Everything's Better with Pork Belly!

First course, lobster roll from Red Hook Lobster Pound.

With my stomach finally recovering from Memorial Day weekend's overindulgences, I was prepared for another colon crushing food adventure.  Earlier in the week, Trish and I stumbled upon Madison Square Eats on our way home from a decadent 9-course dinner at Aldea.  But our poor distended stomachs couldn't handle another crumb, so we made a plan to return later in the week.

Apparently, this yearly (though after 20 years in the city, this is the first I've heard of it, LOL) food festival sets up shop in the Flatiron district for a month each May and showcases some of the top food vendors in the city.

Armed with a roll of Tums, I headed downtown to meet Trish.  With unseasonably high spring temperatures in the 80s, it was a perfect evening for al fresco dining amongst the throngs of confused tourists and pale New Yorkers finally soaking up some vitamin D after months of winter hibernation.

I made a beeline for Red Hook Lobster Pound where I ordered up a Maine-style, cold lobster roll.  And yes, it tastes as good as it looks.  Trish decided to go the pork route with an Asiadog.  I've driven by Asiadog's brick-and-mortar location several times on my many chauffeured drives home from Jersey (thank you, slave...I mean, Chris Grimm), so it was nice to finally satisfy my curiosity with a bite from one of their Asian fusion wieners.

Course #2: pork belly, pork bbq & spinach noodles

After enjoying our sandwich course in nearby Madison Square Park, Trish was able to snag a coveted Worth Square table right in front of Mighty Balls.  Since we've tasted their saucy balls down at the Hester Street Fair, we decided we'd pass in favor of trying some new vendors.

A sucker for all things pig, I was unable to overcome the siren song of pork belly buns calling to me from Hong Kong Street Cart.  We ordered 3 perfectly juicy, salty slabs of fatty pig each nestled in a slightly sweet, spongy bun.  Noticing the abundance of protein on our table, we also decided to include a "vegetable" in the form of spinach noodles smothered in a spicy peanut sauce.  Hey, they're green.

Trish can't decide what to eat next.

We needed a side dish to complete our Asian-themed meal so Trish got in line at Seoul Lee Korean Bar B Cue for a spicy pork bbq sandwich.  Technically, the sandwich is served in a dish which we then placed to the side of our meal, thus "side dish."

After all those exotic tastes, we decided to go old school for dessert and grab some ice cream at Dreamscoops.  Trish had the cookies and cream and I opted for salted caramel.

Anticipating the strenuous 20-minute subway ride home, we thought it best to swing by Macaron Parlour for some late night "emergency" macarons.  You never know when that blood sugar's gonna' dip and you'll need a handy pick-me-up.  They're practically medicinal. Like aspirin.

Staycation continues as we go Into The Woods and then pop our Coney Island cherries

Read about the first half of our Memorial Day Weekend staycation.

Staycation: Day 3 (Sunday, 5/26)

Like yesterday, I spent the morning drifting in and out of consciousness until about noon time when I forced my bloated body out of bed.  I popped a handful of antacids and vowed not to eat my way through the day as I had yesterday.  Stumbling into the living room, an empty box of macarons from last night's gorge-fest sat empty, mocking me and my Buddha belly.

Tonight we had tickets to Fiasco Theater's acclaimed production of Into the Woods at the McCarter Theatre in Princeton.  To break up the drive, Trish and I decided to indulge in some retail therapy at Jackson Premium Outlets.  If I couldn't satisfy my unfulfilled emotional life with empty (but delicious) calories, I'd feed it instead with bargain Gap tees!

Sadly, the lure of the living room couch proved stronger than the need to sate my consumerist appetite.  So instead of jumping in the car to do some damage to my credit card, Trish and I basked in our laziness, wasting the rest of the afternoon lounging in our jammies and watching TV.  We procrastinated until the last minute and then scrambled to shower and change or risk arriving late to the theatre.  Thankfully, the drive to Princeton was uneventful and we arrived at the gorgeous Ivy League campus with plenty of time to spare.

