The Tempest

I'm late on posting the link to my review of The Tempest (at BAM, in rep with As You Like It until March 13) but I was both really busy + out of town for the past few days. Best thing on the SAS flight back from Stockholm today is that they had cameras in the front of the plane and under it, and you could watch the feed on your individual screen. The landing was particularly exciting.

As for the trip itself, a lot happened and I'll get into details when the time comes — a large chunk was work-related so hush for now. I'll just say that watching the fourth and last heat of Melodifestivalen (the Swedish selection process for Eurovision) live in the Land of Pop, with a plate of traditional boiled cod and potatoes prepared by the Dilettante's Special Stockholm Correspondent, will always be a cherished memory.

Mr. & Mrs. Fitch

The harder they fall. I had enjoyed Douglas Carter Beane's shows such as The Little Dog Laughed and As Bees in Honey Drown in the past but the new one is stultifying. I suspect Mr. & Mrs. Fitch might have been better -- well, not as bad -- had the leads been two gay men instead of a straight couple. If it quacks like a duck...

Clybourne Park

I've been on a lucky roll lately: The Pride, The Boys in the Band and now Clybourne Park. The latter is the new offering by Bruce Norris (The Pain and the Itch) and is at Playwrights Horizons. Forget about David Mamet's Race: This is the play to see if you're interested in such matters. Or just in very good theater. Plus unlike Mamet's turgid show, Clybourne Park is riotously funny.

The Boys in the Band

The Transport Group's revival of Mart Crowley's play The Boys in the Band has just opened, and it's riotous fun. I highly recommend getting tix ASAP if you want to see it because due to the site-specific set-up, there's only 99 people per show.

A Lie of the Mind

Ethan Hawke's thespian-packed revival of the Sam Shepard play A Lie of the Mind (1985) opened last night. If anything, it confirms the status of Marin Ireland — in a tricky part — as one of the top stage performers in town. My review here.

The Pride

There was talk of a possible Broadway transfer of Alexi Kaye Campbell's The Pride even before it opened. For once I wholeheartedly agree: It'd be great if a large, diverse audience saw this show. My enthusiastic review is here. Alas, the Times' lukewarm take may torpedo the whole thing.

Measured Measure for Measure

Theater for a New Audience's production of Measure for Measure opened last night at the Duke on 42nd St, and my review is here. I foresee MTC in director Arin Arbus' future.

Swedish Glee

The Dilettante's Special Stockholm Correspondent (soon! soon!) has alerted me to the existence of a Swedish TV show called Körslaget, which is about competing choirs. Sounds familiar? You bet!

The concept was developed by a Swedish singer named Caroline af Ugglas (whose own 2009 Melodifestivalen entry was a bizarrely intense ballad titled "Snälla Snälla") and it was adapted by NBC under the title Clash of the Choirs for a short-lived run. The Swedish version was a lot more successful, with popular singers leading choirs culled from their home towns.

Aside from the age of the contestants — and having Abba songs instead of show tunes — it's hard not to see a certain resemblance in musical approach between Körslaget and a little series called Glee. Check out Abba's "Does Your Mother Know" by Team Magnus (that would be Magnus Carlsson from Alcazar), Iron Maiden's "Run to the Hills" by Team Lotte (dansband singer Lotte Engberg) and a car-crash cover of Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" by Team Pontare (Roger Pontare, who represented Sweden at Eurovision twice).

And then people wonder why Sweden is my spiritual home…

Happy Now?

Not a rhetorical question, but the title of Lucinda Coxon's new play, which just opened at Primary Stages (review in today's paper). Maybe it was better a couple of years ago at the National Theatre in London; here, I always felt the strain of the American actors focusing on their British accents.

James Ellroy's one cranky dude

Upon the recent publication of the last part of his Underworld USA trilogy, Blood's a Rover, in France, James Ellroy has been on a big publicity blitz over there. I just got around to reading a very entertaining interview with him in the weekly mag Les Inrockuptibles. Here's my (somewhat hasty) translation of a few choice exchanges between Ellroy and journalist Serge Kaganski. (Confusingly, the French title of the book is Underworld USA.)

SK: One of the things that stick out in the book is the racism of some of the characters, starting with Hughes and Hoover, and the frequent use of racist language in your dialogue.
JE: [interrupting] I see where you're going, let me explain.
SK: Wait, I'm not insinuating that you or your book are racist, but are you fascinated by racist language just the way you're fascinated by slang or ghetto speak?
JE: Hey! You're interrupting me here! Don't interrupt me! Okay… [goes on to talk about his characters]
SK: But what's your relationship toward that racist language? Is it simply realism? Are you fascinated by it?
JE: It doesn't bother me at all. I like the various forms of the American language. I like racist insults. I like using Yiddish words. I like slang. I like hipster talk. I like jazz speak…
SK: So for you, racist expressions are a purely literary device?
JE: Ask me questions! You're just interpreting my answers!

