London’s “Girl from the North Country”: A Fine Time Despite the Nonsense
As I’ve said hundreds of times, I love going into shows cold, not knowing any spoilers, not knowing the words to all the music yet, just a blank slate ready to be won over. But I may have gone overboard this week because not only did I know nothing about London’s new play “The Girl from North Country”, I knew wrong information. I thought this was about farming life in Ireland. Cue all the laughing-crying emojis because it’s about MINNESOTA. Duluth, specifically. I guess that is easily confused with Dublin? Regardless of my hysterical laughing when the show started and I heard them say ‘Duluth, Minnesota’ (internalized laughing, of course), and despite the awkwardness of this disjointed, rickety show, it’s a nice piece of theatre, enjoyable in spite of itself.
There are two patent examples of large, bad decisions that aren’t compelling. One is the completely annoyingly unnecessary framing device of the narrator. One actor, who plays the town doctor, also narrates the story and gives a lot of details to the audience that we don’t need. Using this needless device shows a lack of faith in the story to present what the author is aiming for. And never once did the narrator’s monologues share anything worthwhile to the story or anything that would not have been better left to the imagination. The play is pretty decent as is, but this device, borne out of a lack of confidence, distracts from the parts of quality.
The second example is the reason why I haven’t used the word ‘musical’ yet, even though everyone else (and the Oliviers) calls this production a musical. To me, it is the very epitome of a play with music, not a musical, because the music does not drive the story-telling. Instead of having the characters sing to each other to further the plot, a play with music uses the songs for their own sake unrelated to the plot, like in “Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill” when Billie Holiday was simply performing at a concert. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing to choose, not at all, but the use of the chosen music seems haphazard. The music should still be well considered and there for a reason, and if the characters in the show are singing, the songs chosen should somewhat reflect on them enough to make sense. Here, the songs sometimes make sense, but often don’t. The one thing I knew going in was that this show uses the music of Bob Dylan. So every so often, the characters will sing a Bob Dylan song, and it will have nothing to do with the plot, but the problem was they often didn’t make sense for the characters or for what the show was ostensibly trying to achieve. I’ll point to specific examples later.
Aside from these missteps (huge as they are), the show is decent, inoffensive and overall pleasant. It tells the story of the Laine family in Duluth, headed by the stern, imposing Nick (Ciaran Hinds (I know)), whose wife Elizabeth (Shirley Henderson) is suffering from a form of dementia that keeps her alternating between having no idea what is going on to having zero filter on her speech and actions. Their son, Gene (Sam Reid), has amounted to nothing and is a piece of a nothing shithead, we see because of how he treats a black man, but I honestly think the writer wants us to feel bad for him for some reason, which um no. Their daughter, Marianne, is a black woman (Sheila Atim) that was left in their inn as a baby, so they decided to raise her as their own. There’s a whole other show to be made just about this relationship and how their town reacted to it, but we strangely don’t get much in the way of racial unease, which is odd because it for sure would have created some. I wonder if the writer wanted us to think highly of all the characters for not calling attention to this, but it just seems unrealistic. I mean come on it’s Minnesota in the 1930s. Or, it’s America at any time. People would have torches.
Marianne is pregnant, and single – she won’t tell anyone who the father is. At one point, she tells someone that she was impregnated by the ghost of the wind of Jesus or something weird like that and I have no idea what they were going for with that. It seemed meant to add a mystical element, but such an element had no business in a straightforward show like this. An old man in town, Mr. Perry (Karl Johnson), has offered to marry Marianne and raise the baby, which seems like a nice offer but he’s super ancient and Marianne is like nah thanks. Unfortunately, her father has no patience for her idealistic decision-making, wanting to marry someone she actually loves and all. Elizabeth, in one of her unfiltered episodes, shares that Mr. Perry once assaulted her when she was young (he’s hella old so he was an older man even when she was young) and no one seems to care, which is the most realistic part of this show. I love that Elizabeth, in all her raw, crude honesty, is often the only voice of reason in the community.
Soon two men arrive to spend the night, a man presenting himself as a reverend but he is really a slimy Bible salesman (Finbar Lynch (I mean can we talk about that name? that’s the real name of the actor. Man alive)), and a former boxer named Joe Scott. Joe for my performance was played by the understudy Emmanuel Kojo, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled because Kojo is one of the West End names I actually remember from several past productions, so lucky me. The men join existing guests Mrs. Neilsen (Debbie Kurup), a hot widow who is sleeping with Nick and maybe loves him even though he’s old and wrinkly and mean; and the Burke family, an older married couple with a grown but developmentally disabled son, Elias (Jack Shalloo). The Burkes have an interesting but ultimately unfulfilled storyline about how the grown son may have killed a woman unintentionally, and how they may be fleeing from the authorities. It sounds a lot worse than it is. Not the crime, the crime is bad, but how this fit into the show. It was random and nuts but it kind of all worked, because we’re learning about all the sad stories of those involved.
And then we have the town doctor (Adam James) who should have remained a doctor instead of moonlighting as a narrator.
The first act is actually quite well done. The chosen Bob Dylan songs, although they don’t really inform the story or characters, seem at least a little bit relevant. And if not, at least the choices are mediocre and not aggressively bad. The twangy Dylan sound of the less famous songs worked with this setting. It helps that I didn’t know 90% of the songs, so for a while everything seemed suitable and interesting. The second act, however, falls apart. They perform songs back to back (to back, I think) apropos of nothing, and you can feel the thing falling off the rails and see that the songs are the desperate attempt to keep it moving. Then, the character of Joe Scott, a really interesting, well performed and mysteriously drawn character, is done a huge disservice by having to sing “Hurricane”. This is not a song that jives well with the small, rural action of the play, a huge contrast to the other songs used, so it is seriously shoehorned in to make it fit, and it was a bad idea. Like I said, Joe is a former boxer, which seemed acceptable in the first act, but having him sing “Hurricane” made me think, wait, did they make up his backstory in order to fit this song? It’s hard to believe otherwise when the writing reveals him to have committed a robbery and be on the run from authorities. This is where they really lost me. Forcing this song into the show and molding the story around it felt so amateur and for all the damage it does to the story, the payoff is exactly nil.
After that, the action seems to happen without compelling reason shoring it up. Truly dramatic things occur, and rarely do they feel earned or warranted. Marianne’s character is poorly drawn, for such a central character, and her decision to leave town without saying goodbye to her family feels unjustified. It’s hinted at (more than hinted at) that Nick might resort to a little murder-suicide and just, like, what? And don’t get me started on the ambiguity of what actually happens to Elias (who has the second best musical performance of the night, but it is very ill-suited to the story).
What keeps the show largely afloat are the performances. Not all – most of the ensemble was obviously focusing on their American accents to the detriment of their acting. This was especially clear in the case of the poor sad Mrs. Neilsen, whose ‘I just came from my elocution class’-style of speaking was inappropriate for this setting. “Oh I will MEETUH you OUTUH-SIDUH,” she said once. She was the female equivalent of Gary Oldman when he guested on “Friends”, spitting all his t’s and popping all his p’s. Then we had other ladies giving full-on Fargo-style accents, dontcha know, because North Dakota is pretty much Minnesota, yah fer sure, so the clash was blatant and upsetting. Why don’t West End shows all have dialect coaches?? But the leading performances by Ciaran Hinds and Shirley Henderson are the compelling parts of this show and what makes it worth seeing. Ciaran, whose name I literally just found out yesterday is not pronounced as written (I’m sorry), as the gruff, well-meaning but wrong-headed patriarch Nick Laine, is so natural and believable. The tinge of his Irish accent works really well actually to convey mid-West America, and even though his character is wrong so often, he’s such an incredible actor that he makes you want to understand why.
