edjames

A reminder to all that Angels In America, the London stage version, is still available on NTLive. Check out the website for viewing times and locations: http://ntlive.nationaltheatre.org.uk An easier and more convenient way to watch superb National Theater productions.

And here we go, guys, you veered off course from East 58th St in NYC to Wisconsin. Wow! Evolve was a big hit when Adonis was there however, as usual, the neighborhood cracked down on the noise, mostly street. I might venture there this Wed night and check it out. The Townhouse Bar (which has stripper on Friday and Saturday nights) is across the street.

RAVE REVIEW from NYTimes....Ben B called it "flat out fabulous" and the performances "vividly drawn, and magnificent." I agree that it is a pretty large commitment of time, as the play is in two parts, so you have to invest at least two nights at the theater or one marathon day. Still, this is a sure Tony winner for best revival and I cannot imagine that Mr. Garfield and Mr. Lane will not among the best actor nominees. Closing date is June 30th, but I cannot imagine that they might extend and perhaps a new cast. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/25/theater/angels-in-america-review-nathan-lane-andrew-garfield.html?rref=collection%2Fsectioncollection%2Farts&action=click&contentCollection=arts&region=rank&module=package&version=highlights&contentPlacement=1&pgtype=sectionfront

Books stores in NYC are few and far between these days. Online is, of course, your best recourse, however, The Strand might have some tucked away. https://www.strandbooks.com

It was a truly entertaining production with a wonderful cast. Brought back many memories of the original and spending time with Ms. Montevecchi backstage at the Martin Beck Theater. Oddly, and I guess they did not want to interrupt the continuity of the show, but no intermission. 1 hour and 45 minutes is a long time to sit.

My reply was to correct your post that this was a London location. As I posted, it is not anywhere near London, and I wanted to rectify the mistake. In answer to your question, "no, I have not been to this property."

NYPost did not like it either... Broadway has robbed ‘Frozen’ of its heart and fun By Johnny Oleksinski March 22, 2018 Caissie Levy stars as Elsa in "Frozen" on Broadway. For its new stage musical “Frozen,” Disney should’ve heeded the sage advice of Queen Elsa: Let it go. Broadway should be the place to see what you can do, to test the limits and break through. No right, no wrong, no rules for thee — you’re free! But that’s wishful thinking. With “Frozen,” the House of Mouse doesn’t let us in, doesn’t let us see. Stays the good Mouse it always has to be. Conceals, doesn’t feel. Doesn’t let us know. Well, here’s what I know: “Frozen” is not a very good show. That’s a shocker because the film, clocking in at a digestible 1 hour and 49 minutes, is so charming. The characters are lovable, the concept is clever and the icy CGI landscapes have a magical Nordic beauty about them. Its Oscar-winning big song by Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, originally sung by Idina Menzel, is Disney’s best in years. But on Broadway, where it’s snowballed to 2 hours 20 minutes, the production’s attempt to replicate the movie onstage has backfired. And not spectacularly. The once lovely story has become visually drab, mechanical and often boring. Cold, if you like. The plot follows the film as closely as a stalker. Little Princess Elsa has the magic power to create ice and snow from her fingertips. The trick is all fun and games till she accidentally turns her sister Anna into a popsicle. So, Elsa slaps on some protective gloves — like spackling a nail hole — and hides away in her room, never coming out for years. Patti Murin and John RiddleDeen van Meer Adult Elsa (Caissie Levy) finally emerges on her coronation day, and inadvertently magicks the Kingdom of Arendelle into the apocalyptic tundra of “The Day After Tomorrow.” The townsfolk hunt down the sorceress, while Grownup Anna (Patti Murin), who was defrosted by the mystical Hidden Folk, sings upbeat love songs with Prince Hans (John Riddle). The act ends powerfully with “Let It Go,” the show’s only thrilling moment. Also along for the sleigh ride are Kristoff (Jelani Alladin) and Sven the Reindeer, as well as Olaf the Snowman, a puppet-human hybrid played by Greg Hildreth, who can be a bit twee. The show checks off every box on the “Frozen” checklist, so why is it so much worse? In a live theater experience, audiences have different expectations than with animated films — namely human connection and relatability. It’s mighty difficult for Elsa to connect with anybody when, for much of the show, she is alone in a faraway ice palace. Separated, the sisters’ relationship becomes murky. How can you really root for them when the only real glimpse we get of the pair is during one early song, “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?,” which takes place during their childhood? You can’t and you don’t. Even so, the two stars of the show manage to frequently rise above the production’s avalanche of limitations. Murin is a gifted comedic actress, who can mine jokes out of anything. And Levy finds the emotional storm raging inside Elsa quite beautifully. She sings the part better than Menzel, too. During “Let It Go,” little girls will absolutely lose their minds. The last time director Michael Grandage tackled a Broadway musical was 2012’s “Evita,” which he inexplicably sapped of all energy and life, as he has done here. His staging is packed with nifty giant icicles (sets by Christopher Oram) and enough snowy projections for a screening of “White Christmas.” But what “Frozen” desperately needs is a bomb cyclone of heart.

