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    <title>BroadwayWorld.com - The Broadway Pulse</title>
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    <description>Latest Broadway Blog Entries by Editor-in-Chief Robert Diamond. </description>
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	<title>Prince Trevor Amongst The Elephants:  Respect For Ridiculousness</title>        
<description>The word &quot;ridiculous&quot; carries a certain reverence in theatre circles and when Duncan Pflaster calls his new play, Prince Trevor Amongst The Elephants, &quot;a big epic naked ridiculous Shakespearean fairy tale play for adults,&quot; those in the know catch it as a bow to the late, great Charles Ludlum.  For twenty years, until his AIDS-related death in 1987, playwright/actor Ludlum was the major force in a theatre movement that had Brendan Gill of The New Yorker pronounce, &quot;This isn't farce. This isn't absurd. This is absolutely ridiculous!&quot;
That magical basement theatre space at 1 Sheridan Square, home of The Ridiculous Theatrical Company, hosted plays like Eunuchs of the Forbidden City, Bluebeard (about the search for a third genital) and the enormously successful The Mystery of Irma Vep using a theatrical style Pflaster describes as, &quot;a theatre of the mind that makes treasure out of trash.&quot;
Duncan, whose plays I don't review anymore since he became a writing colleague at BroadwayWorld and a showtune singing buddy at Marie's Crisis, was first introduced to the plays of Charles Ludlam as an actor at the now defunct Florida Playwrights' Theatre (&quot;Ludlam was venerated and oft-performed.&quot;) where he appeared in productions of The Grand Tarot and The Secret Lives of the Sexists, as well as stage-managing Irma Vep.
Inspired to read the playwright's complete works and use his style as an influence, Prince Trevor Amongst the Elephants, now playing as part of the Midtown International Theatre Festival, is described by the author/director as, &quot;a satire of contemporary politics, reflected in the magic mirror of fairy tales, injected with 42 ccs of Shakespearean verse and dissected through the Ridiculous Theatrical style of Charles Ludlam,&quot; as exemplified by these press notes describing the plot:
When good King Kartoffelpuffen gives up his kingdom to his oldest son Tater and marries off his other children for peace (and for political gain), Prince Trevor, his youngest son, trades places with his manservant Grumbelino in order to escape his fate and find his true love, Toby the stable boy. Meanwhile, will Princess Lana find love with King Soignée of the Blind Sybarites, or will she continue pining for Geoffrey, her lost love? Will Grumbelino make friends with his new wife Queen Bluebella of Chryselephantinople and her harem of eunuchs, or will he foolishly poke his nose into the Forbidden Ballroom? Can anyone keep King Tater from starting a new war and destroying all their Kingdoms? Are the rumored Elephants of Style more than just a fable?
&quot;While writing Prince Trevor Amongst the Elephants, it was in deliberate homage to (Ludlam's) heightened style, which owes something to Brecht, something to Shakespeare - I mined the past for plot tropes and then turned them on their heads.  I pulled out the awful puns and the bravura acting roles and the full-frontal nudity…  I hope I'd have done him proud.&quot;
Photo by Jason Specland:  Paula Galloway, Luke Strandquist and Carlos Rafael Fernandez
*****************************************
In other news, I hear that when Primary Stages premieres A.R. Gurney's new play, Buffalo Gal, the preview performances on July 22nd and 23rd have been designated as Pay What You Can nights.
And when you consider the typical audience for an A.R. Gurney play, Pay What You Can should come out to several thousand dollars per ticket!
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    	<pubDate>Sat, 19 Jul 2008 04:04:08 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>A Night At The Operetta:  It's Outta Here!</title>        
<description>On the night when baseball's all-stars were blasting dingers into the bleachers of Yankee Stadium, the cast of Scott Siegel's A Night At The Operetta, was having their own home run derby on the stage of Town Hall, knocking melodies by Victor Herbert, Sigmund Romberg and Rudolf Friml out of the park.  And in both cases, the crowd frequently went nuts.
As it did last year, A Night At The Operetta kicked off Town Hall's Second Annual Summer Broadway Festival, a no-brainer choice when Siegel noticed the wild enthusiasm that always greeted operetta selections during his ultra-popular Broadway By The Year concerts.  As a regular at Siegel's shows I'll confirm the rock star reception that follows whenever a well-trained singer sinks his or her vocal chops into these rich and demanding melodies that were a staple of Broadway for the first three decades of the 20th Century.