The real star turn here is that of Shirley Henderson as Elizabeth Laine. At first, she just kind of sits in her chair and makes faces at the goings-on, and I was thinking ‘she got an Olivier nomination for this?’ However, slowly but surely her performance grows and builds so much that I would honestly think about voting for her over the “Follies” ladies. (Don’t get me started on the fourth nom.) I didn’t know at first that Shirley was that Shirley, the one I know best as Bridget Jones’s brunette friend and as Moaning Myrtle in Harry Potter. Yeah, her. She’s fantastic. Her portrayal of a woman with dementia is so honest and uncomfortable and you have fremdschamen watching the whole time and you want to look away because it’s so painful, funny at times but painful, but you can’t because what she is doing is extraordinary. It’s mostly a physical role, peppered by line deliveries that could not be more perfect. She takes these words and chews them up and spits them out at such perfect moments with timing and venom that could be deadly. And then when she breaks into song, my goodness, I had no idea this lady could sing. She has the strongest voice in the whole production (and gets to do most of “Like a Rolling Stone”) and why hasn’t she been in more musical theatre? She could have single-handedly been saving British musical theatre! (Okay they still need someone besides Tim Minchin who can write scores but still.) Her performance is remarkable, how she does so much with so little and makes you invested in this story for her sake.
So clearly there are a lot of things wrong with this show, but in spite of all of that, it’s still enjoyable and a little bit moving, which I think is a testament to the performances, and also the writing. If this play could have been just a play, forgetting the weird Bob Dylan constraints, and if Conor had someone reigning him in and editing this draft, it could have been excellent. As it stands, it’s just fine, but entertaining.
AUDIENCE
Oh the joy – this was one of the best audiences I’ve witnessed in London. I didn’t see ANY phones during the show – and I was sitting in the way way back of the stalls, which usually means all you see is phones. There was a super old lady singing along sometimes and slapping her knees to the music and I shot her death stares but she was so old that that was probably dangerous. The girl next to me was coughing literally the entire first act so I moved for the second so that was fine. Honestly, most of the bad behavior came from the ushers I heard talking in the back and the back of house staff I could hear through the doors! Nonsense! Cameron Mackintosh better get his people under control.
STAGE DOOR
There were only like one or two weirdos there so I didn’t want to stay too long and also be a weirdo. The cast seemed super uninterested in talking to anyone anyway so best to skip this one.
Update: The show, with a new cast, will return to the West End from December 10, 2019 for 8 weeks.
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The first “Bad Moms” was hilarious and fun, so I was excited to see the sequel. Man alive was this a piece of shit. I don’t know whose idea it was to make our three main protagonist moms have mothers closest to the Allison Janney-type, but that did not pay off in any way. It’s one thing to portray complicated relationships that are worth working through and strengthening (like in “Lady Bird”). It’s another to just be a complete shit of a person who doesn’t deserve nice people in her life, and to use these awful examples of mothers who shouldn’t have children to try to say that, what, you should always love and cherish your family, even if they are toxic? That’s dangerous bullshit that no one should ever listen to. If someone in your life is destroying you, cut them out, no matter who it is. Christine Baranski as Mila Kunis’s mom was verbally abusive and beyond dismissive of her daughter, and Mila should have cut her from her life. It wasn’t funny, and there was no reason for Mila’s character to suffer through all of that just because it’s her mother. Also, Peter Gallagher as a soft ball-less skinbag of a man should have left her ages ago instead of sitting back quietly and letting her destroy nice people. I guess ever since Jody Sawyer told him ‘sorry not sorry but I don’t need you to teach me ballet’, he’s had no sense of self. Next we have Susan Sarandon, Horrible Ignorant American, as the mother of Kathryn Hahn, American Treasure. This piece of work abandoned her kid long ago and only comes back when she needs money, like now, or when she wants to spout really asinine political theories like how Jill Stein was not a Russian plant meant to divert support from a great lady we never deserved. Cut her off, Kathryn. Lastly, we have Cheryl Hines as Kristen Bell’s mother, a legit crazy woman with no boundaries who buys the house next door to her daughter without telling her, copies her haircut to look just like her, and watches her have sex and TAKES NOTES. This woman is a terrifying monster who puts the likes of Single White Female to shame, and Kristen should have run far away from her. When the two of them go to therapy and Wanda Sykes says that it’s Kristen’s fault because her mom may have been normal before she had her (I can’t), I was so enraged I shot up out of my seat, threw a cup of water at the screen, and tried to leave the room so I could violently slam the door to express my fury at such an irresponsible, dangerous take on this situation. Unfortunately I was watching on an airplane, so I could not complete that mission. I could turn it off though, so yay for me. I want to meet whoever wrote this movie, especially that therapy scene, and slap him in the face. And you know it’s a ‘him’, because he does not understand shit.
Sure you might be saying ‘but it’s sort of a biopic of Billie Jean and she had to discover her true sexuality at some point’, and that’s true and well and good, but this movie wasn’t called “The Billie Jean King Story”; it was called “Battle of the Sexes” because it was specifically about the historic match of that name against Bobby Riggs, male chauvinist asswagon. (I combined asshole (or asshat! both good choices!) and jackwagon.) I understand that Billie’s struggle with hiding her sexuality threw her off kilter leading up to the match, but like, that’s all the movie was about. That and Steve Carell prancing about in costumes to prove that men are better (at wearing costumes?) and for some reason Elizabeth Shue as his long-suffering wife decides not to light him on fire like I/Frances McDormand would have done and instead puts up with him for no good reason other than probably a lifetime of gaslighting.
If the makers wanted to solely explore Billie’s sex life, with the affair of choice (with her hairdresser!) occurring while she was still married, and the effect it had on her game and her mindset (really the same thing), then they could have done that (even though that’s like kind of weird to be so fixated on, give the lady some peace.) But to pretend that this film was primarily about the Bobby Riggs match is just bad faith. Honestly it felt like the male writer and the rest of the men responsible for this wanted to see Emma Stone kiss other girls and they just came up with a thin frame to work that into. They watched Emma’s old movies for inspiration and when they got to “Birdman” they thought a) what the fuck is this and b) hey that other girl in it, Andrea Riseborough, makes out with Naomi Watts in one scene so let’s hire her to make out with Emma in our movie! The best, most thrilling part of this movie was the very, very quick shots of the actual match at the end, and I realized that what would have made this movie better is more of that, and then you realize that you are better off simply watching the actual, real match full stop. I have yet to see a tennis movie where the time spent watching it would not have been better spent watching real tennis. In the inevitable Roger Federer biopic, I hope we see mostly his amazing skills and no bedroom scenes with Mirka, but honestly, this movie shows that we’re better off just watching recordings of his old matches.
Kumail and his wife, Emily Gordon, pretty heavily spoil the movie they wrote about their love story by being married. They tell the story of how they met when Kumail was a fledging comedian, how they had a good time for a while, and how they broke up because Kumail’s family was weird about him marrying a Pakistani girl and he was weird about keeping a box of their photos. But if I met Vella Lovell in real life I would keep her picture in a weird creepy box too, just saying. They break up and it’s sad but life goes on OR NOT because Emily falls into a coma and the doctors have no idea what’s going on and it’s terrifying because she’s so young and Zoe and you’re like omg is she going to die? And Kumail stays by her bedside the entire time and that’s incredibly sweet and moving but also kinda awkward because she dumped you. Her parents arrive, played by Ray Romano and Holly Hunter in I’m going to say career bests. Their performances should have been nominated for all the awards because they are pitch perfect and they so perfectly play off each other so maybe the Oscars should have a Best Couple category like the MTV Awards or whoever does that, Kids Choice? and add them in last minute. They flawlessly capture the complexities of parents dealing with this trauma while also dealing with their own marital problems.
As our unobtrusive hero who holds fast to his convictions about this girl he loves, Kumail quietly shines and wins your heart. Even though his standup in the movie is objectively painful, you really want him to get everything he wants, even a standup special. This is a horrible movie to watch on a plane, which I did once, because we landed with 20 seconds to go in the movie. You would think that a movie’s plot couldn’t hinge on the last 20 seconds, right? Usually it’s just like a wide shot of a field or a sunrise or something and everything that has happened before is the whole story, nothing can change. But the very last shot of this movie is very important and turns the whole thing from good but sad to omg let’s throw a celebratory fiesta. Luckily I had seen it before but I feel bad for anyone who just assumed ‘wow that was sad I didn’t see the last few seconds but what could have happened? Sad movie.’ And it was sad but oh my god was it beautiful and then all of a sudden not so sad. I remember when Cameron Crowe won an award for “Jerry Maguire” (I think it was this matchup but I could be wrong) and he was like ‘thank goodness I won because if I didn’t it would mean you didn’t like my life’ and I’m like first of all that’s not what that means, but second if that were a thing, this movie should definitely win something because it’s actually their life story, you were not a sports agent who married the mother of the cutest little boy in existence until my nephew showed up, Cameron.