At least 8 year-olds don't care about reviews! Perhaps the Iceman Cometh will be better! lol Review: ‘Frozen’ Hits Broadway With a Little Magic and Some Icy Patches FROZEN By JESSE GREEN MARCH 22, 2018 Forget girl power, sisterly love and the high-belt clarion call of “Let It Go.” Anxiety over the handling of a precious gift is the theme that comes through loudest in “Frozen,” the sometimes rousing, often dull, alternately dopey and anguished Disney musical that opened on Broadway on Thursday. The precious gift is not, I hasten to add, the freeze-ray of Queen Elsa, which threatens her kingdom without any corresponding benefits. (Couldn’t they at least hook her up to a gelato machine?) Nor is it the warmheartedness of her sister, Anna, which puts her at constant risk of unelective cryogenesis. No, the precious gift causing so much anxiety at the St. James Theater is the 2013 blockbuster film from which the stage musical has been adapted. After all, $1.3 billion in box office is a lot of ice. Patti Murin, in front of ensemble, makes a madcap Anna in the show, which was directed by Michael Grandage. In ways that are both successful and not, you can feel the director, Michael Grandage, and his design team (sets and costumes by Christopher Oram; lights by Natasha Katz) straining to make something artistically worthy of the property’s commercial promise. At least in comparison with the tryout I reviewed in Denver in September, they’re getting closer. The show’s masterly first 20 minutes, for instance, have been significantly rejiggered since Denver, and show Mr. Grandage getting the back story squared away swiftly. As little girls, Elsa and Anna, princesses of Arendelle, are loving besties until their parents, the king and queen, are forced to separate them once Elsa’s leaky magic grows powerful enough to threaten Anna’s safety. When the girls are then orphaned, the separation becomes permanent. Elsa grows up confined by her power and sense of duty, Anna saddened and rebellious in reaction to their estrangement. It’s like “The Crown” but colder. Eventful and uninterrupted, with no chance to applaud the songs until Anna’s love interest, Prince Hans, appears a third of the way through the first act, the opening suggests that “Frozen” might prove to be unusually coherent for a Disney musical. It is also very beautiful to look at. Certainly it does not attempt to lighten a story that’s fundamentally dark. Ms. Katz’s moody lighting, all amber and gold and sepia on Mr. Oram’s Scandinavian storybook castle, suggests Rembrandt, even if Mr. Grandage was going for the feeling of Shakespeare’s pastoral comedies. You know, Shakespeare pastoral comedies like the one in which Elphaba and Glinda are frenemies. (“Wicked” seems a more obvious template for “Frozen” than “As You Like It.”) In any case, once the castle gates swing open for Elsa’s coronation, letting in townspeople and the requisite Disney cuteness, a different style and palette take over, and “Frozen” begins its long descent into confusion. The problem has nothing to do with the performances, which are never less than professional if seldom much more than that. As Elsa, Caissie Levy booms out her numbers with astonishing aplomb — her “Let It Go” really is sensational — and, as Anna, Patti Murin makes a charming madcap. Both find what nuances they can in characters very narrowly drawn to type. It’s therefore a huge relief, and feels fully genuine, when they get to share a fleeting smile or giggle. Supporting characters get their moments, too: Jelani Alladin, left, as Kristoff and Andrew Pirozzi as the reindeer Sven. But even an elegant solution like that ends up revealing the contradictions baked into the story’s DNA. When Elsa, in the midst of “Let It Go,” transforms from scared little girl to empowered young woman by means of a magical dress trick, it’s the definition of fabulous, but also the definition of Cher. Are we in a Broadway show, an animated movie or a Vegas revue? The confusion cannot be blamed on Jennifer Lee, who wrote and co-directed the movie and has written the book for the musical. Her work is no worse than that of previous Disney adapters, and in its attention to girls as active characters regardless of men, a good deal better. (For Broadway, Elsa has acquired a don’t-mess-with-me pair of appliquéd trousers to replace a filmy nightgown she wore in the tryout.) But as the material Disney wants to handle gets darker — in this case it is positively neurotic — its formulas get harder to justify. Not to the bean counters, obviously. Animated musicals and their offshoots have never been so profitable. But whether “Frozen” will make Disney another billion on Broadway is not my concern. And whether it is suitable family entertainment despite its darkness is a question for parents of young children to decide. The second act seemed to put some of them to sleep — the kids I mean. The question for me is whether Disney, with the endless resources and talent at its disposal, wants to make its own magical transformation into adulthood. Does it want to create serious, coherent modern musicals instead of cartoons that hedge all bets? If so, it may be time to say let it go to the formulas and the merchandisable reindeer.

