9. A Little Night Music
I first saw this Sondheim musical at the Ravinia Festival in Chicago starring Patti LuPone about the time I was finishing high school.  I mention it here, not because it was such a singular production (far from it actually) but because it was the first time I fully understood, or really began to understand, the amazing power of a Sondheim show.  Even with minimal staging, the story and music were evocative and resonant, an intelligence pervaded the evening that I’m not sure I had ever seen on stage before.  And thus a life-long passion was born… to see every single thing Sondheim ever touched performed in every possible venue, revival and iteration.

8. The Phantom of the Opera
I can’t remember when I first saw it, or count the number of times I’ve seen it since, but this show will always mark the beginning of my love of musicals.  The combination of big theatrics, melodrama and horror filled my child-self with endless amounts of glee (it’d be a little while before Sweeney Todd would fill me with more bloody glee).  I know many people think the stage show hasn’t held up well (and I’m waiting for them to end the Broadway run so I can take a crack at reviving it) but I was happily surprised how much it still enchanted me just a year ago on Broadway.  That sweeping score is iconic, right down to the ‘80s organ blasts.

7. Dr. Atomic
I’ve already written about this Metropolitan Opera production way too many times, so I’ll keep it brief.  It’s a phenomenal piece of stagecraft, a wonderful distillation of an event too big for any particular venue or medium, a score that challenges and delights and a thoroughly satisfying evening that got me closer to understanding the atrocities of a bomb than any book or documentary ever has.  And I even realized more how incredible it was as a stage piece when a symphonic recording constructed by Adams himself failed to bring me back into the moment when I sat in the theater entranced.

6. Pillowman
A little bit of love for this piece has to do with being a freshman in college and being ecstatic just at the thought of living in the same city as this amazing theater is being performed.  Beyond that this play pushed deep into my bones a sense of dread and excitement at horrible atrocities, a nightmare coming to life on stage.  Billy Crudup and Jeff Goldblum anchored this show so beautifully.  I’m sorry that I only managed to get there the week before it closed because I would have loved to see it again, but I truly only needed to see it once to make an everlasting impression.

5. Audra McDonald at Carnegie Hall
Or really any time Audra takes the stage.  I don’t know a performer more captivating in every format.  In a fully staged show she is luminous.  On a recording her voice transcends the medium and delivers a complete character study, even when singing in Portuguese. In a staged reading she performs as if she’s lived with the material her whole life.  On TV… well, let’s leave that out.  But it was when I saw her at Carnegie Hall, in a concert devoted to songs about things that “freaked the hell out of her,” that I completely fell in love.  She was effortless and human, emotionally resonant with a sense of joy for life that I wish could be bottled.  There are two moments from that show that I will never forget.  One was her final encore, singing “Edelweiss” at the front of the stage without any amplification… you’ve never heard a New York City audience so quiet.  And her take on “The Glamorous Life” from the film version of A Little Night Music.  She introduced it as her greatest fear of what her daughter would grow up thinking of her mother.  It was such a naked moment, no artifice and immediately reminded me of the first time I ever saw her perform at Ravinia and she apologized at the possibility she might quickly flee the stage at any given moment because she was pregnant and her morning sickness came at night.  Her daughter is now 11.

4. Floyd Collins
I saw an early rendition of this musical at The Goodman Theater in Chicago and could only think, what an odd gem.  Mountain music mixed with a freaky true story of a man caught in a cave in Kentucky… yeah, that just screams make me into a musical.  But it works.  The stage was mostly bare and yet you absolutely felt like you were trapped with that man under a rock, claustrophobic and horrifying.  Then there was the yodeling, repeated around the entire theater to create the echoes of a cavern.  It was a wonderful combination of stagecraft, music and storytelling, an attention to detail and beauty that is all too rare in the modern musical.

3. Quidam
This might be standing in for the larger entity of Cirque du Soleil, which is pretty much the only organization that has captivated my imagination ceaselessly since I unsuccessfully fought falling asleep at a way too young age during Saltimbanco.  It was easy for me to say that they turned their own artistry into a cliche, but then I saw LOVE in Vegas and was reminded of the sheer delight and mastery of production, there was no cliche to mock.  Quidam however has always stood out as the darkest entry in the Cirque catalog with its fantastic cribbing from Magritte.  The music from that show has always been my favorite, and in many ways, it seemed to be one of their simplest productions, focused on a very human fantasy, smaller and more emotionally true.

2. Satyagraha
There was no question I was going to be thrilled seeing this opera, it’s Philip Glass!  But I had no clue what I was really in for.  Not only was the score everything I could have hoped for, but the ingenuity of this production was unreal.  The puppets, the tape, the hangers… these are not things you plan on seeing on stage at The Metropolitan Opera, but there is all was, a performance art piece in place of the usual gilded lavish set pieces.  A transcendent night at the opera.

1. Sleep No More
Ok, technically not in a theater, but it’s a theater piece, so that works, right? I seriously can’t think of anything else that has so hugely stuck in my head, my body, my soul.  It’s such a complete vision that even minor quibbles I might have with it are completely lost to the fact that the minute I walked through that darkened tunnel and into that bar, I had left my life behind and was completely immersed in an interactive world more real than any computer generated flashy bit of stage craft that has been whipped up to try to overwhelm an audience into submission.  Maybe it’s just a product of taking down the divide between actor and audience, but I think there’s a whole lot more going on in this piece to draw you deep into another world.

I will start this by saying that it is completely unnecessary to compare Tony Kushner’s Angels in America with Larry Kramer’s The Normal Heart.  But because both are being performed right now in New York, and I’ve seen them nearly back to back, it’s impossible not to compare.

Angels in America, while a triumph of stylistic writing in epic form within the constructs of six hours of stage traffic, exists in a hermetically sealed past, inexplicably inapplicable to today.  I was struck by this fact (even before seeing Normal Heart) as I expected to be completely bowled over by finally seeing the entire thing performed live on stage.  This was especially the case after the abundance of love showered on the revival in the papers.

Needless to say, I was disappointed.  The show was clunky, without a natural rhythm or flow, which is a shame when working with the beautiful words of Kushner that, when they find that rhythm, can make for an incomparable night of theater.  Was it the actors’ faults?  No, all good in their roles, some better than others (I have yet to understand the desire to cast Zoe Kazan who has two modes, vacant and moody vacant).  Was it the set?  That definitely didn’t help.  It was a cluttered mess on stage in which video projections were often cast over the entirety of the set, so you’d see these fragments of recognizable things both three and two dimensional.  It was actually nauseating in the end.

So is it possible that it really is the play itself?  Indeed it is.  It just didn’t move me.  Aspects still get me, watching a man struggle to admit that he’s gay, watching another man run away from the inevitable death of his lover.  But all of this is rendered with a fourth wall very much in the way of me actually feeling anything for these characters, and most of the time, that fourth wall is in dating the show, so much of a moment that has passed.

Which brings us to The Normal Heart, which transfixed me for the two and a half hours with minimal staging, an extremely strong cast, but more than anything a play very much about the beginning of the AIDS epidemic that still managed to speak directly to me and to a sad reality facing my generation.  In a world of AZT, the cocktail and a multitude of ways to keep the devastating affects of HIV and AIDS at bay, this play amazingly cut through all of it, getting on an extremely well constructed soapbox to plead with the modern man to be aware that the epidemic still exists.

Through the incredible weaving together of statistics and horrifying anecdotes, the panic of an unknown disease killing off a community is rendered in armrest gripping speeches and devastating moments in the life of Ned Weekes.  There are so many constructs used in this show that could in turn be used against it (multiple endings within scenes, unrealistic polemics that don’t do a thing for plot), but they all serve the greater good of shaking you to your core while definitely inducing tears.

But more than anything, unlike Angels, here is a play that was speaking to me, grappling with a world that I still very much live in, as sad and crazy as that may seem.  The protagonist is constantly trying to understand what the gay community truly is, and attempting to define it against the simple stock suggestion of people that have sex and lots of it, eschewing this notion of free love that, in his mind, defined a generation.  Most nights I find myself NOT at a club or bar looking for the next trick and think, do I really belong to the gay community? Much of what has defined the community that I exist in doesn’t entirely gel with who I am, which is completely fine.  But to see that rendered as a debate on stage is thrilling, especially when it is the very fact of what defines my community that likely kept AIDS from being a hot button topic until four years had elapsed and too many had died for it to be ignored.

Like I said at the top, there’s no reason to truly compare these pieces, they have different goals at the end of the day.  However, I can absolutely tell you that I would gladly plop down another Broadway ticket price to see Normal Heart whereas I will be saying no thank you to another six hours of beautiful writing that seems to push the issue into the recent past as opposed to create a thrilling and heartbreaking search for answers that very much continues today.

On the art of being brought to tears…

This past weekend was a crash course of life lessons.  I had two days of directing filmed interviews for the Alzheimer’s Association, pulling out beautiful and harrowing stories of the people dealing with the disease, caregivers and patients alike.  I had a 19-year-old sit across from me explaining the importance of taking care of yourself before you can really take care of your family, wisdom beyond her (and my) years.  I had an 86-year-old explain to me the importance of finding a place where you can cry, surrounded by people all dealing with the same issue so the pain doesn’t become confounded by loneliness.

And those were just the lessons being presented in front of the camera, not the career lessons happening behind, from the mundane, keeping your carb load up, to the epic, being beyond privileged to have an amazing crew from PA to Producer standing behind me, supporting me, allowing me to focus on my own task — an amazing and welcome change from the one man band that has been the epitome of my career.

