January 19, 2023
The Minutes on Broadway: You Wish Your Local Council Was This Bonkerballs (you really don't)by Randi / August 18, 2022Woot I’m back from my weekend at the Edinburgh Fringe! We saw 9 shows these past few days (that is…exhausting! especially considering they all went at least 15 minutes long! we had to run across town a lot!) so I’m gonna talk about 3 at a time. First up, the Scottish Plays: Alan Cumming’s ode to Rabbie Burns; a promising but early-stages new musical ostensibly about Land but so far not; and the weirdest f-ing non-Beckett Beckett I’ve ever seen. Okay that last one isn’t Scottish per se but the leading accent was, so I’m going with it.
“Burn” by Alan Cumming and Steven Hoggett
If Scotland does an American-style president and VP combo when it goes independent, the first administration should be President Nicola Sturgeon and VP Alan Cumming. And at the inauguration Alan can be like “I saved every letter you wrote meee”. No but this g-d national treasure is giving his all yet again on the stage, as he always does, this time as the other Scottish national treasure Robert Burns (Rabbie). Burns is celebrated in Scotland for his poetry about haggis and women and Scotland, and in the rest of the world for writing Auld Lang Syne (it’s Scots and it means roughly ‘for old times’ sake’, Sally!).
“Burn” is an hour-long two-hander (just Alan) (he has two hands) using all the words of Burns to tell his life story (ish), with some funky modern dance and bold lighting that sometimes worked. The production boasts some truly great stagecraft, including a feather quill writing by itself and one of my favorite trustfalls I’ve ever seen in a theatre, so well done to Alan and the unseen cast member catching him in the darkened upstage. LOVES IT!
The visuals and Alan’s recitations were wonderful, but I felt unsatisfied in terms of actual substance about Burns. I felt I didn’t learn about his character, what kind of person he was. And maybe we don’t know and that’s unfair to have expected! But I did find myself wondering, throughout the changing tones, ‘wait so was he a good witch or a bad witch?’ I would have liked a personality-driven narrative, but regardless, it was a swell time, even with the weird modern dance that usually I’d be reacting to the same way I do modern art. But with Alan’s giving his trademark 110%, it’s hard not to enjoy the swift hour. Also, he’s pretty much giving a stump speech for Scottish independence, complete with the biggest Scottish flag you’ve ever seen, worn as a cape, obvs.
INFORMATION: After leaving the Edinburgh Fringe, Alan is taking “Burn” on a wee tour of Scotland. I saw it this past weekend in Perth, at the Perth Theatre. Best seat for getting to the toilet: House Right aisle, first few rows (the exit door is at the bottom of that side). They are in Inverness next week, pretty!
“LAND”, by Bethany Tennick, Fraser Scott, and Iona Ramsay
Full disclosure, when I saw there was a new musical at the Fringe from one of the two INCREDIBLE girls behind “Islander”, I legit yelped. “Islander” was one of the greatest pieces of art I’ve ever seen, no exag. I thought, if this new show is half as good, I’m in for a treat. And I’m so glad I saw it because it has some moments of beauty, but it does need a lot of work.
Land, a ‘Scottish folk musical’ as it was billed, is meant to explore our relationship with the earth, death, and generational difference, asking us to reexamine our connection to the planet and climate. With that kind of description, going in I naturally had this notion that it would be sort of climate change-y, about the ‘land’ as in the planet. But although it may have intended to touch on that metaphorically, I wouldn’t have known the show had anything to do with it if they hadn’t said in the materials. Essentially, it was about an older man and a younger man, in two different storylines. The storylines got confused easily and often, and more than a few theatregoers leaving the venue afterwards were expressing their frustration at how unclear the two plotlines were. (I eavesdrop!) The show “seeks to explore our heritage and legacy”, but really, all it was was the relationships between these two pairs of men. Those relationships gave rise to some beautiful, raw human moments, for sure, and that’s nothing to sneeze at. In fact, some were truly lovely and honest, and moving. But those were brilliant moments in terms of human connection, not anything deeper in terms of culture and, well, the land to speak of.
The music was pleasant, and some moments of brilliance shone through, proving the potential of this show. But the story needs to be cleaned up first, and then magnified and deepened to provide that sense of connection to the metaphorical themes that they are going for. As it stands, it’s not really about the land, or the planet, or the climate, but it has lovely moments between the two men, whichever two characters they may have been. And all three performers are giving great performances. It’s definitely worth seeing, but I am extremely eager to see its next iteration, which I’m hopeful will happen, and will improve upon what’s there now.
