Flying Over Sunset (Broadway) (2022)

We had tickets to see Flying Over Sunset last year but it was canceled for Covid. They did reopen this year, though maybe they shouldn't have; sadly they are ending their limited run two weeks early. I don't know how this concept even got greenlit; it's way out there. It's an LSD trip taken by Aldous Huxley, Carey Grant and Clare Booth Luce. Though they are all on the record as having taken LSD, there is no historical evidence that they did so together, let alone even knew each other. So it's entirely made up, and what an odd thing to make up. Who in this day and age are interested in these three random historical figures? With a concept like LSD, they could've gone way further with either absurdist comedy. In that way, the problem is that it's not funny enough. They almost get there with the reference to Blue Origin (actually predating Blue Origin). But on the whole, they should've swung wilder.

Tony Yazbeck plays Carey Grant. He actually kind of resembles him a bit. He sings and tap dances atop a desk. Harry Hadden-Paton for me is always going to be Henry Higgins from My Fair Lady. He has the accent and the quintessential British-ness. He plays Aldous Huxley similarly. Carmen Cusack plays Clare Booth Luce, who was at one time Ambassador to Italy, and also a playwright and magazine editor. The actors are all actually fine but the material is not that interesting. The first act, with the three separate trips is kind of boring. The second act is a little better when the trip together. But it's not really coherent and there isn't really a point to it. And the music is mostly unmemorable.

By far the best part of the show is the set design by Beowulf Boritt. The set is lush and wondrous. The back wall curves and shows projections (including clips from Houseboat during a hallucinatory dance with Sophia Loren)  and moves back and forth and swivels real fast. The drug store in act I transports us straight to the 50s. The choreography is also kind of interesting. Aside from the explicit tap dancing, there is a lot of syncopated walking. That can't be easy getting the rhythm right.

The Deuce (2017-19)

Not as groundbreaking as the Wire, but every bit as astute, insightful and well made. David Simon remains our greatest chronicler of the American city, this time New York in the 70s and 80s around 42nd Street. The epilogue shows what it has transformed into now, a tourist trap, a far cry from the Taxi Driver-era. Simon is interested in the how; what are the socioeconomic and political drivers that cause a city to change? Ed Koch looms over the show though he is never shown on screen. The third season's coverage of the AIDS epidemic is especially poignant. In parallel, it's also about the pornography industry, in that window it enjoyed mainstream success. For that the story expands out to California. I'd say the third theme is the mafia, showing the audience how organized crime makes money in as much detail as The Sopranos. Simon treats his characters equally and with dignity, whether they are government officials, policemen, reporters, mobsters, pimps, prostitutes or pornographers.  They all have rich, thoughtful characterization with satisfying arcs. The stars are James Franco, who plays twins, and Maggie Gyllenhaal, who plays a prostitute turned porn-director turned art house filmmaker. The rest of the cast is full of David Simon regulars who appear in his other works. He continues to cast them because they're good. Simple as that.

Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-21)

Brooklyn Nine-Nine almost ended three years ago before it was revived by NBC. At the time, there was a grassroots campaign to bring it back on the air; and with good reason, it was a funny show with a high laughs per minute ratio. It's a lot of Andy Samberg though and he's not everybody's cup of tea. At the same time, shows like Brooklyn Nine-Nine presented cops (the NYPD specifically) in a benign, playful light. It's a cast of goofy, rather memorable, characters. They're going to catch the baddie and just have fun doing it. The show recognized that this is problematic in our culture, quite troubling really that these are the quirky buffoons that are supposed to be protecting us. In its final season, the only one following the killing of George Floyd, it directly addressed police reform, the police union and police brutality, rather deftly for a network sitcom.  Anyways, while I enjoyed the show, it's probably for the best.