Scott Siegel, as usual, provided introductions and illuminating information from his stage left podium (Like how the &quot;Students Marching Song&quot; from The Student Prince was also known as &quot;Let's All Be Gay Boys.&quot;) and Dan Foster directed the swift and entertaining evening.  Music director Fred Barton was at piano, leading a four piece ensemble in his excellent arrangements.
Most of the evening's selections were performed in the acoustically friendly auditorium without microphones (&quot;Sound design by God,&quot; as Siegel likes to say).  Certainly such assistance isn't necessary when you've got people like Alexander Gemigniani, who opened the show with Herbert's &quot;The Time, The Place And The Girl,&quot; putting a dapper spin on Henry Blossom's lyric of the romantic frustrations of bad timing.  His baritone was put to prettier use in &quot;Adrift On A Star,&quot; from the Lysistrata operetta The Happiest Girl In The World,which combined a lullaby melody from Jacques Offenbach's Tales of Hoffman with new lyrics by Yip Harburg.  Combining with Gemigniani on that duet was Karen Murphy, who showed off a spirited comic coquettishness in a pair of Herbert/Blossom offerings, &quot;Kiss Me Again&quot; and &quot;If I Were On The Stage.&quot;
If you have two seats for South Pacif- (as Comden and Green might have put it) while Tony-winner Paulo Szot is on vacation, you needn't fear you'll be missing out on a thrilling vocal performance.  Szot's understudy, William Michals, completely wowed the Town Hall crowd with &quot;The Gypsy Baron Song&quot; (Johann Strauss II / George Mead), cracking his whip, regaling with footwork and infusing his rich baritone with a rousing bravado.  Later on, his joyously impassioned &quot;Thine Alone&quot; (Herbert/Blossom) showed a more romantic side.
&quot;Spiel tenor&quot; is a label not often heard on Broadway (think Threepenny Opera sung legit), but John Easterlin provided a breathtakingly dramatic example with Franz Lehar's &quot;Dein ist mein ganzes Herz,&quot; using the original German lyric by Victor Leon, Ludwig Herzer and Fritz Lohner.
Speaking of The Threepenny Opera, the Lucy Brown from the last Broadway revival, sopranist Brian Charles Rooney teamed up with tenor Bill Daugherty for a duet of &quot;Only A Rose&quot; (Friml / Brian Hooker / W.H. Post) with Rooney singing the female part in its original key.  Though both men were certainly vocally up to the number, the choice to have them standing at separate microphones and barely acknowledging each other while singing denied them a chance to put any real feeling into their performances.  It would have been nice to have a same sex love duet on the program.  They certainly provided feeling for their other pieces; Rooney singing in a deep-sounding tenor for &quot;Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life&quot; (Herbert/Blossom) and &quot;Softly, As In A Morning Sunrise&quot; (Romberg / Oscar Hammerstein II / Frank Mandel / Laurence Schwab) and Daugherty, with his light, reedy voice sweetly embracing &quot;Indian Summer&quot; (Herbert / Al Dubin), ending with a lovely rise into his head voice.
Christine Andreas' mellow soprano brought a still sophistication to Noel Coward's, &quot;I'll Follow My Secret Heart,&quot; while ingénue Jennifer Hope Wills prettily ventured &quot;To The Land Of My Own Romance&quot; (Herbert / Harry B. Smith).  Lisa Howard was charming in the bouncy and comic &quot;Your Photo&quot; (Friml / Otto Harbach) and Milla Ilieva, whose lineage might have made her a Czarina by now if it weren't for that pesky revolution, was warmly dramatic in Jerome Kern and Otto Harbach's &quot;Yesterdays.&quot;
That eccentric song and dance man, Jason Graae, one of the funniest musical comedy performers around, was dapperly attired in tails, a cane and a top hat for Franz Lehar and Adrian Ross's &quot;Tres Parisienne,&quot; rattling off one-liners and merrily entertaining the delighted crowd.  Backing him up was the quartet of Eric Sean Fogel, J. Austin Eyer, Billy Harrigan Tighe and Ben Franklin.
Just before the finale (the full company singing Coward's, &quot;I'll See You Again&quot;) the trio of Easterlin, Michals and Wills combined for a beautifully blended &quot;Hill of Dreams&quot; from The Song of Norway.  As Siegel explained, this musical telling of the career of composer Edvard Grieg opened on Broadway in 1944 and American audience who first heard this inspirational ballad were undoubtedly thinking of their loved ones fighting overseas.