INFORMATION: Land is playing in a small EXTREMELY HOT room in the Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose venue, in the Dram room (suh kyut). There’s no air flow! Toilets are all the way in the basement.
“The Last Return”, by Sonya Kelly
When I tell you I had agita during and then after this show FOR HOURS. HOO BOY. Imagine the most frustrating episode of “Curb”, multiply that cringe by a factor of 10, and then imagine you’re sitting on one of those ‘productivity’ toilets that tilt forward and make your legs painfully cramp after 5 minutes. That’s this show. It’s not bad, I’m not saying it was bad, because it was interesting and provocative, I think?, but I am saying that it caused me health problems.
‘The Last Return’ takes place in the foyer of a theatre venue, on the last night of the run of the Oppenheimer, the most important lauded must-see production in this unknown city. People are queuing for last-minute returns, as it’s obviously sold out. An old man, a professor of Oppenheimer actually, is first in line, so if any ticket holders decide not to come out in the rain, he’s sure to get a seat. OR SO YOU’D THINK. An insane Scottish version of Will Ferrell as Janet Reno mixed with Dana Carvey’s Church Lady comes in next and stirs some shit up, aghast that the old man apparently told #2 in line, a young girl, that it was okay to leave her backpack to mark her place in the queue and then enjoy her time off in the cafe. I mean rightly so — when in a queue situation like this it’s okay to ask someone to watch your spot if you have to pee but not to fuck off for an hour in a cafe. As Scottish Will-Dana-Church lady says, the whole point of committing to this queueing is to give up your freedom to do anything else with your time.
So at this point, I’m pretty agitated, and I have VERY strong thoughts, mostly because I’m thinking back on all the horrid times I’ve had waiting for rush tickets on Broadway, especially when the Ticket Lady onstage keeps telling the queuers that she’s ‘only the ticket seller and has nothing to do with organizing the returns queue’ etc. I’m reminded in particular of the worst experience I had with rushing for ‘Something Rotten’, when this awfully rotten girl, the only person to arrive before me, said ‘I’m holding a spot for a friend, is that okay?’ and I said sure because I heard there were always at least 10 rush tickets, and even if this bee word and her friend each got two, I’d still be fine, and also I wrongly assumed that the friend just popped out to get food or pee or something. And then an hour and 50 minutes later, when our line was super long and it was just about 10am, time for the box office to open, this bitch’s ‘friend’ showed up, except it was FIVE FUCKING FRIENDS. I was like, excuse me, ABSOLUTELY NOT, you can’t let five people in front of all of us, and this bee had the audacity to say ‘but I told you I was saving a spot!’ YEAH FOR ONE. I hope she is having a horrible life.
As you can see, I had lots of strong opinions about the queueing policies happening onstage given my history as well as my strong judgmental nature and my never-failing sense of what is right and what is wrong in a given situation.
But then, shit gets weird and I stopped being able to see myself in the characters, because it starts to out-Beckett Beckett and go full-out nonsense surrealism that you’re like, what? huh? nervous laughter? but WHY! An American soldier PARACHUTES into the line, a police helicopter starts shooting, a refugee woman lies about not understanding English and cheats her way to the front of the queue and, infuriatingly, wins? people start getting shot and killed and poisoned and the ticket lady does not GIVE. A. SHIT.
It is…a very strange play. And LISTEN, all these problems and all the problems I’ve had on Broadway could be solved with a deli-counter-style number machine CAN EVERYONE JUST DO THAT? LITERALLY LIVES WOULD BE SAVED.
Apparently, the creators meant for this show to be a commentary on refugee experiences, but aside from some harrowing facts the refugee character shares about her trials, I don’t understand what they were trying to say, because she comes out not…looking…great. Like I would believe that they were anti-refugee Tory scum writing this, the way she’s depicted, which I am absolutely sure was not the intention. So, I don’t know what they were trying to say, and I know they owe me some edibles, and I know it would have been 100% better if the Scottish Church Lady and the refugee lady killed each other leaving the ticket to be claimed by the girl who fucked off to the cafe the whole time and avoided all the chaos, because that would have been some perfect nihilistic comedy, but instead they tried to do something emotional (is that what they were doing) that was entirely unearned after all this nonsense, and I’m not sure how I feel about this show, but I know it needs to be 15 minutes shorter and they need to pass the dutchie around afterwards, jfc.