Company (Broadway) (2021)

I'll start by saying I love Company. I'm a little biased. I played violin in the pit of my college production of Company so I'm very familiar with it; it's one show-stopper after another. In retrospect, we were all a little young for Company. The protagonist is turning 35, anxious about aging and still being unmarried. The brilliance of the new production is that male Bobby becomes female Bobbie. Marianne Elliott astutely realized that in 2021 there is nothing so special about a 35-year old bachelor but there are interesting things to say about a 35-year old bachelorette. Tick-Tock takes on a new meaning with Bobbie's biological clock. It mostly works. Some of the characters' names have gone through gender changes. Some of the lyrics were changed a bit ("life" doesn't rhyme with "fella"). I think there are two big gender hurdles. The first is when Bobbie proposes to her gay friend Jamie, which is less convincing and comes off more like a joke than male Bobby seriously proposing to Amy. The bigger one is when you get to Bobbie's 11 o'clock number, Being Alive. In the original, the older, jaded, twice-divorced Joanne propositions Bobby. She says she'll take care of him and he responds, "But who will I take care of?" In the new version, Joanne instead offers her husband Larry. It doesn't quite work the same. She tells Bobbie to take care of Larry, and she responds "But who will take care of me?" Don't change the line! It's 2021. We've just spent two hours questioning marriage and gender roles. Bobbie is a liberated woman. If she desired to get married, it's certainly not to be taken care of like some damsel. The scene with Jenny and David demonstrates that wives do not need to be taken care of and indeed can be the ones who take care. Elliott swapped them, with now David the uptight spouse. It is Jenny that takes care of David, pushing him to not partake further in the marijuana he dislikes. 

Necessarily there are brand new arrangements of the songs for gender-swapped voices. Songs previously sung by men are now sung by women and vice versa. I am not really a fan of the barbershop trio-style You Could Drive a Person Crazy. But I love the male Another Hundred People and Getting Married Today. It's now a gay marriage and in perhaps the best, most raucous scene. There are lots of surprises in the kitchen set piece with the priest popping out of all sorts of unexpected places. There isn't much dance, per se, but the blocking is highly choreographed. There are a lot of swiping and selfie motions; it kind of gets a smirk the first time in Bobbie's cramped apartment. But I like the musical chairs/tables bit in Side by Side, which is very precise. I also thought that Company and Side by Side were a little slow, maybe because of the simultaneous choreography.

The set design is stellar. It's like Alice in Wonderland with the big rooms and small rooms and rabbit holes. I love the interchanging rooms and hallways that attach to each other. There are hidden 35s everywhere.  I'll say again the kitchen secrets are hilarious. I love that the band sits above the sets and are in full view. I did have an issue with the neon lighting, which was kind of distracting. It also casts bad shadows in the jiu-jitsu scene. The big neon "COMPANY" letters in Another Hundred People was unexpected but I think works, and appropriately recognizes the song as New York's solo.

Katrina Lenk is on stage nearly the whole show. Even when she's not singing, she is there reacting non-stop.  She is actually kind of old to be playing 35-year old Bobbie, as she is approaching 50 (and fittingly supposedly unmarried), not that you could tell from the mezzanine. She is beautiful dressed in a solid red jumpsuit, contrasted with the blues of the set. Her red bra and panties also contrasts Andy's blue briefs. She is a great actor and a capable singer but I found her solos to be a bit breathy. Matt Doyle as Jamie stood out for me. And Patti Lupone is the diva that steals the show whenever she's on stage, even just swinging her legs from atop a high barstool. Her Ladies Who Lunch is very different from Elaine Stritch's but her style works. She enunciates all the consonants at the end of every lyric.

Overall it's very entertaining. It's way funnier from the audience than from the pit. The vignettes are all great. And the songs are some of Sondheim's most hummable. Very happy we got to see this on a Thursday, after they canceled two performances on Sunday due to non-COVID illness, supposedly Patti Lupone had rotavirus. Broadway generally seems to have lowered the non-COVID sickness threshold for cancellation. So much for the show must go on. But glad ours did.

Caroline, or Change (Broadway) (2021)

We were supposed to go see Caroline, or Change last year before it got postponed due to the pandemic. Despite the rise of the Omicron variant in New York, Roundabout Theater Company has avoided having to cancel any performances. Fortunately, the indomitable Sharon D Clarke, who won an Olivier for playing the role of Caroline on the West End, has remained in good health and she was phenomenal. You would never know she was British as she nails the Louisiana drawl. 