You can read my detailed review here.  But Fiasco's production of Into the Woods was easily the most cleverly staged productions I've seen in years.  Every bit of stage action was well thought out, concise and meaningful - no extraneous bits or self-referential jibes.  It was, and I don't think I've ever said this about any show, a perfect production of this material.

Staycation: Day 4 (Monday, 5/27)

Still a Coney Island virgin after 20-years in NYC (I moved to the city in August 1993 to study opera at Manhattan School of Music), I decided it was finally time for a little outer borough exploration.  With our staycation coming to a close, we gave Trish's car the day off since Coney Island is conveniently located on the opposite end of our subway line.  Getting there would be cheap, super convenient and easy - or so we thought.

We're 2 stops from the end of the N line in Queens.  Coney Island is the last stop in Brooklyn.  That leaves a mere 42 stops in between!  Sounds like the perfect opportunity to take a nice, long nap in air conditioned comfort, right?  Wrong.  As we pulled into 42nd Street the conductor announced that due to "debris on the tracks," there would be no N train service to or from Brooklyn (think about that before you toss your gum wrapper on the tracks).  So much for convenient and easy.

Instead of a direct ride, we ended up transferring to the 2 train and then transferring back to the N train in Brooklyn after bypassing the aforementioned "debris."  After 2 hours, we had managed to travel the 19 miles to Coney Island.  That's about 9.5 mph (an elite marathon runner can average about 12.5-13 mph).  Go MTA!

The unusually large crowd (especially for mid-morning on a weekday) waiting to transfer back to the N train at Atlantic Avenue was not amused with the day's subway issues.  Apparently, our plan to celebrate Memorial Day at Coney Island wasn't so original after all.

Thankful to see sunlight after our 2-hour subway imprisonment, Trish and I were all smiles.  We strike a pose on the Boardwalk after navigating past the throngs of tourists and assorted shady characters heading toward the beach.  There  must be something about surf and sand that naturally attracts the white (and black and brown) trash contingent.

Our first stop along the boardwalk was Luna Park's Scream Zone.   Aptly named, since the thrill rides here are a stomach-churning notch above your average amusement park fare.  Though famished, we decided it best to wait until after being catapulted 150 feet into the air in a tiny steel cage before sating our hunger for fear of showering the crowd with the chunky contents of our stomachs.  For actual footage of Trish and I squealing and laughing inside the slingshot ride cage, check out the video on Trish's facebook page.

That extra jolt of adrenaline sure ramped up our appetites.  And since this is Coney Island, how could we not make the pilgrimage to iconic Nathan's for a double dose of heartburn in a bun.  Trish opted for the traditional cheese dog while I decided to test the strength of my stomach lining with a bacon cheeseburger.  Both sandwiches were surprisingly delish, with that authentic grill flavor which, incidentally, lingers on your palate well after you've packed up and left the boardwalk, if you know what I mean.  I'm not sure if either sandwich was actually worth the one hour wait in line, but when in Rome...

We people-watched and digested or meal along this sandy stretch of beach front.  Hard to believe we're in New York City. 

For our farewell ride we opted for something a bit less thrilling.  We thought this swing ride, with a nice view of the Cyclone in the background, would be just the ticket.  Oh, how looks can be deceiving.  With just a loose bar across our waists, it seemed at any moment we would be flung from our seats to a bloody death on the macadam below.  This pic doesn't show it (here they're just lowering riders back to the ground), but the ride lifts you 100 feet in the air and then spins you quite a bit faster than you'd imagine.  Not for the faint of heart, as Trish's panicked screams indicated.

Food, Fun & "Fancy Free" - Memorial Day Weekend Staycation

Staycation: Day 1 (Friday, 5/24)

What better way to inaugurate the official beginning of summer than with a Brazilian buffet and Audra McDonald (not together, of course - though the thought of it does get me all hot and bothered - not sure my heart could take the fanboy excitement combined with the cholesterol).  Trish has raved about Villa Brazil for months since her friend, Mara, introduced her to it's carnivorous pleasures.

