Ranting Details

Lazy Post Of The Day: This Is How You Do It

I must admit that I was hoping for a "Xanadu" upset at last Sunday's Tony Awards.  It was hands down the funniest show I saw last season, and I was ecstatic to see it give the best performance of the broadcast.    Special shout out for Dan Knechtges fantastic, goofy, and wonderfully musical choreography.  Is it just me or did they make Cheyenne Jackson's shorts extra short and tight for the broadcast?  I guess he's gotta hit those high notes somehow. 

Just Play It Cool Boy

A few days ago, while I fought through snot and emotions leading up to my departure to the arctic, I got a phone call from my friend Michelle Dorrance with a very special offer.  Last month Michelle became a full time member of "Stomp," and Tuesday afternoon she was merging with my favorite show Rock 'n' Roll "Xanadu" for the 19th Annual Gypsy of the Year Competition.  After months of fundraising for Broadway Cares Equity Fights Aids, all the shows gather together each year to put on an afternoon of skits, musical numbers, and over dramatic lyrical dances, all in the name of this incredible cause. 

I've always watched these events from afar, through photos and accounts of other theater goers on websites, but despite my cold I was ecstatic at the opportunity to sit in the audience.  The proceedings were hosted by none other than "Xanadu"'s reining goddesses Mary Testa and Jackie Hoffman, who were hindered by the addition of Bob Sagat.  The ladies elicited a barrage of laughter from the audience (mostly industry insiders) while Sagat proceeded to bring things down with his low-brow, and quite frankly, unfunny comedy schtick. 

Regardless of Danny Tanner's hindrance of the hosting duties, they were not the reason anyone was there.  Several shows (notably "Mamma Mia," "The Ritz," "Legally Blonde," and "The Color Purple") pulled out hilarious (and in the case of "Purple," dramatic) musical numbers spoofing various events in the theater world.  Despite their efforts, nothing could even come close to touching the main attraction of the afternoon: a reunion of the surviving members of the original Broadway company of "West Side Story." 

Only a day earlier, I had discussed the brilliance of this show with friends of mine, and suddenly there I was watching theater history.  To say that it was chill inducing, emotional, mesmerizing, touching, or mind-blowing are all vast understatements.  Being the sneaky blogger that I am (and seeing as everyone else around me with cameras noticed that this was an event not to go undocumented) I filmed the "West Side" sequence in its entirety.

Chita Rivera continues to amaze me.  The amount of energy and passion she brings to her sections rivals that of the dancers surrounding her who must be almost 50 years younger.  (A fun tidbit: the dancer standing directly to Rivera's left during the Mambo section is her daughter.) 

Before the show I had the chance to go backstage with Michelle.  We waded through a sea of jazz-pants wearing, vocalizing, splitting, and twirling dancers before arriving at none other than Annie Golden.  For those of you not aware of Golden, she's a fantastic singer who was discovered at CBGB's in the 70's before going on to star in "Hair," "The Full Monty," and most currently as an understudy in "Xanadu."  In addition to those wonderful credits, she did a TV show with my dad years ago while we lived in L.A.

(LOVE IT.)

Michelle introduced me to her, and I had a vague recollection of my dad's association with her, so I figured I would give it a try.  The moment I mentioned my father's name, her eyes lit up and she launched into a recollection of his "big beautiful curly hair," and the fact that he was "moving his family to somewhere like Montana."  My jaw dropped to the floor as she continued to get a kick out of the bizarre connection.   She's such a vivid character and a warm presence that I wanted to spend more time around.  In addition to her glorious singing voice (she starts off the "Stompadu" video below) she speaks in a kewpie doll meets 10-packs of cigarettes rasp that is endearing.  While  I can't quite explain the reasoning behind the Stomp/Xanadu merger, I'm not complaining.  Check it out for yourself below. 

My Name Is Matt, and I'm a Xanaholic

Let's clarify one thing...I'm not addicted to Xanax, I'm addicted to Xanadu!

After my fourth visit to "Xanadu" last night, I am close to renaming "Ranting Details" "The Xanadu Fanadu."  My obsession has reached critical mass and as the increasingly endless strike rages on Broadway, the time to see "Xanadu" is now!   Just about  everything else has been forced to close down for the time being so head to the Helen Hayes theater immediately.  That's an order. 