Shia Labeouf was g-d perfect casting as John McEnroe, two entitled, volatile brats who don’t realize how annoying they are (don’t get me wrong I love me some Johnny Mac nowadays as a commentator but he’s still kind of a d-bag and back in his day, man alive, was he the worst. Stop YELLING, White Man! your days are numbered). He gave the young John a bit of humanity (in his quieter moments) and actually made you feel for him and you REALLY didn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him. But the real star was Sverrir Gudnason (I honestly thought it was a Skarsgard) as Bjorn Borg, a dead-ringer for the tennis great and incredible in this role. He was so believable and so effective at portraying the volcano of emotion and rage simmering below Bjorn’s surface of robotic calm. To use the flashbacks to show that the two players had more in common – particularly their anger and explosive natures – than anyone would ever predict, was a smart way to frame the movie in the buildup to their huge Wimbledon match. Not knowing how it ended in real life really helps with getting into the drama and the stakes of this match – Borg’s trying to make history with an epic fifth consecutive win, Johnny’s trying to prove himself as more than a shithead miscreant, especially to the Brits who despised him (they love manners). And I didn’t remember who won this one! I know Borg had a shittonne of Wimbles…es but I didn’t remember if he got to five in a row, and I knew Johnny won Wimbles several times but I wasn’t sure when, so I was really into this movie. Again, it would have been better to watch the real match in full, but for a movie version of it, this wasn’t half bad. I learned a lot about the two players and how they came to be tennis champions, and most importantly there was a Skarsgard in it (Stellan, as Borg’s coach/father figure) which you expect in a Scandinavian movie, so all was well.
So Gary Oldman is completely unrecognizable in a fat suit and a whole lot of Mrs. Doubtfire-esque chin jowls to play Churchill, one of the most revered and important men in British history. We see him right as he is asked to become Prime Minister when Britain is at war both with the Nazis and with itself, not having a government with a strong will in terms of direction and gumption. So British of them am I right? All his fellow politicians were like ‘hmmm we could do x or y but I don’t want to be too forward oh pish posh can’t be too forward.’ Winston came in like a wreeeeeeecking baaaaaall and was like shut up and listen to me, I know what we have to do, we gotta go kill us some Nazis. Maybe he didn’t say it like that but honestly thank god for him (the him that is portrayed in the movie, who knows how accurate it was (I mean I’m sure many people do know how accurate it was, that’s what history and records are for but shh do I look like Suetonius)) because while all the other pale scrawny men with upset tummies were like ‘let’s negotiate with Hitler to save our people!’, Churchill was like ‘are you f-ing kidding me, you do not negotiate with a terrorist and also why would we trust him to hold to the terms and also HE IS LITERALLY HITLER’. He’s shown as the only British politician with the courage to fight rather than capitulate to the scary mustache baby. I hope that the speeches he gives once he finds his nerve to stand up to the fellow cabinetters who want to negotiate and then hide are accurate, because they were spellbinding. In a time when we are suffering with actually evil politicians who are not only being outsmarted by children but are literally working with Nazis, it was a little tearjerky and a little heartbreaking to remember that once upon a time a leader of a major nation was not only unwilling to work with Nazis, he wasn’t one.
I freaking loved this movie and wanted it to win all kinds of awards just because it’s so hilarious and would be so hilarious to do so, but Franco had to go be a Hollywood man and ignore the rights of women and only care about his own desires and go ruin everything for everyone.
But this was a gloriously perfect movie, a hysterical takedown of “The Room”, the famous worst movie of all time, and it’s creator, the famously insane Tommy Wiseau. Knowing “The Room” makes this behind-the-scenes look at it even sweeter, but it’s not necessary to enjoy the genius ridiculousness. James Franco gets all of Tommy’s mannerisms down, but more importantly he gets his voice down, with the impossible-to-place accent and usually-impossible-to-understand inflections. Anytime James verbalized anything even a little, the audience was rolling in their seats. It’s really a testament to Franco’s talent, begrudgingly as I admit that, that even just a random word here or there produced some of the funniest moments of the year, all because of his delivery and his really strong direction. (He directed it too.) It’s kind of mean but kind of loving in its treatment of Wiseau and the entire infamous shitshow of a shoot. The cast and crew are littered with familiar faces, and it’s not even worth it to try to name them all because it would go on forever. But let’s try a few – there’s Sharon Stone, Melanie Griffiths, Megan Mullally, Seth Rogen (as one of the funniest characters; his short scene in the bank was amazing), Adam Scott, Judd Apatow as a hilarious fictionalized version of a producer like himself, and my fave, Jason Mantzoukas. Oh and Bryan Cranston as himself. This movie is RIDICULOUS and crazy and somehow it all came together perfectly. James Franco really knows what he is doing outside the bedroom. The water bottle scene was one of the best comedic takes in forever.
If you haven’t seen it yet, I recommend it wholeheartedly and suggest that you watch “The Room” after, not before, as many say to do. Watching “The Room” first, you may get more of the jokes and references in “The Disaster Artist”, but watching it after will be so much more rewarding because you’ve seen the making of it, or at least ‘a’ making of it, and you will appreciate the nonsense in it even more.
I’m sure their creators want the films to stand on their own merit, and they do, but this is a great companion piece to “Darkest Hour”, and both are improved by watching them together. In “Darkest Hour”, Churchill confers with his cabinet about the problem at Dunkirk – all the abandoned men, no good way to save them – and we see just a bit of what happens. Here, it’s like you paused “Darkest Hour” and hit the ‘Tell me more!’ button on your audioguide in a museum or something, and got more of the story of this important moment in the war. I love how perfectly the two British tales of WWII connect and how they strengthen each other by giving detail on one hand and context on the other. Christopher Nolan did a nice job of marrying the harrowing aspects with the inspiring parts of the story, to avoid the soul-crushing depression that war movies usually produce while forestalling the risk of being too hopeful. It is war, after all.
“Get Out”, from comedic mastermind Jordan Peele, is not funny as you’d expect from him, but it is freaking brilliant. I knew going in that it was supposedly genius about race, but with it being a horror movie, I just expected that maybe racists were gonna be murdered. It’s not that at all. Okay, racists do get murdered and that’s nice but there’s so much more to it than that. “Get Out” is the story of a black guy named Chris (Daniel Kaluuya, who is fantastic and so believable and omg the stillface crying amazing) who goes with his white girlfriend (Alison Williams) to her family’s, like, compound in the woods (already a red flag, man) to meet her parents. Alright, that sounds…fine? Chris’s best friend, whose real-life name is Lil Rey so that’s what we are going to call him because why would you ever rename that, is like dude don’t ever go to meet a white girl’s fam, that shit’s gonna be bad. And Chris is like calm down and go back to violating air travelers’ basic constitutional rights, it’ll be fine. Lil Rey was right though, because immediately things are weird. Alison’s parents, Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener in like the most g-d perfect casting ever, are that sort of outwardly nice but creepy and uncomfortable in the way you can’t really call out without sounding like a douche. At first, I mean; later you can say why very clearly. They say things like how they would have voted for Obama a third time to obviously try to show that they are so cool with black people but it really shows how wrong they get it. Her brother, played by Caleb Landry Jones who is just all over the Oscar map this year (he’s the ad guy who gets thrown out the window in “Three Billboards”), is terrifyingly unhinged and prime for a fight even though he is a weak-looking white boy. He has that totally unstable, deranged look of a psychopath in his eyes from the start, and you think oh this guy is the scary racist one but nope everyone is. There are two black servants in the house/compound, and Chris tries to reach out to them and find some common ground, but something is seriously off with them. They have fake smiles and don’t seem to be capable of basic honest interactions. Something is off, like their minds are under external control.