The restaurant is in our Astoria nabe, but torrential rains (and my laziness) combined with unseasonably cool temperatures forced us to drive the 15 blocks rather than walk.  Mara enthusiastically agreed to join us even though she had just supped with Trish the day before.  Like us, she never passes up an opportunity to stuff her face with grilled meat.

We dropped our umbrellas in the foyer and faster than you can rip the tape off a Brazilian bikini wax, Mara had dragged me to the back of the restaurant where a buffet of South American delights awaited my watering mouth.  I have no idea what anything was (nothing is labeled), but it was all delicioso.  Especially the churrascaria-style meats (pictured above) that the grillman cuts and piles on your plate to order.  I can feel my arteries hardening at the sheer memory of those scrumptious, bloody cuts of sirloin, skirt and rib.

We followed up our animal flesh bacchanal with a trip to, where else, the Entenmann's Bakery Outlet.  It's only two blocks from the restaurant, so we trudged through the wind and rain for $1 pound cakes and english muffin packs.

Trish and I ended our evening in a post-feast haze, watching The Goddess, Audra McDonald, on Live from Lincoln Center.  We were privileged to be in the audience during the live taping, but I wanted to re-live that night from the comfort of my couch and with the added luxury of close-ups.

The gorgeous lobby of the Koch Theatre

Staycation: Day 2 (Saturday, 5/25)

With dreams of Audra wafting through my brain, I slept in until almost noon.  But once up, there was no time for more lounging.  I'd already wasted half of staycation day 2 in my jammies.  With just enough time for the three "sh"'s (shit, shower and shave), Trish and I were off to Lincoln Center for New York City Ballet's "Tribute to Broadway."

Today's matinee program included ballets based on or taken from classic Broadway shows.  First up - "Fancy Free," the Jerome Robbins ballet that inspired Leonard Bernstein to write On The Town.  Gotta' love a man in a tight white uniform, right?  And since Fleet Week was canceled this year, today's show was my only opportunity to openly ogle sailors in NYC this spring.

Second on the program was Christopher Wheeldon's "Carousel" (not to be confused with Agnes de Mille's "Dream Ballet" created for the original Broadway production).  The Wheeldon ballet is a loose interpretation of the musical's Billy/Julie relationship employing excerpts (including the thrilling "Carousel Waltz") from the iconic Rodgers & Hammerstein score.  This piece was new to me, and I appreciated the intricate pattern work and liberal use of - for lack of a better term - the "peel-off" effect.  I also made a mental note of how Wheeldon created a human carousel with his dancers and a few poles.  I'll definitely be stealing this moment...er, I mean recreating the moment "in homage"...the next time I'm called to choreograph the show.

Intermish photo shoot - aren't we lovely?  That's rhetorical.

Trish and I took advantage of the extended intermission to stretch and do some minor back re-alignment.  Our cheapo fourth ring seats, though front row, were way off to one side so we had to sit in an abnormally twisted position in order to see the stage without resorting to some serious Cirque du Soleil neck contorsion.

Act 2 was comprised entirely of Robbins' "West Side Story Suite."  It's sort of the Cliffs Notes version of West Side Story.  I'd never seen a performance of the suite, so I didn't realize the scenes (except "Something's Coming") were literally exerpted from the original staging - including the singing.

I know there are some kick-ass dancer/singers out there, but yikes.  The singing in "America" was barely at the level of a competent high school production.  To be fair, it is a ballet company, but I just couldn't get past Anita's thin, underpowered vocals.  Chita and Rita have forever spoiled me.  Thankfully, a professional singer (on mic stage right) sung the role of Tony during "Something's Coming."

