Promises, Promises with Sarah Jane Everman

The sweet-voiced and comically gifted Sarah Jane Everman filled in quite ably for Kristin Chenoweth at last night's performance. But really the show belongs to its main character, Chuck, played with elastic vivacity by the brilliant Sean Hayes, who though best known for TV's Will and Grace turns out to have boundless stage energy and a very nice singing voice to boot. And a big chunk of the second act is blown up to bursting by the hilarious Katie Finneran as Marge MacDougall, the inebriated sexpot Chuck meets in a bar after things have really spiraled down for him. Overall, the revival manages to be both supremely cynical and humorously high-stepping, with a happy ending that only slightly relieves the story's sour attitude towards love and especially marriage. Read the full review, first published as Theater Review (NYC): Promises, Promises with Sean Hayes and Sarah Jane Everman on Blogcritics.

Banana Shpeel

photo: Kristie Kahns

Most of the acts in the latest Cirque du Soleil show are of the same variety and of the same jaw-dropping, viscerally exciting quality you expect from the brand: a trio of Asian contortionists, a hold-your-breath thrilling Russian male acrobat who seems to walk sideways around a pole, a juggler who spins carpets on her legs, hands and head simultaneously. But the show's unfortunate, vaudeville-themed framing story adds a lot of head-scratchingly unfunny business to the mix and keeps grinding the show to a full halt. The conceit - that our Master of Ceremonies holds a talent contest using three talentless audience members (read: obvious plants) who infiltrate the show rather than return to their seats as they're told - isn't at all developed: it's all set-up and no punchline. The only practical use of the vaudeville setting is that it allows an excuse for tap dancing but those numbers, which haven't been choreographed to build, are among the show's weakest. There is some Cirque du Soleil magic here, but it's diminished by way too much that's beside the point.

Banana Shpeel

Banana Shpeel is not the best thing Cirque Du Soleil has ever done. Its focus on Schmelky, the master of ceremonies, is completely uninvolving, and some of the clown bits go on way too long. However, it's still Cirque du Soleil. Gorgeous people still do amazing things with their stunning bodies. Foot juggler Vanessa Alvarez shows breathtaking skill and style, Dmitry Bulkin uses his strength to make beautifully impossible (impossibly beautiful?) tableau, and contortionists Tsybenova Ayagma, Zhambalova Lilia, and Tsydendambaeva Imin make you believe Schmelky when he says that he flew them over first class, two in the overhead compartment and one under the seat in front of him. Banana Shpeel also features some wonderful dancing, particularly the tap numbers, as well as some gorgeous scenery. The costumes are insanely colorful, sometimes to great effect, sometimes not. The clowns are not what many people would imagine when hearing the word clown; for example, the wry, slinky, wonderful Patrick De Valette has a persona very close to a creep exposing himself on the subway. The live band rocks but is way too loud--I believe that the acts would get more applause at certain moments if people could hear each other starting to applaud. Discounts are available on the Cirque Du Soleil website.

The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity

Reviewed for Theatermania.

Razzle Dazzle! My Life Behind the Sequins

While I was watching Mitzi Gaynor at Feinstein's at Loews Regency last night, it occurred to me that some cabaret acts are about hanging out with someone you really like. At this point in her life (pushing 80), Gaynor can only kinda sing and kinda dance, but that's not the point. She's Mitzi Gaynor! And she tells wonderful, self-deprecating anecdotes about herself and her career: She knew she was interested in the man who would become her husband when, the night they met, he told her she was full of shit. Ethel Merman told her the dirtiest joke she ever heard. She really enjoyed acting with Frank and Donald. And so on. Gaynor wears a range of lovely outfits, all extremely low cut, and entertaining clips of her film and TV work are shown during her costume changes. For me, the clips proved two things: (1) dance should be filmed without cutting, with the dancers' entire bodies visible, as it was in her movies, and (2) the styles of the 70s were a blot on the universe. Gaynor's song choices range from Rodgers and Hammerstein to Stevie Wonder. More importantly, she is completely charming, and it was great fun to hang out with her.

That Face

At the beginning of Polly Stenham's That Face, a strangely passive teenage girl is tied to a chair and hooded. Two other teenage girls bicker about how her boarding-school hazing should go. The next scene takes place in a bedroom. An attractive middle-aged woman radiating "morning after" awakens in a messy bed in a messier room. We soon realize that there is also an attractive young man in the bed. The attractive middle-aged woman turns out to be a hard-core drunk, and the attractive young man turns out to be her son. One of the hazers from the first scene is her daughter. This unappetizing little family squabbles and yells and begs for forgiveness and acts out, and it's all deeply unpleasant. Of course, the measure of a play is not its pleasantness--artful writing, skillful acting, and catharsis can make even the ickiest show into a satisfying work of art. However, while That Face is reasonably well-written and well-acted, its limited strengths are not enough to mitigate the ugliness of the proceedings.