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When a conflict between two nations takes
place, delicate negotiations need to begin to resolve
the dispute. Oslo, by J.T.
Rogers, at the Lincoln Center Theater at the Vivian
Beaumont, attempts to tell the story of how two
Norwegians (Jefferson
Mays and JenniferEhle)
got involved with Palestinians and Israelis from April
1992 to September 1993. In a play that lasts almost
three hours, we witness characters playing playing
Norwegians, Palestinians and Israelis, shouting, yelling
and screaming at each other at a high decibel level.
This, plus projections of scenes at that time in Israel
and Gaza are marked by deafening explosions. The F...
word is used repeatedly by all involved and other
profanities. I am surprised if this is the way diplomats
speak. Everyone on stage drinks champagne, wine and
whiskey throughout the play. Perhaps, trying to resolve
disputes leads one to drink. There are many lame jokes
told and crude imitations of people like Kissinger and Arafat.
Characters move on and off the stage, while moving
furniture, at a dizzying pace, directed by Bartlett
Sher. I
found the play exhausting.
Two of Broadway's finest actresses, Patti
LuPone playing
Helena Rubinstein and Christine
Ebersole as
Elizabeth Arden, are the reason to see War Paint,
book by Doug
Wright, music by Scott
Frankel, lyrics
by Michael
Korie, at the Nederlander Theatre. The two women
from humble backgrounds, Helena born in a ghetto in
Poland and Elizabeth a poor farm girl from Canada, rose
to become powerful ladies in the cosmetic industry. We
see them conquer New York from 1935 until their deaths.
LuPone and Ebersole dominate the stage, leaving two
actors, John
Dossett and Douglas
Sills, as important men in their lives, far behind.
The music and the lyrics are bland,the book is not
dramatic, the choreography by Christopher
Gattelli is
minimal and as is the direction by Michael
Greif. Thank goodness, we have the two great ladies
of the theatre.
The Little Foxes,
by Lillian
Hellman, at the Manhattan Theatre Club, opens on
April 19. My review will be in next week's column.
Latin History for Morons, written
and performed by John
Leguizamo, directed by Tony
Taccone, at the Public Theater, is, supposedly, a
history lesson with a blackboard for an audience, that
the performer thinks, are a bunch of idiots. Ninety
minutes without an intermission, it is neither clever,
nor particularly funny. If I need to listen to
uneducated views about Aztecs or Incas, I prefer to
attend a History class at a reputable university taught
by an intelligent professor.
I was invited to Feinsteins/54 Below to
listen to six talented musicians from the show and two
fine singers, cast members Katrina
Lenk and Ari'el
Stachel, from the musical The
Band's Visit, which was presented Off-Broadway by
the Atlantic Theatre Company. The music, with an
Egyptian sound, was quite pleasant. Unfortunately, the
composer David
Yazbek introduced
the selections, performed two of his compositions at the
piano, and sang a number from Guys
and Dolls. Why? I have not the slightest idea.
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The 12th Annual Opera News Awards were
held at the Plaza. Four of the five honorees were
present. Robert
Carson, Christine Goerke, Matthew Polenzani and Frederica von
Stade. Yannick Nezet-Seguin was
unable to attend. Among the presenters were Elina
Garanza and Renee
Fleming, who was a surprise presenter. Kelli
O'Hara (photo below) performed a musical tribute,
and Opera News editor F.
Paul Driscoll introduced
the honorees. It was a lovely event.
Resident Magazine invited
me to meet Wendy
Williams, who
appears on its April Cover, at Lovage Rooftop, 350 West
40th St. Unfortunately, I had to review The
Little Foxes at
7pm, and was unable to wait for her. Although I enjoyed
cocktails and hors d'oeuvres in this elegant space, one
of the finest views in New York, at 6:45pm I had to
leave. I hope to meet the beautiful, talented lady on a
future occasion.
I attended a Meet & Greet at Nola
Studios for Marry
Harry, music by Dan
Martin, lyrics by Michael
Biello, book by Jennifer
Robbins, with seven splendid actors (photo
below) which will open on May 4 at the York Theatre
Company at Saint Peters. We saw four selections from
this delightful musical. I look forward to opening
night.
Obit is
a wonderful documentary, by Vanessa
Gould, USA, 2016, about the writers on the Obituary
page of the New York Times. My friend Bruce
Weber used to be a theatre critic and is now one of
them. I read the obituary page every morning before I
leave my apartment to go to the New York Post, where for
the past 40 years I put my celebrity photographs in
their computer. If I find my name in that page, I do not
get up nor eat my breakfast. Actually, if one is alive,
it is the most entertaining section in the paper, that
states on its front page All the News
That's Fit to Print. I am now at an age when I think
about death. I have made a will, and I've instructed my
wife to bury me with all my money in my grave. She
promised to put a cheque for the amount in my coffin.
They had to put a wall around my cemetery. People were
dying to get in. Finally, how do you know when your wife
is dead? Well, the sex is the same, but the dishes pile
up in the sink. See this film. You will feel glad to be
alive. It plays at Film Forum, 209 West Houston from
April 26 to May 9.
I first saw Gunga Din, by George
Stevens, USA, 1939 in England when I was
eight-years-old. At that time, along with Beau
Geste, it was my favorite film. Seeing it again at MoMA, which is
presenting Modern Matinees: Mr. Cary Grant until May
31, I am amazed how wonderful it is. Cary Grant, Victor
McLaglen and Douglas Fairbanks,
Jr. as three British sergeants in India during the
reign of Queen Victoria, fighting against murderous
enemies, are just plain fun to be with. I'm proud of the
fact that I became friends with Douglas, and I
photographed his last wedding to Vera
Shelton, and I had the pleasure of meeting Cary and
his last wife at a Friars Club Roast. Victor I did not
know personally, nor Sam
Jaffe, who was superb in the title role. The film is
magnificent, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I must
mention, the elephant, Annie,
that in her scenes almost steals the picture. |