Oscar E Moore

This won’t take long.  Much shorter than the two act, two hour and forty minute excruciating exercise on view at The Connelly Theatre on East 4^th Street co-authored by Zuzanna Szadkowski and Deborah Knox seemingly massaging both egos.

Thankfully there was an intermission that allowed a few patrons less intrepid than I to escape the mostly incomprehensible, ridiculous, dreary goings-on.

Szadkowski (Lizzie/Nora) and Knox (Lizzie’s maid/Sharon Tate are both better actors than writers in this incoherent, absurd throw everything into the pot (including lots of blood and spaghetti) and see what happens, difficult to follow tale of Lizzie Borden (ACT 1) and Nora of A Doll’s House fame (Act 2) with a dash of Tate thrown in for good or should I say bad measure?

I really wanted to see this production at The Connelly Theatre on East 4^th Street between Ave A and Ave B directed by Eric Tucker after his outstanding work on PERSUASION (9/29/21) and received the confirmation just hours before the Saturday matinee performance 3/4/23.

An extremely disappointing afternoon with the living dead.  Not since the infamous MOOSE MURDERS have I been so flummoxed by a supposedly riotous production.  FALL RIVER FISHING is a very solemn affair.  Too long.  Too disjointed.  Too bad.

After attempting to concentrate I finally had to give up.  It didn’t matter what happened to these unlikable people.  Couldn’t care less.

But the acting was fine.  Indeed, more than fine.  Included in the five member cast are Susannah Millonzi, Tony Torn and Jamie Smithson who appeared in the aforementioned PERSUASION.  And an all-important small brass dinner bell.

Just hard to connect.  The authors certainly have a lot to say in a rather psycho analytical confessional mode.  Not funny.  Nor satirical.  Just long.   Good theater stems from good writing.  The words influence all.  Without good words there is nothing.

Good theater should inform via story and character.  Aiming to enlighten, to connect and to entertain.  To pleasantly surprise.  Not bore an audience into checking their watches every five minutes or so.

Where is Charles Ludlam when you need him?  Just imagine what he would have made of Lizzie and Nora and Sharon!

CLOSING 3/9/23 MASKS NECESSARY

www.Bedlam.org

PHOTO:  NY TIMES

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Never leave dirty dishes in the sink.  Always make your bed.  And if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t!  But certain rules are made to be broken.  Right?  So here goes.

PICTURES FROM HOME is not a play.  It is a project.  Not even a good project.  Based on a book by Larry Sultan.  A very successful book of photos of its author’s parents: Irving and Jean Sultan with interviews and comments and, of course, the numerous photos and home movie clips regarding their relationship taken and recorded over an eight year period in the 80’s.

Yes, EIGHT YEARS!  He visited them on and off weekends away from his wife and child to gather info and unearth the subtext of their dismal lives.  Which doesn’t come across clearly in this production.  Turn the photo over and what to you see?  Nothing.  And unfortunately that is what you come away with at STUDIO 54.

A much too large space for an intimate three character play.  I mean, project.  With three talented and surefire box office stars:  Nathan Lane, Danny Burstein and Zoe Wanamaker and first-rate director Bartlett Sher.  It does not work.  Not well constructed nor well written with lackluster direction.  The villain appears to be adapter/writer Sharr White.

Without intermission PICTURES FROM HOME seems like a three hour, soap opera, sitcom saga.  Lots of over the top screaming from Nathan.  Lots of surprising “fuck this and fuck that.”  An altogether unlikable portrayal.  In fact, it was almost impossible to get his grating voice out of my mind afterwards.  A disappointing one note performance.

Much is made of Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People.  Irv (Nathan) was an on the road salesman but the character on stage does not seem to have followed what preacher Carnegie preached.

From son Larry (Danny) – lots of smiling and pensive ponderings.  And lots of busybody work by mama Zoe and scampering around the large true to life replicated period lime green setting (Michael Yeargan) as they, each in turn, talk to us, the audience, as if we were best friends and neighbors allowing our minds to wander thither and yon as the tired saga slowly unfolds.  It is just plain boring.

I kept imagining first Alan King with his cigar and standup Ed Sullivan act.  Then Jerry Stiller as dad and Ben Stiller as his son.  That would have been interesting.