Alison claims to have forgotten that her grandfather is having a huge let’s-have-all-our-rich-white-out-of-touch-friends-over party that same weekend, so Chris has to deal with a barrage of odd, racist-but-not-enough-to-call-out comments on his physical appearance and his relationship and everything. These scenes so perfectly call out white liberals who think that if they aren’t wearing a Klan hood, they can’t possibly be racist. But it’s clear that the white people find black people to be other. Things get extra creepy when Catherine Keener hypnotizes Chris, ostensibly to quit smoking but she breaks him down to his rawest emotional core to do so. Then, at the party, there is one other black man, a man we met in the terrifying opening scene of the movie, seemingly unrelated to the plot we’ve seen so far. It’s a man that Chris knew was missing from Brooklyn a few months back, and now finds him married to an old white lady and is acting, well, different, like a stuffy old rich white man living in the woods might act. Chris is freaked out and calls Lil Rey and Lil Rey is like ahh get out of there (that’s why it’s called that). When Chris finds a pile of photos of Alison (yes Chris is the only character’s name I’m using does it matter?) and other black boyfriends, and one of her with the maid, he knows something sinister is going on. He tries to leave and the family – including Alison, the one he thought was on his side – blocks him from leaving and you think ohhh shit, here we go. Catherine’s previous hypnotism means that as soon as she makes a certain sound again, Chris passes out, and he wakes up locked in the basement. Shit got real, real fast.
You could never guess the revelations to come, and as out-there as they are (I mean who besides Joey Tribbiani believes in brain transplants?), everything is done with such a keen eye towards a deeper meaning that it doesn’t even matter how sci-fi things are; you buy into this world Peele has created and everything adds up in it. Of course the big scary secret is full-on bodily takeover through intricate medical procedures. Of course this rich white family has made their fortune through the subjugation of black people, and of course they don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. One of the best moments is the montage-y, wordless bit where Chris and Alison are off talking about how creepy everyone is, while Bradley supposedly takes the guests to play Bingo. But it’s clear they aren’t playing Bingo; they are holding up Bingo cards in what seems to be an auction, with a portrait of Chris at the front. There’s no getting around what they are bidding on, as if they have the right to buy and sell black people just because they are white, and the too-accurate similarity to a slave auction is undeniable. And while they are buying the men for slightly different reasons, the mindset allowing for this still comes from the same place, of the sort of racism that tells them they have the right to do this by virtue of their skin color.
Every second of this movie, and every bit of acting, informs the overall story so well that it requires repeated viewings to catch everything. The servants you thought were merely brainwashed and/or scary are more complex than that, and their initial impressions do more than you gave credit for. I honestly did not predict that Alison was going to be part of the scheme, and her physical transformation from cute and fun to terrifyingly sinister is really well done (she looks like Sharon Stone in “Basic Instinct” afterwards). The initially friendly manners of the family aren’t simply a cover for their true evil, they also mirror how people in real life think that if they act nice, that means they can’t be racist, that they are good people, even if they are actively taking your rights away, even though Sondheim taught us long ago that nice and good aren’t the same thing. I couldn’t really sleep after I watched this movie because I was so terrified of Bradley Whitford but more than that I was shook, as a white person and as a person living in a society that pretty much the same as the one depicted, albeit minus a few steps in medicine. And that’s the point of the movie, isn’t it? It’s horrifying but in a smart way, to make viewers really consider what they are watching and more importantly what they are a part of in real life.
As I’m sure you do, I remember vividly the lead-up to the 1994 Lillehammer Winter Olympics, when Nancy Kerrigan was attacked. Everyone remembers the news channels, newly reveling in their ability to broadcast bullshit across the airwaves 24/7, playing over and over and over her screaming “Whyyyyyyy!!!” It was so sad. Somehow, “I, Tonya” makes that clip of her screaming funny. It’s not – it’s horrifying – but the movie’s lead up to it is so funny and well done that the audience laughed at her screaming. Now that’s super dark. Anyway, we all remember how Tonya Harding became a name that will live in infamy, as she was widely suspected to have known about the attack that her bodyguard set up. This movie pretends to be based on interviews with Tonya and her husband and is similar to an older documentary about the subject. Despite the docu-style content, it is still made very clear that we still do not know and never will know the truth about what happened – both to Nancy and to Tonya throughout her life. Every player tells a different version of events, and one of the most genius parts, and most frustrating, is that they remind us that we really will never know the truth, because I don’t know about you but I don’t exactly trust Tonya Harding hundo p at her word, and you definitely don’t trust her mother or husband. Tonya becomes the most sympathetic character in a room full of horrible people.
Margot Robbie as Tonya took me by surprise. I never gave her credit for her acting ability, considering her past roles have usually focused on her just being pretty. But she makes a sensational Tonya, if a little too pretty. She’s angry and rough and strong at times and weak at times and it’s so fully developed. It’s an incredible performance and this whole Tonya Harding redemption thing that’s going on, which is weird because she may be a criminal who attacked a friend and competitor, is happening because her performance makes you really want Tonya the character to succeed and get treated better and that blurs the lines between her and the real-life version. The other sensational performance in this movie is Allison Janney as her mother LaVona, a black-hearted witch if there ever was one. This kind of role is so much fun for the actor, who can completely let go of everything and wallow in being pure evil but kind of funny. Allison is always great, and here she is so incredibly wicked it’s riveting, if terrifying.
A lot of Tonya’s life, as depicted, is terrifying. Her father abandons her early on, and she never stood a chance alone with her cruel, abusive mother, who beats her almost as much as her first boyfriend and then husband Jeff does. Luckily, through all of that turmoil, she was able to skate, and she had something special that fancy coaches saw. Unfortunately, the hoity toity judges in figure skating never gave her a fair shake, because they wanted their leading skaters to represent the sport with class – meaning, they hated Tonya because she wasn’t very pretty, or petite, or rich, or otherwise fancy-looking. She was told to get a fur coat so the sport would acknowledge her presence, so she, being dirt poor, made one from animals she hunted. (Vegan note: Close your eyes when she is a little girl and hunting with her dad.) Worst of all, she became the best at one point, always landing her jumps with athletic prowess, always skating her heart out, but because her hand-sewn costumes didn’t look nice, and because her power wasn’t as girly and delicate and innocuous as they wanted, the judges across the sport kept her from taking her place at the top. That is, until they couldn’t deny her any longer – when she became the first woman in the world to land a triple axel in competition. No one else even had the balls to attempt one, and she was out there landing them with aplomb. For that brief, shining moment leading up to her first Olympics, she was the best and had a world of good prospects.
But her f-ing husband was a piece of shit, and his repeated beatings messed with her mind so much that it kept her from doing her best. If she tried to get away from him, her mother would pick up the slack. In present-day interviews, older and wiser Tonya (a truly horrid Margot, in really impressive latex and makeup, just great job all around) would recount all the trauma and trouble she encountered and repeatedly add in that x and y weren’t her fault. And they weren’t, but after a few more instances you realize that she doesn’t accept credit for anything that happened in her life. Nothing was her fault, and maybe most of it wasn’t, most of it was awful people being awful to her, but in avoiding any responsibility she also avoided doing anything to improve her unfair situation.
And that’s what this movie does so well. Amid all the brilliant skating (I love figure skating so all the actual routines they showed (with Margot and two trained doubles) I adored) and all the competitiveness was a look at the everyday human condition, the introspective look at what makes some people able to ascend their upbringings or get past their hardships and what makes them stuck there. And despite being really depressing, seeing how unfair everything in her life was, it was also hilarious. A lot of this was from her beyond-bumbling bodyguard Shawn, a true idiot if there ever was one, who bungled everything he put his giant greasy hands on. No matter what we know or don’t know about Tonya and Jeff’s role in the attack, we know Shawn was the ‘mastermind’, and he is portrayed so hysterically as just a giant sack of stupid. I loved when they included his prime time TV interview, in which he said he was an international counter-terrorism expert, and the news anchor was like ‘…no you’re not.’ Tonya’s husband, Jeff, was a different kind of idiot, a sleazy, less obvious idiot but an idiot nonetheless. That these brainless boobs tried to get away with a crime of any sort, let alone a high-profile one related to the Olympics, is mind-boggling. And as for Tonya herself, the movie creates a host of contrasting emotions and I guess that’s what the point is. Whereas everyone was taught to simply hate her at one point, the movie makes you feel bad for her, feel sorry for her upbringing, feel angry that she was treated so terribly by every single person in her life (except the nice lady coach), and of course feel conflicted that maybe she knew more than she said she did. I really never would have guessed that a movie about Tonya Harding would be incredibly enjoyable, funny, and moving.