INFORMATION: The show is playing in the Traverse 1 room of the Traverse Theatre, which is one of the nicer venues with some actual semblance of air flow, good toilets, and water pitchers on the bar. Like all Fringe shows, seating is first come, first served, with most holding good aisle seats by the exit as ‘reserved’ but actually for last-minute comers, which is just unfair! Why should lates and last minutes get those sweet sweet right-by-the-exit seats? Le sigh! Also this was the most expensive ticket of our Fringe weekend, which I guess makes sense if you are paying by weight of absolute nonsensory.
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The Phantom of the Opera: Incredible New Cast, Fantastic Production, Weirdest Show Ever
Let’s talk about the Phantom of the Opera. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ‘masterpiece’ (I’m not disputing or agreeing with that; it’s just what it’s called) concerns a deformed prior circus freak who now hides behind a 3/5 mask (because some of his face is apparently still purdy and he wants to show it off to…no one) and becomes scarily obsessed with a pretty young chorus girl in the opera under which he lives in the darkness…darkness…darknesssss. This Phantom (who doesn’t have a name, but in the original novel and some subsequent adaptations was referred to as Erik, which is just the totally wrong name for a Phantom menace) teaches the girl, Christine Daae, to sing uhhh-mazingly, because wants her to somehow simultaneously be the prima donna of the opera house and be his lake dungeon bride, after which he will ostensibly kill her and use her pretty face as a new mask or something because he is hella creepy.
“The Phantom of the Opera” has been running on Broadway for 26 years now, can you even believe it? And this production is aging extremely well. The moving sets and the bits of stage magic don’t seem outdated at all, and the music is haunting and wonderful as always. But the real reason to see this show again, now, is because of the new cast members. Two of musical theatre’s best working actors have joined, with Norm Lewis – the first African-American phantom on Broadway – and Sierra Boggess, as Christine. Normy is my favorite. His “Music of the Night” is gorgeous, moving, and his acting makes you actually feel bad for the Phantom at the end of the show. Yet the biggest treat for me, surprisingly, was Boggess’s Christine. Sir Andrew has said that she’s the greatest Christine there ever was, and until now I had thought he was just saying that to be a dick to his ex-wife Sarah Brightman (the original Christine). But he was absolutely telling the truth. She’s incredible. I never gave Boggess enough credit, because the only big thing I saw her in was “The Little Mermaid” which was sad shit. (Crazy weird trivia: Norm played her father in that. Ewww.) She shines here and is positively astounding. They absolutely need to make a new cast recording with her and Norm. I will buy 9.
So back to the story, which in the years since I last saw it, I forgot the craziness of. While Christine is getting her voice lessons from what she thinks is the ‘Angel of Music’ that her now-deceased father had once promised he would send to her (creepy incestuous and patriarchal b.s. runs rampant), the opera is undergoing a change in management. Unfortunately, the new owners and managers can’t be bothered with the talk of this rumored ‘phantom of the opera’ who causes accidents if he isn’t happy, and they reeeally can’t be bothered with paying this ghost his usual salary: 20,000 of some currency per month. Holy crap, that’s some good money. But he lives in the freaking sewers or some such; what on earth does he do with that money? Burn it for warmth? Or is that how much his fog machine upkeep costs? And his wimpy flame thrower? Actually I think he spends it all on sequins. He like invented the Bedazzler, so it would seem. But then he’d have Bedazzler money too! Where does all the money go?! Can I have some??
The new bosses ignore his demands, which he communicates through many notes passed through Madame Giry, the severe dance mistress who generally knows what’s up with Phantom. (Giry also has a young daughter in the ballet who, whenever the Phantom pulls one of his shenanigans, leaps across the stage and sing-songs “the phantom of the opera!” in like no discernible key and it’s hilarrrious.) This upsets the Phantom because being ignored sucks, so he starts offing people! Like, hold up Webber! I don’t know why people refer to this as a family show, but this is totally dark and scary! I can’t do horror movies, so thank goodness there was incredible music here else I would have peed myself.
