What? You mean there was a basketball game on TV last night?
I mean, I knew I was going to miss “The Next Food Network Star” and “HGTV Design Star” because of the Tony Awards broadcast, but the NBA Finals? I had no idea. They sure didn’t promote that very much, did they?
Despite the hype, the Tonys only managed to average a 4.3 rating and an 8 share in the Nielsen overnights. I guess those cable reality shows really pulled in the viewers. So if you were among those who were watching Bobby Flay and Clive Pearse (or, incredibly, Kobe Bryant and Phil Jackson), here are some highlights from the American Theatre Wing’s 62nd Annual Antoinette Perry Awards:
The opening: The show started with the famous “Circle of Life” number from The Lion King. Now, if that doesn’t tell you something about the state of new Broadway musicals, I don’t know what does. The Lion King opened in 1997. What? The producers didn’t think there was anything from this season—hell, anything from this century—that could lure viewers in? Sad.
Whoopi Goldberg as host: Her theatrical cred is a little lacking (she did replace Nathan Lane in the Broadway revival of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, but the Tony she “won” was as one of the 632 producers of 2002’s Best Musical winner, Thoroughly Modern Millie), but not everyone is Hugh Jackman or Angela Lansbury.
Whoopi’s entrance was intended to mimic her best-known turn as host of the Oscars, in 1999, when she came on stage in full Queen Elizabeth I/Shakespeare in Love regalia. This time, at the end of the Lion King number, she entered clad as Sebastian the Crab from Disney’s stage production of The Little Mermaid. The gag was that she had dressed for the wrong Disney show. Funny, but the shtick didn’t lead into a Billy Crystal-like monologue; it was rushed and pointless.
Another Whoopi moment was equally uncomfortable (when she brought a presenter onstage and then excused herself because she “had to pee”—kind of tacky for the Tonys). But most of her other bits—in which she was shown as part of the cast of current Broadway shows—were inspired. I especially enjoyed her being flown on as Mary Poppins and trying to sing the role of Christine in The Phantom of the Opera.
Whoopi was at her best when she introduced the four snippets of scenes from the shows nominated for Best Play. She displayed infectious enthusiasm for the shows and real love for the theater.
The Tonys, which have not had a regular host since 2005, could do a lot worse than to invite Whoopi Goldberg back again next year.
Scenes from the Nominated Musicals: A mixed bag. I loved the number from Cry-Baby, with the inmates dancing with license plates instead of tap shoes on their feet. Passing Strange, a rock concert with a minimal autobiographical plot written in part by its self-indulgent star, the mono-named “Stew,” came off as loud and repetitive. In the Heights offered up its title song, an ingratiating production number that requires you to believe that New York Latinos speak in African-American urban hip-hop dialect. The stage version of the flop-turned-camp-classic Xanadu is not a faithful re-creation of the movie, but a parody of it. You’d never know from the dead-serious approach the cast took to the title song. It looked less like a loving send-up of camp than it did just a truly bad musical.
Scenes from the Non-Nominated Musicals: Several newly mounted or revived shows this season were well received either by critics or by audiences, but not by both, and thus found themselves passed over by the Tony nominating committee. These shows were given the opportunity to strut their stuff last night, again with mixed results. The normally reliable Faith Prince was off-key in the extreme with a ballad from A Catered Affair that one might call “subtle and understated.” Or one might call “boring.” There was nothing boring about Sierra Boggess singing “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid. She floated around the stage on her wheelies, with a tail on her that bobbed and weaved so much I got seasick. It was an unintentional hoot. On the other hand, Megan Mulally was a completely intentional hoot singing “Deep Love” from Young Frankenstein. She made me want to see the show.
Scenes from the Nominated Revivals: Other than Grease (whose title song was sung amateurishly and staged unimaginatively), the nominated revivals came across better than anything else on the Great White Way last night. The medley of three songs from South Pacific (“There is Nothing like a Dame,” “Some Enchanted Evening” and “A Wonderful Guy”) proved why Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein will be cultural giants long after “Stew” has boiled over. I was shocked to see Act Two George portrayed as gay in the revival of Sunday in the Park with George, but this legitimate choice gave Daniel Evans a chance to amp up his emotions in his too-brief duet of “Move On” with Jenna Russell. (I hope Evans is butching it up in Act One, though.)
Finally, of course, there was Patti LuPone in “the role she was born to play,” Mama Rose in Gypsy. Belting out “Everything’s Coming Up Roses,” La LuPone was every bit the force of nature she’s been reported to be—and that the role of Rose demands. Thrilling. It was the highlight of the show for me. (As opposed to her acceptance speech later on, when she appeared to carp at the Tony voters for not having won since 1980.)