A bit later…

SK: You like writing only about the past. It's both great and a pity. America is very interesting right now with Obama in the White House.
JE: I don't care at all! I've already said it but you don't seem to listen. I don't care about the modern world. I don't go to the movies, I have no Internet, no cell phone, no TV, I don't read newspapers. I have an assistant who takes care of my bills. I live like a hermit. I don't want to know what's going on in France, I don't give a shit! I just want to live only in the world I create.
SK: But you live now!
JE: No, wrong answer! Okay, I live now, I go to the supermarket, I see what's around me… But history, politics, the news don't interest me at all, and I'll never write about these times. So give me a break with Obama!
SK: You enjoy confirming your reputation as a conservative?
JE: Yes, absolutely, I'm a conservative. Beyond that, I don't comment on my political opinions. I don't like computers, I don't like digital technology, I don't like crowds in the streets. I like looking back and focus on something that's controlled, organized and programmed in my head. That's the kind of place where I like to live, that's where I'm comfortable, safe. But though the world of today doesn't interest me at all, I'm still very happy to be alive.
SK: You're held as one of the greatest American writers—
JE: It's true!
SK: —are you also a reader? Which novelists do you value?
JE: I don't read at all. I know nothing about current culture. I'd still mention one writer, Don DeLillo, whose Libra inspired American Tabloid.

Ellroy goes on to talk about how except for L.A. Confidential, he doesn't care about the screen adaptations of his books, he's only in it for the money they bring him, etc. The conversation switches to his stay in Paris. Typically, Ellroy sticks to his hotel and goes out only to do his promo rounds.

SK: But how can you not be interested in travel, in the pleasures of change and discovery?
JE: Sir, how to put it? I don't give a shit about all this! I love women, being alone, my fictional world, classical music, and dogs. That's a lot, and it's enough to fill up my life. Today I have a regular girlfriend, an American, so I don't ogle women anymore. But before, yeah, I looked. In that respect, there's a bit of myself in some of my characters.

Oh Fanny Fanny Fanny...

My review of the Encores! revival of Harold Rome's Fanny is in today's paper. Ooooh I had such a lovely time. Highly recommended if you like semi-obscure 1950s musicals.

Fanny somehow packs the entire Marcel Pagnol film trilogy in one show, so it really zips along. I was amused to see that the show featured the famous card-playing scene, which has become cult in French cinema. Here it is.

Time Stands Still

Believe me, it was really difficult to refrain from joking around the title of Donald Margulies' new play, Time Stands Still (reviewed today). In a reverse of the usual process, I wish Manhattan Theater Club would pick better material for the usually excellent casts it assembles — and here we have no less than Laura Linney, Brian d'Arcy James, Eric Bogosian and Alicia Silverstone (who more than holds her own).

Venus in Fur

David Ives' Venus in Fur (my review here) just opened at CSC, aka the theater around the corner from Momofuku Milk Bar. I wish there were even more theaters in the East Village — the dining options are so much better than in the theater district. And don't throw the bounties of 9th Avenue at me: It just won't compare as long as there's no Saint's Alp or good banh mi.

Horton Foote and Shakespeare

Horton Foote's Orphans' Home Cycle concludes at last, and my review of the third and final installment is in today's paper. Yes, the show requires an investment in time (nine hours total, and you really can't see just part of it) and money, but it really takes you to a place quite unlike our own.

Also is today's paper is my love letter to Juliet Rylance, aka review of Sam Mendes' As You Like It over at BAM. Rylance was the best thing in the Theater for a New Audience's overrated Othello, and now she's the best thing in Mendes' middling As You Like It. Let's hope this won't turn into a pattern-- meaning, let's hope she gets better productions, not that she lowers her game!

A View from the Bridge

It's advertised as Arthur Miller's A View from the Bridge but the way people here talk about it, the show really is Scarlett Johansson's A View from the Bridge. And guess what: She's very good in it — and I've never been a fan. More in my review, out in today's Post.

Oh, Liev Schreiber's in it too. Coincidentally we were watching Ang Lee's Taking Woodstock last night, and he popped up, all muscled up, wigged up and packing. It actually was a nice surprise to spot local stage faves like Dan Fogler, Christina Kirk, Jeremy Shamos and Mamie Gummer. Jonathan Groff plays a big part but the guy, handsome as he is, has little presence. Funny, that.

Does anybody remember laughter?

My review of the middling revival of Noel Coward's Present Laughter that opened last night on Broadway is in today's paper.

More Castle!

