Broadway Baby: The 2013 Tony Awards Opening Number -“Bigger” is Best

If we’re lucky homo sapiens, every few years a splendid anomaly occurs in the usually vapid space-time continuum of television awards shows that negates the basic dreary tropes and widens eyes with something that is, if you’ll excuse the cliché, purely magical.

The last time we were borne witnesses to such a thrilling spectacle was on June 8th, way back in 2013, and it was the opening number of the 67th Annual Tony awards. Renaissance man – and future Tony winner – Neil Patrick Harris (he would win the following year for Hedwig and the Angry Inch), performed the original song “Bigger,” written by Tony Award winners Lin-Manuel Miranda (In The Heights) and Tom Kittening (Next To Normal), and choreographed by Tony/Emmy winner Rob Ashford, and the number remains, (in?)arguably, the greatest opening number in any awards show history. Starting off with an ode to the 2012s Best Musical, Once, while alluding to the smaller Beacon Theater, where the awards took place the prior two years, Harris slowly morphs from intricate Irish troubadour…

I can break your heart with a work of art.
And a song that’s quiet and small.
But we’re back where we began it all. Radio City Music Hall.

So tonight we might go bigger…

…to full-on song & dance Master of Ceremonies, with a razzle-dazzle, lollapalooza EIGHT minutes of pure Broadway heaven. Saturating the stage of Radio City, Harris not only pays tribute to that year’s nominees, he also jumps through Pippin‘s circus hoops, gets hoisted in the air as a flyer for the cast of Bring It On, then landing without a beat, and even performs a classic, still confounding magic trick, all while continuing singing Miranda and Kitt’s brilliant ode to the theater, breathlessly and exuberantly.

It’s exhilarating to behold, and despite the spectacle of it all, with all its grandiosity, never once does it feel scattered, or discombobulated – it is overwhelming in the most wonderful way, never inundating the senses yet always dazzling them. You just sit there, mouth agape, taking in the beauty and wonder of it all. It defines the true essence of “Bringing down the house.”

Anna Kendrick and Debra Messing are ALL of us!

There are so many great lyrics in “Bigger” that it’s worth repeat viewings just to not miss them. From, “And you could bounce a quarter off the ass of Billy Porter. Lord he does eight shows a week in eight inch heels!” (Kinky Boots would go on to win 6 Tonys that night, including one for Porter) to “Hats off to Berry Gordy. He runs Motown like a boss. He dominates Top Forty and he banged Diana Ross!” (Gordy produced and wrote Motown: The Musical which ran that season, and was up for numerous awards) to poking fun of the ersatz movie version of Les Miserables (“Can I have my Tom Hooper ‘Les Miz’ closeup please? See, on Broadway we don’t need extreme closeups to prove we’re singing live. We sing live eight shows a week. Check it!”). Even Kathy Lee Gifford gets a lighthearted jab: “Mamma Mia, Lion King, The Jersey Boys are tappin’, Kathie Lee’s a Broadway lyricist so anything can happen!” (Gifford wrote the books and lyrics for Scandalous: The Life and Trials of Aimee Semple McPherson, which ran briefly that season to some surprisingly favorable reviews.)

But it’s not all comedy. By the time Harris sing/raps…

There’s a kid in the middle of nowhere,
Who’s sitting there living for Tony Performances,
Singing and flipping along with the Pippins
And Wickeds and Kinkys, Matildas, and Mormanses.
So we might reassure that kid,
And do something to spur that kid,
‘cause I promise you,
All of us up here tonight,

We WERE that kid!

…we are all already screaming, or crying, or both.

“Bigger” nears it’s finale by filling up the aisles and stage of Radio City’s with countless Broadway gypsies, singers and dancers from nearly every show running that season. And when this miraculous extravaganza reaches its climax, not only does Radio City’s audience roar with a thunderous, beatific ovation lasting more than 60 seconds (a lifetime for a live TV awards show), but we at home are doing the same, emotionally drained, exhausted and intoxicated.

When Audra McDonald and Zachary Quinto walked out on stage to present the first award, Quinto wisely says to the still recuperating audience, and to a smiling, agreeing McDonald, “That’s the definition of a tough act to follow!”

Indeed, Mr. Quinto. And to paraphrase Harris’s womanizing sitcom character Barney Stinson, “This Tony performance is legen…wait for it…DARY!”