My best advice is to stay home and revisit your own family photo history.

At STUDIO 54.  1 hour 45 minutes.  No intermission.

www.picturesfromhomebroadway.com

PHOTO:  Julieta Cervantes

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This new musical adaptation of the classic Billy Wilder 1959 comedy starring Jack Lemon, Tony Curtis and Marilyn Monroe should be herewith subtitled – Thoroughly Modern Daphne or How Jerry/Geraldine aka Daphne finds her inner true self and lives happily ever after.

After all, J. Harrison Ghee, tall, lanky, totally honest and believable comes out smelling like roses as Daphne and is the true breakout star of this valiant but flawed show.   They all try so hard.  Too hard.  That’s one of its problems.

Also it is a case of too many cooks spoiling the broth business.  Everyone and their moms seem to have given their individual input – including Christian Borle (additional material).  Book by Matthew Lopez and Amber Ruffin (sometimes amusing; hardly uproarious).  Music by Marc Shaiman (I defy anyone to remember one tune).  Lyrics Scott Wittman & Marc Shaiman (repetitive hooks).  The songs are bombastic to the eardrums and immediately forgettable.  Only a constant rhythmic throbbing echo remains.

There is a calculated creative attempt to lure both a young liberated audience along with the older folks with good old fashioned Broadway razzmatazz.  This co-mingling of classic Wilder and new wave woke is a strange match.

Daphne wins.  Along with her newfound love Osgood.  A wily, zany, lovable, scene stealing and altogether charming Kevin Del Aguila who at times seems to be channeling Michael Jeter from Grand Hotel.

But I am getting ahead of myself.  Chicago.  The depression.  Joe plays the sax.  Does magic.  Jerry plays an upright bass.  They are buddies.  Looking for work.  Unfortunately they witness a gangland killing and need to escape the thugs.  They do so by donning drag, becoming a dowdy Josephine and a delightful Geraldine right before our eyes until Geraldine decide she is Daphne.

They are hired by Sweet Sue (NaTasha Yvette Williams – a big brassy mama, protective of her all girl band where its star attraction is Sugar Cane (a comely Adrianna Hicks who can BELT to the rafters).  They are on their way to California via train.  Unfortunately a repetitive and somewhat boring “I’m California Bound” not “On the Atchison Topeka and the Santa Fe”.  And so the chase commences.

Finally (and I do mean FINALLY) arriving in California where we meet Osgood and Osgood meets Daphne and Joe/Josephine pursues Sugar as Kip von something or other with a fake German/Austrian accent influenced by Mrs. Malaprop where the chase continues.  Tapping right along.  To Mexico where Osgood woos Daphne with a mariachi band in tow.  Still with me?

Aided and abetted by director/choreographer Casey Nicholaw whose frenetic pace and bombastic delivery of songs becomes almost numbing while wearing out its welcome much too soon.  The numerous numbers had my mind wandering – not a good thing – thinking how all could be improved or what they reminded me of.  Despite the colorful costumes of Gregg Barnes and Deco set by Scott Pask.  Shame on Brian Rohan’s sound design – louder is not better!

All this havoc culminates with a Jerome Robbins/Keystone Kops inspired hectic, door slamming thugs and bellhop and everyone else tap dancing finale.  But not before we have three 11 o’clock numbers for each star that are a bit much of a not so good thing.

SOME LIKE IT HOT is well intentioned but not so terrific in its execution.  No pun intended.  I absolutely adored Daphne.

2 hours thirty minutes with one intermission.  MASKS are advised and encouraged.

PHOTOS: MARC J FRANKLIN

For old times sake:

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For this we waited 58 years to see back on Broadway?!  Summer Stock is alive and faltering at the August Wilson Theatre where this extremely disappointing revisal of FUNNY GIRL has recently opened.

OK.  Beanie Feldstein (age 29) is not Barbra Streisand the original Fannie Brice when she was twenty two and instantly became a STAR. The only thing they have in common is that they are both Jewish.  Had I never seen the original production in 1964, had I never heard Streisand sing, I would still wonder how in the world this newest two and a half hour with one intermission adaptation came into being.

When Beanie Feldstein whose previous claim to fame is portraying Monica Lewinski in Impeachment:  American Crime Story and Minnie Fay in Bette Midler’s 2017 HELLO DOLLY is chosen for an important classic role made famous by Streisand producers should have looked beyond popular ticket sales.