No, not the TV show Castle -- I love Nathan Fillion, but not enough to watch his latest vehicle.

Here I'm talking about Terry Castle. I've been a big fan for a while (see this earlier post) and so I was particularly delighted to see that the essays I mentioned a couple of years ago have been collected in one handy volume, The Professor and Other Writings. Yesssss! [pumps fist in geeky excitment] Sadly, what I wrote then still stands: As far as I know, Castle still doesn't have a regular outlet in the US, while The New Yorker's "humor" page continues to require quotation marks.

Even better, the titular essay makes up half of the book and is new. Despite being swamped with work right now, I couldn't help but take a peek, the same way I can't help lunge for a treat when a box of marrons glacés happens to be in the vicinity. Oh it's going to be so good! (I'll even overlook the reference to a "régime amaigrissante" instead of "régime amaigrissant" -- that's how much I love Castle's writing.)

The kids are alright

What a great title for a show: Once and for All We're Gonna Tell You Who We Are So Shut Up and Listen (reviewed in today's paper). Actually, it could fit many plays… I'm glad this particular Belgian import — written and performed by teenagers — stopped by NYC, in any case. You only have until January 17 to catch it at the Duke on 42nd St.

Smudge

Rachel Axler's Smudge is reviewed in today's Post. It plays at the Women's Project on W. 55th St., across the street from Alvin Ailey. The best part is watching the classes that take place in a large glassed-in studio at street level. Well worth a few minutes of your time if you're ever in that area.

Duking it out on WNYC

Tune in Tuesday, January 12, at 2pm EST as I guest on WNYC's Soundcheck. I'll argue that yes, rock has its place on Broadway. And when I say "tune in," that means you can also listen on the web, of course.

From top to bottom in one fell swoop

It's not often that I see two shows that fall on opposite ends of the ratings scales in one evening. And yet that's what happened on Friday, when I caught Jerk at 6:3pm and John Cassavetes' Husbands at 8pm; I reviewed them together in today's Post. The former is by Dennis Cooper and Gisèle Vienne, the latter is Doris Mirescu's stage adaptation of the titular movie. One is amazing, the other inept. Go there to see which is which.

Little diamond in the rough

My review of Elaine Murphy's Little Gem is in today's Post. It's a slow way to start the year, but things are picking up with the Under the Radar festival. I caught two shows last night -- review in the paper on Monday -- and I can tell you it was a showcase of extremes.

Plunging into 2010

I came up with a brief list of shows I'm looking forward to this spring for the Post. Check it out here.

Orphans' Home Cycle II

Here's the link to my review of the second installment in Horton Foote's Orphans' Home Cycle.

Sorry for the delay in putting up the link but I was (voluntarily) off the grid back home, enjoying the wild views and bold flavors of my native island. The enhanced security measures on the flight back were a doozy though: We were all frisked before boarding, and all our carry-on bags were thoroughly inspected. It was quite something to see the five-year-old girl in a Hello Kitty jacket in front of me get a full body search.

A Welsh overdone bit

Finally! Catherine Zeta-Jones made her Broadway debut last night, in a revival of Sondheim's A Little Night Music. CZJ showed spunk but lacked finesse -- but we'll always have Angela Lansbury. Details here.

The minor deity of altercations

What a difference a cast can make. I thoroughly enjoyed Yasmina Reza's God of Carnage when I first saw it back in February, but the show suffers greatly with its new cast. I re-reviewed it in today's paper.

Brief Encounter

Sounds familiar? Yes, it's a show based on the 1945 David Lean movie. There's a lot more to it, though. Brief Encounter is at St. Ann's Warehouse for about a month, and it's no understatement to say it's one of my favorite productions of the year — I gave it top marks in the Post today. Review's here.

So Help Me God!

Kristen Johnston delivers one of the performances of the year as a demented diva in So Help Me God! At last, a vintage screwball comedy done well.

Fantastique!

It is the season of miracles, all right: Fantastic Mr. Fox is the first movie by Wes Anderson I've ever enjoyed. More than enjoyed, in fact: I absolutely loved it.

I was looking forward to seeing the movie again when I'm in France for the holidays because the dub cast for Fantastique Maître Renard has just been announced: Mr. Fox is voiced by Mathieu Amalric and Mrs. Fox is Isabelle Huppert. Alas, the movie won't be out there until February. Drats!

Incidentally, Where the Wild Things Are = Max et les Maximonstres in French.

Don't race to Race

David Mamet's latest, Race, opened last night. Ayee! It's not that it's offensive or provocative — the play's too badly put together for that. Recommended only to die-hard James Spader fans.

The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter

Rebecca Gilman's adaptation of Carson McCullers' The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter left me cold. Cristin Milioti confirms she's one to watch though.