Staring at emaciated dancers for two hours can really work up the appetite.  So after the final curtain call Trish and I headed to Aldea, a Michelin-starred, Iberian restaurant in Union Square.  Normally, this type of fancy-shmancy place is out of my price range.  But the advantage of a staycation is not having to shell out for flights or hotel rooms.  Instead, I was able to divert the extra cash to fund my favorite pastime - gorging until I throw up!

Aldea's small, sleekly furnished dining room has a clear view of the open kitchen in back. The modern design afforded us an unobstructed view of hunky celebrity chef, George Mendes. Talk about wetting - I mean whetting - your, um, appetite.  Yowza.

We decided to forgo restraint in favor of the gluttonous 9 (!) course chef's tasting menu.  You can check out all the gory details to the left (I have no idea what that brown smudge is, but I'd venture to guess it's probably my drool).  Jealous yet?  If not, let me list the "Petiscos" for you:

- Mojito sandwich with coconut water (like a little lemon-mint macaron)
- Potato chip w/ goat cheese and beet purée
- Raw oyster on half shell
- Asparagus soup w/ fresh peas (my favorite)
- Bacalao croquet
- Beet-soaked mini hard-boiled egg

...and the "Pre Dessert":
- Vanilla curd cream with mango granita and mint sorbet topped with vanilla wafer balls

...and yet a tenth, post-dessert bonus "Petit Four" course:
- Almond financier
- Lychee strawberry gelee pâtes de fruits
- Ginger clusters

Is it any wonder the meal took over two and a half hours to serve?

I was so mesmerized by the volume and variety of dishes and the gorgeous plating that I forgot to take pictures.  I finally regained my composure by the dessert course, at least enough to make Trish take this aerial shot (left) of the dessert plate.  Beautiful AND tasty - just like me.

In an effort to burn off a few calories, after dinner we decided to walk uptown to the next subway stop instead of jumping on at Union Square.  As we reached 23rd street we noticed some brightly colored tents and strung carnival lights.  With no other plans for the evening, we decided to investigate.  Nearing the site, the hypnotic smell of beer and fried food wafted passed us and we knew we were heading into dangerous territory - an outdoor food festival.

Just past Eataly, on a tiny triangle of asphalt just west of Madison Square Park, the festive tents of Madison Square Eats were buzzing with a mix of Flatiron yuppies and excited tourists.  I stood wide-eyed, mesmerized by the stands of artisanal street foods.  Though still obscenely full from our 9 course dinner, I was tempted to sneak down a side alley, purge and re-fill.  Instead, Trish and made a plan to return later in the week for dinner.

Not wanting to leave the festival empty handed, we stopped by Macaron Parlour's stand for a sample pack featuring some of their more unusual flavors (including salted caramel, smore and - wait for it - candied bacon with maple cream cheese frosting and - wait for it again - cheetos infused white chocolate ganache!).  We managed to make it all the way home to Astoria before ripping the box open and devouring all 12 of the the colorful, chewy bundles of cream-filled goodness.

Memorial Day Staycation continues...

Far From Heaven - A Valiant Attempt

Far From Heaven
Playwright's Horizons
Tuesday, May 14, 7pm

I desperately wanted to love this show given the merits of the artistic team, the subject matter and the fantastic cast (dreamy Steven Pasquale and the always lovely Kelli O’Hara).  But by the closing scene, I found myself surprisingly unmoved.  And this from a man who literally cries at the end of an Undercover Boss episode.

Trust me, I was open and ready for the moment I’d be moved to tears for Cathy, the show’s heroine (played sensitively by O’Hara).  But it never came. 

(MAJOR spoilers ahead)

Let me break down Cathy's shitty life for you (I almost cried just typing it):

• Her sexy, closeted husband won’t put out.
• She walks in on sexy husband with his tongue in another guys mouth.
• She falls in love with Raymond, a black man (in suburban 1950s Connecticut, no less), whose daughter gets attacked by white thugs.
• Raymond breaks it off and moves to Baltimore.
• She's abandoned by her husband for some hot young twink he meets on their vacation and is left alone to raise two young children.