Being overwhelmed by all of this swirling around me, it got me thinking about the nature of tears, especially at this time of year.  The holidays have an amazing way of being the happiest and the saddest time, all of which is clearly indicated by the music of the season, some of my absolute favorites.  High on the list is “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve” as it plays out with quiet melodic beauty about wondering if you can push those early signs of love to the next level. Of course there’s Barbra Streisand taking it a bit too far as does Rufus Wainwright, but I’d say go with Mindy Smith who gives it a slight swing with the innocence of her voice contrasting the sorrow.

From the more classic pile of tunes, “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” always gets me, with that visual of Judy Garland perched in the window singing about a brighter new year with the inevitability that everyone wont still be together after the holidays – a true and gorgeous downer.  James Taylor turns it into a soft guitar driven masterpiece, resting nicely in his sumptuous voice.  Jane Monheit makes it a breathy mournful tune that finds an honesty in her voice, much like Nancy LaMott’s straightforward take that takes on a more blunt honesty.  If you need a bit more diva, there’s always Bette Midler, Barbra Streisand again, and a Kewpie doll cuteness from Bernadette Peters.  But for something truly special, go with Aimee Mann who throws on a walking bass and pitch perfect organ beneath her unique husky voice that with its breathier upper register both dazzles and breaks your heart.

This time of year is never complete for me without my annual viewing of Love Actually, which has yet to not bring me to tears, specifically Emma Thompson opening up her first gift on Christmas Eve, the sounds of the late recording of Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now” swelling.  I first saw this film in London with my mom the week it opened, on a magical night in Leicester Square on a magical trip.  Ever since then, it is requisite holiday viewing, even the year that I had forgotten the DVD at my father’s house and had him overnight it to me to make sure I didn’t miss out on my tradition.

Despite my wavering love of Glee this season, with episodes that have delighted but too many episodes that have substituted plot with “character development” in five minute spurts just so they could cover every character, I must admit that the Christmas episode got to me.  Watching Britney’s naïve belief in Santa Claus and her undying belief in Artie’s ability to walk was a surprisingly heartwarming bit of television.  And could “Welcome Christmas” at the end of the episode not move anyone?  Auto-tuned or not, it’s still a simple and moving piece of music that will always make me see the Grinch’s heart growing three sizes bigger.  Also this past week was a shocking episode of Bones in which Brennan has a personal crisis that I found beyond effective.  Of any procedural show on TV, it has done the best job of balancing real and developing characters, playing so pitch perfect on the back and forth love of Booth and Brennan.  I wont say more about the episode, but urge anyone with an intellectual heart to view it.

At this time of year, it’s change that generally brings a bit of water to the eyes for me.  It’s that same irrational fear I had every time a new school year started, that somehow it was going to be completely different (despite the fact that I went to the same school with the same people for fourteen years).  There’s that little voice in the back of your head saying, this next year will be different, partly from excitement of things you can change, partly from fear that we’ll all return from the holidays slightly different.  Well, this year, I can safely say things will change, and will indeed bring a tear to the eye.  After four years of living in my studio in Chelsea, I will be moving.  I’m extremely happy to report that I’m moving to a gorgeous new place that I’m so excited to turn into my home.  But I will be packing up the past four years in a place that hosted a hundred nights of Top Chef and Project Runway, that became the emergency home of my 24^th birthday due to a surprise rainstorm, that hosted dinner parties and holiday parties despite the fact that full occupancy isn’t really more than one.  It has been a happy home and office and with a heavy heart I will be finding myself in an amazing new situation that I can’t wait to make memories in for the next four, eight, ten, twenty-five years.

So why all this sadness?  I’ve got my health (check).  My family and friends more or less are happy and healthy (double check).  My career, especially these past couple months, has been thrilling and fantastic (I’m going to go ahead and give that a triple check).  It all goes back to the sentiment from that 86-year-old man who I got to spend a challenging but beautiful hour with, in which the lights in the studio and the cameras behind us disappeared, and together we uncovered the amazing power of the human spirit to overcome the deepest traumas.  And for him and in particular for his wife whose spirit has literally faded away over the past ten years, it comes from art.  The power of art to transcend, to move, to grant us solace and acceptance in things we should never have to face.  Long story short, I’m not sure there’s anything so wonderful as tears, the beauty of creating them, the relief of shedding them, their amazing power of granting you a moment in a world and in this city where taking a moment is often impossible, their power of bringing people together, both familiars and strangers, and at the end, the inevitable smile that is so often the result.  Have you ever noticed how close crying and laughing are?  I often can’t tell where one starts and the other ends…

On the art of Thanksgiving cooking…

Too many people far better than I have come out with ingenious things to say about cooking.  Even some less than stellar people have said more than their share about cooking.  But I find, after a long weekend of culinary exploits and eating, it’s only appropriate to create a top ten about food.  I cook because I like to.  More correctly, I cook because I like people praising me for my cooking.  So Thanksgiving became an ideal time to roll out every technique I possibly could to create a happy environment for family and loved ones to gather around… and praise me.

Unlike most dinner parties I put together, I decided to serve family style, as in everything on the table for people to dig in.  Seemed only appropriate given the holiday.  So rather than an impressive appetizer I did crudite with three dips, an herbed anise, a green onion and mint and the tastiest of the bunch, a spicy lemon aioli.  Matched with lots of fresh veggies, this was the light appetizer to start the meal off on the right foot, with a big ol’ glass of wine in your hand.

From there, it was all about starch!  There were classic mashed potatoes, filled with buttery and creamy goodness.  I went a touch non-traditional with sweet potatoes in a balsamic reduction.  I found this recipe to be a bit lackluster, although it could have been my preparation.  I seemed miffed by the idea of pieces of sweet potato, as opposed to whipped or cubed, and then I overcooked them, much to the delight of a few at my table.  I had much better luck with a farmhouse herbed stuffing recipe that honestly tasted like every other stuffing recipe, but I love stuffing, so it was delightful.

Because I like my food with an extra bit of bite, I decided to go with a twist on a classic with tart cherry cranberry sauce.  Thanks to my mom for paying attention to the cooking of this item, I was ready to pull it off the stove way before it’s time.  The end result was an odd and wonderful combination of sweet and tang that to me, is a lot better than the standard cranberry sauce, which I never understood.  To match that cherry goodness, and to break up the starch parade, I did a green bean salad with cherry vinaigrette and roasted walnuts.

And then there’s the big bird, in all its glory.  I’m not really the squeamish type in most things in life, but having your arm up in a turkey’s, ummm, cavity, is not ok with me, especially when you have to pull out the neck.  Oh yeah, a shiver just went down my spine remembering that whole episode.  But of course, I can’t do a normal turkey.  I chose to make a pancetta-sage turkey, which basically means creating pancetta-sage butter and sticking it underneath the skin all around the bird.  It’s not a pretty process, but I’m very happy to say the final result was tender and tasty, especially when doused with the unreal pancetta-sage gravy, which is basically just fat, stock and wine rendered down with some shallots.  Yum.

To close out the meal, it was all about the classics.  I tried a new apple pie recipe from Mario Batali that, despite only minor adjustments from a classic recipe, proved delectable, with the inspired addition of extra lemon juice and a bit of maple syrup.  Now next time I’ll just have to remember to add that bit of flour before baking to make the innards congeal appropriately.  Oops.  And then I tried my hand at a caramel pumpkin pie.  I’d call it a failure, but honestly it tasted like all other pumpkin pies I’ve ever had… kinda bland.  Although part of me thinks that it might have been the caramel bit that really tripped me up, the shock of pouring milk over the burning hot sugar and watching the entire thing coagulate into a giant suck candy.  Cooking is like science!

Wow, this was basically a column all about look at me kids, I can cook!  And hey, at the end of that Thanksgiving meal, all the smiling faces were much in the service of the same thing.  It feels good to be able to get an ego boost while bringing people you love to the same table.  Next year, ten new recipes to hopefully bring more Thanksgiving cheer…

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MOVIE Woman in the Dunes – a horrifying and gorgeously shot Japanese picture about captivity and conformity.  Worth a viewing if for the cinematography alone… B+

ACTOR Leslie Nielson – I can’t claim undying love for him, as his movies weren’t exactly my thing, but he certainly occupies a high seat of honor if for nothing else than Airplane!… no, I wont rate a dead guy, that’s just wrong

On the art of sentimentality…

There is a sentimental streak that runs deep beneath the surface of my artistic soul and critical exterior shell.  I like to think of it as my tasty sweet caramel center.  This core value exerts itself in oddly strong reactions to commercials, especially those of Hallmark, sad situations in otherwise funny sitcoms and some very choice movies of my late childhood. So let’s dive into analysis, shall we?

I cannot even begin to express my love of the following three films: Beaches, Fried Green Tomatoes and the incredible Steel Magnolias.  These have become classics to me, benchmarks of fine cinema of a different art form.  I don’t hold them up like a Kubrick or Billy Wilder film, but that doesn’t mean they are of any less value in my DVD collection.  Yet, if asked at a cocktail party, I probably wont immediately name drop those three female empowerment films unless the conversation naturally goes there.  So what’s the deal?  We take these sentimental beautiful films to the heart, but somehow we can’t honor them the same way we honor works of high drama and high art?