Idiot Box: HBOs Chernobyl was Great TV

Chernobyl, HBOs latest limited series, was this years most riveting, and harrowing, drama. It is also one of the most horrifying things I’ve ever witnessed. It captures the hideousness in fascinating, gruesome detail, and the absolute catastrophic aftermath of the accident, in the Ukraine and on the earth herself, both physically and mentally (the astonishing makeup in episode 3 resulted in loud audible gasps, and left Rob and me shaking in horror).

It was brilliantly directed by Johan Renck (an in-demand music video director, who recently directed the late, great David Bowie’s final two gorgeous videos, “Lazarus,” and “Blackstar”), and the cast – which includes the always excellent Jared Harris (marvelous more recently in AMCs supernatural/horror miniseries “The Terror”), the always reliable Stellan Skarsgard, and the great Emily Watson – were all superb. The art direction and cinematography are spectacular (it is visually stunning, both beautiful and grotesque).

And it aired just in time for the eligibility for this year’s Emmy Awards, for which, one would surmise, it will be heaped with plenty of nominations.

See it now to understand the Emmy hype about to come.

Official Trailer for HBOs great “Chernobyl”

Music Box: Happy Birthday, Stevie Nicks & The Wild Heart

Once in a million years a lady like her…rises…

Happy Birthday to the Rock Goddess, and the indisputable Queen of Rock N Roll, Stevie Nicks!

To commemorate that, plus the upcoming 36th anniversary of the release of The Wild Heart, released on June 10, 1983, here is a rarely-seen “Liner Notes” interview Stevie did way back in September of that year. This interview aired only two weeks after I saw her astounding shows at Radio City Music Hall. Those pre-internet days of concert going was always an adventure; I trekked into the city overnight, and waited in line with a few dozen other Stevie fanatics, at Radio City’s box office. It was summer, it was warm, it was the 1980s so the area was mostly desolate at 3am. But when the box office opened I purchased three tickets for both nights. I went with my friend, Spike, the first night on September 12th, and I went solo the following night. It was an incredible show, the highlight being her transcendent live version of “Beauty And The Beast,” my favorite track off The Wild Heart, which reduced me to a puddle of tears both evenings.

In this interview, Stevie was promoting that recently released, now classic album (it was released on June 10th), and she discusses the beginning of her musical journey with Lindsey Buckingham, her duality of being a member of Fleetwood Mac and her successful solo career, her great new solo band, Prince (whom she collaborated with on “Stand Back”), and of course, the album itselft and her devotion to her fans.

And after all these decades, we are still devoted to our Queen.

Music Box: Madame Zzz

Madonna – Medellin & I Rise

Staunch defender of her previous two releases (MDNA and Rebel Heart), I am supremely underwhelmed with the two songs released from Madame X, Madonna’s upcoming new album. The saturation of autotune aside, both tracks lay flat, delivering none of the Madonna mastery I’m used to: songcraft.

“Medellin” is breezy enough, but really a piffle – cute as cafe background noise, forgettable once it’s over (and dueting with the grotesque, misogynistic hack Meluma doesn’t help).

“I Rise” should have been bold and anthemic, but instead is musically chintzy, with neither memorable hook nor melody. And that she wrote it as a rallying cry for marginalized people and as a way to commemorate the 50th Anniversary of Stonewall, the genesis of the Pride movement, makes it all the more frustrating that it’s not the clarion call the Queen of the Gays (as I like to call her) could have delivered. It doesn’t soar – it just floats, lazily along, until it doesn’t.

But, I won’t let any of this deter me. Madam X was influenced by Madonna living in Lisbon, Portugal, according to the press release, and celebrates her love affair with Latin music and culture and global influences. That alone intrigues me. I won’t let my distaste for these two tracks dictate my anticipation for the full album, which drops June 14th.

Reel Life: Oscar Screener Roundup

I’m not writing full reviews, or writing about, every Oscar Screener I’ve seen. Just some notes I’ve jotted down after watching these particular films. Better writers and critics have better blogs and reviews than I’ll ever muster up the time for.

Roma is a rhapsody, really. A haunting beauty of an experience. It is both tone poem and homage, a tribute to Alfonso Cuaron’s childhood in Mexico.