The Phantom is frustrated that people aren’t taking him seriously. He becomes murderous and destructive, crashing the famous chandelier (which is still a great piece of theatrical magic), and yet he thinks all of this will win Christine’s love? Not that he cares about reciprocation but it seems he is doing everything for her.
Damn I never realized just how creepy this show is. Seriously, it should come with all kinds of warnings, especially about how utterly misogynistic it is! Omg! Really, even more than Sierra, the biggest standout of seeing it again was realizing how patriarchal and anti-feminist the whole thing is. The premise is that this creepster, shadowy male figure wants to take this young naïve girl to his dark lair of darkness to be his child bride forever. And she misses her father and Cannot. Stop. Talking. About him. And she recalls how her father, on his deathbed, promised to send to her the Angel of Music. And she thinks the Phantom, the creepy sort of man that she should have been told to fear and stay away from, is this Angel of Music, so she keeps being nice to him even though he is KILLING PEOPLE. Because she thinks her father sent him to take care of her. So like, the Phantom is himself a father figure to Christine but he’s also obsessed with her and she is in turn kind of drawn to him because of the father figure stuff or maybe because he does magic. It’s all super creepy. So the Phantom is like, “I must have you, I don’t care what you might actually want, because ha ha that doesn’t matter, and I don’t care if you’re scared because women be scared allatimes, and oh wait, you’re already engaged to your childhood sweetheart Raoul? Well I’ll at least pay attention to that, because we all know the universal rule among men is that the only valid reason a woman wouldn’t want to be with a certain man or do what he says is if she already belongs to another man.” Seriously, this is how most men think, and the Phantom and Raoul exemplify that. So anyway the Phantom is like, “I guess I have to kill Raoul…orrrr I’ll kill the poor random guy who works the sets, and just shoot fireballs at Raoul.”
The best part is that Raoul, our Prince Charming/savior/supposedly decent guy, is exactly like the Phantom! Just better dressed and coiffed and less deformed. Seriously, right after the Phantom kills the set guy, Raoul sings to Christine, “Forget your wide-eyed fears, I’m here. Nothing can harm you.” I MEAN, he sings this to her after the Phantom LITERALLY just killed a guy in front of a packed audience! But Raoul’s a man, so he’s like, “Christine, baby, why are you scared? It’s just a crazy unstoppable murderer on the loose, NBD! I’M HERE, AND I HAVE A PENIS. WE’RE ALL GOOD.” How f-ing dumb is that! What can his blond hair and pinkie ring do to stop the violence? I bet you that whenever someone, anywhere in the universe, is struggling to open a jar, Raoul appears in the doorway and goes “Gimme, I got it. I got it. Gimme it.”
Raoul also mansplains to Christine that, since he didn’t see the Phantom’s lair, she is totes prob making it up, because poor small woman brain. Luckily, he gets captured by the Phantom in said lair when he is trying to rescue Christine, so he learns a little lesson. Also, while Christine decides whether to save Raoul and marry the Phantom or…not, Raoul is hanging in a noose and imitating Chiwetel in “12 Years A Slave”, trying to keep a toe on the ground. For like TEN MINUTES, while Phantom and Christine are discussing the options and singing and stuff. It was ridic.
Unfortunately, the fighting over who gets to keep Christine doesn’t end with her being like, “Both of you, begone! I have a career to focus on,” but with her kissing the Phantom to show him kindness (because he deserves it?) and then marrying Raoul. Yet despite the book’s crazy heavy misogyny and light-on-the-happy vibe, the music and the performances make this actually a must-see. If you are like the many, many people who watch Downton Abbey as a comedy, you’ll love all the crazy in this. Norm is fantastic, though aside from “Music of the Night” the music doesn’t let his voice shine as much as it can. It does seem perfectly written for Sierra, though, and her performance is a revelation. (Even though she doesn’t realize how cool it would be to be a prima donna in a great opera house without worrying about two not-so-great men fighting over her.) I didn’t see the sequel, “Love Never Dies”, but I like to imagine that it features Christine saying, “Listen guys, you need to stay at least 50 feet from me because I’m gonna be a great opera star, and you guys are trippin’.”
Obviously a must-see.