Speaking of Acceptance Speeches: I have to say I have a problem with non-African-Americans rapping and employing the sounds and gestures of urban hip-hop youth. It was embarrassing when Vanilla Ice did it, and it’s no more authentic sounding when it comes from the mouth of Lin-Manuel Miranda, who wrote and stars in In the Heights. Looking all shocked that he won for Best Score, he launched into a rap about the show that belied his surprised expression. Even his shout-out to Stephen Sondheim (“Look, Mr. Sondheim, I made a hat / Where there never was a hat / A Latin hat at that”) seemed, like his reference to “my man Cole Porter” in the show’s title song, a mere contrivance intended to convince the Broadway establishment of his respect for the great songwriters of the past.
Sondheim himself had an acceptance speech to give, for a Lifetime Achievement Tony, but he wasn’t in attendance, so he had the ever-strange Mandy Patinkin (sporting the beard of a Hasidic Jew) read it for him. It was humble, gracious and forthright: He acknowledged that, as he ages, he is terribly afraid of not living up to the expectations such an award bestows. But he promised achievements yet to come. I believe he’ll deliver.
The award for Strangest Acceptance Speech of the Last, oh, Millennium or So went to Mark Rylance, who won Best Actor in a Play for his role in Boeing-Boeing. His apparent ramblings about appropriate attire in various circumstances were actually a recitation of a “prose poem,” though he didn’t identify it by title or author. It’s “Back Country,” by the obscure Midwestern poet Louis Jenkins, though for millions it will always just be the weird actor’s weird acceptance speech:
I mean, I knew I was going to miss “The Next Food Network Star” and “HGTV Design Star” because of the Tony Awards broadcast, but the NBA Finals? I had no idea. They sure didn’t promote that very much, did they?
Despite the hype, the Tonys only managed to average a 4.3 rating and an 8 share in the Nielsen overnights. I guess those cable reality shows really pulled in the viewers. So if you were among those who were watching Bobby Flay and Clive Pearse (or, incredibly, Kobe Bryant and Phil Jackson), here are some highlights from the American Theatre Wing’s 62nd Annual Antoinette Perry Awards:
The opening: The show started with the famous “Circle of Life” number from The Lion King. Now, if that doesn’t tell you something about the state of new Broadway musicals, I don’t know what does. The Lion King opened in 1997. What? The producers didn’t think there was anything from this season—hell, anything from this century—that could lure viewers in? Sad.
Whoopi Goldberg as host: Her theatrical cred is a little lacking (she did replace Nathan Lane in the Broadway revival of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, but the Tony she “won” was as one of the 632 producers of 2002’s Best Musical winner, Thoroughly Modern Millie), but not everyone is Hugh Jackman or Angela Lansbury.
Whoopi’s entrance was intended to mimic her best-known turn as host of the Oscars, in 1999, when she came on stage in full Queen Elizabeth I/Shakespeare in Love regalia. This time, at the end of the Lion King number, she entered clad as Sebastian the Crab from Disney’s stage production of The Little Mermaid. The gag was that she had dressed for the wrong Disney show. Funny, but the shtick didn’t lead into a Billy Crystal-like monologue; it was rushed and pointless.
Another Whoopi moment was equally uncomfortable (when she brought a presenter onstage and then excused herself because she “had to pee”—kind of tacky for the Tonys). But most of her other bits—in which she was shown as part of the cast of current Broadway shows—were inspired. I especially enjoyed her being flown on as Mary Poppins and trying to sing the role of Christine in The Phantom of the Opera.
Whoopi was at her best when she introduced the four snippets of scenes from the shows nominated for Best Play. She displayed infectious enthusiasm for the shows and real love for the theater.
The Tonys, which have not had a regular host since 2005, could do a lot worse than to invite Whoopi Goldberg back again next year.
Scenes from the Nominated Musicals: A mixed bag. I loved the number from Cry-Baby, with the inmates dancing with license plates instead of tap shoes on their feet. Passing Strange, a rock concert with a minimal autobiographical plot written in part by its self-indulgent star, the mono-named “Stew,” came off as loud and repetitive. In the Heights offered up its title song, an ingratiating production number that requires you to believe that New York Latinos speak in African-American urban hip-hop dialect. The stage version of the flop-turned-camp-classic Xanadu is not a faithful re-creation of the movie, but a parody of it. You’d never know from the dead-serious approach the cast took to the title song. It looked less like a loving send-up of camp than it did just a truly bad musical.
Scenes from the Non-Nominated Musicals: Several newly mounted or revived shows this season were well received either by critics or by audiences, but not by both, and thus found themselves passed over by the Tony nominating committee. These shows were given the opportunity to strut their stuff last night, again with mixed results. The normally reliable Faith Prince was off-key in the extreme with a ballad from A Catered Affair that one might call “subtle and understated.” Or one might call “boring.” There was nothing boring about Sierra Boggess singing “Part of Your World” from The Little Mermaid. She floated around the stage on her wheelies, with a tail on her that bobbed and weaved so much I got seasick. It was an unintentional hoot. On the other hand, Megan Mulally was a completely intentional hoot singing “Deep Love” from Young Frankenstein. She made me want to see the show.