The Summer Broadway Festival continues Monday with Broadway's Rising Stars, a concert featuring young talent hand selected from New York's universities and music schools.  If this year's crop is anything like last year's, we're in for a terrific time.  The following Monday the festival closes with a new edition of All Singin', All Dancin' and, again, if it's anything like last year…
Photos by Genevieve Rafter Keddy:   Top:  William Michals; Bottom: Jason Graae with Eric Sean Fogel, J. Austin Eyer, Billy Harrigan Tighe and Ben Franklin</description>
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    	<pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2008 04:01:05 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>Kicking a Dead Horse:  Ramblin' Man</title>        
<description>The title character - well, actually the title prop - of Sam Shepard's new entry, Kicking a Dead Horse, doesn't have to lift a hoof to make an impressive star entrance.  Lying beneath a sheet that covers the entire curtain-less stage as the audience enters The Public's Martinson Hall, the slow deliberate removal of its covering at the play's commencement tantalizes viewers until we get what we came to see; a big dead piece of symbolism placed somewhat to the left of center stage.  Also revealed at that moment are two large mounds of dirt suitable for tandem mountings of Samuel Beckett's Happy Days.  The wide open spaces prairie scene, put together by designers Brien Vahey (set) and John Comiskey (lights) has a kind of respectful artificial beauty to it, similar to the environmental displays you might see at New York's American Museum of Natural History.
And that's quite an appropriate visual because the fellow doing the kicking in this (mostly) solo piece is an art dealer.  Hobart Struther, first seen coming out of the grave he's digging for his four-legged traveling companion who died in a freakish accident, was originally from these parts, but moved to Park Avenue after discovering he could plunk down twenty bucks or so for western themed art found in old saloons, barns and attics - pieces of junk the owners didn't care about - and sell them for hundreds of thousands of dollars to collectors and museums.  &quot;Authenticity!&quot; supplied his eureka moment.  &quot;The quest for 'Authenticity.'&quot;
But now, late in life, Hobart has chucked away his lucrative career and his marriage to go back and find the real authenticity he left behind.  In the 80-minute piece he talks to the audience of the death of an old west that his very vocal alter ego refers to as &quot;sentimental claptrap.&quot;  Between bouts of cursing and kicking at the title character, Hobart recalls legendary figures such as Meriwether Lewis and Crazy Horse.
The author directs Irish actor Stephen Rea, as he did for this production's premiere at Dublin's Abbey Theatre.  While very believable in accent and manner as a former cowpoke turned Manhattanite, there is little variety in the character's vocal and physical presentation, making the play's frequently repetitive passages all the more taxing to watch.  What seems like attempts at dark humor comes off more like fits of anger.  There's always a sense that something significant and heartfelt is in the works but just isn't coming out.  
What does come out, albeit briefly and silently, is actress Elissa Piszel, dressed in a slip and a cowboy hat, while Rea, draped in a multi-colored blanket, sings a western ditty.  What this appearance adds to the play, besides a moment for Comiskey to come with some striking lighting, I couldn't say.