So back to the story, which in the years since I last saw it, I forgot the craziness of. While Christine is getting her voice lessons from what she thinks is the ‘Angel of Music’ that her now-deceased father had once promised he would send to her (creepy incestuous and patriarchal b.s. runs rampant), the opera is undergoing a change in management. Unfortunately, the new owners and managers can’t be bothered with the talk of this rumored ‘phantom of the opera’ who causes accidents if he isn’t happy, and they reeeally can’t be bothered with paying this ghost his usual salary: 20,000 of some currency per month. Holy crap, that’s some good money. But he lives in the freaking sewers or some such; what on earth does he do with that money? Burn it for warmth? Or is that how much his fog machine upkeep costs? And his wimpy flame thrower? Actually I think he spends it all on sequins. He like invented the Bedazzler, so it would seem. But then he’d have Bedazzler money too! Where does all the money go?! Can I have some??
The new bosses ignore his demands, which he communicates through many notes passed through Madame Giry, the severe dance mistress who generally knows what’s up with Phantom. (Giry also has a young daughter in the ballet who, whenever the Phantom pulls one of his shenanigans, leaps across the stage and sing-songs “the phantom of the opera!” in like no discernible key and it’s hilarrrious.) This upsets the Phantom because being ignored sucks, so he starts offing people! Like, hold up Webber! I don’t know why people refer to this as a family show, but this is totally dark and scary! I can’t do horror movies, so thank goodness there was incredible music here else I would have peed myself.
The Phantom is frustrated that people aren’t taking him seriously. He becomes murderous and destructive, crashing the famous chandelier (which is still a great piece of theatrical magic), and yet he thinks all of this will win Christine’s love? Not that he cares about reciprocation but it seems he is doing everything for her.
Damn I never realized just how creepy this show is. Seriously, it should come with all kinds of warnings, especially about how utterly misogynistic it is! Omg! Really, even more than Sierra, the biggest standout of seeing it again was realizing how patriarchal and anti-feminist the whole thing is. The premise is that this creepster, shadowy male figure wants to take this young naïve girl to his dark lair of darkness to be his child bride forever. And she misses her father and Cannot. Stop. Talking. About him. And she recalls how her father, on his deathbed, promised to send to her the Angel of Music. And she thinks the Phantom, the creepy sort of man that she should have been told to fear and stay away from, is this Angel of Music, so she keeps being nice to him even though he is KILLING PEOPLE. Because she thinks her father sent him to take care of her. So like, the Phantom is himself a father figure to Christine but he’s also obsessed with her and she is in turn kind of drawn to him because of the father figure stuff or maybe because he does magic. It’s all super creepy. So the Phantom is like, “I must have you, I don’t care what you might actually want, because ha ha that doesn’t matter, and I don’t care if you’re scared because women be scared allatimes, and oh wait, you’re already engaged to your childhood sweetheart Raoul? Well I’ll at least pay attention to that, because we all know the universal rule among men is that the only valid reason a woman wouldn’t want to be with a certain man or do what he says is if she already belongs to another man.” Seriously, this is how most men think, and the Phantom and Raoul exemplify that. So anyway the Phantom is like, “I guess I have to kill Raoul…orrrr I’ll kill the poor random guy who works the sets, and just shoot fireballs at Raoul.”
The best part is that Raoul, our Prince Charming/savior/supposedly decent guy, is exactly like the Phantom! Just better dressed and coiffed and less deformed. Seriously, right after the Phantom kills the set guy, Raoul sings to Christine, “Forget your wide-eyed fears, I’m here. Nothing can harm you.” I MEAN, he sings this to her after the Phantom LITERALLY just killed a guy in front of a packed audience! But Raoul’s a man, so he’s like, “Christine, baby, why are you scared? It’s just a crazy unstoppable murderer on the loose, NBD! I’M HERE, AND I HAVE A PENIS. WE’RE ALL GOOD.” How f-ing dumb is that! What can his blond hair and pinkie ring do to stop the violence? I bet you that whenever someone, anywhere in the universe, is struggling to open a jar, Raoul appears in the doorway and goes “Gimme, I got it. I got it. Gimme it.”
Raoul also mansplains to Christine that, since he didn’t see the Phantom’s lair, she is totes prob making it up, because poor small woman brain. Luckily, he gets captured by the Phantom in said lair when he is trying to rescue Christine, so he learns a little lesson. Also, while Christine decides whether to save Raoul and marry the Phantom or…not, Raoul is hanging in a noose and imitating Chiwetel in “12 Years A Slave”, trying to keep a toe on the ground. For like TEN MINUTES, while Phantom and Christine are discussing the options and singing and stuff. It was ridic.