Seeing this tonite. Review: Divine Decadence Revisited in ‘Grand Hotel’ ENCORES! � GRAND HOTEL, THE MUSICAL Off Broadway, Musical 1 hr. and 45 min. Closing Date: March 25, 2018 City Center, 131 W. 55th St. By BEN BRANTLEYMARCH 22, 2018 Irina Dvorovenko as an aging ballerina and James Snyder as an aristocratic thief in the Encores! production of “Grand Hotel” at City Center. “I’m so nervous. Why?” Tommy Tune, a tower of sartorial splendor in pinstripes and denim, asked at City Center on Wednesday night. “Guess it’s because my baby’s walking without me.” Mr. Tune, the fabled Texas-born showman, was speaking as a member of the opening-night audience for the six-performance Encores! revival of “Grand Hotel, the Musical.” And while this singing, sighing adaptation of Vicki Baum’s 1929 novel about desperate characters in Weimar Berlin has the usual official roster (credited and uncredited) of book and song writers, it has indeed always been regarded as Mr. Tune’s baby. When it opened on Broadway in 1989, after a long and laborious gestation, “Grand Hotel” was acclaimed as a triumph of stagecraft over substance. Few critics seemed thrilled by the songs, the story or even the performances. What sent them into swoons was the look of the show (Tony Walton did the set) and the fluid, endlessly inventive mise-en-scène provided by Mr. Tune, its director and choreographer. “Grand Hotel” went on to run for more than 1,000 performances, a testament to the selling power of creative camouflage. As such, “Grand Hotel” might seem an odd choice for Encores!, which began its life 25 years ago under the rubric of “Great American Musicals in Concert.” In theory, at least, it’s not what you see that counts most at Encores!, but what you hear — preferably some gorgeous, neglected and impeccably performed score of yesteryear. Center, Mr. Snyder, left, and Brandon Uranowitz in the show. The two performed a death-defying Charleston in “We’ll Take a Glass Together.” Still, ever since its minimalist interpretation of “Chicago” slid from City Center to Broadway in 1996, Encores! has been inching ever further into the realm of full-dress productions. As overseen by the director and choreographer Josh Rhodes, with a set by Allen Moyer and costumes by Linda Cho, this “Grand Hotel” is one of the most sumptuous pieces of eye candy ever to glitter from the City Center stage. As for what churns beneath its opulent surface, it’s still a rather dreary slog. But perhaps that’s appropriate for a show about fatal illusions of glamour in a dark and decaying world. The basis of , starring Greta Garbo and John Barrymore, Baum’s novel was a paradigm of the oft-recycled formula that assembles disparate, doomed souls in a single (preferably high-toned) setting and sets them on a collision course (“Ship of Fools,” “Murder on the Orient Express”). In the late 1950s, the team of Luther Davis (book) and Robert Wright and George Forrest (songs) did a stillborn adaptation that closed in San Francisco. Those are the names that are still appended most prominently beneath the title of “Grand Hotel, the Musical.” But when Mr. Tune took on the assignment of artificially resuscitating the show in the late 1980s, he brought in the veteran Broadway composer Maury Yeston (who collaborated with Mr. Tune on “Nine”) and book writer Peter Stone to add snap and sex appeal. Mostly, though, it was Mr. Tune and his design team that made this “Hotel” seem like a four-star establishment. His production told simultaneous, overlapping stories of unraveling lives by keeping its cast in perpetual, precision-tooled motion. And don’t underestimate the appeal of the show’s time and place — Berlin, 1928 — which immediately summoned memories of the sinister Broadway blockbuster “Cabaret.” The Encores! “Grand Hotel,” which deploys what feels like a city-size ensemble, is similarly perfumed in divine decadence. It retains some elements of Mr. Tune’s original staging, including the use of portable, gold wooden chairs, reconfigured in different patterns. Heléne Yorke, far right, who plays a poor but ambitious typist in “Grand Hotel, the Musical.” This production also includes — in addition to the requisite crystal chandeliers and sepulchral lighting (by Ken Billington) — a central red-carpeted staircase that seems to be waiting for Dolly Levi. As in the original, the orchestra (fluidly led, as usual, by Rob Berman) is visibly perched above the action, pouring out weltschmerz-laden melodies that flow like a thick, high-proof dessert wine. The hotel’s population of guests look fab in their period glad rags. They include an over-the-hill ballet star (Irina Dvorovenko, in the Garbo part) who falls in love with an aristocratic thief (Barrymore’s role, played by James Snyder); a poor but ambitious typist (Heléne Yorke), working for a lecherous tycoon on the verge of bankruptcy (John Dossett); and a consumptive Jewish clerk (Brandon Uranowitz) who wants to live, live, live before he expires. As they embody various degrees of love, lust and last-ditch deceptions, a cynical morphine-addicted doctor (William Ryall) oversees the proceedings. “People come, people go,” he observes, immortally. “Look at them — living the high life! But time is running out.” Small wonder that when “Forbidden Broadway” did its (priceless) parody, it was called “Grim Hotel.” Mr. Rhodes’s production isn’t grim, but it’s oddly uninvolving, and only some of the many cast members emanate the vivid magnetism that is a musical’s life blood. They include Ms. Yorke (who has the period glamour poses down pat), Mr. Uranowitz, Mr. Dossett, John Clay III as a beleaguered hotel employee and, as a pair of terpsichorean bartenders, James T. Lane and Daniel Yearwood. Ms. Dvorovenko, who was a star of the American Ballet Theater (and a smash in the Encores! “On Your Toes”), seems too fresh and frisky to portray an aging diva. As her aristocratic suitor, Mr. Snyder has a gleaming trumpet of a tenor. But he generates the most chemistry with Mr. Uranowitz, with whom he performs a death-defying Charleston in the production’s high point, “We’ll Take a Glass Together.” Mr. Rhodes is a skilled traffic cop, and his choreography is appropriately restless and stylish throughout, though this is not the kind of show to make you feel like dancing. Its prevailing tone, of cautionary camp, is made clear when, early on, the cast forms a confrontational line at the stage’s rim. “Look at us!” they seem to be saying. “We are so beautiful and so damned. Envy us! Pity us!” Think of it as a glossy tabloid set to swelling violins.

Bournemouth, not London. Located about 95 miles from London.