Photo of Stephen Rea by Joan Marcus</description>
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    	<pubDate>Wed, 16 Jul 2008 02:48:25 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>Broadway Grosses: Week Ending 7/13 &amp; Algonquin Round Table Quote of the Week</title>        
<description>&quot;If you want to know what God thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to.&quot;-- Dorothy Parker

The grosses are out for the week ending 7/13/2008 and we've got them all
right here in BroadwayWorld.com's grosses section. Up for the week was: TITLE OF SHOW (52.8%), IN THE HEIGHTS (0.6%), PASSING STRANGE (0.4%),  

Down for the week was: THE COUNTRY GIRL (-18.8%), XANADU (-17.9%), A CHORUS LINE (-17.3%), CIRQUE DREAMS: JUNGLE FANTASY (-16.2%), SPAMALOT (-16.1%), GYPSY (-15.0%), RENT (-13.8%), CHICAGO (-13.3%), THE 39 STEPS (-12.8%), SPRING AWAKENING (-12.0%), NOVEMBER (-11.2%), MARY POPPINS (-10.4%), AVENUE Q (-8.7%), HAIRSPRAY (-7.2%), LEGALLY BLONDE (-6.0%), A CATERED AFFAIR (-5.3%), GREASE (-5.3%), AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY (-3.7%), THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (-3.6%), BOEING-BOEING (-3.2%), THE LITTLE MERMAID (-2.6%), MAMMA MIA! (-0.5%), THURGOOD (-0.5%), JERSEY BOYS (-0.1%), THE LION KING (-0.1%), SOUTH PACIFIC (-0.1%),</description>
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    	<pubDate>Mon, 14 Jul 2008 16:06:23 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>Damn Yankees &amp; East 14th</title>        
<description>Perched above the stage in their private bleacher section, just beyond an outfield fence graffitied with the musical's title, conductor Rob Berman and his 25 piece Encores! Summer Stars orchestra might be mistaken for the conservatory cousins of Brooklyn's legendary Dodger Sym-Phony.  But instead of serenading umpires from the Ebbet's Field grandstands with double forte arrangements of &quot;Three Blind Mice,&quot; the musicians of director John Rando's cracker-jack production of Damn Yankees - a 1955 musical that opened in the early weeks of the baseball season that saw Brooklyn beat the Yankees for the borough's only World Series championship - treats 21st Century audiences to that thrilling sound of a Broadway Golden Age orchestra.  The detailed movements and textures contained within Don Walker's orchestrations, whether giving comic accents to the pepper-upper &quot;Heart,&quot; setting a satirical mood for the pseudo-vamp &quot;Whatever Lola Wants&quot; or lifting a slow ballad like &quot;A Man Doesn't Know&quot; with phrases that search the mind of the singing character, help bring majestic touches of artistry to this rousing vaudeville disguised as a book musical.
While Damn Yankees might not be considered a classic when plopped in the same league as My Fair Lady and Show Boat, when you consider the entries that are lovingly and unashamedly Musical Comedy, this one's a champ.  Douglass Wallop teamed up with George Abbott, the director/bookwriter who was a major force in changing the comedic aspects of musical comedy from popular performers doing their familiar routines into something more character and plot driven, to remove the darker aspects of his novel, The Year The Yankees Lost The Pennant, and turn it into wholesome, safely-sexy fun that championed healthy obsessions like sports fanaticism and marital fidelity.  Co-composer/lyricists Richard Adler and Jerry Ross (who tragically died at the age of 29 during the show's run) supplied a score full of lively, theatrically charged toe-tappers with smart, humorous words less than a year after the premiere of their sophomore effort smash, The Pajama Game.
Baseball goes Faustian in this tale of a frustrated middle-aged fan of the sad sack Washington Senators (Back in the days when the old joke described Washington as,&quot; First in war, first in peace and last in the American League.&quot;) who sells his soul to the devil to become the young power-hitting shortstop who leads his team in a quest to beat New York for the league championship and a chance to play in the World Series.  But when the young phenom starts missing the middle-aged wife he left behind, ol' Lucifer, here known as Mr. Applegate, employs the dazzling temptress Lola as a distraction.
But the plot takes many unexpected detours (Why are the ballplayers dancing a hoedown?  Where did that mambo number come from?) for the sake of sheer entertainment and much of the success of Damn Yankees greatly depends on how well the company can go out there and just put on a show.  If the two billed-above-the-title stars of this production weren't consistently up to that task at the performance I attended, various factors, such as the short rehearsal and preview periods before the critics arrive, should be considered and I wouldn't be surprised if they've greatly improved by the time these words are being read.
The talented Jane Krakowski gives an admirable effort as Lola but she doesn't seem to have been given a chance to make the role completely her own.  First appearing in a white dress and wig reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe in her Seven Year Itch days, she sings her first number, the snazzily syncopated &quot;A Little Brains, A Little Talent,&quot; in a wispy voice that undercuts the funny lyric's impact; even striking a couple of iconic MM poses in the process.  While the production's use of Bob Fosse's original Broadway choreography (reproduced by Mary MacLeod) is a sensational choice, both historically and artistically, the campy vampiness of, &quot;Whatever Lola Wants,&quot; is not a good fit for her when required to copy every legendary move that he created for his new-found muse, Gwen Verdon.  Though Krakowski and her song and dance partner John Selya do score solidly in the eccentric mambo, &quot;Who's Got The Pain?,&quot; it's not until she leads a chorus of beatniks in the hep-cat dance break of &quot;Two Lost Souls&quot; that the actress seems to really let loose and take the stage.