Blanchett's Blanche

Two reviews in today's paper.

First, Cate Blanchett stars in A Streetcar Named Desire at BAM, under the direction of Liv Ullmann. Starry skies in Brooklyn!

Then we have Melissa James Gibson's new This at Playwrights Horizons, with the terribly cute Julianne Nicholson.

More Christmas action

My review of White Christmas--sorry, Irving Berlin's White Christmas--is in today's Post. Lots of holiday cheer and tap action.

What is it with those proprietary titles anyway? It's a safe bet that what's playing at the Marquis is Irving Berlin's White Christmas, as opposed to, I don't know, Lady Gaga's White Christmas. And did anybody see Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire?

By the way, from now on everybody should refer to this blog as Elisabeth Vincentelli's The Determined Dilettante.

Long live the Rockettes

I'm happy to report that the Radio City Christmas Spectacular still kicks butt. And boy, does it kick! If you've never seen the leggy Rockettes, you owe it to yourself to check out these New York icons. I'm dead serious: a greater thrill is hard to find.

Fela!

The exclamation mark is in the title, and deservedly so: Bill T. Jones' Fela! is that kind of show. The first act is the single most exciting thing on Broadway right now. Too bad the second one devolves into a mess. I also cannot understand why there's zero references to AIDS — not even in the program note about Fela. Weird.

Horton Foote and Dreamgirls, together at last

It's a double whammy of reviews in today's Post. First I caught the initial installment in Horton Foote's Orphans' Home Cycle, currently at the Signature. Subtitled The Story of a Childhood, the evening is made up of three short plays (they feel more line one-acts actually) and it unfolds with the quiet assurance of a country river. The next two parts will open in December and January, making up a total of nine hours.

Then I took the A train to the Apollo for the revival of Dreamgirls. This may be the first one where Jimmy Early steals the show from the women! Chester Gregory (already spotted in Cry-Baby) is phenomenal. As times I felt as if I was watching Purple Rain with one guy playing Prince and Morris Day.

Girl Crazy

My review of the Encores! production of Girl Crazy is up on the Post's website -- thank you, Interwebs.

A Gershwin musical in November is just what the doctor ordered. Following it up with Dreamgirls at the Apollo tonight is a musical-theater double whammy!

In the Next Room

I'm not being coy in my subject line -- I'm just afraid to get spam comments if I post the full title of Sarah Ruhl's latest: In the Next Room or the vibrator play. I liked it a whole lot, the most of all the Ruhl works I've seen so far, in fact. And that cast! So awesome. It's the best Lincoln Center show in eons, and proves the company should step out of its comfort zone more often.

My Wonderful Day

You've got to admire Alan Ayckbourn's fertile mind: He's written over 70 plays and even when they aren't great, they're at least competent. That's the case with his latest, My Wonderful Day, which he also directed. Luckily for us, we get to see the British cast, which includes the amazing Ayesha Antoine. Review thataway.

The Brother/Sister Plays

Wunderkind Tarell Alvin McCraney's The Brother/Sister Plays opened at the Public last night. I was underwhelmed by the poetry of it all, as you can see in my review.

Ragtime

It's baaaaaack! Stephen Flaherty, Lynn Ahrens and Terrence McNally's adaptation of E.L. Doctorow's novel Ragtime (got all that?) returns to Broadway 11 years after it first opened. Of course I'm there too.

What Once We Felt

Ann Marie Healy's new play, What Once We Felt, opens at the Duke on 42nd St. in an LCT3 production. Despite my positive bias -- I love dystopian science fiction -- I found it just meh. Review here.

The Late Christopher Bean

The TACT company revives Sidney Howard's obscure 1932 comedy The Late Christopher Bean. Review in today's Post.

Quartett (redux)

Followers of this blog may dimly remember that I trashed Robert Wilson's Quartett after seeing it in Paris in November 2006. I actually enjoyed the show a little more when I revisited it at BAM last week (review in today's Post).

The Lily's Revenge

Admittedly Taylor Mac's The Lily's Revenge is long — about five hours — but I can assure you it's totally worth your time. I'd even venture to say it's a landmark show for the downtown scene. You can catch it at HERE until November 22. In the meantime, my Post review is out today.

The Understudy

Theresa Rebeck's latest, The Understudy, is reviewed in today's Post. I never thought I'd say this, but Julie White got on my nerves.

The crock at the end of the rainbow

Linking to my review of Finian's Rainbow a few days late, as I went away for a few days -- as in, off-the-grid away, with no reception of any kind. My, Death Valley really is "a remote and barren blister of land in the American desert.". The biggest thrill: going to Zabriskie Point, immortalized by Antonioni in 1970.

