Kristin Salaky - Page 12

The word 'ridiculous' carries a certain reverence in theatre circles and when Duncan Pflaster calls his new play, Prince Trevor Amongst The Elephants, 'a big epic naked ridiculous Shakespearean fairy tale play for adults,' those in the know catch it as a bow to the late, great Charles Ludlum. For twenty years, until his AIDS-related death in 1987, playwright/actor Ludlum was the major force in a theatre movement that had Brendan Gill of The New Yorker pronounce, 'This isn't farce. This isn't absurd. This is absolutely ridiculous!'

The title character - well, actually the title prop - of Sam Shepard's new entry, Kicking a Dead Horse, doesn't have to lift a hoof to make an impressive star entrance. Lying beneath a sheet that covers the entire curtain-less stage as the audience enters The Public's Martinson Hall, the slow deliberate removal of its covering at the play's commencement tantalizes viewers until we get what we came to see; a big dead piece of symbolism placed somewhat to the left of center stage. Also revealed at that moment are two large mounds of dirt suitable for tandem mountings of Samuel Beckett's Happy Days. The wide open spaces prairie scene, put together by designers Brien Vahey (set) and John Comiskey (lights) has a kind of respectful artificial beauty to it, similar to the environmental displays you might see at New York's American Museum of Natural History.

Perched above the stage in their private bleacher section, just beyond an outfield fence graffitied with the musical's title, conductor Rob Berman and his 25 piece Encores! Summer Stars orchestra might be mistaken for the conservatory cousins of Brooklyn's legendary Dodger Sym-Phony. But instead of serenading umpires from the Ebbet's Field grandstands with double forte arrangements of 'Three Blind Mice,' the musicians of director John Rando's cracker-jack production of Damn Yankees - a 1955 musical that opened in the early weeks of the baseball season that saw Brooklyn beat the Yankees for the borough's only World Series championship - treats 21st Century audiences to that thrilling sound of a Broadway Golden Age orchestra. The detailed movements and textures contained within Don Walker's orchestrations, whether giving comic accents to the pepper-upper 'Heart,' setting a satirical mood for the pseudo-vamp 'Whatever Lola Wants' or lifting a slow ballad like 'A Man Doesn't Know' with phrases that search the mind of the singing character, help bring majestic touches of artistry to this rousing vaudeville disguised as a book musical.

The last two Tonys for Best Score went to shows with lyrics that did not always strive for perfect rhyming. Is that bad for Broadway or simply an accurate reflection of what is acceptable in today's popular music? Let us know in our new poll.

The last time I reviewed the cabaret antics of singing comedians Booth Daniels and Patrick Frankfort, a/k/a Booth & Pat, the description, 'The Smothers Brothers on crystal meth,' entered the picture. In their new gig, Slow Children Playing, which has one more scheduled performance at The Duplex on June 20th, it seems the boys have upped the dosage.

I don't take pleasure in anybody's death; not even the death of someone who trampled on the rights of free speech in order to prevent funding for art that he considered to be obscene. I'm sure he felt he was doing the right thing for the country I have no reason to doubt he loved.

Our new poll concerns some of our great Broadway veterans who, amazingly, have yet to win their first Tony Award. Who would you like to see finally win the big prize? The versatile actor, John McMartin? Mega-popular composer/lyricist (and once nominated as a co-bookwriter), Stephen Schwartz? The prolific costume designer, Jane Greenwood? Musical theatre icon, and now stage director, Julie Andrews? Or pick your favorite Broadway vet who you think most deserves the spinning trophy.

Backtrack a little to the night of June 1st (or just click here if you prefer) and remember how I described the scene at the York Theatre's Mufti production of Minnie's Boys when the curtain was held because 21 people were stuck in the theatre's elevator. Well, wouldn't you know, somebody happened to have a video camera with him and recorded the scene from the inside. I'm just a little disappointed that none of these musical theatre fans stuck in an elevator thought of singing, 'I'm The Bravest Individual.'