Making his New York stage debut as the cloven-hoofed demon, Sean Hayes is at his best when using a fine verbal dexterity to twist humor out of some the most innocent-seeming lines.  But at other times his performance is just too small, especially at the built-in encore of his solo, &quot;Those Were The Good Old Days,&quot; where his timid-sounding singing and tiny gestures betray the showmanship needed when a star is alone on stage doing a vaudevillian turn in front of a shimmering curtain.  But then, the first half of the song, a Liberace-style bit arranged to take advantage of his training as a concert pianist, is quite boffo.
Cheyenne Jackson, the leading man who's quickly becoming famous for not being as well known as he should be, plays the budding superstar Joe with a warm modesty and graceful stride reminiscent of Joe DiMaggio, giving the Lola as Marilyn idea an interesting edge.  His two ballads are done with rich-voiced sincerity, giving his smooth baritone a slight period lilt reminiscent of the mainstream pop stars that dominated 50's music until Bill Haley came around.  His scenes with Randy Graff, as the wife his older self left behind, are beautifully heart-tugging, with Jackson subtly showing Joe's growing yearning for them to be together again and Graff communicating a confused sense of romance she's feeling for this mysterious young man.  Their unusual relationship is nicely set up by P.J. Benjamin, who plays the pre-transformation Joe as a nice guy trying to share his passion for baseball with the woman he loves, despite her disinterest.
As the sharp-tongued sports reporter, Megan Lawrence thickens up her wonderfully colorful speaking voice until sounds like something akin to a duck gargling (and I mean that in the most complimentary way), giving extra zing to her zingers.  Michael Mulheren sings with gusto as the Senators' crusty manager while Jimmy Ray Bennett, Robert Creighton and Jimmy Smagula make for a trio of loveable lug ballplayers.  MacLeod deserves extra praise for giving the male ensemble members the right amount of athleticism over artistry to make them really look like ballplayers dancing.  The highbrow/lowbrow contrast between Veanne Cox and Kathy Fitzgerald as a pair of baseball-crazed ladies nails every laugh that's written and a few that aren't.
While Encores! productions are generally on a low design budget, John Lee Beatty's cut-out sets, William Ivey Long's costumes and Peter Kaczorowski's lights combine for a light pastel fantasy vision of 1950's Americana.
Just like last year's Summer Stars production of Gypsy was a solid starting point for what became a far better realized Broadway revival, this Damn Yankees could use some adjustments before it can be considered an all-star, but as she stands it's still a big W in the Encores! win column.
Photos by Joan Marcus:  Top: Sean Hayes and Jane Krakowski; Bottom: Randy Graff and Cheyenne Jackson 
*******************************************
I'm not going to write all that much about Don Reed's East 14th: True Tales of a Reluctant Player.  It's not fun giving a negative review to a self-directed one-person autobiographical solo piece where the artist is presumably sharing very personal parts of his life in a manner that, if not exactly entertaining or particularly interesting, at least lacks incompetence.
&quot;My Two Dads&quot; takes on a new meaning as Reed describes his 1970's Oakland childhood split between 7am routes knocking on doors with his Jehovah's Witness step-father and mingling with the denizens of &quot;Ho Row&quot; with his pimp biological daddy.  Yes, he comes of age, and in the process plays a variety of broad, underwritten stereotypes meant to represent those who helped him get there.
Let's just say I wasn't taken in by the story, I wasn't amused by the humor and I wasn't impressed by the acting.
&quot;They say it takes a village to raise a child, but sometimes it takes a ghetto to raise a man,&quot; Reed remarks in what I suppose is meant to be a poignant moment.  Let me add, it usually takes a playwright and a director to make theatre.