Seems like a pretty emotionally devastating evening, right?  Sadly, I was left admiring the artistic effort and the talent on stage, but not so much the final product.

The first act was most troublesome for me. The opening number sets the tone well, but the rest of the act seems like a string of plot points relayed through a pleasant, if perfunctory, score.  Perhaps the writers are trying too hard to mirror the repressed emotional state of the characters through the writing.  The approach sounds good in theory, but in practice comes off like an extended recitative interspersed with several notable musical motifs that don't get fully developed. 

The second act is more successful.  There is a romantic sweep, almost lushness, to the score that I found missing in the first act.  Unfortunately, there are also many missed opportunities, moments – like the train station scene (seriously, where’s the big duet about lost love/opportunity?) – that pass without comment yet to me, scream out to be sung.  And don’t get me started on the embarrassingly bad blocking for the stoning scene.  Talk about not giving an audience credit for having an imagination.  

Yes, the setting is an idealized 1950s suburbia where everyone has the restrained veneer of Stepford perfection.  But this is also a musical, dammit!  A musical about passion, forbidden romance and lost inhibitions - massive emotions I didn't hear expressed in the score.  

The writers obviously respect the source material, but perhaps to the detriment of their adaptation.  There are some satisfying moments (especially between Cathy and Raymond, her black gardener) in both acts.  But for the most part, what's on stage is a faithful but dispassionate musicalized version of the movie. 

The ubiquitous Kelli O’Hara is the ingénue du jour, and rightly so.  She’s gorgeous, sings beautifully and is always so natural and un-mannered in her acting.  She’s perfect for the role of a dutiful 1950s housewife.  Steven Pasquale is equally perfect, handsome with a strong, lovely tenor.  Though for some reason the writers have chosen to set most of his character's music in Pasquale's less powerful lower range.

But the real travesty on the Playwrights Horizons' stage is the hulking, hideous scoffold set.  It looks like scavanged remnants from the Rent bus-and-truck.

On a side note, the fabulous Christine Ebersole (Tony winner for Korie & Frankel's Grey Gardens) sat right in front of me.  During intermish she chatted with composer Scott Frankel about recent productions of Grey Gardens in Brazil.  

Orphans and Trip To Bountiful

It’s been a while, but here are some thoughts on plays I’ve seen recently.

Orphans

Schoenfeld Theatre

Tuesday, April 9, 7pm

it’s hard to take Alec Baldwin seriously in a drama when he’s delivery his lines a la Jack Donaghy (which he plays brilliantly on 30 Rock). 

Maybe he’s inhabited the Donaghy character for so long that he’s adopted that same dry, self-important tone in real life.  Who knows?  But what should be a taut, psychological thriller loses its edge with unintentionally funny line readings from Baldwin that kill any sense of tension.

Tom Sturridge gets the showier role of the emotionally-stunted, seemingly simple-minded younger brother, Phillip, to Ben Foster’s short-tempered but well-meaning older brother, Treat.  Their interaction and weirdly co-dependent relationship is intriguing and hints at so many darker themes of abuse and abandonment.  Unfortunately, once Baldwin enters, the piece just sort of deflates.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like the play suddenly turns into a Neil Simon comedy.  But there’s an underlying, ominous quality that sort of dissipated as the show progressed.  In fairness, I’d place a large portion of the blame on the director for not coaxing the right style out of Baldwin.  Too bad, since we're not likely to get another revival anytime soon.

During my silent intermission brainstorming session (Trish wasn’t with me and the friendly father and son from Calgary seated next to me were enjoying the show too much for me to rip it to shreds in front of them) I came up with some more interesting casting choices for Baldwin's role:  Liam Neeson, Liev Schreiber, Tony Goldwyn, Dustin Hoffman, Ed Harris, Russell Crowe, Denzel Washington, Sean Penn, Mark Ruffalo, Stanley Tucci, Michael Shannon...to name a few.  These guys all possess a dark quality and twisted sense of humor that Baldwin lacks.  I guess I just don't find Baldwin "dangerous."