NYTimes hated it! Review: ‘Escape to Margaritaville,’ Where Work Is a Dirty Word By JESSE GREEN. MARCH 15, 2018 Paul Alexander Nolan, center, as Tully, a resort-island singer with a passing resemblance to Jimmy Buffett, in the jukebox musical “Escape to Margaritaville.” If ever there were a time to be drunk in the theater, this is it. And the good news is that “Escape to Margaritaville,” the Jimmy Buffett jukebox musical that opened on Thursday, makes getting sloshed on Broadway easier than ever. The lobby at the Marquis Theater has been kitted out as an island-style thatched-hut alcohol fueling station, complete with margaritas for $12 (on the rocks) or $16 (frozen), as well as bottle openers, koozies and other drink-oriented paraphernalia. The bad news is that you still have to see the show. Or at least that was bad news for me, stone cold sober and with enough functioning brain cells to recall the past glory of musicals. If my twentysomething nephew liked “Escape to Margaritaville” better than I did, perhaps that’s because he had two drinks and no historical horror. But if you’re not drunk or a Parrothead, as Mr. Buffett’s fans are called, you’re in trouble. Mr. Buffett’s denatured country-calypso ditties and horndog smarm seem awfully lowbrow, even in a Broadway environment debased for decades by singing cats and candlesticks. It’s quite a comedown in the sing-to-me-of-romance department from “ ” to “ .” That charmer, along with Buffett hits like “Cheeseburger in Paradise,” “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere” and “License to Chill,” form the show’s spine and its ethos, in which rhymes are approximate and sophistication is suspect. Dopey fun is one thing, but “Escape to Margaritaville,” a paean to the pleasures of zipless debauchery, is pitched so low it will temporarily extinguish your IQ. Lisa Howard, left, as Tammy and Eric Petersen as Brick pay tribute to the joys of a “Cheeseburger in Paradise” in the musical. That may be its aim. The story, concocted from clichés that were already droopy when they appeared in almost every other jukebox musical ever written, does not require you to put your thinking cap on. Mostly it asks that you notice the winking way it sets up situations that will later make Mr. Buffett’s lyrics seem as if they were custom fitted to the yarn rather than the other way around. So if the title song (“ ,” a hit in 1977) refers to sponge cake, lost saltshakers and a brand new tattoo, you can be sure that those items will force their way into the plot, the more bizarrely the better. For the record, that plot goes like this: Rachel (Alison Luff) is an uptight environmental scientist; her BFF Tammy (Lisa Howard) is engaged to a jerk. Together, they take a one-week vacation to a rundown, Yelp-disapproved Caribbean hotel called Margaritaville. There, they meet Tully Mars (Paul Alexander Nolan), the laid-back, guitar-strumming on-site entertainer, and Brick (Eric Petersen), the dim but sweet bartender. Do you see where this is going? That theme could make for an amusing scene or two, but Greg Garcia and Mike O’Malley, the authors of the musical’s book, have two hours and 20 minutes to fill. They are clever enough with the punch lines, but twists involving a volcano eruption, a buried treasure and a tap-dancing chorus of zombie insurance agents smell of general despair. Worse, because even vapid jukebox musicals apparently require a moral these days, this one forces Tully to give up his toxic bachelor ways in favor of his singing career, which instantly takes off. And Rachel must realize that being ambitious about her work doesn’t mean she can’t have a man, especially one who has now become a star. Did I mention that her work has something to do with potato power? The story, too, seems to be powered by a tuber. How else to explain why a plot that spends most of its time selling the anti-establishment, no-strings lifestyle concludes like any old-fashioned musical with an island wedding and everyone ecstatically paired? Even the hotel’s tart proprietor (Rema Webb) and resident dirty old man (Don Sparks) are required to hook up. And though “Escape to Margaritaville” means to be feminist — Rachel name-drops Sheryl Sandberg as a hero — it’s a skimpy feminism at best. It utterly fails the Bechdel Test, no doubt thanks to a hangover. With a “Volcano” about to blow, Andre Ward, airborne, as Jamal, leads tourists off the island. As a matter of corporate promotion, though, the musical is totally on point. Tully is the perfect ambassador for the Margaritaville brand, which is built on the idea that you can rent hedonism by the week at a namesake resort or bring it home nightly in a can of LandShark Lager without working a day in your life. Like all such branding, it’s a con, of course; no one but pirates can sustain that lifestyle. And no one with any ambition wants to. Mr. Buffett, Margaritaville’s prototype and mastermind, has a wife and family and 5,000 employees; he works nonstop. That makes “Escape to Margaritaville” even more cynical than the usual jukebox musical, which merely promotes a catalog of songs, not an alcohol-based empire. The director Christopher Ashley’s lumpy, garish production can’t disguise that agenda; nothing could. If the show nevertheless feels basically genial, it’s a tribute to the cast, which is scarily comfortable selling this hooey. Is there nothing Broadway performers can’t do? Or won’t do? Certainly the score is beautifully sung. Mr. Nolan than Mr. Buffett ever did, and Ms. Howard is, as always, . It’s the songs themselves that are problematic. They may work well enough on the radio or in concert but, conscripted for theatrical service, grow quickly monotonous. Reverse engineered from a marketing concept, they seem catchy yet catch nothing; like the show itself, they’re all hooks, no fish.

Despite many, many, many visits to Key West, I cannot recall ever hearing any Jimmy Buffet songs. The reviews are terrible...I'll post the NYTimes review separately. This one, from the NYPost is slightly kinder however when a reviewer says "You could do worse.." it doesn't;t exactly make me want to run out and see it. Sure to be on TKTS and other discounted online sites. ‘Margaritaville’ musical is a paradise for Parrotheads — and no one else By Barbara Hoffman March 15, 2018 "Margaritaville" may not be top-shelf, but it still has a nice buzz.Matthew Murphy Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes, one intermission. Marquis Theatre, 1535 Broadway; 212-382-0100 Cheaper than a week at Club Med and just as mentally stimulating, “Escape to Margaritaville” opened Thursday on Broadway to a sea of Jimmy Buffett fans and a few souls who never guessed cheeseburgers could spark such rapture. This all-you-can-eat Buffett bounced around the country before docking at the Marquis Theatre, which dressed down for the occasion: Adirondack chairs and Tiki-tacky signs fill the lobby while the frozen concoction of the title churns away at the bars. A sippy cup-full costs $16. Go on and get one: It helps set the mood, which is so laid-back, it’s nearly horizontal. When the Hawaiian-shirted usher hands you a Playbill, you half expect a tube of tanning oil to come with it. Speaking of Playbills, this is the rare time a show’s songs — all 26 of them, brilliantly arranged by Christopher Jahnke — have been listed alphabetically, from “A Pirate Looks at 40” to “Why Don’t We Get Drunk.” So while you know your favorite Buffett song is in there, you never quite know when it will pop up. Hence the ripple of excitement that greeted the tower of cheeseburgers (cue up “Cheeseburger in Paradise”) that rolled onto the stage at a recent matinee, which contained more middle-aged straight men than Broadway’s seen since “Rock of Ages.” TV writers Greg Garcia (“My Name Is Earl”) and Mike O’Malley (“Shameless”) have strung together this flimsy hammock of a story, set at an island hotel that an uncharitable Yelper calls “the pimple of the sea.” It’s here, where the cocktail hour never ends, that we meet Tully (Paul Alexander Nolan). He’s a guitar-strumming slacker who plays with the band and beds a bevy of guests before being brought to his tanned knees by an environmental scientist from Cincinnati. That would be Rachel (Alison Luff), who’s come not for fun, but for soil samples — and to keep her BFF, Tammy, from marrying her despicable fiancé. Love rears its head, not only between Rachel and Tully but Tammy and the hotel’s bartender. Even a grizzled, one-eyed barfly gets some action, after popping a Viagra or two. (There’s a vibrator joke in here as well.) It’s all peppered with Buffett’s hits, a few of which he’s tweaked to suit the plot and the times, like the reference to Mar-a-Lago that bubbles up in “Volcano.” Some of his new songs fall flat, including one thankless number that’s the first, and hopefully last, to name-check Sheryl Sandberg. Directed by Christopher Ashley, hot off a Tony for “Come From Away,” “Escape to Margaritaville” meanders along pleasantly enough. Its appeal may last only as long as there are Parrotheads around to see it, but it helps that the show’s so well cast and sung. Nolan, who made a fine son of God in “Jesus Christ Superstar,” is a lovely leading man. (“I think he should take his shirt off more often,” one theatergoer murmured.) André Ward brings a Harry Belafonte-esque lilt and ukulele to “Volcano,” while Don Sparks, with his warm chuckle of a voice, makes the barfly come alive, even as he spends Act 1 searching for his lost shaker of salt: Never has a Broadway song been given such a buildup — nor closed with as many beach balls. You could do worse than waste away a couple of hours in “Margaritaville.”