That brings me to a book that I simply never put down.  In fact, it single-handedly stopped me from my morning run two weeks in a row by sitting on my bedside table and being too tempting to fit in a couple of chapters before heading to the office.  That book would be The Help.  I was transfixed by these characters, to the point that I’m actually disappointed that I have finished the book this past weekend.  This is a true page-turner, and unlike Dan Brown’s version of page turning, I turn the page because I care about the protagonists, not because I’m crossing my fingers that the villains might finally take out Robert Langdon once and for all.  But again, I heard myself over drinks this past week sheepishly admitting that I’m engrossed in the book (thankfully the person I said it to quickly turned to me exclaiming that he was about to start listening to the audio book himself).

I continued my path down the sentimental by taking in the somewhat bloated holiday Broadway-style spectacle White Christmas.  While I sat watching this pageant rush across the stage, I couldn’t help but be swayed by the epic listenability of Irving Berlin’s score, the bright colors and the so clichéd plot that still somehow delights.  And here comes another admission, I was bummed that I didn’t see this when it was originally and briefly on Broadway, thinking that I couldn’t sink so low as to actually sit through what was just a ploy to get tourists to Broadway during the holiday season.

I’d say it gets even darker in the music world, in which “edge” is valued far and above all else.  Yes I’m speaking to you Ke@^$#ha (I know one of those symbols is right but I can’t be bothered to research which one) and Katy Perry (whose music is endlessly addictive but still bothers me because if you’ve ever heard her live you know she truly cannot sing).  So then we come to a new release from Josh Groban, Illuminations, in which he stretches from overly earnest belter of known saccharine properties to songs that sound like saccharine tunes you should already know.  And guess what, I actually like the album.  Rick Rubin has done enough to strip back the production (bu-bye David Foster, how much we don’t miss you) and the songs are lyrical enough to keep me smiling.  But I can promise you that this stays primarily on my iPod earbuds, not for general consumption and certainly not spinning on my speakers during a dinner party.

And that brings us back to the movies in which modern day sentiment is still being attempted, just this past weekend with Morning Glory.  This isn’t a great film and it seems almost factory produced to hit the basic requirements of pleasing an audience, and yet, there I was, happily entertained for nearly two hours, forgetting all the things that make a truly great movie in favor of well, actually smiling.  Thank god for good actors in pieces like that, keeping the whole thing afloat.

So what’s with the secret love of all these items?  Guess it’s not much of a secret anymore, but I do wish that our critical culture could find a way to actually embrace these things as much as the general public does.  Sure, it’s great that critics champion things that most people wouldn’t dare see without a heavy push, but the amount of tearing down of these sentimental art pieces has always seemed unnecessary.

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TV The Walking Dead – this AMC show is surprisingly good given how much of a retread over zombie movie tropes it is.  Thanks to good writing and a commanding lead in the form of Andrew Lincoln, this is definitely must see TV… B+

BOOK By Nightfall – I’m a huge fan of Michael Cunningham’s previous work, and this is no different.  It’s insightful, human and fascinating.  A modern day Death in Venice and for anyone familiar with NYC and the gallery scene, an amazing critique of our daily lives… A

FOOD Lambs Club – Step back in time to this fun overdone old-Hollywood style bar and restaurant.  Beyond the surroundings, including a huge fireplace, the food is actually quite impressive with amazing fish dishes… A-

On the art (or lack thereof) in the modern play…

I’ve spent a good deal of time these past couple weeks trudging from Broadway theater to Broadway theater, with a few off-Broadway theaters mixed in, watching the latest in straight plays. The straight play is a difficult gambit without the aid of music and song to help me forget shoddy writing and trite plot.  But that doesn’t stop me from going, and crossing my fingers for something good to be presented before me, even without the delight of song.  What can I say, it’s been a mixed bag at best…

I often find myself eager to see productions of shows from playwrights that I’ve loved in the past, or at least feel like I should love.  That brought me to the revival of David Mamet’s early work, A Life in the Theater (my interest aided by the casting of T.R. Knight and the incomparable Patrick Stewart).  Wow, was I bored.  The play is awkwardly paced, the series of vignettes occupying only 90 minutes feeling like an eternity thanks to languorous silences and an overabundance of costume and scene changes.  Basically the language of Mamet, the primary reason I want to see his shows, was entirely lost.

I had more faith for the epic A Free Man of Color written by John Guare.  I have to admit that I know very little of his earlier work beyond Six Degrees, but I was excited for what was being touted as a great new expansive piece.  That’s three hours of my life I’ll never get back.  The bloated production felt wrong in a time when amazing pieces cannot find their physical voice (made only more obvious in Guare’s odious rant against The Public Theater reported by the New York Times this past weekend).  I’m all for lavish and outrageous, but the piece became a polemic laced with obviousness shrouded in a cloud of humor that left me far on the other side of laughing.  If you’re interested in the interrogation of America’s long standing racism, do yourself a favor and spend your money on The Scottsboro Boys instead.

So the only place I had left to go was the familiar and razor sharp dialogue of Edward Albee, always guaranteed to please even when the play itself is something less than a masterworks.  His new piece, Me, Myself & I, is exactly that: whip smart dialogue in a play that somehow doesn’t quite add up to much.  Thankfully the piece is well acted, smartly staged and actually humorous. It’s nice when a well earned laugh comes from intelligence and not potty humor (more on that later).  By the end of it all, it was a bit more meta-theater than I would have liked, but I was thoroughly satisfied by my evening.

So it was off to the less tried and true in the hopes that a new voice in theater might be found.  As was evident from my own mini-rant last week, Elling was not going to satisfy on any level.  La Bete, not entirely new although new to me, was a fun evening of theater, even though the set malfunctioned before the first line of dialogue was uttered.  The play fell somewhere between brilliance in the dialogue to delving far too deep into the potty humor I referred to earlier.  I just can’t laugh all that hard at an endless rhyming monologue that includes a couple minutes spoken while on a toilet.  I found a whole lot more of interest in the revival of Arthur Kopit’s Wings, thanks to an incredible performance from Jan Maxwell and the always thrilling, if confusing, directing of John Doyle.  The use of video and Venetian blinds was dazzling.  And my final hope for something of interest came from Spirit Control, a new play by Beau Willimon who wrote my favorite of a couple years ago, the political intriguer Farragut North.  Unfortunately this new work didn’t do much more than make me thoroughly depressed, although I could see sparks of the same genius at play.  Delving into the more cerebral and otherworldly, Willimon seemed slightly lost, the bite and humor completely missing.

So is theater dead?  Absolutely not.  In fact, it’s very alive and I was happy to be able to take in such a wide variety of straight play, even if the final result was less than stellar.  That’s a whole lot more than I can say for the musical world in which hackneyed by way of tried and true has become the name of the game.  The only thing I can hope is that the great institutions of New York City take more risks, and that I, as a consumer, become more willing to take those same risks.  With time and money as limited as it is, it has become very hard to want to plop down in a seat and “try” something new.  I’m as bad as the producers, aiming toward things that I think will satisfy rather than taking that absolute left turn and test something that could completely bore me or enthrall me.

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DANCE Cedar Lake Dance – Program B at The Joyce was a fantastic combination of pieces of modern dance that is at once charismatic as it is poignant, bolstered by a set of strong dancers that excel at storytelling through propulsive movement… A-

MOVIE Art School Confidential – I’m still scratching my head over this one, and not in a good way.  It’s cliché after cliché of both art schools and indie film without adding up to anything other than to say what makes people famous in both has very little to do with talent… C-

On the art of programming your viewing whilst sick…

When sick, as in stuck in your bed not quite able to focus on book or magazine text, left with only audio visual aides to pass the time, the selection process becomes very intense.  You have to find that happy balance between something that will hold your attention so that you’re not bored, but not so much that you can’t drift into much needed sleep.  I have had the distinct pleasure of perfecting this balance over the course of a week of half days of work, and full afternoons and evenings of staring at the television.

The most effective thing to lull me into sleep has been Family Guy.  This is not to say that this show isn’t genius, it’s beyond genius, but so much of the funny can be enjoyed while in a haze, and despite having seen every episode, there are so many references within each show that it feels both familiar and fresh, the perfect blend to make me not feel guilty when my eyes inevitably shut.  Also along these lines are other animated gems like The Simpsons and Futurama.  Both smart enough to hold interest, but familiar enough to sleep.

For my more lucid moments, I tried to find movies that I swore I’d see in theaters and completely failed to somehow get there.  I started off with the animated feature The Secret of Kells, which had tons of whimsy and fanciful animation to keep me floating.  Gorgeously created and mercifully short enough to never realize there’s not much in a way of plot. Combine a viewing of this right before you take some TylenolPM or Nyquil, and you’ll be floating.  Along the same intoxicating lines, I watched Terry Gilliam’s Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus and found myself mesmerized but a little too lightly.  Visually this piece is incredible, with the added bonus drama of being Heath Ledger’s final onscreen performance, but the impact of the story never quite hit me.  And then for the sheer stupidity but enjoyability of it, I watched Planet 51, which satisfied the 12 year old in me as I drank my chicken noodle soup.

In the TV world, I continued to dig into Pushing Daisies, reminding myself of a time when I really did enjoy a weekly television series.  And thanks to having nothing but time, I removed my block on Fringe, which had begun to bother me with all its twists and turns and back-stories, and got familiar with the team again.  That show should have way more than just the devoted tuning in, as it truly is one of the most intelligent and bizarre pieces of television being created these days.

So what did I learn on this odyssey through sickness?  That in this day and age there are way too many different ways in which you can watch media.  I had a computer on my right, my TV in front of me, my Roku and TiVo just off to the side, sitting atop my DVD player.  Seriously, how many different methods must one household have to occupy my time!  Thankfully, for once, I had time to enjoy all of them, but what about the 51 other weeks of the year when I’m not ill!?

