Posts tagged theater
Oh my god, Neil LaBute, what is your fucking problem?
Fair money that David Cote’s review was dead-on. But even if it weren’t. BUT EVEN IF IT WEREN’T.
Nothing makes me happier that I left theatre than Neil LaBute.
I have an essay up on Hooded Utilitarian about Clybourne Park, Eula Biss, gentrification, and bullshit that makes you think it’s actually saying something real. Please enjoy.
Just didn’t want any of you to miss out on this.
Fair warning if you ever tag, alongside your director and playwright friends, your former dramaturgy teacher the preeminent dramaturg in the country and current head of the Public Theater in a post about dramaturgy because it amuses you and surely he never checks Facebook.
So far the NY 1 red carpet pre-show is making me deaf from shouting & giving me seizures from flashbulbs. Deaf seizure Tony Awards! Yay!
I don’t think I’ve shared with you, have I, my glowing enthusiasm for what Sutton Foster is doing right now in Anything Goes, nor my (surprised) love for the entire production, and, why not mention, my ongoing love for Sutton Foster in general? Roundabout has for the first time in YEARS done something right - not counting deciding to import an awesome production of The Importance of Being Earnest - probably in hiring Kathleen Marshall to direct and choreograph, because what Kathleen Marshall does is take sweet, old, creaky musicals and make them sparkling and brilliant. What Sutton Foster does is command every inch of your attention, while dancing and singing the fuck out of everything. But even watching her and Joel Grey (duh, credit also due) WALK IN SLOW STEPS AROUND EACH OTHER was one of the most compelling things I’ve ever seen on a stage.
One of the good things about Roundabout, other than this happy accident - seriously their track record is so abysmal that I can give them no conscious credit - is their HipTix program, which offers, like, $25 tickets for folks under 35. No rush, no standing in line at the box office. Tickets in advance, all civilized-like. The seats are way up in the back, but do not worry, Sutton Foster’s every note and oddly, charmingly gawky twitch will easily reach you.
The orgy of tap dancing that ends the first act was so glorious it brought tears to my eyes. Basically a religious experience.