It is personal and intimate, expansive and epic, gorgeously shot in a brilliant monochrome that is as much at the heart of the film as Mexico itself, and as the understated simplicity of its performances. (And in her first film role, Yalitza Aparicio is a revelation. That she’s not a contender during this award season is a mystery.)


Some have criticized the film for its inertia (which is ridiculous, as it is swathed with life) and for not having any real climax but, for me, it doesn’t need one. Life is beauty, life is heartbreak, life is resilience. Life is…simply life. The morning will come; it has no choice.

My grade: A

That sound you hear? That’s me eating my hat.

A few years ago, while watching the worst season of AHS (which still holds true today. I know – tough decision!) I said:

“Watch Lady Gaga lumber along in a comatose, hooker-in-headlights daze, every Wednesday, only on FX! Her “acting” makes Madonna’s look like Meryl Streep. (I only invoke Madge’s name because she’s possibly the worst pop singer-turned-actress in the history of cinema.)”

Well, I’ll be damned! Do I stand corrected! Well, not “corrected” – I steadfastly abide by my words about her and AHS. But, behold, she was fantastic in A Star Is Born giving a natural performance that went beyond pop-melodrama – it was authentic, and she navigated the complexities of the character beautifully. And, Bradley Cooper was another revelation. I realized he can act only after watching Silver Linings Playbook, and with each succeeding role, he proved his talent, even if the film in question was subpar. This, though, was his greatest role yet – raw, passionate, internal, tumultuous and empathetic.

And, more importantly, their chemistry was palpable – you believed in their romance, their passion, their tears, their battles, their redemption, their love songs – Cooper and Gaga ignited the screen.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. Even with the near-universal critical acclaim, I certainly was not expecting Oscar-calibre performances, a dynamite soundtrack, or one of the years most electric films.

PS – I know it probably won’t happen, but I hope Cooper wins the Best Actor Oscar.

My grade: A-

Listen, Glenn Close never deserved any Oscar she was nominated for. (That’s not a dig at her; there have been plenty of past winners who DO have one who shouldn’t.) So, it would be easy to dismiss her probable win for The Wife as a “career” award – often given to living legends with longevity, but who have been overlooked by the Academy, despite multiple previous nods (this is Close’s 7th nomination). But that would be the most erroneous of dismissals, because her victory will be for what clearly is the most meticulous, nuanced and gorgeous performance of her already illustrious career.

This is a portrait of intimacy of a decades-long marriage – Close portrays Joan Castleman, a long-suffering wife who has spent decades sacrificing her dreams to support the literary career of her husband, Joe (the dynamic Jonathan Pryce). The film’s mightiest strength is in Close’s quietness; behind her eyes is the festering resentment, self-doubt, complacency, blind faithfulness, and self-effacement.

The film itself is melodramatic and pedantic, but Close – mysterious and slowly brimming, until the flashbacks revealing the storm behind the front detonate in truth and redemption – is masterful. (A genius stroke, too, was to have Close’s real daughter – Annie Stark – portray her character’s younger self in those flashbacks.)

My grade: B (upped a notch for Close)

Green Book is comfort food for the simplistic at heart. It’s a messy, full-fledged Hollywood White Savior Film – pure Oscar Bait – a bizarro Driving Miss Daisy wherein a racist Italian mook from the Bronx named Tony ‘Lip’ Vallelonga is hired by Dr. Don Shirley – a brilliant, black, gay classical/jazz pianist – as a driver, to accompany him across the Jim Crow south in the 60s for a series of high-profile concerts, and winds up rescuing Shirley in a series of racist attacks, verbal, physical and institutional. (All that was missing was a red cape and a big “L” on Lip’s chest.)

It’s all so cloying and calculating and glosses over its obvious issues in bland self-congratulations, yet I would be lying if I didn’t say it was also enjoyable, for what it was. Mahershala Ali, on the way to another Oscar, it seems, was fine as Shirley – is Ali ever less than good? – but Viggo Mortensen steals the show as Lip. Sure, you can guffaw at his exaggerated accent, his histrionic facial contortions and his amplified hand gestures, but I applaud his audacity.

My grade: B-

Legacy: RIP James Ingram

Buttered Soul Pop is how I once described his emotional, sweet, passionate baritone voice…and now it – one of my favorite vocalists – is silenced at 66.

Rest peacefully, James Ingram.

Here he is in 1981 on “Soul Train” singing one of his (many) signature songs (and one of my eternal favorites), “Just Once.” Yes, it’s lip-synced (all Soul Train performances were), but no less magical.