Jeunet on Hollywood

Director Jean-Pierre Jeunet has been making the rounds in France lately, plugging his latest film, Micmacs à tire-larigot (trailer here). In an interview, which I translated below, he talked about his experience in Hollywood, directing Alien: Resurrection in 1997. A bit of context: Jeunet was hired to work on the fourth installment in the Alien franchise after he directed Delicatessen and City of Lost Children; he went on to make Amélie and A Very Long Engagement (in the interview he also mentioned that Emily Watson was originally cast in the latter movie, only to be replaced by Audrey Tautou).

Interviewer: Was it nice to work in the US?
JPJ: Do you have two or three hours? It was a great adventure. I remember at the time I said it was the hardest day of my life, every day. I had almost total artistic freedom but they constricted me from a financial viewpoint, which is exactly the opposite of what I had expected. I can still hear the producers telling me, Can you do this in one shot instead of three? Can you trim? It was really reductionist. It's a perverse game. On the one hand I had actors like Sigourney Weaver who wanted perfection, on the other hand I had producers who wanted me to go as fast as possible. It was difficult to negotiate. And in Hollywood there's the good ones and the bad ones. I saw the Hollywood myth collapse like the towers on 9/11. Nothing worked. Aside from the aliens themselves, which were amazing, the special effects didn't work — I'm talking about explosions, doors that are supposed to be blasted. Nothing worked. I felt I was in The Dictator when —
Interviewer: — are you serious? I feel like you're talking about Albania.
JPJ: Yeah, yeah.
Interviewer: Albania in 1972.
JPJ: Just a bit below that, Albania in 1967. Maybe I didn't get the best crew… A symbol: my first day of shooting. The first time I'm saying "Action!" — the camera didn't work. It never did, we put it out to pasture. That was a symbol for the entire shoot.

Ordinary Days

Adam Gwon's little-musical-that-could, Ordinary Days, opens at the Roundabout Underground. Review in today's Post.

Brighton Beach Memoirs

Neil Simon's Brighton Beach Memoirs is back on Broadway, and you can read about it in the Post. Maybe it's the mad skillz of director David Cromer, but I didn't mind it at all. Speaking of Cromer: His staging of Our Town is still playing at the Barrow Street Theatre, and you should really see it if you haven't already — it was one of my top three favorite shows of last year.

After Miss Julie

What kind of an endorsement is it when the best you can come up is, Well, that didn't suck?

Patrick Marber's After Miss Julie (my Post review is here) just opened. Yes, the play is a remake of Strindberg's Miss Julie, and no, Sienna Miller doesn't embarrass herself in the title role. The real treat for me, though, was Marin Ireland as the cook, Christine. And she doesn't even say anything half the time she's on stage.

A summons to Memphis

Color me surprised: I didn't expect to enjoy Memphis -- a new musical by Joe "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change" DiPietro and David "Bon Jovi keyboard player" Bryan -- but the show's pretty great. Expectations are there to be proven wrong, aren't they?

Don't mind doing it for the kids

Coincidentally, I had two kids-centric pieces in yesterday's Post.

First, I profiled voice coach Trapper Felides, who specializes in children. I had a lot of extra fun material that didn't make it to the article, so I'll blog about that over at the Post tomorrow.

I also reviewed Hansel and Gretel, a fantastic adaptation of the fairy tale that takes over the entire New Victory Theatre.

Birdie doesn't take flight

How can you make Bye Bye Birdie not fun? Trust the Roundabout to find a way. My review of Robert Longbottom's revival is in today's Post.

Circle Mirror Transformation

Review of Annie Baker's Circle Mirror Transformation, at the li'l Playwrights Horizons, in today's paper.

Oleanna

After strongly disliking David Mamet's Two Unrelated Plays at the Atlantic, I found myself digging Oleanna, which has reached Broadway 17 years after its creation on an off stage. It's far from a comfortable ride, but any show that leaves you arguing for 20 minutes afterwards, standing on a street corner, has got something going for it.

The Royal Family

George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber's 1927 ode to theater, The Royal Family, gets revived — and reviewed in today's Post.

Countdown to pop ecstasy

Kylie. Hammerstein Ballroom. Three days to go.

Let Me Down Easy

Review of Anna Deavere Smith's Let Me Down Easy in today's Post. My, Second Stage really is on a roll. Among the larger nonprofits, they are the most diverse and the most consistent.

Laying down the Law

More positivity! My review of Hamlet is in today's Post. Considering I've never enjoyed Jude Law on screen (except perhaps in AI -- but then he played a robot), my enjoyment of Michael Grandage's production was far from a predetermined deal.

All hail Robert Lepage

My review of Robert Lepage's Lipsynch, at BAM until Sunday, is in today's paper. Maximum star rating!