“Lady Bird” follows the life of Christine McPherson, a Sacramento teenager who gives the impression of finding herself too cool for her town, too cool for her Catholic high school (I mean who isn’t), and too cool for her family and friends. She believes wholeheartedly that if she could just get to New York, for college, then she would find and be a part of the real life she wants and knows to exist there. It’s so common, that feeling that teens have that real life is happening somewhere else, and they just have to get there to be a part of it, and then when they go they realize that everywhere is pretty much the same and this ideal of ‘real life’ is up to you to create, regardless of location. But until that realization, people like her resent everything and everyone around them for not being the far-off dream. The meticulous writing exposes her relationships so efficiently, you understand where everyone stands in an instant. For example, in the first scene. Christine (Saoirse Ronan, amazing and omg her accent is perfect can you please teach all the British actors on the West End doing American parts), who wants to be called Lady Bird because of course she does, is in the car with her mom (Laurie Metcalf, a total bitch but soooo good in this) crying at the end of the audiobook of “The Grapes of Wrath”. When it finishes, Lady Bird goes to put the radio on, and her mom stops her and asks to just sit with what they just heard for a minute (which I SO GET). This pisses Lady Bird off and in the quickest of moments they go from nice bonding moment to all-out fighting and it’s the most believable interaction. You see it coming and you can tell that neither can stop it from happening but there it goes. So precise and flawless.
The cast of characters in school with Lady Bird are just as impeccably depicted. There’s Ladybird’s sweet, overweight best friend Julie (Beanie Feldstein, my FAVORITE, absolutely amazing in “Hello, Dolly” on Broadway with Bette Midler and now in this movie??? GO BEANS GIT IT), sweet and lovable and the perfect kind of friend for Lady Bird, aspiring popular girl, to drop by the wayside when cooler prospects call for it. There’s Lucas Hedges, more than making up for being in the most overrated movie of the 2010s, “Manchester by the Omg I’m asleep so fast”, as Danny, a charming and respectful boy who is great in the school musicals which must mean he’s hiding something. The scene in which he and Lady Bird finally confront each other over his secretly being gay is one of the most moving and remarkable on both actors’ parts. Lucas is heartbreaking in his abject fear of what will happen to him (he goes to a Catholic school remember jfc), and Saoirse goes from cold and angry with him to supportive and compassionate in a split second when she realizes his fear is more important than her being disappointed in a high school relationship. This scene was utter perfection. I mean everything was perfection but this scene will stick with me. I also loved the depiction of Timothee Chalamet’s douchey Kyle (this cast tho), because Greta’s writing nails that kind of white privileged pretty boy who has no idea of anything in the world. “Oh I don’t believe in money; I try to barter where I can” and Lady Bird’s like “our private school costs money and you are rich you dingus” well she doesn’t call him a dingus, I added that, because she’s still swooning over his face even though he is suuuch a douuuche. It’s so ACCURATE. And there’s Odeya Rush as popular pretty Jenna, who isn’t nearly all that and a bag of chips but Lady Bird really really wants to be her friend because that’s how teenage girls think.
The essential, poignant relationships are of course those of Lady Bird and her parents. Laurie Metcalf so quickly defines her character with precise bounds, you understand how a teenage girl would react to and try to break them. You clearly see why they each act the way they do, and how their clashing personalities can’t prevent every looming conflict, and while Laurie’s character kind of sucks a lot, you still can understand why she is so harsh (sometimes) and that it (sometimes) comes from a place of love. She is so clearly afraid for what her not-so-hard-working daughter’s life will hold once she is out of the safety of high school, and although she doesn’t prod her daughter in the most positive ways, you see that she just wants the best for her. Her strictness is driven by the fear that her daughter won’t amount to anything once she leaves home. She simultaneously wants Lady Bird to work harder to achieve more and lessen her expectations regarding what the real world holds for her. Getting much less acclaim, though no less deserving of it, is Tracy Letts, my main man, as her father. Can I just say, it is SO NICE to see this incredible actor and one of our best living playwrights as a decent, kind man instead of a jackass like his character on “Homeland”, or, as I first saw him, as the hideous psychological tormenter in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” He also writes really disturbing work, like “August: Osage County” so yay for giving him a job that just let him be nice and supportive of his family instead of trying to destroy it.
The real stars are of course Saoirse and Greta (kind of sounds like Hansel and Gretl right), creating absolute perfection, one with her vision and imagination, one with her interpretation. I can’t remember a movie that was about a female protagonist that felt so real and lived in. It’s nice to get one. I can’t wait to watch this over and over.
In this very nice to look at film, Kenneth plays Hercule Poirot, famous detective, doing a ridiculous French accent because apparently no one in Kenneth’s life ever tells him no. He’s in like Istanbul or something and he solves a crime that gets a police man in trouble, so that’s a great start, but then it’s confusing and you’re like okay somehow he’s on a fancy train, not sure why or how considering the crime he needs to solve on the train didn’t happen yet, whatever. Then you see this incredibly fancy train and you’re like what the actual fuck because what trains really look like that, where are the flooding toilets of recycled water and the Uzbek men taking off their shirts and the babies running around naked and screaming at you in Chinese and the heat, my god the heat? Fancy people know how to travel. And you see Johnny Depp flirt with Michelle Pfeiffer and Josh Gad in a silly mustache and Leslie Odom, Jr. NOT singing and also in a silly mustache and you see Penelope Cruz and you are like what the actual fuck are you doing in this movie and then there’s a Jedi and then there’s Judi Dench and by this point you’re like no this is too much nonsense. How do so many good actors produce so horrendous acting? Is that a result of poor direction or the camera speed where everything looks like the news? So much potential but so poorly managed, and I don’t know whether to blame Kenneth or just recognize that this story is best told in book form. Maybe both maybe both.
“The Shape of Water” (whatever container it’s in? heyoooo) tells the story of Eliza, a kind little woman who is mute and has only her older gay neighbor Giles (Richard Jenkins, always so good) to spend time with outside of work. She works as a cleaning lady in a government research facility, where her only friend there is the always hilarious Octavia Spencer as Zelda, talking enough for the both of them. Soon the two Michaels enter the scene: Michael Stuhlbarg, a govvie scientist (named Dr. Robert Hoffstetler, which I’m sharing because I think my high school English teacher was named Robert Hostetler it’s close it’s close) , is helping examine a new ‘asset’ in the lab, a man-sized sea creature that will help them fight the Russians…somehow…; and Michael Shannon, always terrifying, is the Colonel in charge of the operation who really just wants to bash the thing open and examine it that way, and also wants to take all the joy out of the world. Zelda and Eliza are tasked with cleaning the lab where the creature’s giant tank is located and FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON they are often LEFT THERE UNMONITORED. I mean really, of all the crazy shit that happens in this movie, what with a sea creature not only EXISTING but being able to fall in love with humans and cure their baldness, THIS was the most unbelievable part. There’s no way in hell that a government lab would ever leave an alien type life form unattended, especially with civilians in there with him/it.
But let’s suspend that little touch of disbelief for now because we’ve already accepted this world where the creature exists anyway. At the beginning, you’re like, is this going to be some really weird Beauty and the Beast situation where we’re supposed to be okay with bestiality? But after a little while you’re like eh what’s the harm, and you stop holding onto your doubt and your scruples because this world onscreen is so gloriously considered that it doesn’t really matter what you personally think. And all the thoughts I had early on like looking around and saying ‘um this is weird, guys’ to the ghost of Guillermo in the theatre with me quickly vanished and I was just like ‘alright I’m buying into this.’ Even my initial annoyance that Sally Hawkins had to be completely naked in the beginning went away the next time she was naked (she was naked a lot) and I just totally bought that she had to be naked a lot. Guillermo is a wizard.