James Ingram performs Just Once on Soul Train, 1982

Reel Life: Bohemian Rhapsody – Radio Ca Ca

Bohemian Rhapsody is another one of those anomalies where a perfectly awful film gets saved by an incredible performance (much like last year’s Three Billboards and Frances McDormand) – the remarkable Rami Malek never falls into the trap of mimicry, which would be easy to do in lesser hands, considering Freddie Mercury’s larger-than-the-universe persona, rather he manifests the spirit and soul, and more importantly the swagger – he disappears inside the role. If he wins the Oscar for Best Actor, for which I am sure he will be nominated, I can’t hold it against the Academy – he is that good.

Unfortunately, the film itself was akin to watching a bloated, two-plus hour VH1 Behind The Music episode, only factually abhorrent – and speciously determined to diabolize Mercury’s sexuality, instead of celebrating it.

Along with that inexcusable aberration, the script is pedestrian at best, written like a High School student writing a book report on his favorite singer; there’s no complexity, and it’s dependent on all the cliches and tropes of a typical Hollywood biopic. Also, it’s sloppily directed, which is no wonder; before he was fired, Bryan Singer (two of the most dreadful words in filmdom) has left his hack-marks splattered all over the screen.

The film’s other saving grace is the Live AID recreation. Historically inaccurate and CGI-laden though it is, it still thrills mostly because of Malek’s joyful embodiment of Mercury (despite that the quick cuts to the audience and hometown bars – and more particularly, backstage viewers, smiling and nodding along, with Mary Austin clutching her chest in awe and wonder – was the ultimate in cringe-inducing). In actuality, though, you really should just YouTube the actual full, exhilarating and legendary Queen performance.

Mercury – one of the great, dynamic and talented Rock front men in history – deserves a biopic worthy of his life, his talent and his true sexuality. Bohemian Rhapsody was made for rabid Queen fans longing to see their Rock God on the big screen, no matter the cost of authenticity. Or craft.

My grade: C+ (upped a notch for Malek)

Legacy: Jerry Orbach – We’ll Always Remember

Jerry Orbach photo courtesy Masterworks Broadway

Of course we all loved him as Lennie Briscoe on Law & Order, a role he played for 12 years before succumbing to prostate cancer. But many of us, who are old enough, have loved Jerry Orbach for years prior, whether as a leading song-and-dance man on Broadway (he originated the role of Billy Flynn in Chicago, and his Tony-winning role as Chuck Baxter in Promises, Promises), as a great character actor (amongst my favorites was as Jack Rosenthal, a gangster who’s hired by his brother-in-law to get rid of his mistress, in the 2nd best Woody Allen movie, Crimes & Misdemeanors), and of course as the unforgettable voice of Lumiere, the candelabrum, in my favorite Disney musical, Beauty & The Beast). A few of many, many others.

One of his earliest roles was, in 1960, as El Gallo, the narrator/bandit from the classic musical, The Fantastiks. And from that show came this gorgeous song. I’ll never tire of watching Orbach on TV or in the movies. And I’ll never tire of hearing him sing one of my very favorite songs, “Try To Remember” (performed here in 1982 on the TV special Night of 100 Stars).

Orbach was taken away from us (#FuckCancer) on this December 28, in 2004.

“Deep in December, our hearts should remember…then follow…”

We’ll always remember, Jerry~

Legacy: George Michael – The Grave

Remembering him on the second anniversary of George Michael’s too-early death, here’s his haunting version of Don McLean’s “The Grave.” Originally released on McLean’s 1971 landmark album, American Pie, Michael recorded the song in February 2003, as a protest to the imminent invasion of Iraq. McLean wrote it as a Vietnam protest song.

After hearing Michael’s version, McLean, on his official website, praised not only George’s recording, but his reasons for recording it.

I am proud of George Michael for standing up for life and sanity. I am delighted that he chose a song of mine to express these feelings. We must remember that the Wizard is really a cowardly old man hiding behind a curtain with a loud microphone. It takes courage and a song to pull the curtain open and expose him.
Good Luck George-

Don McLean, March 1, 2003

On the day that George died, McLean, via his Facebook page, wrote a loving tribute.