On a side note, I can’t imagine Shia LeBeouf coming off well in the role of Treat, since Treat needs to have an intrinsic charm and likeability to counteract his abrasive character.  Given LeBeouf is about as charming as a bucket of dirt, I’d say they producers were lucky he left the production.

The Trip To Bountiful

Stephen Sondheim Theatre

Friday, April 5, 8pm

Talk about star wattage – Vanessa Williams, Tom Wopat, Cuba Gooding, Condola Rashad AND Cicely Tyson.  I imagine there was probably a lot of ego bumping during rehearsals.  But if so, it didn’t manifest itself on stage.  And anyway, I’m sure they were all bowing down in deference to Ms. Tyson.

Even with the A-List cast, the only reason to check out this revival is the performance of the legendary Ms. Tyson in the lead role of Carrie Watts, an elderly woman hoping to escape a stifling city life in Houston to return to her rural hometown.   To say she commands the stage would be an understatement.  She’s mesmerizing even when silently rocking on a chair and looking out a window.  And is it humanly possible the woman is 88 years old?  I hope I retain the same energy and mental capacity when I’m the same age (in 2058!).

The play itself can feel slow and a bit talky and in the wrong hands can be a real snoozer.  Luckily, director Michael Wilson has kept the dramatic pauses to a minimum and the pace brisk without feeling rushed.

As for the supporting cast, Gooding (as Carrie’s son, Ludie) and Williams (as Ludie’s self-centered wife, Jessie Mae) are a good match.  Though Gooding was a tad on the whiny side, he was still likeable in his Broadway debut.  The role of strong-willed Jessie Mae, on the other hand, seems tailored made for Williams and her particular brand of powerful sexiness.  It certainly doesn't hurt that Williams looks dazzlingly beautiful in the period costumes. 

Speaking of costumes, one upside to non-traditionally casting the main characters as a black family is that you can get away with some more colorful choices for the period clothing given their skin tones.  It's nice not to see the usual dour muddy hues usually associated with plays set in this period.

My favorite moment of this revival came during the bus station scene.  Tyson’s character is celebrating her escape from the city with an impromptu rendition of “Blessed Assurance.”  By about the third line, the audience had spontaneously joined her, singing out full-voiced like we were at a Sunday revival.  It's a moment that could only happen in the context of live theatre and reminds me why iPads and wide screen TV's will never replace the spontaneity of a live performance.

Save some time on the telecast and just hand Ms. Tyson her Tony already.

For the Love of Audra! Audra McDonald at Avery Fisher

This guy

Who’s got two thumbs and squealed like a 12-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert upon hearing the announcer utter the five most thrilling words in the English language:  “Please welcome Ms. Audra McDonald”? 

This guy.

Yup, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I have an unholy obsession with all things Audra.  When it was announced she was giving a concert at Avery Fisher, I went online immediately - well, after weeping uncontrollably with joy - to purchase tickets.  I haven’t missed a single one of her New York appearances (Broadway or concert) since she first won my heart as spunky Carrie Pipperidge in Lincoln Center's 1994 Carousel revival.

I know, I'm just a cult affiliation and scraggly beard short of "stalker" status.

Trish nearly gave me a coronary, though, when she called my office ten minutes to five (the concert started at 7 PM) explaining she was still in Jersey and was going to hop in her car right then and drive straight to Lincoln Center.  I wished her luck, hung up the phone, ripped open a bag of cheddar and sour cream Ruffles and started binge eating. 

Not that Trish’s situation had any bearing on my attendance.  Hell no.  But I was experiencing sympathy stress just imagining what it would be like stuck in the Lincoln Tunnel knowing Audra was emoting to my empty seat. 