I saw this new production last night and I'm happy ti say that I thought it was excellent. I've seen several productions over the years. The last was the Lincoln Center NYPhil version starring Kelli O'Hara and Nathan Gunn in 2013. That was hard to top, but this one certainly tries very hard. Yes, the casting is a bit odd. Black man, white woman but it soon fades away and wears off. As with many Rodgers/Hammerstein productions there is a dark side to the story. “Carousel” tells the tragic story of carnival barker Billy Bigelow and his ill-fated marriage to New England millworker Julie Jordan, balanced against the comic romance of Julie’s best friend, Carrie Pipperidge, and ambitious fisherman Enoch Snow. Billy is abusive and has a quick temper. The musical was adapted from Ferenc Molnár's 1909 play Liliom, transplanting its Budapest setting to the Maine. As Jigger Craigin, the rough ex-con who leads Billy astray, NYCB star, Amar Ramasar does not disappoint. His good looks and toned body, not to mention his excellent dancing skills, make you wish he had more to do. Joshua Henry has a powerful and commanding voice. I'll be the first to admit that I was not familiar with his previous work. Jessie Muller is excellent as Julie. Brittany Pollack dances the Act 2 beach ballet, detailing the unhappy life of Billy’s 15-year-old daughter, with sensitivity. In a nonsinging role, Margaret Colin is very good as Mrs. Mullin, Billy’s boss and sometime lover. It was good to see her back on stage. The music is classic Broadway and the score is one of my favorites. The ballad "If I Loved You," is breathtaking. The choreography is very good. The sets are minimal. All in all, a very fulfilling and entertaining evening of theater.

If you're arriving at Port Authority, you'll be in Hell's Kitchen (HK) which is full of trendy gay clubs and bars. A short walk to many locations. You might want to try Therapy 348 W 52nd St, or Flaming Saddles 793 9th Av, or Posh 405 W 51 St, or Hardware 697 10th Av. Any of the online sites can assist you.

This gay play has been running at the Soho Playhouse for awhile. Friends saw it and liked it. I wasn't that thrilled. The NYTimes called it "devastatingly funny." A one-man monologue, actor, Jeff Hiller as the character Gerry, gives the audience a drug and alcohol fueled rant. Invited to a gay wedding in Palm Springs Gerry arrives at a tacky house/bandb(?) where he encounters his older friend (ex roommate/boyfriend), and his friend's latest boytoy at the pool. Drinks are poured and Gerry's invectives towards, well everyone, begin. It's a rant that never ends and soon wears on your nerves as Gerry's loud and obnoxious voice begins to grate on your nerves. As the day/evening progresses, Gerry becomes worse, has more to drink and indulges in a bevy of drugs. No one is spared his evil mouth. Gerry hates everyone. I found it less than funny and at times I thought to myself "Is this the portrait of gay men we want to portray?" Evil, mean, selfish, alcoholic and drug addict? Directed by Michael Urie, I left feeling that the play would have been better presented had Michael himself took on the role. It's running for a few more weeks. I am told it ends its run on April 1.

For me, two people stood out I the original production. The first, Michael Jeter, who won a Tony as best Featured Actor in a Musical, and secondly, the wonderfully talented Liliane Montevecchi, who was nominated for a Tony. Memorable performances.

Grand Hotel, The Musical Mar 21 – 25, 2018 Tickets start at $35 Encores! A faded ballerina, a Baron who moonlights as a burglar, a dying bookkeeper, a businessman facing certain ruin, and a young secretary all-too-eager to become an American film star are all trapped by history, as the world careens into a great depression, and the revolving door keeps turning. Grand Hotel, The Musical features music and lyrics by Robert Wright and George Forrest, a book by Luther Davis, and additional music and lyrics by Maury Yeston. When the show opened on Broadway in 1989 it was a hit—winning five Tony awards and running for 1,017 performances. Book your reservation for the mysterious and luxurious Grand Hotel, The Musical. Cast & Credits Book by Luther Davis Music and Lyrics by Robert Wright and George Forrest Based on Vicki Baum’s Grand Hotel By arrangement with Turner Broadcasting Co., owner of the motion picture Grand Hotel Additional Music and Lyrics by Maury Yeston Featuring The Encores! Orchestra Encores! Artistic Director Jack Viertel Encores! Music Director Rob Berman Directed and Choreographed by Josh Rhodes Starring Junior Cervila, John Clay III, Natascia Diaz, John Dossett, Irina Dvorvenko, Guadalupe Garcia, Nehal Joshi, James T. Lane, Jamie LaVerdiere, Eric Leviton, Robert Montano, Kevin Pariseau, William Ryall, James Snyder, Brandon Uranowitz, Daniel Yearwood With Aaron J. Albano, Matt Bauman, Kate Chapman, Sara Esty, Hannah Florence, Richard Gatta, Emily Kelly, Andrew Kruep, Kelly Methven, Harris Milgrim, Adam Roberts, Christopher Trepinski, Sharrod Williams