The history of Broadway's attempts to make commercially successful sequels of hit musicals is not a pretty one. But the Opening Doors Theatre Company, now in its second season at The Duplex staging pocket-sized versions of some of Broadway's most beloved flops, can offer a fabulously fun time from even the most legendary disaster. Having premiered their Closing Notice series a year and a half ago with Bring Back Birdie, this small but increasingly impressive company headed by Producer/Artistic Director Suzanne Adams now offers a fast and funny mounting of The Best Little Whorehouse Goes Public.

After earning high accolades from its appearances in both New York and Toronto's Fringe Festivals and winning a Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) award for 'fair, accurate and inclusive representation of people and events in the media as a means of eliminating homophobia and discrimination based on gender identity and sexual orientation,' the Canadian-created BASH'd: A Gay Rap Opera has moved to the Zipper Factory Theatre for an Off-Broadway run. And while this imaginative and theatrically invigorating celebration of gay marital rights and condemnation of random acts of hatred certainly has its heart in the right place, the awkward sympathy of the story's ending prevents me from giving the show a fully enthusiastic recommendation. I'll try and tiptoe my way through that part later without revealing too much, but first let me tell you about the 90% of the show that comes off extremely well.

Plenty of musicals have tried to pass themselves off as 'the musical for people who don't like musicals' in order to bring new audiences to Broadway, but those apparent geniuses at [title of show] have figured out that there are people who hate Broadway musicals so much that they'd be willing to shell out big bucks in order to not see one. So, in a special premium ticket plan announced this afternoon, for a mere $2,501.50, you can get a great seat for [title of show] and then have an NYU student watch the show for you and tell you about it later. (You know, so you don't embarrass yourself in case Marian Seldes just happens to come up to you at Bar Centrale and ask what you thought of it.)

Eloquence without the elegance is how I'd describe Michael Stuhlbarg's scruffy, hyperactive and somewhat nerdy take on the title role in director Oskar Eustis' amusing hodgepodge of a production of Hamlet. Though perfectly placid for the first several minutes of his performance, silently contemplating his father's death and his uncle's marriage to his newly widowed mother at a downstage eternal flame that perpetually flickers its symbolism throughout the evening, he's soon wildly wringing his hands with nervous excitement, flailing his arms about in range and stomping his feet to the floor like the kind of actor he'll later be warning his players not to be. In fact, it's not until the prince starts feigning madness that he begins resembling a grown-up. It's not an interpretation that will tug at your soul, but it'll damn well get your attention without taxing your brain.

Musical theatre, at least in the popular denominations practiced here in Gotham, has long been known to preach a message of gay rights to an eagerly accepting congregation, and those who would deny the natural occurrence or the legal acceptance of homosexuality have been generally depicted as hateful, ignorant or, at the very gentlest, misguided. Now we have Saved, a buoyant new musical that tackles issues of friendship, trust and adolescent homosexuality among students at a Christian high school. And while I wouldn't say its message of 'love the judgmental, hate the judgment' would be completely appreciated by those who would fight for what they believe to be the sanctity of marriage, Saved removes the satirical fangs of its source 2004 movie and comes out a musical that can celebrate gay acceptance without making those who put their faith in a church that preaches otherwise look completely heartless or foolish. For all its snap and cleverness, Saved is refreshingly square in that, aside from a few spurts of adolescent nastiness, it depicts a community where everyone is truly concerned with what they believe to be the well-being of their neighbor.

I'm told there was a unique announcement heard before tonight's performance of Gypsy:

Our new poll is about former Tony Award Categories. Would you like to see any of them make a comeback?

Arriving on Broadway six years after La, La, Lucille, followed-up by Yes, Yes, Yvette and inspiring Betty Comden and Adolph Green to imagine a musical named If, If, Iphigenia, No, No, Nanette is the kind of delectably frothy musical comedy confection you might not naturally associate with being the stuff of legends.  And yet, quite a bit about this high-spirited romp, now getting a lovingly stylish concert reading from Encores!, has achieved legendary status.