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PLAY Elling – I do not understand how things like this make it to Broadway!?  It’s a perfectly half-decent play that should be performed by talented unknowns off-Broadway.  Instead, the comedy is being jammed down throats by actors of name (and some note).  Thank you Brendan Fraser for not only being a marquee name, but also bringing a heart and intelligence to your role… C

MOVIE Annie Get Your Gun – it’s hard to believe I’d never seen this movie all the way through… until I got to the song “I’m an Indian, Too,” with all its lyrical racism.  At the end of the day, this is a fun, if light film, that could have used stronger direction… B

On the art of the movie sountrack…

A recent conversation held well before the sun had risen turned my mind on to how odd it is that I listen to movie soundtracks daily, and rarely as background noise.  To be clear, this is highly different than my natural disposition to listen to music every single moment of every single day, or as I like to think of it, soundtracking my life.  So why on earth do I like to wake up in the morning and put on the angsty genius score to Requiem for a Dream?

Well, first let’s just establish that the Requiem soundtrack is awesome, even if it makes you feel like you’re going on the worst trip of your life (drug trip, not necessarily travel related), with its electro addled beats and sweeping use of the Kronos Quartet.  But how can you not be transported out of your day by the heroic swells of Braveheart or The Last of the Mohicans.  Neither of these movies ranks anywhere high on my list of great films (sorry dad), but there’s an undeniable power to these scores and thus, I suppose, not totally illogical that you might be inclined to play them during your day to give you that heroic sense of purpose.

Moving right along, we come to whimsy courtesy of Danny Elfman and his lyrical score for Edward Scissorhands.  As winter approaches, this soundtrack sits on my iPod waiting for the first snow.  There’s nothing like listening to those sweeping choral moments as you watch the first white flakes fall from the sky.  You can also find excellent whimsy in the playful joy of the music of Amelie, admittedly best listened to while walking the clichéd streets of Paris.

Then there’s the darker side of the soundtrack, which would be my favorite side. The Passion of the Christ is unbelievably powerful as is the soaring vocals on the Perfume soundtrack (and if you haven’t seen either movie, for shame… both deeply flawed, but fantastic).  For something a little more worldly, take in the deep joys of the music from Black Hawk Down or Babel, both of which seep into the soul as they lushly flow from the speakers making you feel either like the world is ending or finally making sense (or is that the same thing?)

So I guess, long story short, this is in fact a way of more obviously soundtracking my life, as these are already soundtracks.  But, I think it takes a special breed, and by special I mean odd, to really delve deeply into the emotional psyche to the point of actually attempting to bring tears to the eyes.  Basically, I just really like to wallow in my feelings, good, bad or indifferent.  Just call me crazy…

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MOVIE Waiting for Superman – a decent documentary that is being showered with way too much praise.  Guggenheim is a master at finding stories, if only he knew how to tell them on film just a bit better… B

BOOK Yellow Raft in Blue Water – three gorgeous narratives about three generations of Native American women told with such a subtle and strong voice… A-

MOVIE Mildred Pierce – I finally watched this Joan Crawford classic and was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t all that campy.  I hope Todd Haynes and Kate Winslet can do it justice in the upcoming miniseries… B+

On the art of stretching…

No, I’m not referring to yoga.  I’m currently at a lovely juncture in my young career of making a bit of a left turn, finally getting the opportunities that have more to do with my intended future and less to do with my fantastic past (I’ve liked life so far, what can I say).  But it’s gotten me to think about that moment when artists take a distinct left turn in their career and often find themselves criticized for trying something that doesn’t quite fit into the box of their previous output.  Thankfully my life and career aren’t under a microscope, so my turn will have zero bearing on any of you, except that it’ll continue to make me happy, which in turn aught to make at least some of you readers out there happy.

These first thoughts struck me after reading reviews of Sugarland’s new album The Incredible Machine which many have said is a clear attempt at anthemic stadium rock.  Having recently seen them in Virginia on tour in a live show that made me ecstatic, especially when they covered Mumford & Sons “Sigh No More” alongside their opening act, Little Big Town.  So what’s so wrong with trying something a little new?  To my ears, this album is an enjoyable continuation of their evolution as something between country and pop that is often sappy, often too catchy and above all else, enjoyable.  If you really want to take offense, have issues with the lead singer finding her reggae soul in the first single “Stuck Like Glue.” I love it, but I can see why someone might object.

That sent me down memory lane to a horrifying moment in the long and multi-faceted career of the icon of all icons, Madonna.  I might be the only person who looked past the pathetic rap stylings on the much reviled American Life album, which to this day, I will assert contains some beautifully written songs of a caliber higher than the usual find-the-next-hit trend.  Go figure, we all have varying taste, I just like to think mine, by the end of history, will prove to be right.  Which quickly flashed me back to a time when I wasn’t alive, when the incredible ingénue Barbra Streisand moved from standards to rock.  I can’t think of anything I love more than hearing her proclaim that she was raised on the good book Jesus in Lara Nyro’s stupendous “Stoney End.” And I must admit I start many a morning listening to the awesome tracks on Barbra Joan Streisand, an album that covers three glorious songs from Carole King along with a smattering of other odd delights, including the mash-up of Burt Bachrach’s “One Less Bell to Answer/A House is Not a Home.”

But these are just evolutions of taste and genres.  And in the case of Madonna, I would like to acknowledge how long she has remained relevant through reinvention.  Like it or not, even if you think her taste level and her scary yoga defined arms (I knew I could work yoga back in here somehow) are repulsive, she has an unbelievable knack for staying afloat and often staying ahead of the trends that she then sets.  And in a culture that constantly demands the next thing, how can you not make that left turn in your career?  Doing the same thing over and over again is as boring for the audience as it must be for the artist (although recent albums from Rod Stewart, Michael Buble and Barry Manilow make me think money might be directly related to artistic inertia).

And then there are people who break out of a much greater mold, like Justin Timberlake who people seem to be on the fence as to whether or not he’s a valid actor.  While I loved The Social Network, I will admit that I wasn’t totally sold on his performance as Sean Parker.  A lot of that opinion actually came from feeling like he wasn’t acting and just playing some form of his uber-successful self.  The only reason I know that this isn’t quite right is because the man has shown good sensibilities and chops in the total flop (that I found fascinating) Southland Tales.  His brief screen time is rather transcendent and added yet another layer of so-disastrous-you-have-to-watch-it intrigue.

Long story short, thank god people take the risk to push their career forward.  If they didn’t, we wouldn’t have art, we’d have more Britney Spears than we could possibly know what to do with, and where would that leave culture?

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MOVIE Hereafter – Clint Eastwood makes an odd attempt at multiple plot storytelling that is too contrived to be convincing, but it has its moments, there’s no doubt about that given the tears in my eyes… B-

MUSICAL La Cage aux Folles – Why is this back on Broadway?  What era do we live in?  I’ve never understood this Jerry Herman disaster, but at least the previous revival had enough sequins to distract me.  This one just left me cold… C

FOOD Bricca – apparently food does exist out of NYC, who knew?  This Connecticut eatery is serving up fanciful Italian fare.  But we all know the real way to my heart is through dessert, and thanks to an excellent olive oil gelato, my meal was capped perfectly…A-

On the art of joy and the joy of art, also known as the American Musical…

After last week’s decidedly dark entry on the world and the world of art, I felt it necessary to spend the week reconnecting with the unbridled joy that comes from artistic expression. More specifically the art of the musical.

This past week has been filled with cast recordings from recent Broadway sensations, always a source of happiness for me, especially when stuck in the apartment cooking and cleaning.  Despite my initial lack of love for the musical Memphis, I’ve been pleasantly surprised that the recording has brought new light to an actually worthy show even if it really just is one large placating Broadway showstopper aimed at the tourist set.  Without the bombast of the staging, stripped just to the songs, the show does actually shine.  I’ve also thoroughly enjoyed listening to the recording of Fela! The impressive essence capturing performance is completely transported through the recording, although at the end of the day, it really only made me go back to the original recordings of Fela Kuti, especially his hit political song “Zombie.”

The true highlight of the week was seeing Kander & Ebb’s new Broadway sensation The Scottsboro Boys.  This is 100 minutes of shocking and gorgeously directed commanding theater.  In the guise of a minstrel show, an impressive cast of unknowns brings to stunning life the injustice of the rape trial that sealed the fate of nine black men in Alabama.  Unlike the subtle subversive stylings of Cabaret and Chicago, in which numbers start nice and sweet and turn on a dime at the end, this show goes for the gut almost immediately.  In an effort to give nothing away, I will simply say that there is a tap number in the middle of the show that had my mouth dropping to the floor.  It is a truly beautiful thing to watch art speak so clearly and so powerfully on a subject with which this nation still hasn’t truly come to terms.

The week culminated in the oddly enjoyable taking in of the opening night of the New York Cabaret Festival at Town Hall entitled Broadway Melody Makers.  While the show lacked an truly cohesive order, other than to say that in the over 100 years of the great white way, some great people have written great melodies, clearly aimed at pleasing an older set with songs they actually know.  The real pleasure here was seeing the pop-recording and occasional stage star Nellie McKay prove that crazy is always a good approach to interpreting music.  She moved swiftly from a precious version of “What’ll I Do” to a playful uke version of “Don’t Fence Me In” capping off the evening with a Steve and Edie style delightful take on the Pal Joey classic, “I Could Write a Book.”  The girl knows how to interpret a tune making it fresh, unique and, well, odd.  The show also packed some excellent punches from Mary Testa, Judy Kaye, Gregg Edelmann and the incomparable Alice Ripley, taking on such a wide range of quality in tunes like Sondheim’s “Being Alive” from Company and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “As If We Never Said Goodbye.”