Photo of Don Reed by Aaron Epstein</description>
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    	<pubDate>Mon, 14 Jul 2008 02:35:52 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>Do Broadway Lyrics Still Have To Rhyme?</title>        
<description>The last two Tonys for Best Score went to shows with lyrics that did not always strive for perfect rhyming.  Is that bad for Broadway or simply an accurate reflection of what is acceptable in today's popular music?  Let us know in our new poll.</description>
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    	<pubDate>Wed, 09 Jul 2008 00:32:32 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>Broadway Grosses: Week Ending 7/6 &amp; Algonquin Round Table Quote of the Week</title>        
<description>&quot;The English have an extraordinary ability for flying into a great calm.&quot;
--Alexander Woollcott
The grosses are out for the week ending 7/6/2008 and we've got them all
right here in BroadwayWorld.com's grosses section. Up for the week was: THE COUNTRY GIRL (30.0%), AVENUE Q (15.3%), SPAMALOT (12.1%), SPRING AWAKENING (9.2%), CHICAGO (8.2%), A CHORUS LINE (7.1%), RENT (7.1%), AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY (6.6%), CIRQUE DREAMS: JUNGLE FANTASY (6.0%), THE 39 STEPS (5.3%), NOVEMBER (4.5%), MARY POPPINS (3.9%), GYPSY (2.5%), THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (2.3%), BOEING-BOEING (1.7%), THURGOOD (1.4%), LES LIAISONS DANGEREUSES (1.1%), MAMMA MIA! (1.0%), THE LION KING (0.1%), THE LITTLE MERMAID (0.1%),  

Down for the week was: PASSING STRANGE (-13.5%), XANADU (-2.8%), A CATERED AFFAIR (-2.0%), IN THE HEIGHTS (-2.0%), LEGALLY BLONDE (-0.8%), HAIRSPRAY (-0.5%), GREASE (-0.2%),</description>
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    	<pubDate>Mon, 07 Jul 2008 16:48:41 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>Booth &amp; Pat: Slow Children Playing</title>        
<description>The last time I reviewed the cabaret antics of singing comedians Booth Daniels and Patrick Frankfort, a/k/a Booth &amp; Pat, the description, &quot;The Smothers Brothers on crystal meth,&quot; entered the picture.  In their new gig, Slow Children Playing, which has one more scheduled performance at The Duplex on June 20th, it seems the boys have upped the dosage.
The combination of Pat, the dim-witted guitar player with a goofy smile and a delusionally high regard for his appeal to the ladies, and Booth, the hyper-intense voice of reason and understated sarcasm, was merely very, very funny six month ago.  But now, like a classical duo that just needs time in front of audiences to evolve their playing into making music, Booth &amp; Pat are developing into a well-oiled laugh-riot machine.  The quirky absurdity of their verbal give-and-take slickly glides on new layers of polish without losing any of the spontaneity that made it work so well in the first place.  These guys are hilarious.
When they do covers, there's always a twist, like their riff on Justin Timberlake's &quot;Sexyback,&quot; where they imagine all the out-of-style things they can bring back.  (&quot;I'm bringing dial-up back / Those slow connections are where it's at.&quot;)  What seems to begin as a normal rendition of Lennon and McCartney's &quot;Let It Be&quot; turns into a medley of every imaginable song with the same chord structure.  Rick Astley's &quot;Never Gonna Give You Up&quot; is slowed-down and sung with such heartfelt sincerity that the song itself becomes the joke.
They also do Frankfort's original tunes, the best of which has him emoting, &quot;Where have all the straight girls gone,&quot; (sounding just enough like Paula Cole's plea concerning cowboys) after a history of girlfriends break it off with him by saying they're lesbians.  I can't give away big joke from Frankfort's new idea for a wedding song, but it's extremely inappropriate and extremely funny, as is Daniels' shocked reaction.
The pair keeps topping themselves with a medley of popular songs that feature nonsense lyrics (&quot;coo-coo-cachoo,&quot; &quot;hi-de-hi-de-hi,&quot; &quot;doo wa ditty ditty dum ditty doo,&quot; etc.) and a big Spice Girls medley is terrific fun.
But what makes the act really work is the frequently hilarious between-song patter that establishes the on-stage personas which carry over into the musical performances.  With nary a punch line they deliver solid character humor that brings a 21st Century edginess to the old tradition of comedy duos.
Photo of Booth Daniels and Patrick Frankfort by Jason Specland</description>
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    	<pubDate>Mon, 07 Jul 2008 02:22:12 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>Thoughts on Jesse Helms &amp; The Wisdom of Crowds</title>        
<description>I don't take pleasure in anybody's death; not even the death of someone who trampled on the rights of free speech in order to prevent funding for art that he considered to be obscene. I'm sure he felt he was doing the right thing for the country I have no reason to doubt he loved.