Walking down 44th Street with Marcelo in the frigid New York air, the sights of the bustling street lined with several large Broadway houses was anything but typical.  Where theater marquees usually illuminate hordes of tourists and theater fans clamoring to their seats, last night all they illuminated was an endless barrage of strikers  Armed with signs, snack stands and news media covering the different groups outside each theater, the strikers weren't enough to stop Marcelo and I from making our way to the little theater that could: the Helen Hayes. 

From the moment we stepped into the lobby, where groups of tourists fought for the few remaining tickets to the sold-out show, I could tell it was going to be a different experience than my previous visits.  The crowd seemed especially revved up, the ushers were donning explosive wigs of neon colors usually reserved for Elmer's glue, and then Cheyenne Jackson took the stage in his booty shorts. 

To call this show a frivolously good time is a severe understatement.  From the moment Jackson takes the stage with his aloof valley boy portrayal of an artist in search of inspiration, it gets me belly laughing like Santa with a few scotch's in him.  After four visits to the show, I'm amazed that it still elicits genuine laughter from me for almost every moment.

Kerry Butler leads the cast as the goddess Clio, forced to take on an Australian accent, don leg warmers and change her name to Kira to help poor Sonny find artistic inspiration.  Somehow I've managed to see Butler in everything she's done, and she's never been better.  Paired with the god-like Jackson, whose voices seems to grow stronger and capable of hitting higher notes (perhaps the booty shorts are squeezing things just a little too tightly) with each time I see the show, I'm more than willing to put up with the very occasional lags in the proceedings.

(A blurry crowd of strikers.)

Belting their way through a pop-rock score that is bound to have you clapping along and dancing in your seat by the end,  each member of the ensemble is a comic star in their own right.  Part of what I've enjoyed so much about my repeat visits to the show is that their interactions with the audience (some of which are seated on stage) are so spontaneous.  They are incredibly endearing as they make their way through the fantastically cheesy, and wonderfully musical choreography.  Half of them aren't dancers but it just adds to the comic joy that the show creates.

It's a testament to the cast, which is one of my favorite ensemble to ever rock the Broadway stage, that they are capable of keeping it fresh for themselves and the audience.  They were obviously thriving off of the extra energy last night- stretching out their hilariously hideous Australian accents or putting an extra jolt in their battements.  Jackie Hoffman and Mary Testa, who steal the show with their rendition of "Evil Woman," were ad-libbing up a storm.  At one point Hoffman stopped a line to run over to one of the audience members seated onstage, (who had been slouching the entire show) shake him and ask him "What is wrong?  Can you sit up already?! Jeez." 

Even though there are the momentary lags in the show(heightened last night by Tony Robert's absence in the role played by Gene Kelly in the movie) I still think this is the most fun I've  ever had at the theater.  When Clio/Kira makes her case for the "human experience made capable through art," I can't help but  be thankful for this show.  Sondheim it's not, but a comedy this tight and superb doesn't come around too often.  Who says good art needs to be serious?  At this point in my life, I'm more than happy to just have a great time.  I even managed to convert Marcelo to a Fanadu.  How many days until I can get my next fix of this disco magic?! 

My New Favorite Medicine

To be honest, I've basically done nothing the past four days except for sleep.  It seems like my whirlwind of photographic adventures caught up with me, and the social factor of my nights at ABT was significantly more draining than I expected.  Today was the first day that I didn't feel like I was sleepwalking upstream and I was able to get some writing done and do some work around my apartment. 

Then, mid-day I got the life-saver text of all text messages, "Comps for "Xanadu" tonight, do you want to go?"  Ummm....yes.  So thanks to Carson and the fabulous DJ, I took four friends and headed to the fantastically campy extravaganza that is "Xanadu."  It was exactly what I needed to put a smile on my face, and I was still laughing my ass off even though it was my third time.  It also doesn't hurt that they have Cheyenne Jackson, with the height of a tree and the arms as thick as my torso,  crooning his little heart out.   They were auctioning off pictures with him after the show.  My friends and I thought about jumping on him like little monkeys, but agreed that they probably wouldn't be too happy with that.  But would HE have been happy?  The world may never know...

I kind of want a poster the size of the one behind Adam, Jake, Cara and I in my apartment.  Or this, but not a poster...