Scenes from the Nominated Revivals: Other than Grease (whose title song was sung amateurishly and staged unimaginatively), the nominated revivals came across better than anything else on the Great White Way last night. The medley of three songs from South Pacific (“There is Nothing like a Dame,” “Some Enchanted Evening” and “A Wonderful Guy”) proved why Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein will be cultural giants long after “Stew” has boiled over. I was shocked to see Act Two George portrayed as gay in the revival of Sunday in the Park with George, but this legitimate choice gave Daniel Evans a chance to amp up his emotions in his too-brief duet of “Move On” with Jenna Russell. (I hope Evans is butching it up in Act One, though.)
Finally, of course, there was Patti LuPone in “the role she was born to play,” Mama Rose in Gypsy. Belting out “Everything’s Coming Up Roses,” La LuPone was every bit the force of nature she’s been reported to be—and that the role of Rose demands. Thrilling. It was the highlight of the show for me. (As opposed to her acceptance speech later on, when she appeared to carp at the Tony voters for not having won since 1980.)
Speaking of Acceptance Speeches: I have to say I have a problem with non-African-Americans rapping and employing the sounds and gestures of urban hip-hop youth. It was embarrassing when Vanilla Ice did it, and it’s no more authentic sounding when it comes from the mouth of Lin-Manuel Miranda, who wrote and stars in In the Heights. Looking all shocked that he won for Best Score, he launched into a rap about the show that belied his surprised expression. Even his shout-out to Stephen Sondheim (“Look, Mr. Sondheim, I made a hat / Where there never was a hat / A Latin hat at that”) seemed, like his reference to “my man Cole Porter” in the show’s title song, a mere contrivance intended to convince the Broadway establishment of his respect for the great songwriters of the past.
Sondheim himself had an acceptance speech to give, for a Lifetime Achievement Tony, but he wasn’t in attendance, so he had the ever-strange Mandy Patinkin (sporting the beard of a Hasidic Jew) read it for him. It was humble, gracious and forthright: He acknowledged that, as he ages, he is terribly afraid of not living up to the expectations such an award bestows. But he promised achievements yet to come. I believe he’ll deliver.
The award for Strangest Acceptance Speech of the Last, oh, Millennium or So went to Mark Rylance, who won Best Actor in a Play for his role in Boeing-Boeing. His apparent ramblings about appropriate attire in various circumstances were actually a recitation of a “prose poem,” though he didn’t identify it by title or author. It’s “Back Country,” by the obscure Midwestern poet Louis Jenkins, though for millions it will always just be the weird actor’s weird acceptance speech:
“When you are in town, wearing some kind of uniform is helpful, policeman, priest, etc. Driving a tank is very impressive, or a car with official lettering on the side. If that isn't to your taste you could join the revolution, wear an armband, carry a homemade flag tied to a broom handle, or a placard bearing an incendiary slogan."At the very least you should wear a suit and carry a briefcase and a cell phone, or wear a team jacket and a baseball cap and carry a cell phone. If you go into the woods, the back country, someplace past all human habitation, it is a good idea to wear orange and carry a gun, or, depending on the season, carry a fishing pole, or a camera with a big lens. Otherwise it might appear that you have no idea what you are doing, that you are merely wandering the Earth, no particular reason for being here, no particular place to go”
It might have worked, because the eventual implication was that Rylance had achieved success as an actor in part by disguising his fear of inadequacy. But by the time Rylance reached the last lines, the orchestra was playing the walk-off music and the audience was left dumbstruck.
Presenters: Only two worthy of note. Gabriel Byrne began by saying, “I’m pleased to announce the nominees for . . .,” but throughout the minute or so he was on stage he looked anything but pleased. Medicated, maybe. Pleased? I’d hate to see him when he’s pissed off.
Liza Minnelli looked trim and terrific. I wish they’d let her perform, instead of just presenting an award.
Overall: The show was a fast-paced three hours filled with the kind of energy, silliness, talent, frustration, spectacle and power that make Broadway theater much more exciting to me than any basketball game -- or even any cable reality show -- ever.
Presenters: Only two worthy of note. Gabriel Byrne began by saying, “I’m pleased to announce the nominees for . . .,” but throughout the minute or so he was on stage he looked anything but pleased. Medicated, maybe. Pleased? I’d hate to see him when he’s pissed off.
Liza Minnelli looked trim and terrific. I wish they’d let her perform, instead of just presenting an award.
Overall: The show was a fast-paced three hours filled with the kind of energy, silliness, talent, frustration, spectacle and power that make Broadway theater much more exciting to me than any basketball game -- or even any cable reality show -- ever.
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