Lepage has a rep as an experimental director (people often conveniently forget he's directed a Cirque du Soleil production in Vegas) but I cannot emphasize enough how purely entertaining the show is. Yes, it lasts eight and a half hours, but this shouldn't pose much of a challenge to anybody who's spent a weekend watching entire TV seasons on DVD.

That ol' Cinnabun hairdo

I love the first Star Wars movies as much as anybody else (the first in the order in which they were made, that is) but there's only so much Carrie Fisher I can take -- see today's review of her one-woman show, Wishful Drinking. I have to admit I was mildly surprised by the amount of love, or at least bemused tolerance, that has met the show. Clearly Fisher has accumulated a healthy amount of good will over the years, and she certainly is an endearing storyteller. Still, $111?

The spell is broken!

Thank Odin for Tracy Letts! I was really starting to wonder how much lower this new theater season could sink. But lo and behold, relief blew in all the way from Chicago with the Steppenwolf's most excellent production of Letts' Superior Donuts. Review thataway. I'm particularly happy he chose a different mode for his follow-up to August: Osage County.

I didn't even loathe Nora and Delia Ephron's Love, Loss, and What I Wore. True, the subject matter -- the role of clothes and accessories in a woman's life -- is just about as alien to me as NASCAR. And true, I find Nora Ephron's body of work completely toxic. But this show is painless and even, thanks to its zesty interpreters, rather funny.

A double helping of very little

Down we continue to go with An Evening of Two Unrelated Plays by David Mamet, currently at the Atlantic main stage. I saw it last Saturday, on a sad, drizzly evening. Fitting, somehow.

Mamet has a revival of Oleanna and the new Race coming down the pike this season, and I can't say that this whetted my appetite.

When stars don't collide

I really do love Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman -- why else would I have put myself through Layer Cake and Van Helsing? And forget all the Wolverine jokes in recent articles about Jackman: It's all about Drover for me!

But oooh boy, these guys have picked a right dud to appear on Broadway together. Review of A Steady Rain thataway.

Another day, another pan

You wouldn't know it from the slew of negative reviews I've been writing lately, but Ming the Merciless really isn't my role model.

That said, here's another one, this time for Mahida's Extra Key to Heaven.

Oh no, Othello

Peter Sellars's Othello is a stinker. There's just no way around it. I can't remember the last time I looked at my watch so much at the theater. I distinctly remember a check at 10:04pm, followed by another one after what felt like at least 20 minutes. Alas, I realized with despair that it was only 10:08.

Considering that this is very much a director-led staging — something I'm usually in favor of — and that it comes a few days after Luc Bondy's Tosca being booed at the Met, I was heartbroken at the idea of having to write such a negative review (my lowest star rating so far at the Post). I really don't want to sound like revisionist readings of classics faze me, but in this case there was no alternative: The show is downright inept. I will go into more details on my Post blog later today.

As for Tosca, I'm going tonight and shall judge for myself.

Killers on the loose

I quite liked Lucy Thurber's Killers and Other Family at the Rattlestick, as you can tell from my review. Both the play and the production are problematic, but it's the kind of flawed show that stays with you.

An eye on Kristina

My preview of Kristina is in today's New York Post. Benny and Björn4 ever!

What Benny and Björn think of Lady Gaga

As I mentioned earlier today, last week I got to meet two of my heroes. Check out my blog at the New York Post to see what Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus think of Lady Gaga. It's the first installment in a series of posts centering on the stuff that won't make it to the print preview about their show at Carnegie Hall. Still to come: Benny talks about the stylistic links between Abba, Chess and Kristina.

Be still my heart

I've done hundreds of interviews over the years, but last week one almost sent me over the edge. Yes, I finally got to talk to Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus -- the men behind Abba and Chess. I have to admit I struggled to keep it together when I saw them enter the rehearsal studio where the media circus was taking place.

They were in town to present a concert version of their 1995 musical Kristina från Duvemåla (simply Kristina in the English version) at Carnegie Hall this Wednesday and Thursday. Look for my preview in the Post, and I will put a lot of extra stuff on my blog over there -- which has a new URL, by the way, so bookmark it stat.

Is life worth living? Don't answer that

I'm a big fan of the Mint Theater and its mission to revive forgotten plays, but this time they kind of wrecked their latest discovery, Lennox Robinson's Is Life Worth Living? More on the misfire in today's Post.

High and low

Ooh boy, this past weekend I experienced quite very different shows, as you can see in my two Post reviews today: from the good (Ivo van Hove's staging of La Voix Humaine) to the inept (Daniel Goldfarb's The Retributionists).

At the latter, there was quite an exodus at intermission, which tells you something — and it's not good. The former took place as part of the Dutch-run New Island Festival, out on Governors Island. I have to admit I'd never been there, and I was enchanted by my little trip.