On the intersection of pain and art…

I had the distinct, um, pleasure is not the right word…I saw Buried recently and was shocked, dismayed, and walked out of the theater wondering if the world could ever be made right again.  And all that from a movie in which the attractive and affable Ryan Reynolds is stuck in a coffin.  More than anything, it’s a testament to a director’s ability to make a tiny space fascinating for 90 minutes, but I had to wonder why I actually wanted to sit through something of that nature.  In the immediate, I had no great reason to share.

So I started to think of other art forms, and thanks to her new movie, Nowhere Boy (which I have yet to see) I remembered an amazing exhibition of Sam Taylor Wood’s oversized photographs.  The Crying Man series features famous actors shedding massive tears.  They’re evocative, sorrowful, but ultimately beautiful.  Even more to the point is her Self Portraits – Suspended series, in which she photographs herself bound but digitally removes the restraints, creating this juxtaposition of contorted and painful body positioning with a sense of true gorgeous liberation.  There’s something cathartic in each of these pieces.

From there I jumped to the book I’m currently reading and can’t quite put down, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows.  It’s unrelentingly dark in the first 200 pages and hard for me to imagine a parent reading it as a bedtime story to their child.  Gone are the friendly confines of Hogwarts that even during dark times provided a safe haven for the reader.  But I don’t question that kids need to be exposed to this deep seated darkness, as it is so much a part of their world simply by turning on the evening news (more on that later).  These visions of darkness repeat in the visually stunning kids flick Coraline in which a child’s own fantasy seemingly turns on her.  And then there’s the glorious computer animated 9 with its apocalyptic setting and heavy use of Nazi and holocaust imagery.  Survival, even in a kid’s forum seems dire.

But back to this sense of liberation, which definitely was felt leaving the darkened theater of Buried, of wondering what I would do in the situation and even more thankful that I haven’t been in that situation.  All of which turned my head back to United 93, a movie I wanted to hate, that I wanted to say was “too soon,” but instead found myself bawling and feeling a relief that someone actually stepped up to the plate and turned very real suffering into a taught, emotional piece of filmmaking.  I have similar feelings about Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close in which 9/11 is translated into the even more heartrending simple story of a child on a quest to find any piece of his father that remains.

So is it really a coping mechanism?  There’s no doubt that for an artist, as an artist, delving into that part of your soul to produce is immensely satisfying and ultimately healing.  But what of the viewer, why take in these decidedly dark art forms?  And all I can say is that given the world we live in, of course we need these outlets.  Watching someone else’s pain projected large in a darkened movie theater is essential when the world just waiting outside the theater isn’t any safer.

In recent days and weeks, New York has become a rather scary place.  It is still the place I love, the city I now and will continue to call home, but it’s impossible to turn a blind eye to the hate that is permeating the streets.  The fact that gay bashing occurred within The Stonewall, the very site of the beginnings of the gay civil rights movement in NYC, is unfathomable.  The fact that three men burned and sodomized suspected homosexuals in the Bronx is unimaginable.  That men are still committing suicide over being gay, too tortured within and without to foresee a life of acceptance, incomprehensible. But more than anything, the fact that politicians are using a platform of hate to whip up voter support in this election season is inexcusable.  There was a time when I thought it was impossible that the rest of America would embrace people that preach hate, but if I’ve seen anything in recent days, it’s that this is a marketable and powerful platform.

Art is by all means a part of this discussion.  When a woman, in the name of her lord and savior, takes a bat to a piece of art at a Colorado art museum, you have to start believing that the entire country is a lot further behind in human progress than any of us had hoped.

MUSICAL – Brief Encounter – a sheer delight from beginning to end, with beautifully interpreted takes on Noel Coward classic tunes and staged with ingenuity and extreme British whimsy… A

FOOD – Casa – this Brazilian joint is a slice of heaven for a mid-afternoon three hour gorging, even better when you bring your Brazilian friends who can order the right combination and make sure you keep drinking those excellent caipirinhas…A

On how music might be more important than story…

Music is essential.  This is especially true with someone like me who actually soundtracks my every day existence.  The very goodness of a day can be completely swayed by my musical inclination.  For instance, last week, I rediscovered the amazing Andrew Bird (he hadn’t gone anywhere, he just got lost in my 30,980 other tracks of music to choose from every day).  Thanks to that rediscovery, I had a thoroughly lovely and productive day.  Given the importance of music, I found it fascinating that I have experienced a number of cultural moments in which music may in fact be more important than the effectiveness of the story being told (when they’re both excellent, well, that’s just sublime, but let’s face it, that’s a rarity).

First let’s tackle the musical genius of the folks behind ABBA, Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus.  They composed what might be my most favorite musical ever written, Chess, and I was fortunate enough to see a rare staged version of said show in Arlington Virginia at the Signature Theater.  What I had always known was further proved, the story is convoluted, with international intrigue superceding human emotion.  It’s a notorious show for its incoherence, and this version did an amazing job overcoming those deficiencies.  A small round of applause for the Euon Morton, continuing to prove that he should be a Broadway star by now.

So then I went back into my vault and listened to the recent recording of Chess Live at the Royal Albert Hall.  It’s a more full score, and more full sounding with a massive chorus, but throws in even more intrigue and backstabbing to the point where it’s impossible to remember who is Russian and who is English.  Hands down the best recording, both on an emotional level and possibly a storytelling one as well is the 2002 Danish Cast Recording.  That one sends chills down the spine!  And then there’s the Original Broadway Cast Recording, which turns the score into a completely singles based showpiece, without the lush interludes that make it an opera.  Sadly, the version that holds the most weight in my heart was never recorded, and that would be the 2002 Actors’ Fund Benefit performance, which I had the immense pleasure of seeing live.

So what have we learned?  Well, I probably own too many recordings of Chess.  Aside from that, the story might not actually matter.  In every iteration, as songs move between characters in different versions, one thing stands, and that’s the music.  It’s gorgeous.  It’s sumptuous.  It’s thought provoking even without knowing the story.

And this is by no means a one time happening for the greats behind Swedish pop.  Their follow-up to Chess is the heartbreaking gorgeous pop opera Kristina.  The story of a woman’s journey from Sweden to America is not exactly thrilling.  The main climactic moments are people succumbing to illness, an infestation of lice, and the epic debate about having a ninth child.  But thanks to the incredible music and the even more incredible performances from voices that are not even human in their perfection, the two and half hour opera soars.  Thankfully the first time it was performed in English at Carnegie Hall, it was recorded, and I swear to god you can hear my ecstatic shouts after the incredible performance by Helen Sjöholm of “Here I Am Again.”  And yet, I’m not sure I ever need to see a fully staged version.

So what of other musicals?  One could argue that the music of Burt Bacharach and Hal David, as showcased by Promises, Promises carries that show along and even overcomes the lackluster but enjoyable vocals of Sean Hayes.  And sure mini-Kristen Chenoweth can sing gorgeously, but she’s completely wrong for the role.  And in the end I don’t really care.  I could sit through that show over and over, lapping up the period dress, the over articulated dancing, but more than anything, the music that is by far better that Neil Simon’s script based on that unbelievable and untouchable cinema classic The Apartment.

PLAY Bottom of the World – seriously?  Someone thought it was a good idea to stage this crap-tastic play about a lesbian dealing with the death of her sister, mirrored in an awkward country bumpkin parallel tale?  Drama school students have produced better writing for exercises than this garbage… F

On the excellence of TV… from seasons past

There’s no doubt that the end of September is an exciting time when we can return to our caves, veg out and watch new TV programming.  But that excitement is often vanquished by the realization that so much new TV is so not worth following.  Even more horrifying is getting invested in some truly great new drama only to find yourself two years down the line, loving every minute of a show along with a measly 7 million other people, a number that makes TV execs kill the show.  And now that we have so many old shows at our fingertips through DVDs, Netflix, Roku, Hulu, etc, it becomes even harder to want to live in the present when the past has so much better to offer.  So I embark on this September with a bit of hope and a greater bit of trepidation…

I don’t know what I was thinking watching Hawaii Five-0.  I have no love for the original and was bored within the first ten minutes of the new one.  The bright spot of this reboot is Scott Caan whose mix of brash comedy and heartwarming back-story actually makes him an interesting and real character. For bit of intrigue, I’m heading to Fox’s Lone Star, which had a thrilling pilot that was actually intelligent, mixed with a great soundtrack and a story that I’m dying to see develop.  And if you really need cops/robbers/spies, turn your attention to this summer’s surprise delight, Covert Affairs, in which Piper Perabo demonstrates she’s always been more than that girl grinding up on the bar.  It’s Alias with a bit less kick-ass and a bit more heart.

For Comedy, I thought there was promise in Running Wilde, possibly picking up where the hilarious and too short-lived Arrested Development left off.  Alas, that pilot had only the odd humor without the intelligence.  I run very hot and cold with Will Arnett, who was well balanced with a large cast in AD, but acting as the lead against the charismatic, gorgeous, and possibly not funny Keri Russell, there’s nothing to really enjoy.  Hopefully they’ll find the comedy in the episodes to come.  I was more pleasantly surprised by Raising Hope, which also needs to find the humor, but at least offers up the interesting Martha Plimpton and a zany trailer park vibe that has great potential.