Unfortunately, the fighting over who gets to keep Christine doesn’t end with her being like, “Both of you, begone! I have a career to focus on,” but with her kissing the Phantom to show him kindness (because he deserves it?) and then marrying Raoul. Yet despite the book’s crazy heavy misogyny and light-on-the-happy vibe, the music and the performances make this actually a must-see. If you are like the many, many people who watch Downton Abbey as a comedy, you’ll love all the crazy in this. Norm is fantastic, though aside from “Music of the Night” the music doesn’t let his voice shine as much as it can. It does seem perfectly written for Sierra, though, and her performance is a revelation. (Even though she doesn’t realize how cool it would be to be a prima donna in a great opera house without worrying about two not-so-great men fighting over her.) I didn’t see the sequel, “Love Never Dies”, but I like to imagine that it features Christine saying, “Listen guys, you need to stay at least 50 feet from me because I’m gonna be a great opera star, and you guys are trippin’.”
Obviously a must-see.
Anything ANYthing ANYTHING GOOOOES at the Barbican is Pure Silly Joy
In 2011, the absolute ledge Sutton Foster gave us the definitive Reno Sweeney in the definitive production of Anything Goes, directed and choreographed by Kathleen Marshall in a way that warned anyone who tried to do it differently in the future to buzz off, Bambadjan. Heeding that warning, I imagine this is what happened to get this production back in action: the peeps at the Barbican were like ‘we want a new production of Anything Goes!’ and everyone was like ‘you can’t beat the 2011 Broadway revival!’ and the Barbican was like ‘so let’s just do that one!’ and everyone was like ‘ok cool but it really needs Sutton Foster too’ and Barbs was like ‘ok let’s get her!’ and everyone was like ‘can she still do it it’s been 10 years’ and Barbs was like ‘let’s ask’ and Sutton and the rest of the conscious world was like ‘of course she can still do it and probably better than ever she’s Sutton Foster for chrissakes!’ and I was like OH MY GOOD GOD I GET TO SEE MY FAVORITE THING AGAIN!!!!!!!!!! /end scene. (Yes I know it was originally supposed to be Megan Mullally and Sutton came in last minute but Megan would have been more of a Patti LuPone Reno and we cannot go back to those tapless days.)
Now I realize if you search ‘this is my favorite thing!’ in the search box at the top of this site, almost every single post of the thousands I’ve written will come up (barring everything from Mongolia and Mamet) but this is truly one of my faves. By ‘this’ of course I mean Marshall’s incredible, jaw-droppingly amazing 10-minute tap extravaganza of the title song that ends Act I. Me and Jonathan Groff are literally the same person (not literally (or figuratively (we just have this in common) and our love of Lin)) because we were both so obsessed with this number that we learned the whole darn thing, step-by-step, day-by-day, hilarious-Sutton-inflection-by-hilarious-Sutton-inflection.
Literally all of this is chiselled in my mind grapes forever. Okay so I can’t actually DO it, mind you, but I KNOW it, okay.
No matter what the rest of the show is, no matter who the rest of this London cast was going to be, I was in. I was going to see Sutton do this again. I remember every time I saw it on Broadway sitting in shocked excited silence as the curtain came down at intermission, which you KNOW is huge because you know I had to pee. So even though it is still a pandemic, which no one at the Barbican seems to realize, I was going to double mask and double down on seeing my favorite tap number of all time.
Even if the rest of the show was garbage and the rest of the cast was weak, it would still be worth it because that number is just as strong as ever. But fortunately the rest of the show is just as good (mostly) and the rest of the cast is wonderful (mostly).
Before we saw this production, husbo asked me what Anything Goes was about, and even though I know it so well, I really didn’t know how to answer besides to say it’s a lot of silly fun and lots of tapping and that’s all that matters.’ And he was like ‘come on’ and I was like ‘okay it’s like a cruise ship and there’s all these characters like gangsters and fake priests and rich old ladies and a boring debutante and Yale men and Richard you’re a Yale man and your father was a Yale man well we want Rory to be whatever kind of man she wants..I’ve gotten off track.’