The location certainly added to my enjoyment of La Voix Humaine, but it's a safe bet to say that no setting, no matter how exotic, could have helped The Retributionists. It's an embarrassment for everybody involved.

Hooray for Oohrah!

In today's paper, I review Bekah Brunstetter's Oohrah!, currently running at the Atlantic 2, on W. 16th St. It's a happy surprise, especially considering the play's potentially lethal premise -- Iraq vet comes home to North Carolina, things don't go well, etc.

News from Ireland

My review of the omnibus show Spinning the Times, made up of five monologues by five playwrights, is up at the Post today.

Pets, not animal companions

My preview of the Pet Shop Boys' New York shows is in today's Post.

It'd be preposterous to introduce the Boys' music at this point — or even focus on their latest album since the tour is more of a career retro — so I decided to zero in on their stagecraft. If a band can bring together pop heads and show-tune queens, it's this one. Appropriately, their current Pandemonium tour is staged by an opera and theater designer and choreographed by someone with two new shows on Broadway this season.

Devil boys from beyond the Fringe

At last, old-school camp at the Fringe Festival! Buddy Thomas' Devil Boys from Beyond (reviewed in today's Post) is a shameless hoot. Bravo!

As a frumpy, horny hausfrau, Everett Quinton is sensational, but the rest of the cast is topnotch. And the cheapest tricks are milked for all they're worth -- I laughed every single time the pink inflatable mattress that serves as a door opened and closed with a whooosh sound effect. This could transfer to a small Off-Broadway house as is.

His Lameness

Daniel MacIvor's His Greatness at the Cherry Lane Theatre, New York Post, August 26.

Much more fun: The phone rang at 8:20am this morning and what I heard when I picked up was, "Hello, this is Neil Tennant from Pet Shop Boys." No, I don't know him — I was supposed to interview him for a preview of next week's PSB shows. Still, it's a great way to start the day. More when the piece comes out, obviously.

It's Greek to her

My review of The Bacchae is in today's Post. It's pretty amazing to see how director JoAnne Akalaitis could make such a gory story all nice and smooth. Well, except at the end, that is, but nobody could smooth out that end. Still, Anthony Mackie (the next Mr. Vincentelli, though he doesn't know it yet) is wonderful as always.

Uneventful

More Fringe Festival action with John Clancy's The Event, reviewed in today's Post. What's worse: a perfectly adequate but bland show or one that's horrid but perversely entertaining?

The Bronx is up and Wall Street's down

My love for film scorer Elmer Bernstein led me to How Now, Dow Jones, the 1967 musical he wrote and that's being redone at the Fringe. Review in today's Post.

Spend the summer with Georges Simenon

I've mentioned before that I regularly listen to French public radio via podcast. Of the various units of Radio France, I'm partial to France Inter and to France Culture. The former has particularly good talk shows and political satirists during the year but I'm not so keen on its summer schedule. The latter, on the other hand, can be stuffy during the year but really comes alive in July and August.

Last year, I raved about that the 16 hours France Culture dedicated to François Truffaut. This year, they're doing the same thing to Georges Simenon, with five distinct parts, each one centered around a location important to the writer: Liège, Paris, France, America, Switzerland. The whole thing should run about 17 hours.

Go to this site, which lists all the France Culture podcasts, and scroll down to "Simenon" to subscribe.

And while you're there, you might also check out "Conversation avec Losey" (Positif boss Michel Ciment chats with Joseph Losey in the late ’70s) and "Paroles d'actrices" (hour-long interviews with contemporary French actresses).

It's not alright, da

Fathers and sons duke it out in a double bill of After Luke and When I Was God at the Irish Rep. Review in today's Post, of course.

Slipping away

Daniel Talbott's Slipping at the Rattlestick Playwrights Theater, New York Post, August 5.

Escort service

Yesterday I strayed from the theater to preview Escort's forthcoming show in Prospect Park. It's tomorrow, and I'll certainly be there as Escort is one of my favorite live bands and it plays rarely. Plus the evening's second half consists of a screening of Prince's Purple Rain, which I haven't seen since it came out 25 years ago. Ayee!!!

Ballroom blitz

I already liked Maksim Chmerkovskiy on Dancing with the Stars, but after seeing him in Burn the Floor on Broadway (reviewed in today's Post), he's graduated to official crush. Still, as much as I like Maks, my head might have exploded if it had been Tony or Mark -- or, er, Lacey -- gyrating a few feet away instead.

Drum & bugle madness

I'm a latecomer to drum & bugle, but boy do I love it! Busby Berkeley-type choreography + marching band = win.