So Eliza, although she has two whole friends, is still pretty lonely, and she slowly starts to befriend the sea creature, whom we will refer to, because I’m tired of typing sea creature, as…Baby Fish Mouth. She feels bad for it because mean old Michael Shannon keeps beating and electrocuting it into submission because he is another great example of fragile white masculinity in a man who needs to oppress those in positions of lesser privilege than him in order to continue feeling like he has a hold on his undeserved power. He really hurts Baby Fish Mouth okay that’s not going to work either, okay he’s like a mermaid, well a merman, right so let’s call himmmm Ethel Merman oh my goddddd this is my best work. Omg they should have called Eliza ‘Ethel’ because they he could be Ethel’s Merman. Okay so Eliza is very sweet and like one of those rare decent humans who feels empathy for others in pain and shockingly doesn’t want any being to suffer, so she starts sneaking in to the lab and giving Merman eggs to eat and teaching him signs for things. One of the main reasons she is drawn to his company is because he is like her in his silence and his communicating with signs, and she doesn’t really have anyone like that in her life, anyone who sees her for what she is and doesn’t judge her as lacking anything. It’s weird af I know but it’s really sweet when you break down the reasons for their connection. Over time (not as much as you’d think though; you’d think that a human would need a little more time to come around to the idea of taking a mermaid as a lover but here we are), their connection deepens, and when Eliza overhears the Colonel’s plan to kill Merman against the protestations of the guy who is actually a scientist (and a Russian spy, but that’s neither here nor there), she is initially devastated and then determined to save his life. With the help of Giles, and with the grudging consent of Zelda, Eliza undertakes to save the life of the man? thing? Merman she loves and keep him in her bathtub for just a bit until the rains allow the canal to open to the ocean. It all makes a lot of sense.
Because this world of the movie is so meticulously formed and so beautifully rendered, with every word and frame carefully considered, it manages to expertly handle so many things at once – the evil government operative with a great deal of power, the Russian spy who may still be a decent man who means well, adorable old Richard Jenkins trying to pick up a pie shop worker, the fact that Giles and Eliza live above a movie theatre, and of course the love story between a mute lady and a SEA MONSTER – without ever feeling like there’s too much going on or that something could have been cut. Everything feels necessary to tell the complete story, and it’s so well done. The revelation of what Eliza’s scars may have always been meant for was one of my favorite moments in movies this year, maybe ever. I was super stressed out the entire time watching this movie – there’s a lot to worry about – but at that moment, towards the end, there’s a feeling of resolution and it resolves everything that came before, like one complete perfect circle that you didn’t know was going to be a circle until that moment. It feels so natural, that it had to end like that, and even though this story is wacky af on paper, onscreen it’s beautiful and poignant.
Frances McDormand, who apparently only does amazing work, like has she ever ever done something that wasn’t incredible, plays Mildred Hayes, the grieving mother of Lucas Hedges (yet again; who is this kid’s agent) and a girl who has been abducted and murdered. She is furious, as one would be, that the local police department, run by Woody Harrelson and ‘helped’ by an inept Sam Rockwell, still hasn’t found the murderer or served any kind of justice, meaning that Frances isn’t being allowed to fully grieve. As such, she decides to take matters into her own hands, to try to get something done. She hires the three titular billboards to call out the police department – Woody’s chief in particular – and ask why nothing has been done. And although everyone in town kind of hates her for it, it does light a fire under their asses a bit, and spurs further investigation in a case that most of the people wanted to forget about.
Woody’s chief is actually a decent man, who understands where Mildred is coming from although he doesn’t like it. He’s also dying of cancer, which doesn’t seem like the moooost necessary plot point, but it does mean that the town hates her even more for being hard on him. I mean, she just wants him to do his job, but he is so beloved and it’s so sad that he’s suffering that she gets lots of death threats. Like she gives a shit. The sense that, although the two of them can’t really stand each other, they understand and maybe respect each other, is well established and it’s unfortunate that it’s so short-lived. One part that was really not well done, and sticks out like a sore thumb as just the weirdest part of the movie, is Woody’s last jaunt with his wife and the letter he writes her after. That letter is awkward as ass. No one would write that kind of stuff ever, let alone in a suicide note. I call bullshit.
There’s a lot that seems extraneous but it all works together to inform the story. Like Mildred’s abusive ex-husband who is now with a super young girl, making her life even harder than it already is. There’s Peter Dinkalge as a local who wants to date Mildred and so helps her out even though she’s mean to him. That’s not so necessary but ok. There’s the young guy working in the office that owns the billboards (Caleb Landry Jones) who is a dumb goof but means well. And then there’s the man who throws him out the window and causes a whole lot of trouble before he maybe starts doing some good, Sam Rockwell, as Officer Dixon, is a racist who enjoys beating up local black people for no reason, so we are told in dialogue but so it is not hard to believe because that is indeed what American cops enjoy doing. He’s a monster who thinks he is doing good, which is the worst kind of monster. Like when he beats the living hell out of Caleb, he thinks he is doing a nice thing by protecting his chief’s honor. He’s like an idiot helper dog, or a kid who dumps flour all over the floor and says “I’m helping”. He’s like an evil racist Ralph Wiggum, I guess.
Mildred becomes a sort of similar monster too, when she thinks she is doing good and has good intentions but decides to do things like set the police station on fire. When Dixon is revealed to be still in the station when it’s set alight, I really thought he was going to die; I did not realize how much time was left. The near-death experience helps him to sooooort of start acting like he’s not the worst person on the face of the earth, and he tries to actually solve the Hayes case. It’s a nice turnaround, but it’s effectively the redemption story of a horrible white male racist, which is not the story we really need. Yes racists should stop being terrible and should help people solve crimes or whatever, but when taken with the fact that all the black people in the movie are irrelevant to the plot, or that he never really faces consequences for his racism, it’s a bit much.
Putting aside the racial awkwardness, the film is a whole lot. I’m not sure of what, but it’s a lot. It’s moving sometimes, it’s harrowing, it’s hilarious sometimes – though not as much as the trailer would have you believe. Honestly, this had probably the best trailer I’ve ever seen, so masterfully done to make it seem like a really sensational dark comedy. But while parts were funny, it was a serious drama overall. Trailer lied. The movie is much more serious than the trailer gave it credit for, or admitted, but of course it is when you learn what really happened to the daughter. It’s disturbing and hard to agree with the perspective that Mildred is going too far off the rails when you think about what she’s dealing with. Yes she’s going nuts and neglecting her son and her sense of decency, but I’m sure it’s hard to remember what decency feels like at times like that. And although there is so much to grapple with, so much discomfort both in the story and the telling, I think that’s the point? Maybe? Regardless, Frances does such a tremendous job of carrying this film that the issues don’t terribly matter in the end, because it’s so exhilarating to watch her wreak havoc on everything around her with such mastery. The acting is what makes this movie great when the writing threatens to let it down. I feel like I really enjoyed this movie and thought it was great but the more I think about it the more conflicted I get so let’s just stop.
Your turn! Tell me your thoughts!
The 2015 Tony Awards: 50 or So Random Thoughts That Are Very Important
The Tonys are even more important to me than the Oscars. I know. It’s just so loving and wonderful aaand, while everything is still political (like dislike of Harvey Weinstein causing his show ‘Finding Neverland’ to be snubbed entirely), it’s not as disgustingly political, and most winners and nominees are still very deserving. Also, musical numbers happen throughout the Tonys, not like the Oscars where it’s just one at the beginning if Hugh or Neil are hosting. And people cry more. And it’s so good. And they shout about gay rights and womens rights and everyone’s progressive and awesome. And everything is beautiful at the ballet. I mean Tonys.
I hate those stupid mainstream publications’ recaps that focus on the ’10 Best and Worst Moments’ or some such brief and crappy stuff like that so I am sharing lots of moments that are worth discussing. 50 Odd Foot of Grunt as Russell Crowe would say. Without Hugh or Neil hosting this year, we didn’t get a great big musical opening, but hosts Kristin Chenoweth and Alan Cumming were adorable and pleasant. Despite their larger-than-life personalities, they presented a really low-key, almost casual ceremony this year, in a nice way. Let’s talk about what was good, bad, ugly, awesome, horrendous, and more. I’m doing this in chronological order because ‘Interstellar’ made me understand time on such a deeper level you guys.
The Best Camerawork:
When Alan Cumming began the show by singing ‘Willkommen’, his famous song from his famous role as the Emcee in ‘Cabaret’, a very wise cameraman cut to Joel Grey in the audience, who was the original Emcee on Broadway and in the movie. Best thing the crew did all night, maybe ever.