Beanie does have a following as evidenced by the audience’s wild reaction to her cavorting and mugging on stage.  But can she handle this starring role? Nope.  It is far beyond her capabilities.  Especially in the singing department.  She works very hard – in overdrive.  Enjoying every single moment on stage.  But she is simply not believable as Fanny Brice.  She isn’t natural.  We see the technique working.  Belting and holding a note does not a singer make.

She isn’t helped with the sound design (Brian Ronan) which is hurtful to the ear drums.  Nor by the garish Las Vegas looking costumes (Susan Hilferty).  Ditto on the eyes.  Nor the set design (David Zinn) whose centerpiece of a circular brick wall that opens to reveal other locations reminded me of the Tower of London.

And the entire production is handicapped by its in and out meandering direction by director Michael Mayer.

Is there anything I admired you may ask?  Yes.  The score by Jule Styne and Bob Merrill is still one of the best.  It would be hard to ruin People, and Don’t Rain on My Parade and The Music That Makes Me Dance but Beanie comes close.

Harvey Fierstein has done his best to rearrange and make sense of the original libretto by Isabelle Lennart.  But it becomes a hodgepodge of quick scenes and short reprises with eye popping flashing neon lights every so often.

Jane Lynch does a good job with Fannie’s mom.  Funny.  Great timing.  We see that she would much rather be performing on stage like her daughter than playing poker with her neighborhood chums.

Ramin Karimloo as Fannie’s love interest the gambler Nick Arnstein sings well and thanks to Harvey Fierstein has been given a lot more to do.  Highlight:  Duet with Beanie – Who Are You Now?  But…

Finally, Jared Grimes as Fannie’s buddy Eddie Ryan almost stops the show with his star turn tap dancing number courtesy of Ayodele Casel – a most welcome relief.

Favorite musical number – Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat.

Now what’s with the large golden bow atop Beanie’s I mean Fannie’s head shown on Playbill’s cover that never appears on stage?

Photo ID.  Proof of vaccination.  MASK UP.  www.funnygirlonbroadway.com

NOTE:  Ramin Karimloo has tested positive for COVID and will be out for 10 days

Photos:  Matthew Murphy

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There is a good reason why Neil Simon was known as The King of Comedy.  And one prime example is on view at the resplendent Hudson Theatre where a slew of his theatrical posters – plays and musicals – are displayed in the lobby where PLAZA SUITE which originally opened in 1968 has taken over in a limited run.

Three acts.  Three couples.  Marital woes.  One hotel suite.  Bravo John Lee Beatty!  One intermission.  One pause.  Plenty of laughs.

And live and in person.  One married couple.  Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick.

Two Broadway Babies.  All grown up.  Married to one another and their careers.  And very famous.  Not exactly Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne.  More like Sid Caesar (with all due respect to Mr. Caesar) and Imogene Coca from Your Show of Shows where Neil Simon sharpened his wit.

Sarah Jessica Parker is a trouper; hubby…a party pooper.  His trademark boyish charm is still there but waning.  Somehow inappropriate.  She is phenomenal.  A blast from comedy heaven past.  Honest, straight forward with perfect timing and delivery.  Looking as stylish as one can look in 60’s retro outfits by Jane Greenwood.  She surpassed my expectations.  He did not disappoint, turning in yet another lackluster, blasé, I couldn’t care less yet adequate performance.  Best as the slimy Hollywood producer attempting to seduce his years ago high school sweetie from Tenafly who knows how to handle her bottomless vodka stingers.

Beneath the laughter which is almost nonstop and madcap shenanigans (adroitly directed by John Benjamin Hickey) there is an underlying sadness, loneliness and seething anger in this marriage on the rocks threesome.  No one is happy.  Or content.  Still looking for the magic pill called happiness.

Infidelity, excessive drinking, lying and that nasty thing that somehow grows over the years between married couples – the blame game.

Whether they are from Mamaroneck or Hollywood or Tenafly, New Jersey or Forest Hills the inhabitants of Suite 719 at The Plaza share the same malaise.  With great relish.  And plenty of laughs.

I recommend taking this historical and hysterical time capsule journey – a fond memory for some and an informative look into the past for newcomers.