In today's Post, I preview the Music in Motion event that's taking place at Giants Stadium tomorrow, featuring seven top corps. I'll be there, of course. I'm particularly looking forward to the Holy Name Cadets, whose routine is set to a West Side Story medley.

New York's Amoralists

In today's Post, I profile the Amoralists, a newish NY company whose play, The Pied Pipers of the Lower East Side, returns to PS 122 until August 17. It's very exciting to find a new local voice that balances full-on actor physicality with great social, philosophical and political concerns. Highly recommended.

Book of the year?

A few days ago I bought Vince Aletti's The Disco Files 1973-78 at St. Marks Bookshop. It's a collection of the columns Aletti (now the photography reviewer at The New Yorker) wrote for Record World magazine in the 1970s.

If you love classic disco, as I do, this is a goldmine. There's no benefit of hindsight here, and Aletti's taste is spot-on — anybody who can gush about Peter Brown's "Do You Wanna Get Funky With Me" and Claudja Barry automatically gets my everlasting admiration. I've been spending way too much time tracking down some of the songs I didn't know and that he particularly gushes about, and so far it's been one nugget after another. Undisputed Truth's "You + Me = Love"? Amazing! This is what YouTube was invented for. I cannot recommend this book enough.

Russian-Italian axis

More reviews from the Lincoln Center Festival in today's Post. First we have Lev Dodin's Life and Fate, which I quite liked. Then it's Trilogia della Villeggiatura, about which I was more meh (a technical theater term).

Last night I saw Declan Donnellan's staging of Boris Godunov and tonight I conclude my summer adventures in world theater with a Hungarian Peasant Opera. It's been a pleasant trip overall, and I'll blog about it at more length over at the Post.

Vanities fair

Completing my trifecta of Off-Broadway reviews this week is Vanities at Second Stage.

Any musical that borrows from Burt Bacharach automatically gets a reprieve from me, but seriously: When are we going to see Promises, Promises on Broadway again? The Encores! production was fun but I could see this show a few more times.

Sinking to new lows

Lisa Ebersole's hapless Mother gets trashed in today's Post.

Demolishing a small show presented in a nice space like the Wild Project isn't fun, but then neither is Mother.

Ragging on the Rag

The dog days are here again... Today, I review the bland Tin Pan Alley Rag (a place-holder at the Laura Pels) in the Post. And there's more fun coming our way, I can tell you that.

Shakespeare on the big screen

A preview of the Walter Reade's new film series, "The Bard Goes Global," in today's New York Post. I have to admit, I'm a little Shakespeare'd out right now.

Let the Soleil shine in

Ariane Mnouchkine and the Théâtre du Soleil's Les Éphémères at the Park Avenue Armory, New York Post, July 10.

And we're off with this year's Lincoln Center Festival! Tonight I'm catching a Hungarian production of Chekhov's Ivanov at John Jay.

Navel gazing

A bit of wacky fun before diving into Euro high art as I review the new Umbilical Brothers' show, Speedmouse, at the Joyce.

Tonight, I'm heading off to the Park Avenue Armory for the first part of Les Éphémères, Ariane Mnouchkine's latest epic, with the second part tomorrow night. Surely you already have your ticket(s)?

Off we go to the Lincoln Center Festival

Rather than a full preview, today in the Post I offer my highly subjective picks for this year's Lincoln Center Festival, which starts tomorrow.

The kick-off alone should be something to behold: Part 1 of Ariane Mnouchkine and the Théâtre du Soleil's Les Ephémères, to unfurl at the Park Avenue Armory. It's Mnouchkine's first show here since 2005's Le Dernier Caravansérail, and if you happened to see that…well, chances are you already have tickets for the new one.

De-Bausched

A short piece about the late Pina Bausch in today's New York Post.

Twelfth Night in the Park

My review of the Shakespeare in the Park production of Twelfth Night is in today's New York Post.

Yes, Anne Hathaway is pretty good. Now we can all go back to discussing Michael Jackson.

Netflix reads my mind

Checking my Netflix queue this morning, I noticed they had added suggestions in customized categories based on my "taste preferences." Yikes.

These categories were "Suspenseful independent dramas" (eg Lost Highway), "Critically acclaimed foreign sci-fi and fantasy" (eg Russian Ark), "Dark TV dramas" (eg Tour of Duty and... Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman?), "Imaginative movies of the 70s" (eg Performance), "Comedies featuring a strong female lead" (eg Juno) and the best: "Local favorites for Brooklyn, NY." This last category includes The Conformist and Andrei Rublev. I'm very proud of my fellow Brooklynites!

Still, I wonder why there was no sign of "Screwball comedies starring Irene Dunn" and "Endless, occasionally violent cable series set either in ancient Rome or in space."

Anybody got good customized suggestions lately?