WilliamM...I would strongly suggest you check out ticket availability for Harry Potter and The Cursed Child. It is sold-out, unless you want premium seating. Also, it too is in two parts, so at least 2 nights at the theater for that show, too.

And now on Broadway. I caught an early preview last night, and with the exception that studly handsome Brit actor, Russell Tovey did not transition from the London cast (I had been looking forward to seeing him again on Broadway), this is still an excellent production. Nathan Lane and Andrew Garfield reprise their lead roles. Nathan as the despicable, evil, ruthless Roy Cohn, and Andrew as Prior, the gay man, dying of AIDS, whom the play revolves around. Intense, brutally honest and relevant in today's world, this play does not disappoint. Interestingly, the "Republican" lines resonated with the audience in today's political climate. The audience loved it. Rousing standing ovation, and well-deserved, I might add, although at 3+ hours, it is a bit of a theatrical marathon. I miraculously survived the AIDS crisis. The virus still with us, and although there are new and much improved drugs and treatments, I well remember those who literally fell off the face of the earth during the early 80's and died quickly because doctors had no idea how to treat them. The government stood silent against the plague and refused to do anything. Not only was this true of the Reagan administration, but here in NYC, we can blame Mayor Koch and others for their refusals to acknowledge the crisis. Gay men and women organized and found ways to help their brethren cope with devastation. This play drags up personal painful memories for me, but I did enjoy this production. I've seen a few others over the years. I did not go to the original production as I was so burned out from attending funerals, memorial services and donating my time and monies to AIDS charities in the 80's and early 90's, that I needed a respite from the crisis. That said, I look forward to next Sunday's performance of part2. Interestingly, if you caught Nathan Lane on Stephen Colbert a couple of weeks ago, he talked about Roy Cohn's influence on our current "leader" (He Who Shall Nt Be Named) and how Cohn taught him how to deflect criticism and accusation by accusing others, pointing the finger in the other direction, and when everything else fails, deny, deny, deny. Interesting perspective and commentary from Nathan. Definite Tony noms for Nathan and Andrew. ED

NYTimes review of the updated cast for Hello Dolly: Review: The ‘Dolly’ Parade Marches On, Now With a New Star Bernadette Peters, who is taking over the role of Dolly Levi in “Hello, Dolly!” from Bette Midler. The hit musical revival introduced four fresh principals on Thursday evening. CreditSara Krulwich/The New York Times A dimply new star has joined the cast of “Hello, Dolly!” and he’s delightful — oh wait. Perhaps you weren’t asking about Charlie Stemp, the replacement Barnaby Tucker in the hit musical revival that introduced four fresh principals on Thursday evening. O.K., then: A dimply new star has joined the cast of “Hello, Dolly!” and she’sdelightful. And something more, too. Bernadette Peters, who turns 70 next week, doesn’t need to step into anyone’s shoes at this point in her 60-year Broadway career. That she would take over the role of Dolly Levi from Bette Midler (and her alternate, Donna Murphy) means she was interested in the challenge, not the provenance. I imagine she understood that there was something she could bring to the part that no one else could. That something is not a stage personality filled with gregarious high spirits. Ms. Peters is neither the hoyden type nor the winking type, at least not since her days as a self-parodying chorine. Where Ms. Midler wrung laughs from a line like “I’m tired, Ephraim, tired of living from hand to mouth” — sometimes even pretending to collapse in decrepitude — Ms. Peters doesn’t even go for a giggle. She makes it clear that Dolly is talking about real hardships: the anxiety of work and the loneliness of a widow. Ms. Peters is in fact a widow. (Her husband died in a helicopter crash in 2005.) So is Ms. Murphy, who nevertheless seemed to revel, like Ms. Midler, in the role’s brightest colors. For all the thoughtfulness she brought to the character, Ms. Murphy was more than comfortable with Dolly’s swanning tours of the passerelle; she giddily partook in the loop of absorption and reflection that eventually whips the audience’s love into a kind of hysteria. Ms. Peters gets all that, and returns it. She sings the Jerry Herman songs thrillingly, of course. But if her performance is more like Ms. Murphy’s than like Ms. Midler’s, it has an even darker underlay. I don’t mean that she isn’t funny; she is — though I’m not sure I really believed, in the famous scene at the Harmonia Gardens, that a woman so disciplined in her diet that she will eat just “three smiles of grapefruit” for breakfast would ever chow down on the giant turkey leg set before her. Photo The darkness is more of an aura or predilection. Ms. Peters seems most truly herself not in charm numbers like “I Put My Hand In” but in spoken or sung soliloquies like “Before the Parade Passes By.” In such moments Dolly, the old meddler, isn’t conning anyone; she’s being honest with herself. The final scenes, even as they bring her financial and marital woes to an end, are heartbreaking in the way all successful campaigns are if looked at closely enough. That’s something you don’t really expect to see in a 1960s musical comedy, especially one as lovingly and successfully reincarnated as “Hello, Dolly!” is in Jerry Zaks’s revival. The explosion-in-a-Necco-factory sets and costumes (by Santo Loquasto) and the eccentric Gower Champion choreography, restaged by Warren Carlyle, continue to astonish; you actually gasp at the hats and postures. But a gap may be opening up between the production’s style and Ms. Peters’s. Mr. Stemp and the other new principals — Victor Garber as Dolly’s intended, Horace Vandergelder; Molly Griggs as the milliner’s assistant, Minnie Fay — match the bright polish of the original cast, which has grown a bit zany with time. Mr. Garber has a breezier take on Vandergelder than did David Hyde Pierce; the subtext of his bluster is never really in doubt. Ms. Griggs is charming and light as a bubble. And Mr. Stemp, as a 17-year-old clerk looking for adventure, doesn’t seem so much excitable as convulsive. Mr. Carlyle has given him some acrobatic new dance moves to make hay of his hyperkinesis. Ms. Peters goes along with all this, to a point. But sometimes I felt she would rather observe the parade than be in it. (Showbiz was never her idea.) Personally, I’m a sucker for that: I think it gives this “Dolly” a fascinating new valence. And “Dolly” can handle it. After all, it has accommodated actresses as different as Carol Channing (the original) and Tovah Feldshuh over the years. However peppy and farcical it gets, it is built on a strong foundation; Michael Stewart’s book draws heavily on the dramatic and real-world wisdom of its immediate source, Thornton Wilder’s “The Matchmaker.” That play, itself worth reviving, is filled with philosophical asides that the musical borrows almost whole. “The surest way to keep us out of harm is to give us the four or five human pleasures that are our right in the world,” goes the best of these asides, and as spoken passionately by Ms. Peters, herself one of those four or five human pleasures, it has never sounded so true. “And that takes a little money,” she adds. Also true.