Second Best Harvey Weinstein Moment:
Kristin and Alan singing “Smile (though your heart is breaking)” to Harvey about how he shouldn’t be too upset his show got ridiculously snubbed because he can count his $1 million-plus weekly box office receipts was pretty funny. But ugh that whole political scene is nauseating. Harvey made some pretty terrible decisions on his first foray into Broadway and he made a lot of enemies in the community, but don’t take it out on the show, halfwits. The same thing happened with the Royal Shakespeare Company’s handling of the ‘Matilda’ transfer a few years ago, and people widely recognize that it was the RSC’s snootiness and terribleness that led to a slightly less deserving ‘Kinky Boots’ to win Best Musical. But, wait, for some reason I don’t feel that it was as wrong to take personal dislike for the RSC out on their show even though ‘Matilda’ is much better than ‘Finding Neverland’. Hm. Maybe it’s because Harvey Weinstein was nice to me when we met and the RSC has never even said hi to me.
Best Joke About Chenoweth’s Size:
When Kristin said that “acceptance speeches are endless…like my legs!” That was funny because she is so small. Do you get it? This was also the only necessary joke about her size.
Most Hilarious Performance:
How fantastic does ‘Something Rotten’ look? That’s #1 on my to-see list (from this season at least) for when I return to NYC. I am overjoyed at such an original musical being so successful and so wonderfully funny. I loved how their big number ‘A Musical’ alludes to so many classic musicals, like when they scrub floors for one split second and sing ‘it’s a mu-si-cal’ to the tune of ‘It’s a Hard-Knock Life’. So fun! I can’t wait.
Worst Missed Opportunity for Unrelated Banter:
Debra Messing and Anna Chlumsky presented together and were wearing almost the exact same dress: same shade of purple, same crisscross neckline. Erma P! But aside from looking at each other and like faux smiling as they walked to the mic, they didn’t even acknowledge it! What the hell, guys! That could have been good! And Anna Wintour was sitting front and center (more on that later) and they didn’t even cut to her skin burning off in fashion-charged anger.
Good Job Doing A Shitty Thing:
I am not a fan of musical nominees performing medleys – it makes it seem like they don’t have one good song or one good production number to show off. They are always disjointed, and instead of sharing a few good songs, as they intend to do, the truncated versions of those songs aren’t good enough to convey what they want. But ‘The King and I’ did a good job with theirs, probably because you can’t screw up that music. So good job. I’m also glad that it allowed for the brilliant Ruthie Ann Miles, whom I love mostly because she took a funny selfie with me, to share some of her amazing solo “Something Wonderful”. She sounded nervous, but that’s understandable, given that it was her first Tonys performance in a big dramatic solo, it was a newfangled medley arrangement, and she was nominated for her first award. But the best part was when the kids were jumping up and down screaming backstage as Kristin and Alan sent to commercial. Now that was adorable.
Best Host Sight Gag:
When they returned from commercial after ‘The King and I’ performance, Alan was dressed as Anna in her big purple evening gown, singing ‘Getting to Know You’, and Kristin in a bald cap dressed as the King crawled out from under his skirt. So freaking funny.
Best Presenting Team:
Bobby Cannavale and real-life love Rose Byrne presented some category I don’t even care what it was I just love them to bits even though the last time I remember him being at the Tonys Sutton Foster was thanking him because they were together. Oops. Anyway I still love them. Hate her dress though.
Kind of Disappointing But Still Great Win:
I like spreading the love around, so I’m kind of upset Christian Borle won his second Tony in a relatively short time frame last night. I really wanted would-be first-timers Brad Oscar or Andy Karl (who was predicted) to win, and either adoraboy from ‘An American in Paris’ would have been deserving as well. I haven’t seen ‘Something Rotten’ yet (cannot wait), but I’ve heard that Borle as Shakespeare is amazing and it was really deserved; I’m sure it was. I just wanted someone to cry. He didn’t even seem surprised, like not at all, totally hey what’s up I’m here she’s here we made it, nothing special. Even if you are Melen Mirren and you are totally a lock, I want you to act surprised when you win a Tony.
Second Most Emotional Win for a Blonde:
I screamed in delight when Annaleigh Ashford won for her ridiculously hilarious turn in ‘You Can’t Take It With You’. She really did win for the worst dancing ever seen on any stage. I am so happy for her! She is such a wonderful talent and I can’t wait to see what she does next. I hope it’s another comedic role because she is probably the funniest comedian on Broadway right now. She really deserved to win for ‘Kinky Boots’, so I’m so glad she won for another very deserving performance. Also, her natural comedic power led to a pretty great speech: “Thank you to every friend I’ve ever had, to every teacher I’ve ever had, and everybody I’ve ever met!” She was so happy and adorable I almost don’t even care that she had notes.
Most Wooden Presenter:
Misty Copeland should not be the next dancer to move to Broadway.
Most Jaw-Dropping Historic Achievement:
TONY YAZBECK MADE ANNA WINTOUR SMILE.
Shoddiest Camerawork:
As usual on the Tonys (so sad that they haven’t learned yet), the cameras had really weird angles during dances and were wayyyy too close during singing solos. Camera person! Move back during dance numbers! Let us see the whole stage at once! It’s okay if you stay still for more than 3 seconds! We won’t think you stopped working or something! And stop taking cues from Tom Hooper during solos! Move the crap back! The audience is never 2 inches out and 1 inch down from a performer’s chin during actual performances so why do you think that’s a good idea for the Tonys?
Um Okay:
It’s nice they did a short little dance tribute to Tommy Tune in honor of his Lifetime Achievement Award, but it would have been a helluva lot better if they let him dance. Or sing. Or accept onstage!
Um Okay #2:
Why is Ashley Tisdale on stage? Just because she was introducing her BFF Vanessa Hudgens? I really loved that she did indeed say ‘my best friend Vanessa Hudgens’ lolol like high school I did love that. But I’m best friends with Ken Watanabe and I didn’t introduce him. Also what you wearing girl. The performance by the cast of ‘Gigi’ would have been halfway decent but Tisdale’s BFF had too many loud awkward shrieks that weren’t in a high enough register so it just sounded kind of creepy. Too many pervy oh’s and ee’s. So awkward. It’s just an overall shame for ‘Gigi’ that it came out the same season as another adaptation of a classic movie set in Paris, written by Alan Jay Lerner, and directed by Vincente Minnelli, and the other one (‘American in Paris’) just happened to be 100x better.
Best Moment for Womankind Since Hillary Became President:
Jeanine Tesori and Lisa Kron not only wrote the best score and book of this year, and of many years actually, but they also made history as the first all-female writing team to win best score. That is HUGE. Depressing for our past, but uplifting for our future. Their work on ‘Fun Home’ is astounding, heart-breaking, beautiful, and so intelligent and layered that I’m still realizing deeper meanings for certain lyrics or lines. That is impressive work. Their speeches were so necessary too, with Jeanine saying that “girls need to see it to be it”, meaning that you can’t just pay lip service and tell young girls they can be anything they want; you have to show them that it’s possible by giving all women the chance.
I also almost wept when the most adorable Joel Grey called it ‘the new American classic’. It is.
Worst Moment for the Art Form:
The continued brush-off of the Best Score and Best Book categories as they are presented during commercial breaks. That is bullshit. Those two pieces are literally the only two components of a musical, yet they aren’t important enough to make the broadcast? What is that about?
Best Performance:
Young Sydney Lucas, a Tony nominee for ‘Fun Home’ at the age of 11 and my choice if I were a voter, performed her big solo ‘Ring of Keys’, which is a genius look into the mind of a young girl as she realizes what is possible in terms of gender and its presentation and how all her jumbled thoughts can be reconciled as she discovers herself. The words sound exactly like something a 10 or so year old kid would say, yet they are still conveying an incredibly mature message and a brilliant look into what’s going on in her mind. And Sydney shows all of that when she sings this song. She is the best child musical actor probably ever and will win someday, I’m sure.
The camera is too close to her face, of course, because the camera people are drunk with power and don’t know how to channel it.