I remember the late 80s and early 90s as such an exciting, vibrant, colorful and inclusive time for performance art and visual art in downtown New York.  So many people only think of Karen Finley as the woman who smeared chocolate sauce all over her body without knowing that it was only part of a full-length piece called We Keep Our Victims Ready, which, among other things, revolted against a society that influenced such low self-images among women as to make them feel like excrement.  So many people refused to even consider if there was any aesthetic beauty in Andres Serrano's photograph, Piss Christ, which captured a crucifix emerged in a glass of his own urine.  Nobody said you had to like what they did, but it seems hypocritical for a country that values free speech to take back funding from otherwise qualified artists based on their work's content.
You never knew exactly what you'd be seeing at Dixon Place, P.S. 122, Franklin Furnace, Judson Memorial Church and other places that housed the kind of art he labeled as morally corrupt, but you knew it would be glowing with an earnest effort to share creativity. (And tickets were cheap, too!)  Goodbye, Jesse Helms. Wherever you're going I'm sure Joe McCarthy has the welcome wagon waiting for you.
Helms was among those who felt (as many still feel today) that, instead of spending public funds to endow artists deemed worthy by a select group designated as experts, public arts support should go no further than the act of buying a ticket or making a private donation.  Let the people decide with their dollars which artists please them and are deserving of their support.  I feel a slight connection between that reasoning and an exhibition I saw last weekend at the Brooklyn Museum; a place that had its own public funding threatened by Mayor Rudolph Giuliani when he found one of their shows distasteful.
Titled, Click!, A Crowd-Curated Exhibition, the museum's one-room display of 78 photos is inspired by James Surowiecki's book, The Wisdom of Crowds, which, although not particularly about art, explores the value of the opinions of those considered experts as opposed to the collective thoughts of the general public.
378 photographers answered the museum's month-long open call and submitted one photo each on the theme, &quot;Changing Faces of Brooklyn.&quot;  One of them happened to be my brother, Paul Kopelow, who submitted this photo.  (You'll please pardon my overt favoritism if I use my brother as an example of how the process worked.)  During a 7 1/2 week period, visitors to the museum's web site were invited to blindly judge as many photos as they like, with technical precautions taken to prevent ballot stuffing and to allow each photo to be judged about the same number of times.  The thousands who voted were also asked to evaluate their own knowledge of photography on one of five levels, which is where the fun begins.
If you take a look at this simple chart (this is starting to sound like a Comden and Green lyric) you'll see that Paul's photo placed 5th overall, but did not make the top ten among people who claimed to have no knowledge of photography.  He places 6th among those who claim &quot;some&quot; and &quot;more than a little&quot; knowledge, but then jumps to third when evaluated by those with &quot;above average&quot; and &quot;expert&quot; knowledge.  Similarly, you'll notice that the photo that placed 1st among those with no knowledge drops to 10th when rated by those with some knowledge and doesn't even make the top ten among those with higher degrees of knowledge.
And if you're wondering what all this has to do with theatre, think of the diverse opinions expressed by New York's theatre critics and frequent theatre-goers as opposed to the infrequent ones.  The latest demographic attendance report released by the Broadway League proves that success on the Main Stem relies on appealing to the infrequent play-goer, with only 6% of those surveyed attending Broadway shows 15 or more times a year.  Compare that to the roughly 35-40 productions seen by critics and frequent theatre-goers and you'll understand why a show like the current revival of Grease can get generally poor reviews and enjoy a healthy box office while a critically acclaimed show like Passing Strange struggles to attract full-price paying customers.
These stats don't account for attendance at Off-, Off-Off Broadway and regional theatres, but I think it's safe to say that any New York theatre lover, critic or not, will notice a sharp difference between the productions admired by those who attend frequently and those who do not make theatre a regular part of their lives.
Are the crowds right?  Were Grease, The Little Mermaid and South Pacific the best shows of last season because the box office says they were?  Were the Tony voters wrong in giving last season's Best Revival of a Play award to Journey's End, a production that struggled for an audience throughout its run?  Do you put more trust in the opinion of someone who sees 200+ productions a year or is that person's taste likely to be out of touch with most others?  And where do ticket prices figure in all of this?  I have no answers, but I'd love to hear your opinions.
And by way, it's The Fifth of July.  Happy Lanford Wilson Day, everyone!</description>
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    	<pubDate>Sat, 05 Jul 2008 04:37:00 PST</pubDate>
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	<title>A Brief Appreciation For John Dickinson</title>        
<description>While the rest of the country celebrates Independence Day with barbeques, fireworks and testing the limits of the Supreme Court's recent decision on the 2nd Amendment, musical theatre lovers like me will gather around their television sets for the traditional viewing of what I and many others call the finest film ever made from a Broadway musical, 1776.