And if you thought life would be better if we could return to three camera sitcoms, well, there’s $&#@! My Father Says potentially proving that it will still be awhile before someone remembers how to write good comedy, or that basing a show on a twitter feed is about the best idea anyone had since basing a show on a Geico commercial.  If you need funny, go back to returning greats like Modern Family and the still funny and still titled Cougar Town. Neither of their premieres was particularly fantastic, but there was certainly a great deal more to enjoy.

And at the end of the day, what do I really feel like watching?  The things I miss from years past.  I’ve been having a hugely enjoyable time making my way through the whimsy and creative genius of Pushing Daisies, the shock, thrill and horror of The X-Files, and the great British humor of The Vicar of Dibley. It does make it hard to invest in new shows when there are some fantastic previous seasons to enjoy and new-old things to discover.  Seriously, take a look at Greg Berlanti’s Jack & Bobby and try to figure out how that didn’t survive but Berlanti’s Brothers & Sisters is still going strong, a show that has failed to create a worthy storyline since the first half of the first season and unfortunately has promoted beautiful but useless Gilles Marini to a series regular.

MOVIE Devil – I thank you M. Night for only coming up with the story and producing this excellent B-movie, allowing a wiser director to tell a fairly gripping surreal and claustrophobic story… B+

Before I do anything on this fine day, I must give a shout out to my amazing grandmother who turns 90 years old today!  Without her, this column wouldn’t exist.  Since my day one she has embraced and shared with me her passion for all things cultural.  More than anything, she taught me to love NYC.  For my birthday three years in a row (13 through 15) she took me to NYC for a weekend of theater, eating and museum visits.  I will never forget that first bite of pecorino filled tortellini soup at the original MoMA, eating high above the sculpture garden and thinking I want every day of my life to taste this good and be this exciting.  And three short years later from that last trip, I made that dream a reality.  The only part missing is that she doesn’t live here, but that hasn’t stopped her influence.  At least once every month I receive a phone call from my grandma asking what cultural event do I want to see that I’m resisting… and moments later there’s a ticket in my hand.

So thank you grandma, on this very big day in your life, for making me stop and appreciate every day in mine…

On the importance of re-casting…

Recasting a Broadway show is a delicate balance that these days seem trumped by stunt or event casting.  Chicago is the best example with the revolving door of celebrities taking over the leads month after month (it’s gone from almost A-list to distinct D-list these days).  One of my absolute favorite replacements just from sheer oddity was Toni Braxton in Aida, who stepped into the way too huge shoes of Heather Hedley (yes, there was a Destiny’s Child in between, but who cares).  The score had to be lowered to fit her vocal range and the attitude she brought to the role was very, umm, modern.  It made no sense, but something about it actually worked and did bring a last breath of life into a fleeting, if wonderful, show.

I recently had the distinct displeasure of watching Bernadette Peters take over the role of Desiree Armfeldt from the surprisingly luminous Catherine Zeta Jones in A Little Night Music.  What was once a delicate show of subtle beauty became an odd farce with Bernadette attempting to match the zany youth of the actual youthful Anne.  It was, to be blunt, peculiar.  And then there was Elaine Stritch replacing Angela Lansbury, an excellent idea that left me confused, or rather Stritch confused as she couldn’t remember a good portion of her lines or song.

So it was with mixed emotions that I took my seat at Next to Normal, a show I’ve enjoyed twice previously with the stellar original cast led by the incomparable Alice Ripley who tore through her role with the excitement that live theater is meant to contain.  But I had hopes, as the producers avoided stunt casting in favor of Broadway gravitas by placing Marin Mazzie in the lead.  Her interpretation was much more arch than Ripley, finding moments of humor and levity that I hadn’t been aware of before.  Vocally I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.  Mazzie has a unique power that floats from a strong chest voice to a growl to an oddly light falsetto, the combination of which has proved fantastic in other roles.  But I couldn’t shake Ripley’s more forceful attack on the role that sent shivers down my spine.  Maybe it’s unfair to Mazzie, who is not receiving the same excellent support from the other players.  Her husband, both on and off stage, brings nothing to the role of Dan.  The replacement daughter has the exact same voice as the original… when she hits the right notes, that is.  And then there’s the easy on the eyes Kyle Dean Massey who has a distinctly beautiful voice that unfortunately is overwhelmed by the orchestrations.  All in all, the show is amazing in any iteration, so I say cast whoever you want, I’ll clearly still show.

On a completely different topic, the pre-theater dinner at Aureole was divine.  The meal kicked off with a micro lamb carpaccio, compliments of the chef, that was one bite of heaven.  Then it was on to the tuna tartar, whimsically prepared on a flat platter, tuna on one side topped by a “yolk” of dressing, flanked by a series of flavor boosting items that you mix yourself on the platter to create a delectable appetizer.  While Angelo on the series finale of Top Chef: DC was reprimanded for having a dish that required too many instructions to eat, I have to say there’s nothing I like better than engaging my food exactly as the chef intended it to be eaten.  It makes dining fun.  For my main course, I dove into a succulent cut of beef tenderloin that nearly melted in my mouth, topped with a fantastic bacon infused sauce.  This was accompanied by rich goat cheese whipped potatoes and salty sea greens.  The whole meal was capped off with a palette cleansing iced mango cup, a perfectly balanced watermelon soup with blueberries and candied olives (a  fascinating blend of salt and sweet) and truffle service.  A nice shout out to Jim for pairing the whole meal with an excellent and well matched pinot noir.

FOOD Izakaya Ten – A fascinatingly tasty Japanese tapas restaurant.  It’s the perfect post-theater eatery, to give you just enough yummy food to go to bed without feeling the usual pangs of hunger that come an hour after a Japanese meal – A-

ALBUM Mumford & Sons – Sigh No More – after recommending one of their tracks used in the Lone Star pilot, I downloaded the whole album and am completely enthralled by the harmonies of Fleet Foxes, the melody making of Delta Spirit, the orchestrations of Sufjan Stevens, all combined into sonic delight – A+

TV Tosh.O – I didn’t think I would ever really enjoy a show that basically is a compendium of every “humorous” email you are mass forwarded with inane videos attached, but thanks to Daniel Tosh’s bright humor, this thing actually makes me laugh – B+

MOVIE Pageant – it’s not a pretty documentary, but there’s something touching in following four contestants on their dream of capturing the crown of Miss Gay America.  It’s the stories that keep you invested: the 26-year-old whose Catholic Italian family is actually proud of him, the awkward Disney employee whose dance partner and main support is straight – B

Welcome to the revamped column!  After a lovely and much needed break from writing, I decided that I wanted the next phase to focus more on integration of culture into my life, less a list and more of an interrogation of how one bit of culture leads to the next.  You’ll still get your ten items, but you’ll find a short list discussed in a more complete format followed by a brief list to round out the ten.  This allows me, and hopefully you as well, to dwell a bit more deeply on specific items of fascination.  I hope you enjoy this next iteration!

Why are clichés often so satisfying?

I decided to see Going the Distance this weekend because that’s pretty much the speed at which my brain was operating on Saturday morning.  As is my custom, I picked up a fantastic little bite to eat (Murray’s Bagels, more specifically) and ate my breakfast in the empty movie theater.  If you’ve never attempted this, you’re truly missing out.

I sat through the two hours more or less entertained, but marveling at the fact that these very same clichés that I’ve ragged on in other movies (montage of togetherness in NYC, zany friends/sister sidekicks who speak the truth that the protagonists will promptly ignore, satisfyingly tidy semi-believable endings) worked for me here enough to say that I’d recommend the film.  A huge hand has to be given to the leads, both believable and just adorable enough to be worth rooting for.  A huger hand needs to be given to those zany sidekicks who give humor where there could have been none (special mention to the delightful Sarah Burns of Monogamy fame).  But I think the true reason these things keep working in some way is because we want them to.  As much as we can look through the clichés, we’re still hooked by them in a very real and emotional way.

And then comes the music, that somewhat indie/retro soundtrack that makes any romantic comedy worth seeing.  In this case you get the standard issue tracks from The Cure and The Pretenders, but you also get great pieces from Cat Power and The Replacements.  Paramount among all of this is The Boxer Rebellion, appearing at multiple points throughout the film, singing tracks from their awesome 2009 album Union.

Music continued to make my weekend pleasant as I watched a screener for the new Fox drama Lone Star, which demonstrated fantastic musical taste in the likes of The Antlers and new favorite Mumford & Sons and their amazing track “Awake My Soul.” The show itself has a ridiculously charismatic lead, a twist worthy plot that the excellent cast sells despite, yes, way too many clichés.  I say give it a chance and watch, if only for the leading man and the use of music, on September 20^th when it premieres.

ALBUM Sufjan Stevens – All the Delighted People EP – a worthy entry, if lesser than previous works, into the vast Sufjan canon.  Here’s hoping the upcoming new album pushes just a bit further – B

MOVIE World’s Greatest Dad (2009) – a very odd but at times poignant film starring Robin Williams and directed by none other than comedian Bobcat Goldthwait.  Simply put, weird – C+

FOOD Wakamono – this Chicago sushi haunt offers up very worthy roll specials and a smattering of tasty appetizers.  But go for the drinks, that’s what it’s all really about – B+

ALBUM Cast Recording – Finian’s Rainbow – not quite as delightful as seeing the show, in which the odd musicality makes a touch more sense, but there’s little to complain about when listening to “How Are Things in Glocca Morra” and “Old Devil Moon” – B+

It has been an absolute pleasure for two years now to regale you with tales of my cultural exploits throughout NYC and beyond.  But as with all things, there comes a time when you need to reinvent in order to find renewed vigor in the process.  And if my name were Madonna, this would have likely happened quite a while ago.  But alas, my name is not.

