Musicals That Aren't "Gay": "Gypsy"

Too often musical theatre is identified with homosexuality or senility. Sure, lots of impotent old men and perfectly potent gays (I have nothing against either group) enjoy a good Broadway show, but believe it or not there ARE good, cutting-edge productions out there! You wouldn't know it though, because all you ever hear about are old, blah shows that can be lumped into the "old, gay" category! "Lil' Abner." "Oklahoma." Musical theatre my ass! Thus, occasionally I will present to you a truly great, timeless musical. You won't like 'em all. But someone in there I bet one will catch your eye, your ear, your heart. I WILL sell you on the power of theatre if I have to do the hokey-pokey in a puddle of piss.
TODAY'S SHOW:
"Gypsy"-
What it's about: Rose Hovick and her agent/sometime lover Herbie, are driving June and Louise, Rose's kids from a failed marriage, down the complicated road of showbiz. As time goes on, Rose becomes jealous of her children's talent and begins to obsessively manage their careers. Ultimately, June runs off and starts her own act, and Herbie leaves, tired of Rose's domineering personality. Louise becomes a famous stripper, and shuts her mother out of her life entirely. In the thrilling final moments, Rose is left alone on stage to perform a delusional fake striptease, exorcise old demons, and generally suffer a mental breakdown that leaves her capable of saying only the words "FOR ME! FOR ME!". Louise walks in on her mother in mental shambles and helps her up as the curtain falls, visibly shaken.
Why you'll hear it's "gay": The sad usual. Crappy community theatre productions and overdone movie versions have given "Gypsy" a bad rap.
Why it's great: "Gypsy" is an unusually complex musical. It starts off as a typical relationship drama, but it doesn't end where you think it would-how many shows end with their lead character on the brink of total insanity. The final breakdown, "Rose's Turn" is the most brilliantly constructed and surprising four minutes in the history of theatre. Several productions of the show have been put on professionally, but only the recent revival (I SAW IT) starring, in my opinion, the greatest living entertainer, Patti LuPone, managed to do the slam-dunk material justice.
The Scene: From the LuPone production. June has just run off, and Rose sings a disturbingly seductive (and oh so catchy jingle) to persuade her other daughter into the spotlight.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXl10a9gJwA&feature=related

I Make Movie Review: "Rachel Getting Married"

Early Oscar buzz tends to rape a film (anally, very hard) and leave it for dead. People get sick of the movie, pass it like a kidney stone, and forget it all together come awards time. It happened to "Dreamgirls" and "Atonement". And "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" and "Brokeback Mountain". Heaven forbid Oscar buzz kills the chances of "Rachel Getting Married", cause this one deserves some serious awards attention. Anne Hathaway is guaranteed some overdue love as Kym, a toxically self-absorbed nutjob released from rehab to attend her sister Rachel(Rosemarie DeWitt)'s wedding. Weaving a troubled tapestry of venal self-abuse and still reeling from a years-old family tragedy, Kym is out to rip open old wounds and get some vicarious kicks through the pain of the all-too-real, all-too-flawed wedding guests. Sound like a soap opera? Hell to the no. Screenwriter Jenny Lumet and director Jonathan Demme refuse to let you watch this madness unfold from a distance. With long takes and careful pacing, they insist that you involve yourself in this mosaic of very real family troubles, demand that you care. And care you do-thanks to the ensemble cast. There isn't a single weak link in the entire core group of actors, a rarity in this day and age. Particular stand-outs are Bill Irwin, subtly affecting as the girls doting dad, DeWitt, who can convey a thousand meanings with her simple but piercing smile, and Debra Winger as Kym's estranged mother, whose third-act temper tantrum is one of the most jarring scenes ever committed to celluloid. At the center of it all is Hathaway, who lets every quicksilver emotion play out on her face-and not just the obvious ones. Is it perfect? No. The climactic wedding is painfully drawn out, and the laundry list of troubled pasts becomes a bit of a bother to keep up with. Still, stick with this flawed gem, because "Rachel Getting Married" is what happens when a group of fearless artists get together to make something ballsy yet accessible. A-

The Overture (an explanation)

You don't like overtures. No one does. In fact, many would argue the overture was introduced simply to give a theatre going audience a chance to finish that candy, call the babysitter, or finish their bout of mental masturbation to a hot actress with windblown plastic hair whose photograph appears in the program. Believe it or not, the overture has a purpose; introduce the central melodies and motifs of the show, and get people in the mood for a helluva night at the theatre. Modern productions of shows cut overtures and I don't like it. The audience is baptized head on into this world of the stage,not primed for it and eased into it. "Gypsy" has the perfect overture-its wildly shifting keys, jazzy brass, and urgent drums prepare us for a night of glittery, old-fashioned showbiz delight paired with shrewd, deeply felt backstage drama. My point is, if you are willing to actually LISTEN, a well-done overture eases your mind out of the daily grind and filters it into a new world-the one a dedicated cast and crew has worked hard to create for you. Plus, by the time you have finished the overture, you should have a pretty solid idea regarding exactly what world you will be entering-I don't think anyone listens to the opening notes of "Les Miserables" and expects gold hats and dancing chorus girls. So before I plunge you head for into MY weird world, I think you deserve an overture of sorts-or at least a warning of what you're getting into.
I am an actor, a writer, a singer. These are the things I do.
I love often and easily.
I eat frequently and unhealthily.
I dance rarely and terribly.
I think, all the time and generally about meaningless things.
I philosophize, endlessly and at length.
And most importantly, I change, minute by minute, breath by breath.
In this blog I will try to sort out my own life and attempt to point you, the flabbergasted reader, towards art that needs to be appreciated, or ideas that need to be spread.
Or sometimes I will just let my thoughts bleed onto cyber-paper as if they came directly from the slit throat of an innocent, white-tailed bunny.
We shall see.
End Overture.
Curtain up!