These thoughts only fueled my paranoia.  There was no way I was going to be late.  I left my midtown office immediately so I'd have a reasonable two hours to make the 15 block trek uptown to Lincoln Center.  You can never be too cautious when it comes to Audra.

When I exited the subway at Lincoln Center I texted Trish for an update.  She was still stuck at the Lincoln Tunnel.  I did what any sensible super-fan would do and headed straight to the box office, left Trish's ticket and headed to my seat.  Nothing is more important than family, except Audra.  Trish would have to fend for herself. 

Because the concert was being taped live for PBS broadcast, the usher gestapo was out in full force exclaiming, “No late entry.  You cannot leave the theatre once the performance has started.  There is no intermission.”  These weren’t your typical grumpy, elderly ushers.  Oh no, for a live Audra taping you get burly, secret service types in tuxes with white, curly phone-cord earpieces.

Since the concert was also a benefit for Lincoln Center, the audience skewed into two very distinct demographics.  Seated up front with their stretched-faced wives were the wealthy elite, all tuxedos and bored expressions.  Sure, they had an idea who Audra was - "that black woman from the TV show" - but they weren't true fans.  Meanwhile, the more youthful, skinny-legged-pant-wearing, theatre nerd contingent was scattered about, delegated to the rear orchestra and balconies. 

At 7 PM on the dot, the house lights went down and the concert began.  Huh?  Lincoln Center?  Gala event?  Wealthy New Yorkers?  On time?

Trish’s unused seat mocked me with its empty stare, but once Audra uttered her first sung phrase, “I happen to like New York…” everything else became irrelevant.  By the end of Audra’s second number (her now signature version of Jason Robert Brown's “Stars and the Moon”) I resigned myself to the fact that Trish was going to miss the concert, leaving me with a super convenient place to lay out my coat and bag.

Then as if on cue, the back doors swung open during our applause and a horde of latecomers came streaming through.  According to Trish, there were so many rich, privileged old people screaming and complaining about not being permitted late entry, the house managers had no choice but to let them in.

Regarding Audra’s performance, well, what can I say?  She was, as usual, magnificent and looked gorgeous in a teal gown.  Here's the NY Times' rave.  My only disappointment was that she didn't perform much new material.  Tonight's program was largely a repeat of her 2011 Carnegie Hall concert which also happens to be the material included in her upcoming new release "Go Back Home."  Even so, Trish and I were in tears as soon as Audra started in on the 9/11-themed "I'll Be Here."  And I have a feeling in about six months casting directors all over the country will want to shoot themselves after Audra's rendition of Goldrich & Heisler's "Baltimore" makes the song an audition staple.

Unfortunately, the sound in the theatre was pitiful.  You'd think the nation's premier performing arts venue would have some idea about setting sound levels for a solo singer and orchestra, but apparently not.  There was loud microphone feedback during a couple of very dramatic musical moments.  And for most of the concert, it sounded like Audra was singing into the mouth of a very large cave - all muffled and echo-y.

Oh well, Audra is still Audra.  Hopefully, they'll be able to do some magic in the editing room before the "Live from Lincoln Center" telecast.  I'm setting my DVR right now.

The Last 5 Years and Dogfight redux

The Last 5 Years
Second Stage
Saturday, May 4, 2pm

I’ve never seen a staged production of the show, so it was interesting to finally see the material on its feet.   And with composer Jason Robert Brown directing, I guess there’s also really no debate regarding the author’s intent.  I mean, he created the thing, so how can you argue that he’s “wrong,” right?

I’ve always admired the score but have wondered if the structure - simultaneous reverse timelines - would work onstage or if it was really just a gimmick, an intellectual experiment meant to impress a grad school theatre professor.  But I found myself fully engaged and at times, moved by this study of a relationship that blossoms unexpectedly, yet coasts to a sad, inevitable end.