Why? One easy answer...I ALREADY HAVE TICKETS for Three Tall Women and Angels In America. I'm still debating Carousel. I've seen several productions over the years. Also, I guess you don't realize that sometimes a new lead can bring a new experience to a show (see NYT review) and I delight in everything that is Bernadette. She is the consummate performer. ED

Saw Bernadette last night, she was terrific, as is this production. How do you replace a legend? You get another legend! This is a great production with a new cast and they all are superb. This is classic Broadway theater and the audience loved it and was on their feet screaming and applauding before the curtain fell. I will try to see this show again. Of note is the adorable actor/dancer Charlie Stems in the role of Barnaby Tucker. This kid was amazing. A relative unknown up until recently, he hails from the UK, where he received glowing notices in the revival of Half A Sixpence. His professional debt, not that long ago, was his role as a monkey in Wicked! Look out for this kid, he's a bundle of talent. http://static.playbill.com/dims4/default/29a9668/2147483647/crop/2021x1138%2B6%2B0/resize/970x546/quality/90/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fstatic.playbill.com%2F36%2F61%2Ff2fe57a6465eb7091de1d296bb34%2Fcharlie-stemp.jpg

Either date works for me. 5Napkin is one of my fave places, in fact, I ate at the HK location late last night after theater.

Today's NYT features Johnny and Tara off the ice at the Olympics... What’s Inside Johnny Weir’s Hotel Room at the Olympics By KAREN CROUSEFEB. 16, 2018 Never mind the athletes they are covering; by virtue of the unadorned honesty of their commentary and the haute-couture majesty of their wardrobes, Weir and Lipinski have become must-see TV. Weir, 33, has his hair swept into a bird nest — two women help him style his hair and do his makeup each day — and wears sequined blazers over layers of leather and lace. Lipinski, 35, wears small dresses and high heels, which she can get in and out of in less time than it took her to complete a short program. On Friday, she strolled into Weir’s room for an interview wearing jeans and a casual top. Upon finding out she and Weir would be videotaped, she slipped out of the room. She returned 1 minute 50 seconds later wearing a fire-engine-red mini dress and heels.“I make fun of how small her dresses are,” Weir said. “That’s why she has less luggage than me, because her dresses are napkin-sized.” Some globe-trotters collect decorative spoons or native art as keepsakes. Not Weir, who arrived here with suitcases (13!) filled with mementos of his uncharted journey from a self-described country bumpkin to a global personality. “My clothing are my treasures, my Picassos,” Weir said. “I didn’t grow up with much, so when I purchase something or own something, it’s more about the experiences that I had to be able to afford that thing, the memory of where I bought it.” He added: “Everything has meaning. It isn’t just a sparkly jacket.” (Another answer to TV viewers’ questions: Weir wears designer clothes but also shops at discount outlets like TJ Maxx.) It was the second Friday of the Olympics, and Weir and Lipinski had just returned to their spalike Richard Meier-designed hotel after a 10-hour work day that was still a few hours from being a wrap. Weir’s jewelry — hardly the usual gear for a sports commentator. CreditHilary Swift for The New York Times They had just called the men’s short program, the same event where at the 2006 Winter Games in Turin, Italy, Weir emerged as the second-best skater on his way to a fifth-place finish. With a little more than an hour before their presence was required at a production meeting, they huddled to coordinate their next-day’s outfits. Six months before these Games, their second as a broadcasting team, Lipinski and Weir began talking about their Olympic wardrobes. They receive some clothing on loan from designers (one accessory in Weir’s collection was last worn by Pink), but still rely mostly on outfits they pull from their closets. “We’re pretty on point,” Weir said. They trust each other’s tastes and are quick to come to each other’s rescue when a fashion disaster strikes. Earlier in the week, Lipinski experienced an on-air wardrobe malfunction when the lining of her dress sneaked up her leg. During a break, a few people formed a circle around Lipinski, who allowed Weir to stick his hand under her dress and pull the lining down as if it were a window blind. “Only Johnny can fix it,” Lipinski said with a laugh. During broadcasts, a steady stream of spectators sidestep the solicitous ushers and climb the stairs to where Weir, Lipinski and their other broadcasting partner, Terry Gannon, are perched and surreptitiously snap their photographs. On their way in and out of the Gangneung Ice Arena, they are surrounded by selfie seekers. Lipinski pointing out some of her favorite shoes from Weir’s collection. CreditHilary Swift for The New York Times They have been in the public eye more than half their lives, and they take the attention in stride. “I grew up lower-middle class in the middle of Pennsylvania,” said Weir, who is from Coatesville and is now based in Philadelphia. “My parents always talked about the importance of being who you are and if you are different, celebrating that and being as special as you can be,” Weir said, adding, “So when choosing the things I wear or the things I say, it really does come from the heart because that’s all I know. I don’t know how to create an image. I don’t know how to be premeditated.” They bring to their presentation and their performance the same meticulousness and drive that fueled their success as athletes. Their workday starts before sunrise and usually doesn’t end until after dark, which leaves them little time to drink in the glorious views from their adjoining rooms at the resort hotel, which overlooks the East Sea, Gyeongpo Lake and the Taebaek Mountains. Weir owns an impressive collection of brooches, and yet neither he nor Lipinski has traded a single Olympic pin. As Weir noted, who are they going to barter with, each other? “We’re more likely to trade earrings,” he said. Weir saying goodbye to Lipinski, whose room is next door. They often work 18-hour days together during the Olympics.CreditHilary Swift for The New York Times And nine days into these Games, they hadn’t made it to the mountains where many of the events are being held, although they came prepared, packing warm boots and clothing that is ski-lodge chic just in case. “We’ve been to a lodge that looks like a ski area,” Weir said. They see a lot of each other, and that suits them fine. On Friday, they spent several minutes fingering through each other’s wardrobe as they tried to settle on outfits for the men’s long program. Lipinski started with Weir’s shoes. She pointed to the diamond-encrusted pair he wore last year to her wedding to the sports producer Todd Kapostasy, in which he served as brides-man. “Johnny had to stand out,” Lipinski said, “so these are customized shoes that I got for him.” At the end of an 18-hour workday, Weir returns to his room where, surrounded by the blazers he discovered while skating in Paris, the shoes he stumbled on in Japan, the leather pants he was thrilled to find in Italy and all his other beautiful couture comforts, he can put his wardrobe decisions to rest. Weir, whose every waking hour is spent obsessing over form and fashion, always wears the same thing to bed. “I find myself feeling more sexy and comfortable if I’m in the nude for sleeping,” he said.