So the time has come to step back and return in a couple weeks with a completely fresh take on My Top Ten RIGHT NOW.  Come September, I hope be back to entertain and inform, but in a completely revitalized way.

Thanks again for the faithful reading!
JLK

1. MOVIE Inception

There is no doubt that I was blown away by the visuals of this film, enough to keep me interested for two and a half hours and work very hard to understand the layers of the dream story.  But when my brain turned back on with the lights as the credits rolled, I couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied.  Much of the script is exposition explaining the machinations of the dream worlds and the central emotional relationship felt completely underdeveloped, save for my natural love of all things Marion Cotillard.  Worth viewing on the big screen, but somehow not everything I needed it to be… B

2. MUSICAL A Little Night Music

I returned to the Walter Kerr Theater to see how two fresh leads would alter an already lovely production of this Sondheim show.  I was left with a big question mark hanging over my head.  Bernadette Peters seems completely lost on stage, with none of the lovely showmanship that won Catherine Zeta Jones her Tony.  Elaine Stritch delivers an off-kilter and pleasurable performance, but the line between her character’s senility and her own was often too blurred for professional theater.  I hope these two stellar women of the Great White Way can pull themselves together as the run continues…C+

3. BOOK Eat Pray Love

I love and hate this book.  Following someone’s highly selfish pursuit through three lands of self discovery is often fascinating and often times speaking a little close to my own emotional issues.  But somewhere in the midst of yet another explanation of enlightenment, I found myself a little lost.  As the author puts it herself, it’s nearly impossible to describe one’s own approaching nirvana.  Which is why I have high hopes for the film, in which I hope they can distill what are many pleasurable bits and pieces of this travel epic into a glorious visual form… B+

4. FOOD Mother Burger

With all the foams and gastro ridiculousness of NYC, it’s easy to forget how good simple food can satisfy.  This place serves up the simplest of juicy burgers, perfectly cooked and covered with an excellent pepperjack cheese.  But what really sets this place apart is the ability to eat outside in a plaza in midtown while sucking down delicious margaritas.  A simple but excellent choice… A-

5. ALBUM Dark Night of the Soul

A bizarre collaboration between Danger Mouse and the late Sparklehorse has provided a deep dark collection of worthy tunes with amazing guest vocals from The Shins, The Strokes, Suzanne Vega, Nina Persson and David Lynch.  With that kind of lineup, you’re bound for intriguing results and this album delivers.  Not always listenable, each track is so well produced that it welcomes the listener into another realm of the soul.  I haven’t quite grasped this one, but I look forward to continuing to listen and understanding… A-

6. MOVIE This Is It

I wasn’t sure I really wanted to see this film, preferring to remember Michael in the perfect form that has graced my iPod.  The thought of incomplete concert footage edited together into a feature seemed dull and exploitative.  While I’m not completely wrong about that, it’s also thrilling to watch the man work.  His ideas are huge, his passion even larger, despite his clear wacky frailty.  I wish Kenny Ortega had a little more panache in his editing, not relying solely on Jackson’s charisma to carry the piece.  Seriously the opening bit with the dancers is the most interesting part of the filmmaking.  All in all, worth a viewing just to realize what could have been… B

7. TV Project Runway

Yet another season has begun, filled with the usual cast of unusuals.  This time around, people seem to be flying their freak flag even higher, pulling together a bunch of designers with more unique, if not beautiful, visions.  I’m willing to go down this path again, because let’s face it, it’s still great TV, but I do worry about lost steam, clearly seen in the overwrought extended first episode in which the cast expressed shock that someone would go home so quickly.  Ummm, that’s the point of the show… B+

8. ALBUM 100 Miles from Memphis Sheryl Crow

Memphis blues should fit very nicely into the musical world of Sheryl Crow.  And many of the tracks are nice, with their amplified soul, but the full listen isn’t exactly rewarding.  Her vocals seem a bit strained and off, and not in the gorgeous and evocative way they were for the very personal Detours.  And that’s just it, while sonically enjoyable, Crow seems completely removed from the music she’s singing.  And don’t get me started on the bizarre cover of the Jackson 5 classic “I Want You Back” in which Crow and Michael might as well have the same voice… C

9. ALBUM Fly Yellow Moon Fyfe Dangerfield

The first track on this album is a bid for pop popularity, and then everything after is gorgeously retro.  Things slow to a ‘70s cool, with deep vocals creating a thrilling hybrid of The National and Midlake with a touch of Damian Rice.  Coming from the awesome band, The Guillemots, Dangerfield is in shiny delightful form, recreating sunshine rock in a modern guise that is new but recognizable.  This is a must… A

10. MOVIE Zombieland

I had no real expectations for this film, but was so pleased to spend 90 summer evening minutes with this awesome take on the zombie genre.  I expect greatness from Woody Harrelson and he delivers nicely here, as does the rest of the ragtag cast, including Abigail Breslin who I’ve grown to appreciate.  But the direction is what makes this film beyond enjoyable.  It’s witty and winking but still with heart, making use of such overblown tropes in a fresh enough way to keep me smiling… A-

In my latest stint of movie-going, I’ve noticed a distinct greater excitement at previews, sometimes more than the main feature.  Multiple flicks, edited down into three minute bite size bits is often so far more exciting that by the time the opening credits roll, I’ve forgotten why I stepped inside the theater in the first place.  So in honor of the craptastic summer movie slate, here’s some stuff to look forward to.  To view these previews and more, click here.

1. The Social Network

The first teaser trailer, just audio clips, pixels and large fonts, was intriguing.  The full preview that played before Inception on the other hand was enthralling.  It moved from a social indictment of our modern online society to a thrilling corporate espionage flick filled with excellent potential both from the plot as well as the stellar cast.  I simply cannot wait till it his theaters at the beginning of November… A

2. A Film Unfinished

As many know, propaganda, both printed and filmic, and especially that which was created by the Nazis, fascinates me.  So here comes a documentary that brings to light the forgotten film created specifically to “show” life in the Jewish ghetto.  I have major hopes for this being more than the standard Holocaust piece, thanks to the inclusion of interviews with the actual filmmakers who constructed these false narratives and their claim to have no concept of what the work was being used for.  In a word, fascinating… A

3. Buried

Oh my god does this teaser make me uncomfortable by making me realize one of my greatest fears in life.  I will not explain more other than to say watch it, and be thankful you’re watching it in the comfort of your own home as opposed to on a massive theater screen where my heart pretty much wanted to stop… A

4. Louis

A true silent film, complete with Chaplin-esque hilarity?  Set to live music of New Orleans Jazz as played by Wynton Marsalis?  Designed to look at bit too much like the failed Outkast musical Idlewild, this touring event seems too good to be true, if only for attempting something different with both film and performance combined, much like last years intriguing Brand Upon the Brain.  I’m already looking for my tickets to the NYC screening at the Apollo Theater…A-

5. Rango

An odd little Wild West animated bit with a mariachi band of owls is decently hilarious, looking like something out of a backwards children’s book.  And of course, with Johnny Depp lending his voice to the title character, one can only be hopeful for something interesting to result.  The fact that the same people behind Pirates of the Caribbean direct it?  Well, that inspires some hope and maybe just a bit more trepidation… B+

6. Devil

Probably one of the better previews for a movie that I have minor interest in seeing, thanks to the well shot upside-down cityscapes that, when seen on the big screen, are crazily disorienting.  The rest of the preview is fairly standard freak out material of people stuck in an elevator where bad things are happening.  Hopefully this piece from the brain of M. Night Shyamalan will prove more interesting than the past couple things his mind has so unfortunately given us… B

7. Waiting for Superman

Most of my excitement for this film is to answer a big question as to the talent of Davis Guggenheim to craft a documentary after An Inconvenient Truth.  The preview itself is thought provoking, mostly through amazing and tragic statistics. Stringing together bits of kids getting into better schools through a true lottery system is a horrifying cliffhanger.  Extra points for the excellent use of Green Day’s “American Idiot”… B

8. Eat Pray Love

I might like this trailer only because of the song choice.  Scored to the breaking through Florence + The Machine track “Dog Days Are Over,” this preview reminds us all of the desire to run away to find ourselves, to travel to exotic places with reckless abandon in the hopes of eternal truth, all the things that we simply can’t do in our day to day working lives.  So, much like the book, it’s a fantasy, and much like the preview, I start most of my days listening to “Dog Days” as a wakeup call to the rest of my life… B-

9. Tron: Legacy

There are two things about this preview that make me almost like it.  The first is that it’s Tron!  I have a very lovely and strong memory of the original and all the joy that it brought with visuals that seemed impossible then.  The second is awesome special effects that seem to actually honor the original cult artistry.  The problem is, I’m not seeing much else beyond that.  What little bit of story we’re given seems so hopelessly hokey that I fear I wont be able to sit through it… C

10. The Town

This preview committed the cardinal sin of previews by making me feel like I’ve already seen the entire film. I was fascinated enough by Gone Baby Gone to think that Ben Affleck might actually be able to pull together an interesting tale.  And this one is filled with intriguing actors like Jon Hamm, Jeremy Renner and Blake Lively as a hooker.  But I’m pretty sure all the major twists have been exposed to the point that I’m not sure what else a two-hour viewing could really offer.  Too bad… F