I never met George Michael but I wish I had. I would have thanked him for the beautiful performance of my song “The Grave” which he did to protest the invasion of Iraq and the disastrous war which he knew would follow and still continues. The authorities had everybody cowered in the shadows as we hoped for a ’60s style protest which never materialized. George Michael was fearless and had a great artist’s need to speak the truth even in cowardly times. We should remember what he did. I always will.

We all loved George and his death still stings. And hearing his ethereal vocal on this cover is a painful reminder of the scope of talent we lost.

Long live George ~ 1963-2016

Viacom Dios, My Darlings

How does one leave a job after years and years – whether by choice, victim of circumstance, company restructuring or – as was my department’s case – outsourcing to Poland – and not break down into tears? Especially when parting from coworkers who became my friends and my extended family?

Easy answer – one doesn’t.

A week ago today, October 31st, my 17-year tenure at Viacom/Mtv Networks came to an end. We were given the end date back in May, and there was an optional one month extension, which I took. But that didn’t halt the tsunami of tears.

To fully encapsulate my tenure here would require an eternal scroll, replete with superlatives and hosannas, expletives and diatribes, but most importantly, endlessly joyful memories.

It’s been quite the ride.

Picture it…Times Square, July 2001. No street performers begging for a photo, no street dancers clogging the walkways, no expanded sidewalks to accommodate even more tourists to frustrate your every movement. Toys-R-Us and Virgin Megastore are bustling with multitudes of shoppers; TRL is still clogging the streets between 44th and 45th with throngs of teenagers (and more than one adult coworker) eager to see their favorite boy band or pop princess. Social media is still in the future (remember Friendster? A year away. MySpace? Two.). CDs are selling by the multimillions, while people just started learning to share/steal music via Napster and Kazaa . iTunes Media is still fresh, the iTunes store a few years away, and the first iPod will be introduced in a few months. People don’t walk down the streets in a perpetual glaze, glaring at their phones. Premium concert tickets are an “astronomical” $150, you don’t have to mortgage your home to see a Broadway musical, “Law & Order: SVU” is only two years old, and “Survivor” begets the pollution of Reality TV to our airwaves. Fascism is not an accepted American way of life, and Reality TV clowns don’t become treasonous, traitorous presidents.

I was working at the now-defunct Sony Music Studios for six or so years, and when my friend and co-worker was co-opted by Mtv to run its own internal dubbing/editing facility (the dearly departed E.R., as it was called) in April, she brought along few of her favorite dependable coworkers over the period of the next few months. Weeks before 9/11 changed the world, I was one of them. (Now, only a scant few are left, a small part of MTVs ever-fluctuating history.)

Life was altered with that career change, and for the better. I finally was employed at a job that offered vacation days, sick days, and holidays! That alone was foreign to me. And I learned the intricacies of the TV and media business and received an unparalleled education without ever going to college.

And I worked with those aforementioned coworkers who became my friends and my extended family.

The one true beauty of this almost two decade sojourn – what I was, and am, most grateful for upon my evanescence from the corridors of MTV Networks – are those coworkers…those lifelong friends I’ve loved and love, and the memories we will always share – the laughing during the most jubilant of times, the weeping through the saddest; the steadfast belief in teamwork and the importance of camaraderie. I was – and will remain – proud to watch them succeed and thrive, honored to be there when they married, as their children grew up, and humbled living through each fragment of their lives, while we all, as a family, navigated through the pleasures and the pains, the loves and the heartaches, the frustrations and triumphs, the unfortunate lows and the indisputable highs.

So, after all those many years, last week I walked through those revolving doors of 1515 Broadway that have spun millions of rotations…one last time. Into the indefinite, into the frightening unknown; fraught with the hesitation of the mysterious and uncertainty, but enticed and excited at the possibility of reinvention and reinvigoration.

And…I will miss it all. I will miss you all. Indubitably.

Goodbye baby…
I hope your heart’s not broken
Don’t forget me…
Yes I was outspoken
You were with me all the time…
And I’ll be with you one day…
~ Stevie Nicks “The Tower/Goodbye Baby”

PS: How wonderful we live in the age of social media, though. For every ill that pervades Facebook, Instagram, etc there is an equal, or greater, saturation of love – knowing we are all just a mouse click, or a phone-screen tap, away. I know it doesn’t diminish the sadness of the leaving, but it’s the next best thing.

And I leave with the knowledge that…we are forever. To quote E.T., “I’ll be right here…”