At the Atlantic Theater Co. I saw this production last night and loved it. Terrific cast and tale. Written by Martin McDonagh ( award winning director/writer of Three Billboards in Ebbing Mo.). Long rumored to be gay, he's written a slew of plays, many which have been produced on Broadway and the West End. His latest, Hangman, is a twisted and eerie tale story set in a northern England run-down pub, run by a man who's former job was a hangman. Britain outlawed hanging in the early '60's and Harry has settled in this little town and bought a pub. He lives with his wife and 16-yer-old daughter. The pub is typical of many British pubs and is inhabited by a group of regulars. However the plot is infused with fast actions and deeds, The story is outlined in the review below and I've also included Michael rider's piece on the show's sold-out success and eventual transfer to Broadway this spring. Of note is the appearance in Act 2 of Maxwell Caufield as the "other" hangman. Harry's arch rival. Johnny Flynn is great as the stranger who shows up to stir the pot. One is never quite sure of what his ambitions or motives might really be. ‘Three Billboards’ writer is Broadway-bound By Michael Riedel February 8, 2018 | 6:57pm | A very sock-and-buskin moment in "Hangmen" McDonagh’s dark new farce, “Hangmen,” opened at off-Broadway’s Atlantic Theater Company space this week to strong reviews. Tickets are impossible to come by, but plans are in the works to move the production to Broadway’s Cort Theatre just before the April 26 Tony-eligibility cutoff date. Which means “Hangmen” will square off against that juggernaut from London, “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.” “Harry Potter,” opening at the Lyric Theatre April 22, has an advance of over $15 million. Every time new blocks of tickets go on sale, they’re snapped up within hours. It’s also the only new play slated to open on Broadway this spring. Everything else — including “Angels in America,” “Three Tall Women,” “The Iceman Cometh” and “Children of a Lesser God” — is a revival. “Hangmen” is a sublimely creepy play. It’s set in the mid-’60s in a pub owned by Harry Wade, the second-best hangman in England. The death penalty has just been abolished and the news attracts an assortment of characters to Harry’s bar. Not all of them are who they appear to be. “Hangmen” won the Olivier Award in 2016. The superb London cast includes Johnny Flynn, Reece Shearsmith, Sally Rogers and former “Game of Thrones” star Mark Addy. All will make the move to Broadway and will probably fill the ranks of Tony nominees. Review: A Criminally Enjoyable ‘Hangmen’ From Martin McDonagh Reece Shearsmith, left, and Johnny Flynn in “Hangmen,” Please allow him to introduce himself, not that he’s remotely shy about doing so. He’s a man of stealth and taste, a smooth talker out of 1960s London who dresses like a Teddy boy and seduces with buttery brashness. The name of this spiffy young devil, whose contemptuous charm is dripping from the stage of the Linda Gross Theater, is Mooney. He’s a dab hand at misdirection, the sort of fellow who sets even stolid minds spinning in paranoia and perplexity. Mooney, it must be said, has a lot in common with the artful playwright who created him. Left to right: Sally Rogers and Mark Addy as a former hangman and his wife, Mr. Flynn as a menacing stranger who visits their pub, and David Lansbury as a policeman in Martin McDonagh’s play. More at : https://www.nytimes.com/2018/02/05/theater/review-hangmen-martin-mcdonagh-atlantic-theater-company.html?rref=collection%2Fsectioncollection%2Ftheater&action=click&contentCollection=theater&region=stream&module=stream_unit&version=latest&contentPlacement=7&pgtype=sectionfront