Movie lovers hate this one because it's so stagy, but that's exactly what I love about it.  With Broadway director Peter Hunt serving the same duties behind the camera and bookwriter Peter Stone adapting his work and Sherman Edward's score for the screen, plus a congress of stage actors, many of them repeating roles they originated on Broadway, 1776 comes about as close as you can get to recreating the live theatre experience on film without simply sticking a camera in row G center orchestra.
But while 1776 is often sited as having one of, if not the best book ever written for a musical (everyone knows the story will end with congress voting for independence and yet Stone brilliantly makes you wonder how the devil its going to happen) I'd like to take a moment to address a gross historically inaccuracy.  One that makes a villain out of a true American hero.  I'm talking about the musical's depiction of the delegate from the colony of Pennsylvania, Mr. John Dickinson.
While the authors paint Dickinson, especially memorable in Donald Madden's film portrayal, as a sneering elitist man of property who objects to independence for fear of the harm it may cause his personal economy, the actual John Dickinson is remembered by historians as one of the great heroes of the revolution.  But what separates him from the other famous founding fathers is that, married to a devout Quaker and influenced by the practices of that society for most of his life, Dickenson was a pacifist.  Oh sure, he once got into a fight in the middle of Pennsylvania's general assembly during a particularly spirited debate and he did recognize that circumstances may sometimes dictate war as a means of defense, but when Stone has the character calling for &quot;a gentler means of resolving our grievances than revolution&quot; it accurately conveys the man's passionate belief in diplomacy and non-violence as means of settling disputes.  (Though when Stone has Dickinson derogatorily calling John Adams, &quot;Lawyer!&quot; it doesn't make much sense since he was one himself.)
The musical has Adams saying Thomas Jefferson writes &quot;ten times better than any man in congress,&quot; but in actuality it's John Dickinson who was known as &quot;The Penman of the Revolution.&quot;  His 12-part essay, Letters from a Farmer in Pennsylvania to the Inhabitants of the British Colonies, was considered a major influence in convincing colonists to unite against Parliament's taxes levied by the Townshend Acts, and so impressed Benjamin Franklin that he published it for distribution in England.  
In the musical, when John Adams pressures Thomas Jefferson into writing the Declaration of Independence by quoting his work in the Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of Taking Up Arms, he is actually repeating the words of John Dickinson.  Though congress gave Jefferson the first crack at drafting the document meant to explain to the world why blood was being spilled between colonists and the army of their mother country, his version was considered too forceful, so Dickinson was asked to write a new version using softer language.  It was he who penned, &quot;…the arms we have been compelled by our enemies to assume, we will, in defiance of every hazard, with unabating firmness and perseverance, employ for the preservation of our liberties; being with one mind resolved to die freemen rather than to live slaves.&quot;  (Did Stone just mess up here or was he perhaps having Adams playing a mind game with Jefferson?  No, I think he just messed up.)
(Oh, and speaking of slaves, Dickinson freed all 37 of his in 1777.)
Jefferson also wrote the first draft of the Olive Branch Petition in 1775; a letter directed to King George III stating that the colonies favor reconciliation over revolution but again Dickinson was brought in to make revisions.  And while Jefferson was busy scribbling his parchment with what would become the Declaration of Independence, Dickinson was assigned, at the same time, to head the committee that would write the Articles of Confederation, reasoning that the colonies couldn't declare anything as a whole without an outline for how they would unite.
When the declaration was debated and accepted, John Dickinson stood quietly in the back and refused to vote.  He could see the inevitable, but stood by his convictions and was the only member of congress to not sign.  Many considered him a traitor for his inaction while others admired his courage in sticking with his unpopular beliefs.
Dickinson did serve briefly in the Continental Army and was a member of the Constitutional Convention, putting his writing skills to further patriotic use by authoring a series of letters, under the penname &quot;Fabius,&quot; calling for ratification.
Perhaps 1776 would not have grabbed audiences so strongly if the main conflict was between the rebellious John Adams and an eloquent proponent of non-violence who was working hard to help his country through diplomacy.  Sometimes people like having good guys and bad guys clearly defined for them.  Nevertheless, on the day when we honor American patriots, let's not forget those who strived to win battles with words instead of guns.</description>
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    	<pubDate>Thu, 03 Jul 2008 03:01:35 PST</pubDate>
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