity’ was dark.”

On “Gypsy’s” opening night, there was a note for her: “Dear Lenora. You’re back. I’m glad. Love, Chita.” Meryl Streep told her she was funny, and she grinned like a kid. There have been many friends from Pittsburgh. Rob Marshall and John DeLuca came to see it, and Kathleen Marshall was there opening night — the Marshalls were her fans back when they weren’t yet teenagers.

And there have been many reunions. Setting the original Jerome Robbins choreography for “Gypsy” has been Bonnie Walker, the dance captain on that long-ago “Cabaret.” Production stage manager Craig Jacobs worked on “Chicago.” The list goes on. “You hang in there long enough, it all comes back to you,” she says with showbiz faith.

“Patti and I are so different,” she says. “But she’s a good friend and so supportive — like Gwen and Chita.” Working with her on “Rose’s Turn,” Laurents has “allowed me to do it differently, to be me. You have to bring who you are to it.”

Nemetz brings plenty.

"What do the Simple Folk Do?"

I know I just espoused my dislike for the book of Camelot, but I have a feeling had I been a theatreogoer in 1961, I would have been entranced by the original production. Richard Burton as Arthur. Julie Andrews as Guenevere, Robert Goulet in his star-making turn as Lancelot (and that glorious baritone stamped forever on “If Ever I Would Leave You”). Also in the cast were Robert Coote, Roddy McDowall and John Cullum in his Broadway debut as Sir Dinadan and Burton’s understudy. With a glorious cast with that score (and from what I can tell, glorious scenography), I have a feeling I would have enjoyed the experience immensely. Just try not to be completely overtaken by Burton and Andrews here on “The Ed Sullivan Show”, presenting their second act showstopper (in its entirety, imagine trying to do a five minute musical theatre piece on live TV today?)

The Lusty Month of May

Tra la! It’s May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when ev’ryone goes
Blissfully astray.

And you know what, Alan Jay Lerner is right on the money. There’s something about this month that rejuvenates a person. Obviously, it’s the better weather and the move from the dull and grey winter into the explosive fresh colorings of spring. Oh, but it’s good to be alive!

While on the topic, I may not particularly care for Camelot, but I do admire the Lerner and Loewe score very much. There are huge book problems which I can’t help overlook, and truth be told, I’ve never been sympathetic toward Guenevere and Lancelot. Sorry, but I’m in Arthur’s corner all the way. And someone as likable as he shouldn’t be treated the way he is. I know, it’s a part of the legend, but doesn’t mean I care for how its adapted. That original cast album, by the way, is a treasure and should be in everyone’s collection. (We won’t discuss that lugubrious mess that passes for its film adaptation). You can also catch the show live on PBS on May 8 when it’s presented by the NY Philharmonic at Avery Fisher Hall in Lincoln Center. The cast includes Gabriel Byrne, Marin Mazzie, Christopher Lloyd, Nathan Gunn, Stacy Keach, Bobby Steggert, Christopher Sieber and Fran Drescher as Morgan Le Fay (really…?). I’ll be watching from home, if at all.

Happy May Day, everyone!

On the next Arrested Development…

Arrested Development is my favorite TV show. If you knew me during its run, you already knew that. I was more than obsessed, I was an activist for this brilliant comedy throughout its three seasons. I didn’t catch the pilot, I picked up on the show on its third episode or so and wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it on the first go. However, I was compelled to watch it again and I quickly discovered the genius in the writing, in the acting (what impeccable casting), in the direction and in the narration.

Following the Bluth family’s exploits became my weekly haven for comedy. It aired on Sunday nights after The Simpsons and was an underdog from the get-go. In spite of critical plaudits and numerous awards, the show couldn’t gain an audience. The ratings remained incredibly low for the entire three season run until Fox gave up. Though it seemed more like Fox hadn’t a clue as to how to market the show (which probably would have had a definitive popular run had it aired on HBO or Showtime from the beginning). In spite of an Emmy win for Best Comedy Series, the network officials petered out on the final season, switching the show around, pulling it from the air without a moment’s notice (which was incredibly unfair to those of us who arranged their entire work schedule around the airing of this show), reducing what would turn out to be the final season to 13 episodes, and in a final burst of glory, aired the last four episodes in a marathon opposite the opening ceremonies of the 2006 Winter Olympics.

In what is my lone TV obsessive phase, I became ardently supportive of the show. I had AIM and livejournal icons, a post in my AIM profile about it, turned off my phone, and threw the phone at anyone who got between me and the TV screen. I even signed those asinine online petitions that aren’t read by anyone just so I could honestly say how much I appreciated and fought for this little show that could. I own all three boxed sets on DVD. Others I know became more interested in the show after it aired as a result of its exposure in the video format. I know I need to replace season 2 as a result (who leaves DVDs out of the case?)

In talking about the show, its catchphrases, its incredible moments of awkward and its penchant for the effectively absurd (it had its own bizarre logic, but boy did that logic work), I still crack up. It’s hard to pinpoint what I think is the best part of the show. I adore the characters, their quirks and the performances by the actors who played them. Though special mention to Jessica Walter for the most refreshing take on the overbearing matriarch. (And Jason Bateman as Michael the lone voice of reason, David Cross‘ sexually ambiguous Tobias, Michael Cera‘s awkward George Michael, Jeffrey Tambor as George and his twin brother Oscar, Henry Winkler as the clueless family attorney and it goes on and on and on…). Oh and I could go on about the guest characters (Liza Minnelli getting the dizzies anyone?), the recurrent plot points (“I may have dabbled in a little light treason”), the thinly veiled incestuous humor, and just the completely random bits (the chicken dances, loose seal, et al), but you’re much better off seeing it for yourself than reading about it from here.

I have just read recently that a film is in the works which would update us fans on the Bluth hijinks. I will not say anything more, since the series finale both tied up a surprisingly large amount of loose ends, but all the while opening a whole new floodgate of insanity. It was 53 episodes of sheer genius.

Though I love The Office and 30 Rock (the latter of which is the closest we have to AD today), neither come as close to my regard for Arrested. Here’s a very brief clip of one of my all-time favorite moments from this masterpiece:

This is my 100th post. I’m not sure if it’s a milestone, but I like to think it’s pretty cool.

Oh! And Happy Birthday to our fellow blogger Roxie!!

PS – Who would win – Violet Weston or Lucille Bluth…? I’d have to put my money on Lucille.