Thanks for the memories!  www.plazasuitebroadway.com

Photo ID.  Proof of vaccination.  MASK UP!

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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I’d like to propose a toast!  To celebrate!  Here’s to the entire cast, from superstars Hugh Jackman & Sutton Foster to ensemble players to understudies; to all those backstage helpers, “mask up” ushers, designers, musicians and most of all director Jerry Zaks and choreographer Warren Carlyle that make this rejuvenated and  reinvigorated revival of Meredith Willson’s THE MUSIC MAN one of the most joyous experiences in musical comedy folklore.  Ever.

This is not your run of the mill carbon copy revival.  This revitalized MUSIC MAN has an identity all its own.  It is simply sensational.

July 4^th, 1912.  Professor Harold Hill, traveling salesman/con man extraordinaire, arrives via train in River City, Iowa pretending to be a band instructor; attempting to convince its citizens to contribute funds for instruments and uniforms by spreading the word that their young boys are being seduced into sin and vice by the town’s new pool table – and then vamoose with the funds.

But then a certain Miss Marian the librarian/piano instructor has caught his eye and he decides to woo her.  However, they do not see eye to eye.  They are more like Shakespeare’s bickering Beatrice and Benedict whom we know will eventually wind up together.

From the Grant Wood Americana inspired scenic backdrops by Santo Loquasto who also designed the many simple down home costumes to the colorful garish gowns worn by certain gossipy ladies fond of elaborate hats, Mid-West America is shown in its best or rather its natural period light.

THE MUSIC MAN is the perfect panacea for these deeply troubled times albeit an expensive one.  Tickets can go for over five hundred buckaroos.  Each.

But this splendid, exciting, romantic, beautifully paced and amusing show is chock full of memorable melodic music and athletic eye-popping choreography.  From a simple “Gary, Indiana” to a Barbershop Quartet “Lida Rose” to the tongue twisting “Ya Got Trouble” to the lilting “Till There Was You” to the rousing “Seventy Six Trombones” the large ensemble shines and delivers its best seemingly enjoying every moment on stage alongside its two gracious stars that deliver what the audience has come for.  A grand old fashioned good time.

From the onset the audience was literally abuzz with excitement.  And when Hugh Jackman makes his entrance they went wild without him speaking one word.  Shortly after Sutton Foster got the same reaction.  How wonderful to hear all that applause for them.  And they both do deliver the goods.

Backing them up are some of Broadway’s best:  Jefferson Mays, Jayne Houdyshell, Shuler Hensley, Marie Mullen and newcomer – the adorable Benjamin Pajak who plays Marian’s shy ten year old brother.

To my pleasant surprise the name Garrett Long caught my eye.  She had been Bonnie in a MTC workshop production of “The Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde” that I had written with Dana Rowe and Michael Aman.  Seeing her these many years later as Ethel Toffelmier was an extra special pleasure for me.

Try your best to get a ticket to THE MUSIC MAN.  You will see what we’ve been missing with some of these new-fangled musicals.

At the Winter Garden Theatre.  www.musicmanonbroadway.com

Photo ID.  Proof of vaccination.  MASK UP.

2 hrs. 30 min.  One intermission

Photos:  Bruce Glikas/Getty Images & Julieta Cervantes

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2021 is the year of SONDHEIM.  Broadway: COMPANY.  Off B’way: ASSASINS.  Film: WEST SIDE STORY.  And his untimely, sudden, unfortunate death.

Flashback to 1970.  After an extremely successful summer at Canal Fulton Ohio’s summer stock theater company where I was “resident juvenile” and having just finished a run of DAMES SEA in Washington D.C. there I was at the Alvin Theatre watching the original production of COMPANY directed by Hal Prince.

Within a year I was runner-up as Young Ben in FOLLIES which changed my life forever for the better.

Little did I know as a bright eyed actor/singer/dancer that one day I would be reviewing this revamped revival directed by Marianne Elliott at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre.

A revival starring Katrina Lenk and Patti LuPone.  With a supporting cast of excellent actor/singer/dancers, ubiquitous on stage cell phones and a gimmick.  You gotta get a gimmick, right Mr. Sondheim?