1. MOVIE Despicable Me

This is one strange film, especially for kids.  I could quickly rip this apart as second rate Pixar (it borrows heavily from Monsters Inc.) but I found myself thoroughly entertained by Steve Carell’s adept villain with a heart portrayal, the adorable three moppets that change his life and more than anything, his yellow minions which I’m sure will be the lasting legacy of this film.  The whole thing strikes a weirdly zany tone, irreverent but intelligent.  I can’t imagine children really sinking their teeth into this one, but I did and happily… B+

2. MOVIE Monsters Inc.

With all this computer animation I couldn’t help myself from going back to this forgotten classic.  While not as loved as Toy Story or as profound as The Incredibles, this film has more heart than either of them by turning our world on its head, making the monsters lovable and the children the mysterious and dangerous creature from another world.  Rarely has a film about understanding differences been so elegantly told, with a light and humorous touch courtesy of the vocal agility of Billy Crystal (a revelation much like Robin Williams as the Genie).  And like all good things Pixar, I was indeed misting up by the end… A

3. OLD TV The X-Files – Pilot

I don’t think I realized how long ago this show started.  Everyone looked so young and the fashion sense, well, was senseless (seriously, Gillian Anderson was swamped in those shoulder padded lengthy suit coats).  But I was happy to remember that even at the beginning, this show was a well-honed piece about the unexplainable, every bit as dark and fascinating as I remember it.  Thank you Netflix for having all seasons ready for instant viewing so I can happily walk down memory lane, when shows and characters held up over lengthy runs… A

4. FOOD Fig & Olive

Restaurant Week has descended upon NYC yet again, making overpriced eateries nearly reasonable.  This oversized meatpacking district restaurant serves up delicious enough food.  For summer, the zucchini salad, lightly dressed in tart lemon, starts the meal nicely, but the better choice is definitely the steak tartare.  The entrees were a little less lustrous, a decent penne with black truffle oil or a well-seasoned fish fit the bill just fine.  But it was the pot de crème for dessert that really did the trick.  At the end of the night, this meal was all about the fantastic people I shared it with, which is the heart of any good dining experience… B-

5. SHORT Becoming

Click here to watch a sumptuous and elegiac film that gorgeously combines dance into the natural world.  Unlike so much filmed choreography, this was shot and directed to make use of the visual medium, playing with timing and editing to heighten the sensation as much as it relies on the fascinating visual.  A stunning piece… A-

6. PREVIEW Never Let Me Go

The preview for this film opens heralding that the book it is based on is one of the best of the century… my interest was piqued and I thought, I must run out and read this book immediately.  Well folks, I’ve actually already read the book, and it is fantastic.  And this dark, heavily British preview makes me think that the movie might just do some justice to the haunting prose of Kazuo Ishiguro.  I’m fairly assured I’ll be disappointed in the end, like most adaptations of great books, but the preview captured the haunting yet hopeful narrative style, so fingers crossed… A-

7. ALBUM New Ways to Butcher English Tenderhooks

This rocking album from ’08 is a fascinating combination of male and female vocals (although the male vocal isn’t all that far from a female’s).  The music flows from style to style seamlessly, never resting in any one genre, but pulling heavily from the short-lived Rockfords with a composition style more akin to Crowded House.  It’s an excellent listen, which makes me bemoan the fact that this band is no longer in existence.  They could have definitely gone somewhere… B+

8. SHORT Harvie Krumpet

Short and dark, this Australian stop motion flick narrated by Geoffrey Rush charts the sad life of a retarded migrant obsessed with the random facts he’s able to retain over the course of his existence.  The piece never really amounts to anything, just a series of vignettes, quirkily animated and described, only finding emotional resonance at the end when Harvie finally embraces what his sad life has to offer.  Was hoping for a lot more from this one… C

9. SONG “Levi Johnston’s Blues” by Ben Folds & Nick Hornby

This bass lined jam is straight out of the usual from Ben Folds, evolving into an odd piano rock flecked with strings.  There’s a lot of Elton John in there, but also bits and pieces that remind me of Sondre Lerche’s latest excellent album.  Which is all to say that I’m extremely excited for this wacky collaboration between the piano master and the fantastic wit of Hornby, one of my favorite modern authors… A-

10. ALBUM Symphonicities Sting

Taking a page from Peter Gabriel’s latest, the amazing orchestra filled covers album Scratch My Back, Sting takes his own music and backs up his solid vocal with overblown dramatic symphonic takes of his greatest hits.  Most of the time it sounds too similar to the original and thus unnecessary.  When he takes the orchestral sound to greater heights, it overpowers both him and the song, clearly heard on “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” and “The End of the Game.”  I know this guy has more to offer, this just isn’t it… C+

1. MOVIE The Kids Are Alright

This wasn’t quite the saving grace of summer film that I was hoping for.  Even as counter programming, I wasn’t completely smitten.  The performances are undoubtedly excellent, especially from the always-luminous Annette Bening.  But like Lisa Cholodenko’s earlier work, the story meanders a bit too much, missing much of the heart of the matter through her episodic narrative.  All that said, I still found myself crying at the end of the film, thanks to a shattering speech from Julianne Moore and an affecting performance from Mia Wasikowska.  Ultimately it’s a beautiful work about families of all shapes and sizes… B+

2. MOVIE Toy Story 3

There’s a part of me that wanted to leave these characters in my memory of them over ten years ago, as they completely transformed the nature of filmmaking.  But after spending another couple hours with them, I was beyond fulfilled.  And, like so many others who have sat through the film, I couldn’t help but get chocked up as these toys went full circle in their existence.  It’s a beautiful film, despite my desire for something fresher coming from Pixar’s expansive creative brains… A-

3. ALBUM We Are Born Sia

Infectious and delightful, this album is a fantastic listen from track one to track twelve (I can do without the Madonna cover on track 13).  This is an artistic force to be reckoned with, infectious and enchanting with music that makes you want to move and moves you at the same time.  She even incorporated a child-singing-chorus that doesn’t frustrate, a near miracle.  Her semi-ballads like “Be Good To Me” and “I’m In Here” overwhelm the soul sonically.  It’s an excellent and must-have album, much like her previous work… A+

4. FOOD Meatball Shop

There are not superlatives enough to describe the mouth-watering deliciousness that is being served at this lower east side establishment.  You write your order on the menu itself, hand it over to your server and are served the most overwhelmingly flavorful meaty creations (ok, I might have been starving when I went to this place, so this review is tainted with my hunger).  Veal meatballs covered in provolone, sliders of meat and basil, there are endless combinations of yummy-ness.  And stick around for the make-your-own ice cream sandwich, it’s worth the extra calories… A

5. SPORTS Spain vs Netherlands

I certainly lost a bit of steam heading into the final match, without the US represented or any African nation either, it all seemed a little too foreign.  But I rallied behind my other homeland, Spain, as in the country I would live in, if I didn’t live in NYC.  And I was pretty bored for a good hour or so until we finally scored a very clean and beautiful goal.  It was an odd game, with Spain constantly at the goal and unable to sink a shot.  And don’t even get me started on that judo kick to the check from the Netherlands.  How is that not a red card?  B

6. TV Mad Men Season 3

It took all season, but finally something happened.  I’ve tired a bit of longing stares and deep seated feelings expressed from emotionless but beautiful people as their cigarettes slowly burn down and the ice in their glass slowly melts.  But by the end of the final episode, I was so engrossed in the future of these people that I realized the strength of the creation and the connection to these cold characters.  It’s a well crafted and gorgeously shot work that I’m quite glad I’ve watched in as few sittings as possible.  We’ll see how I do watching live for the first time this upcoming fourth season… B

7. TV Kathy Griffin, Life on the D List

I was so excited for this show to come back on for the summer but honestly have been only semi-entertained.  It’s all pretty much the same spiel that it’s been from day one, but somehow my tolerance for it has waned.  Yes she’s funny and insightful at times, but the fame whoring seems all the less original now that she is actually famous and treated as such.   And enough with the cameos, other famous people are even less interesting than Kathy.  I’m still holding out hope for this season, but I’m not sure how long I’ll last… B-

8. ALBUM The Adventures of Bobby Ray B.O.B.

I love and hate this album.  These twelve tracks float between well-written and catchy songs, in the realms of Kid Cudi and Janelle Monae (who guests), and the most obnoxious attempt at radio friendly tracks.  There is no doubt that B.O.B. has an amazing career ahead of him, as is evidenced in his current radio presence, I just wish he’d taken a page from Monae in exploring multiple genres by making them his own.  Too often, it just sounds like someone who has come before him, clearly evidenced on the bad Finley Quaye sound-a-like “Lovelier Than You.”  I’m very much looking forward to the next phase of this young talent… B-

9. ALBUM High Violet The National

This album finally gets closer to my favorite song of theirs, “So Far Around the Bend.”  It’s a great mix of tracks, deep voiced and pulsing, melancholy and bright all at the same time.  The album is paced awkwardly, but individual tracks, like the symphonic “Little Faith,” stand out as amazing songwriting and producing.  Take a listen to “Afraid of Everyone” and the awesome “Runaway” and you’ll be sold… A

10. ALBUM Night Work Scissor Sisters

It’s another fun mix of dance tunes that play nice and easy but somehow don’t stick in my head.  The piano heavy “Fire With Fire” has an excellent Queen-quality to it, somewhere between a ballad and a Mika track.  This album definitely pushes into some new and enjoyable territory, combining Elton John’s songwriting with the best of the ‘80s back beats, but somehow it can’t quite grab me.  Worth a couple of listens… B