Adam Kantor (Jamie) and Betsy Wolfe (Cathy) are giving heartfelt and vocally impressive performances, especially Wolfe.  An actor playing Cathy is at a distinct disadvantage given that her storyline begins as the relationship is already falling apart.  She begins the show as a shrill, sniveling mess, while Jamie starts the show off as a charming, lovestruck young man. 

Wolfe finds laughs in unlikely places, yet never to the detriment of the material.  Her high belt and mix is extraordinarily clean with no trace of break between belt and head.  For me the audition scenes, painfully familiar to any NYC actor, were a particular highlight.   And judging by the audience’s response, many of us were in attendance. 

I don’t mean to undermine Kantor’s contribution to the show, but let’s face it, Brown doesn’t hide the fact that the show is autobiographical.  Is there really any wonder why Jamie comes off as the sympathetic one of the pair?  I’ll even admit to some near-tears at the end of the “Schmuel Song.”

Now we shall wait for the movie.

Another Second Stage production, Dogfight, just released its original cast album.  I have to admit, I’ve been playing the song “Pretty Funny” on repeat for the last couple of days.  Heartbreaking.  I nearly cried on the subway on the way to work, but pretended to have an extreme allergy attack.

Jekyll & Hyde (sigh)

Jekyll & Hyde
Marriott Marquis Theatre
Sunday, May 5, 2pm

Wow, just wow.  This Broadway revival is the (hopefully) last stop after a 25-week national tour.  I mean, I’m all for second chances, but the current revival is really just a train wreck.  I can’t believe any producer thought this was Broadway ready/caliber.  And besides, 12 years seems a bit soon for a show that is generally not considered a “classic” by most (all?) musical theatre experts.
 
The show has been re-worked, notably given new rock arrangements that I assume were implemented to give the score an “edgier” sound.  I’ll admit this score has always been a secret guilty pleasure, especially with Colm Wilkinson and Linda Eder’s vibrant vocals on the original concept album.  But the new synth-heavy orchestrations reduce the already power ballad-heavy score into a cheesy tribute to 80s hair bands. 

Unfortunately, no amount of electric guitar riffs or excessive American Idoli-esque vocalizing can hide the scores shortcomings – notably the lack of lyrical specificity and the generally unimaginative melodic/harmonic structures – though there’s no denying Wildhorn has a gift for writing memorable musical hooks.

Constantine Maroulis employs his signature curly mane to excess and his pouty trademark “blue steel” is intact for all the fans.  But vocally?  Hmmm.  Yes, it’s a strong voice with an impressive range, but either the musical director has no balls or Maroulis just doesn’t give a rats ass about vocal finesse or about serving the lyric.  His back-phrasing is so extreme that at times it sounds like a recording where the technician pressed the “start” button on the vocal and orchestral tracks a measure (or more) apart.  It’s self-indulgent and screams - literally - “look at ME” at the expense of the score.


And his “accent” – oy vey!  Does Maroulis have something against ending sentences with a long “e” vowel?  i.e. “listen to meh,” “…to beh or not to beh” – OK, that last quote is not from Jekyll & Hyde, but you get the idea.

Deborah Cox fairs much better.  She’s not a natural actress and at times seems to be giving a somewhat mechanical, though committed, performance.  But she’s gorgeous (those calf muscles are dazzling) and has star presence and charisma to spare.  She at least gets an “A” for effort. 

At yesterday’s matinee Cox was suffering from some obvious vocal fatigue, but I give her props for somehow managing to squeeze out a thrilling last note and verse on “A New Life.”  And in a British accent cage match, her cockney would beat the living crap out of Maroulis’ high Brit. 

Trish hated the physical production, though it didn’t bother me.  Compared to the scaffolding of the originally production, this seemed positively lush.  At times the projections did seem like overkill.  Come on, producers, give the audience a little credit for having some kind of imagination.  And I actually liked the steampunk-inspired costume designs.

If you didn’t get a chance to catch this production, too bad.  It’s closing seven weeks early due to low ticket sales.