The main character Bobby, a single “he” is now Bobbie a single “she” – an alcoholic whose friends are celebrating her 35^th birthday.  A birthday she would rather forget.

As she wanders about the neon lit cubicles designed by Bunny Christie, like Alice down the rabbit-hole, she travels through Sondheim and Furth’s wonderland of marriage, imperfect relationships, divorce and one night stands.

Bobbie is the third wheel in her married couple’s lives.  Their baiting and bickering.  Their sharing and squabbling.  Their teasing and tempting.  Does she want this?  The question is really – what does she want?  With Katrina Lenk we never really know.  This part seems to be beyond her capabilities.  I never cared about her as Bobbie.  Bobbie’s inner core was never revealed nor conveyed.

In Act II as the company sings “What would we do without you?” a little voice is my head shouted – “a hell of a lot better!”

The master’s score is still tremendous as played by an above stage orchestra.  Lyrics are totally amazing.  Some refitted to retrofit the new sexual identities of some characters.  All well and good.

The best is Matt Doyle’s “Getting Married Today” with its rapid tongue-twisting brilliant lyric and his spot on delivery as he pulls out of his same sex marriage with Paul an equally strong Etai Benson.  It’s a certified show-stopper!

“You Could Drive a Person Crazy” now sung by three hot men to a very lukewarm Bobbie is less successful.

The lengthy book by the late George Furth is still a problem making an almost 3 hour show seem longer.  Even more so with the tinkering of Ms. Elliott.

Great comic timing by two chaps named Christopher – Fitzgerald and Sieber, a joyous Jennifer Simard and the martini swilling Patti LuPone who knocks “The Ladies Who Lunch” out of the stratosphere liven up the proceedings.

Bobby Conte’s version of “Another Hundred People” is too scattered directorial wise, yet he bravely survives it.

And Claybourne Elder!  His delicious physique will have everyone standing in line to get to Barcelona with him drooling all the way.  Great voice and comic delivery to boot.

The biggest disappointment is Katrina Lenk’s delivery of “Being Alive” which she barely seems to be.  It’s really a shame with an otherwise excellent production to end with such an unfortunate low.  The less said the better.

Photos:  Matthew Murphy

www.companymusical.com

Proof of vaccination.  Photo ID required.  Masks required in theatre.

One intermission.  2 and a half hours.

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Bringing the 1993 beloved film to Broadway now starring an equally incandescent Rob McClure as an out of work actor, facing divorce who loves his three kids so much that he manages to become a Scottish nanny so that he can spend more time with them will tickle many a funny bone.  It’s hilarious.  And he sings and dances, works puppets and cooks a mean chicken while all the time being sincere.

For young and old and everyone in between as witnessed by the roars of approval from its audience Saturday matinee – December 4. 2021.

The Kirkpatrick brothers, Wayne and Karey, along with John O’Farrell have rescued an almost lost and what once was truly a revered art form – musical COMEDY – along with director Jerry Zaks, choreographer Lorin Latarro and a stupendous star – Mr. Rob McClure who turns in a marathon man/nanny Tony worthy winning performance in a role that showcases his many incredible sparkling talents.  Bless them all!

To see how many magic, unexpected, joyous rabbits Mrs. Doubtfire pulls out of its hat one must see this musical ASAP.  It is a feel good family friendly romp dealing with divorce, child custody, cross dressing and above all – “love” without getting the least bit sappy.

Special mention must be made of the make-up & prosthetics design by Tommy Kurzman as costumed by Catherine Zuber with hair by David Brian Brown without whom Mrs. Doubtfire would not exist in all her glory.

Jerry Zaks keeps the show bouncing along at a fast clip.  The book is very funny as are the lyrics to the very tuneful and get your feet tapping catchy melodies.

Jake Ryan Flynn as Christopher Hillard is a real find.  Quirky and funny.  A teen with true comic instincts.

Peter Bartlett as Mr. Jolly!  I start giggling uncontrollably just thinking about his uproarious portrayal.  As will you.  That’s a promise.

Excellent production numbers abound but almost topple the show from its lofty aspirations in Act II.  But nothing in life is perfect.  We must enjoy the near perfect and gobble it up.

Word of mouth – excellent word of mouth will surely get Mr. and Mrs. Average Theater-goer and extended families cheering from their hearts in support of this terrific lovable, laughable Mrs. Doubtfire and Co. production.  It’s a breath of freshly recycled air.