Worst Timing:
I thought the small bit with Kristin Chenoweth in an E.T. costume and Alan saying “I said FUN Home!” (get it, not ‘phone home’) was really funny, but terribly timed to almost coincide with the applause from Sydney’s performance. Just ain’t right.
Worst Timing (Serious):
When Marianne Elliott (yay female director!) was accepting the Best Direction for a Play award for ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime’ (a show I feel like I saw a decade ago in London and ya know it was just a’ight dawg, just a’ight), she mentioned that her agent died on their Broadway opening night. Shit.
Best Green Moment:
Ruthie Ann Miles was as shocked as everyone else when she won, and I am so so happy for her. Everyone expected one of the ‘Fun Home’ ladies to win, as I did, but I am super happy for Ruthie, whom I adore. She broke out just recently as Imelda Marcos in ‘Here Lies Love’ and is already such a force on Broadway, so yay Ruthie! Anyway, she took out her phone to read her speech – which you know I hate, I don’t want anyone to ever prepare anything or have notes – but she deadpanned “Please recycle” to the camera when acknowledging that she wrote her notes on her phone. Love it! I also love that she went on so long that she was actually tap-danced off by the ‘On the Twentieth Century’ porters, as the hosts said would happen in the beginning if the speeches went on too long. Ruthie’s face when she realized the source of that sound was priceless.
The tappers from ‘On the Twentieth Century’ reminded me that they were the best part of that terrible show and that Kristin deserved such a better vehicle for her talents. But again that’s a post for another time.
Most Exciting Commercial Break:
What is this movie, “Bridge of Spies”, and why have I never heard of it! It is total Oscar bait and I am so excited. It stars Tom Hanks and Mark Rylance, like the best people ever, and I am really excited for Mark Rylance to win an Oscar and accept with a random poem and birds and have Hollywood be like, ‘am I hallucinating? What is happening up there?’ like he does when he wins Tonys. J’adore.
Grossest Misuse of a Celebrity:
Sting appeared only to thank the American Theatre Wing. Which is necessary and important, because the ATW makes all of this possible, but STING? Anyone could have read a few lines. Why didn’t they have Sting sing something? Or, better yet, feature ‘The Last Ship’, a very underrated show with hauntingly beautiful music?
Most British Moment:
The lead producer of ‘Curious Incident’, Tom Levy, accepted his award like someone just handed him a list of his duties for that work day. Like, I live in London now, I get that Britons aren’t allowed to smile or show emotion, but you just won a Tony, man! Get the stick out.
Most Adorable Fanboying:
Alan Cumming grasping his face every time he mentioned Josh Groban. I get it, man.
Funniest Host Bit:
I loved Kristin and Alan’s discussion of upcoming movie remakes of recent plays, especially when Kristin announced that she got the call for the animated version of ‘Skylight’ (oh dear) and was ‘playing the spaghetti bolognese’ that Carey Mulligan makes every night. Amazing.
Meanest Girl:
Amanda Seyfried does not seem like a hoot.
Randomest Presenting Team:
Jennifer Lopez, Nick Jonas, and Kiesza. I mean. What? They introduced ‘Finding Neverland’ because they are all on the pop version of the album? What is THAT? J-Lo couldn’t stop laughing, Nick Jonas couldn’t even remember who he was so I doubt the audience knew. And that other girl, Kiesza? Is that the new Czech persona of Ke$ha??
Lamest Result of Overvoting:
Overvoting is when voters get so excited about a show that they just vote for it mindlessly, leading to it winning in categories it doesn’t really deserve. It gets swept up in the hype. The worst casualty in my book this year was for set design. ‘An American in Paris’ won, okay, cool. But did you even SEE ‘The King and I’? I have seen most Broadway productions for at least the past decade. A set piece has NEVER, EVER, EVER gotten show-stopping applause during a show, until I saw ‘The King and I’ and that boat that opens the show just leaves everyone spellbound. It is a miraculous piece of theatre magic and should have won. Fo shame.
Best Random Interaction:
Joe Manganiello, talking about Carnegie Mellon for some reason, asks fellow CMU alum Darren Criss who his inspiration was. A truly game Darren responds without a beat: “I’ve seen ‘Magic Mike’ so I have to say I learned a lot from you!” Now that actually makes me like Darren Criss a little.
Best Repeat Winner:
I am so, so thrilled that Michael Cerveris won for his devastating portrayal of the late Bruce Bechdel in ‘Fun Home’. While newcomer Robert Fairchild (whom Cerveris called Fitzgerald, suchhh a bad brain fart, Cerveza) would have been equally deserving, the role of Bruce is such an important one for Cerveris and for theatre. It’s just wonderful and heartbreaking and I don’t care at all about spreading the wealth here. (Also he won more than a decade ago.)
NPH’s Best Oscars Moment:
Neil Patrick Harris’s best moment as Oscars host actually happened at the Tonys. Before announcing Best Leading Actress in a Musical, NPH said he had made some predictions that were locked in a box the whole show, before he was stopped. Ha ha. You were not a great Oscars host, that’s the joke, tee hee. “That’s a drag, because it went so well last time!” Aw, NPH, we love you.
Worst Decision:
I can’t believe they didn’t televise the awarding of John Cameron Mitchell’s Special Tony for returning to the role of Hedwig. I love him and he probably said some wonderful things but I don’t know because stupid producers put him during the commercials. JCM DESERVES BETTER.
Worst Audience Reaction:
Stupid people who get to go to the Tonys/Oscars/Grammys/any awards that honors the deceased, do NOT, I repeat, do NOT, woo and cheer for the person singing the In Memoriam. I don’t care that it’s Josh Groban, you make it seem like you are excited for the dead people. Then, once you get over the singer, DO NOT woo or cheer for the actual dead people FFS!!!!!! Who lets these people into the Tonys? Don’t applaud for the dead people you liked best you halfwits! Be silent and remember and honor all of these people. Don’t make everything a popularity contest you moronic shitbags I f-ing hate all of you who have applauded during an In Memoriam segment. I tweeted earlier that I hope anyone who cheers during an In Memoriam never gets to be a part of one, and while I think they would be really good punishment for most offenders, it’s not enough. Just shut up, not everything is about how you feel about something.
KELLI MY QUEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!! Kelli O’Hara, six-time nominee and the most deserving at least twice in the past (cough 2005 and 2014 cough), finally FINALLY won a Tony. And it was not out of sympathy, because I really think she gave the best actress performance this year. Kristin Chenoweth, the slightly more expected winner, gave a spectacular performance but in a terrible show, and Kelli added so much depth and roundedness to a character we thought we knew everything about, and stunned everyone with her never-ending wealth of talents. Also, she danced off the stage in glee. Now that was adorable!
Best Audience Reaction:
The standing ovation they gave the much-deserving, always deserving, completely patient Kelli O’Hara, the queen of everything.
Best Presenter Banter, Probably Ever:
Larry David and Jason Alexander, different versions of the same guy I guess, presented the award for Best Musical, but first they went on and on with each other about how Larry’s show wasn’t nominated but he’s the bigger man for showing up or is a loser and yada yada yada it was hysterical. Jason first said that tomorrow he will be replacing Larry in ‘Fish in the Dark’, to which Larry said, “Well…you’re not really replacing, you’re just stepping in.” To which Jason mentioned his 7 Emmy nominations. To which Larry mentioned that the true measure of a man is NOT being nominated but still coming to read a list of people who are nominated. On it went. It’s too bad Larry’s play is already sold out because I’m sure they would have sold a lot of tickets with that bit. “Laughing until their faces are contorted into an anguished mask, that can best be described as a sort of…Bells Palsy.” Then Larry said it was anti-Semitism that caused the lack of nominations for him and for Harvey Weinstein, who clearly loved that line. Amazing.
WTF Moment:
WTF (that’s why not what) does Anna Wintour have a prime aisle seat?
So Who Won?
The point of the Tonys, at least for producers of current productions, is to get viewers to want to see their shows. So What do I want to see more than anything after this telecast? ‘Something Rotten’, which gave a fantastic performance, and ‘Hand to God’, funnily enough, which showed a really intriguing clip. And the beyond brilliant, beyond integral, totally flawless ‘Fun Home’ again. What do you want to see?