The Barbican production was funnier than I remember, truly. ‘Anything Goes’ is a classic Cole Porter romp in which Sutton Foster is a famous New York singer (true!) who loves men, and loves-ish one in particular, her good friend who for some reason doesn’t want to marry her (not believable!) but wants instead to marry the most boring drip of a socialite girl named Hope (also not believable! men hate boring!) who is engaged to a rich British man who seems boring but actually isn’t, but Hope and her mom need his money so they aren’t ruined. So there’s like a sort of love triangle in there among the endless comic antics, but it doesn’t truly matter because you’re just laughing the whole time (except when Hope sings). The physical comedy of this production is endlessly hysterical, and the hundo p Porteresque double entendres and asides and references squeezed into every inch of the show are hilarious (and risque!!) as ever. And no matter how often you see this show, you are still (well I am) surprised at just how many classic Porter songs it features. Of course the title song, and the close second-best number ‘Blow Gabriel Blow’, but also “I Get a Kick Out of You’, ‘Delovely’ (I always forget Delovely!), ‘You’re the Top’, so many! At the Barbican, I found ‘You’re the Top’ even funnier and more enjoyable than ever, poss/prob because Sutton has become so much more comfortable and can mine all the humor possible. Her jovial Billy Crocker, Samuel Edwards, was a great match for her and the two were having an obvious blast with the endless Dad joke lyrics of this song. I love this song because I can never remember any of the actual lyrics. When I sing it it’s like, “You’re the Rockford Peaches, that kid from Beaches…you’re cellophane” or “There’s something startin’/It’s John McMartin…you’re cellophane.” That cellophane lyric really sticks. I don’t like that Sutton still has the harmony on the final line because her voice cuts through EVERYTHING so you mainly hear her kind of weird harmony sounding like the leading vocal instead of the melody line but WHO CARES.
Although the 2011 cast (I will never stop regaling this perfect production, sorry) was definitive (that’s the word of the day/show) cannot be beat — you had muhfucking Joel Grey, Jessica Walter (RIPYAL), Colin Donnell, John McMartin (it wasn’t just random before!), Adam Godley, all absolute perfection — this cast was very enjoyable. It’s not definitive in every single way like the prevs were because that’s not possible, but the all did a fine job. I think the show’s pacing would be improved by cutting the gd blue bird song in Act II – if you don’t have Joel Grey doing it there’s no reason to suffer through it (even with Joel it was a stretch!). Haydn Oakley as Lord Oakleigh (omg is that why they hired him??) was good fun but Adam Godley was just a bit more silly and joyous (and made that ‘gypsy in me’ song funnier…which btw they REALLY need to update. Just change it to Spanish or something instead of Gypsy; it’s already totally a Spanish dance). And Hope was fine, perfectly serviceable but not a standout. I am spoiled by how perfect Laura Osnes (RIP) (she’s not dead just dead to me) was in the role, because come on — a beautiful and angelic-sounding but dull as dishwater debutante with zero character development or depth who just has to sound lovely and move gracefully and be as deep as a sheet of looseleaf? OSNES TO A TEE!
It really doesn’t matter what little qualms I have because it’s the best, it’s so much fun, it’s de-lovely. Marshall’s production is a joy to watch. It’s still way too long – like 2 hours 45 which is kind of pushing the rompness of a romp – but it’s hard to know what hilarious bits you could possibly live without (just kidding it’s the blue bird song and the THREATS TO THE DOG, OVVIAMENTE). Sutton has now left, because she has to go be Marion the Librarian on Broadway and I hope prove to everyone (including me) that she actually will be right for that part, and Rachel York has filled her shoes. I guess Rachel can tap? Awesome. Regardless, so fun, so joy, so wow. Loves it.
What is NOT FUN or joy or wow is the Barbican’s compleeeete laaaaack of caring that we are still in a pandemic. This was by far the worst showing for masks/caring we had ever seen (until this past weekend’s show; look out for a post on that later this week). They recommend that people wear masks, but unless and until staffers actually enforce an actual mask mandate, no one is going to wear one. I really wish that ushers would a) be visible anywhere and b) legit kick people out if you can see their noses. I honestly would volunteer my time to do the kicking out. Ugh it was really bad. I especially loved the unmasked family with two teens (too young to be vaxed at that time!) coughing the entire time. I’m not going to say RIP for the third time in this post but you know I’m thinking it. DO BETTER, BARBICAN AND EVERY LONDON THEATRE.