At the Stephen Sondheim Theatre. Two and half entertaining hours.  One intermission.

www.mrsdoubtfirebroadway.com

Proof of vaccination.  Masks required.

Photos:  Joan Marcus

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I wondered while watching this quite expensive extravaganza if those ten year old boys sitting on their make-me-higher cushions in the audience were wondering “what do I make of all this female anger being celebrated on stage?”

A mix-up of Tudor history as heard through the over-amplified voices of the six dearly departed wives of Henry VIII channeling pop icons Beyoncé, Shakira, Adele, Nicki Minaj, and Rihanna to name but a few – all sounding alike in this rock style concert.

Each Queen works very hard at trying to convince us who was the worst treated by his Royal Highness Henry VIII.  And if you care for this type of singing (carping) this could be for you.  I am in the minority.  SIX is a worldwide phenomenon no question about that.

The writers have come up with a clever conceit that the audience eats up.  Force fed as it were.  Women should rule the roost.  Women should not have to put up with male barbaric behavior.  Even if it means rewriting or ignoring how some of these Queens deserved what they got.

Oh well, congratulations to creators Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss.  I am not jealous of their success.  Merely sad at what musical theater used to be like.  Congrats to choreographer Carrie-Anne Ingrouille for her ingenious robotic military type precision staging.

SIX goes by in a flash of lights and sound.  One hour twenty minutes of kvetching so loud as to be undisguisable to my ears.  I do wonder what message those ten year old boys received from SIX and how it will affect their future relationships with whomever.

Proof of Vaccination.  Photo ID.  Mask up!

Photos:  Joan Marcus

Premium seat $499.00

www.sixthemusical.com

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Seriously?!  At the DR2 Theatre this “new musical in the making” is more like an amateur Fringe Festival workshop production.  And in need of a doctor suffering from a weak plot and forgettable tunes.  I rate it 4 and a half yawns.  A must see for all those interested in learning what not to do and how to do it in writing a musical – and please do not pick out “a must see” as a quote.

Where do I begin?  It’s all an ear-splitting baffling blur.  There are over twenty sung dialogue numbers devoid mostly of melody – a couple more than the 18 listed producers who should be voted into the musical hall of shame.

The glitzy golden Mylar show curtain reminding us of the fabulously satiric FORBIDDEN BROADWAY greets us.  And its downhill from there.

The story line is ridiculous.  A once famous (worldwide no less) pop singer Regina Comet (Bryonha Marie Parham) is on the skids.  To boost her self-esteem, career and pocketbook she enlists the talents of two unknown writers to create a “jingle” for her new perfume – no make that her new fragrance “Relevance” to appeal to a new and younger and hipper teenage fan base.  The “jingle” is a no show!

They are straight Man 2 (Ben Frankhauser) and gay Other Man (Alex Wyse).  For easier identification Man 2 wears a green shirt and has dark hair.  Other Man wears tight shorts and has great legs.

They are also the brains behind the music, book and lyrics in this fortunately only eighty minute extravaganza.  Have they never heard of Rodgers and Hammerstein or Jerry Herman or Stephen Sondheim?

It seems not BUT they have heard of Barry Manilow – the idol of our two leading men whose portrait is displayed prominently on the cluttered set (Wilson Chin) of post it notes (we never see them post one), piles of note books and furniture on wheels to keep the actors and plot spinning so that we don’t notice all the holes in said plot.

One can always check out the distracting on-stage right and left Madame Orchestra who seem to be enjoying the show more than I did.

There is some humor (after all they met at a Jewish music camp), break-away costumes (Sarita Fellows), a most disgusting feeble magic sight gag (we get to see this twice), lasers (don’t ask) and some polite applause and chuckling from the very sparse audience in attendance.

The entire concoction is directed by Marshall Pailet in a keep the actors in motion and singing as loudly as possible style.  His previous stints as director of “Who’s Your Baghdaddy?” And “Triassic Parq” (which I sadly saw) gives you a glimpse into what to expect.  Musical mayhem.  Scheduled through November 14, 2021.

Proof of vaccination.  Photo ID.  Masks.

www.reginacomet.com

Photos:  Matthew Murphy

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