Jeanine Tesori's music is a mix of many genres, ranging from Motown to spiritual to klezmer. The dialogue is sung through opera style. Many of the lyrics are actually spoken, kind of reminiscent of Sondheim in that there are no hummable tunes but yet the music is melodic in its own way. The opening chord on the piano gave me goosebumps. The music is haunting. It is accompanied by a low cricket's buzzing that greets you as you enter the theater; you see a confederate statue at center stage and reeds of tall grass on the sides. It transports the audience to the bayou immediately. I did have difficulty understanding the lyrics spoken on stage; only Clarke's diction was clear from the balcony. I otherwise had to concentrate really hard to hear the distinct words that are really crucial to conveying the meaning in the plot.

Caroline is a maid for a Jewish family who does laundry all day in the stifling basement. The radio keeps her company. The appliances and radio and moon and bus are all personified as singing beings. Among them Caroline can let her guard down. She is otherwise rather brusque with her white employers, including the child Noah, who stands in for Tony Kushner himself. The play alternates between Caroline's perspective and Noah's. Noah is young and naive; he doesn't understand the value of money nor the power it holds. He carelessly then purposefully leaves change in his pockets. To teach him a lesson, his stepmother lets Caroline keep the spare change, call it a tip. She puts Caroline in an uncomfortable position. She obviously needs the money but she a grown woman is literally being asked to steal loose change from a baby. The stepmother understands not what value dignity holds for a woman demeaned as a maid. It's good intentions not well thought out, performative at best (reminds you of the present). The story pits against each other two historically marginalized groups who would otherwise typically commiserate. When the stepmother's father comes to visit for Hanukkah from New York, he reveals a more radical perspective, advocating violence, skeptical of Martin Luther King's non-violent methods. It is Caroline's daughter, the next generation, who can afford to be hopeful to Dr. King will deliver them from Jim Crow. 

The ending did leave me a little wanting. The plot doesn't really resolve. Or maybe it resolves cynically. It's very real, quite challenging to analyze--not bright, commercial Broadway stuff. It's a corrective of sorts to the nurturing portrayal of the Southern maid in The Help. It is left ambiguous to me whether Caroline returns to work. I think she is resigned to herself, too old to change. But she allows her children to be hopeful? And even that is a kind of change enough. The kids get the final word, though I'm not sure of the significance that the daughter participated in the removal of the statue. Is that hope for the next generation? Does Noah learn anything? Is the play itself what he learned?

Insecure (2016-21)

Issa Rae's breakout hit Insecure closed out its fantastic five season run. She succeeded in writing contemporary black life on screen. She personified the side of Los Angeles that portrays neither the glamor nor the ghetto. She depicted that in-between period of life in your late twenties/early thirties that Friends put on screen when you are still trying to figure out your life and your "friends are your family". Perhaps it's fitting that the finale sees Issa's best friend Molly getting married. It is their friendship that sits at the center of the show. It's what makes season 4, the one where their friendship is on the rocks, the strongest. Their romantic relationships with a rotating cast of eligible black men (and Alexander Hodge) revolve around Molly and Issa's love for each other. While Lawrence was the emotionally earned choice (though maybe abrupt for the finale), I don't think it's the most adult choice. Yes, Lawrence has grown but Issa has too. And following her heart is the more immature option, and I think she has grown into a new phase of her life in which she would have been able to move on. Overall though, I loved the time-jumping finale. 

It is a beautifully shot show, with lighting and makeup befitting black skin tones. It was sometimes uneven, but Insecure took big swings. It was at once funny, endearing, moving, raunchy and authentic. And it all evolved from a little web series featuring Issa rapping to herself in the mirror. Certainly, by the end she is no longer the insecure girl pumping herself up in the mirror anymore--the final shot is the empty mirror. The music supervision was always really good. They find the right song for the moment, while serving as a platform for new black talent, doing exactly as Issa Dee does in the show. That goes not only for the musicians, but also the cast of supporting actors (a standout discovery in Yvonne Orji) and in Issa Rae's real post-Insecure life with her production company Hoorae. 

City So Real (2020)

Steve James's Chicago docuseries is a fascinating look at a wild jungle primary for the mayor's office. I knew very little about Chicago politics but I feel like I know all the players now. It's very long but never boring. James has incredible access to the candidates, likely contenders and giving equal credence to also-rans who nonetheless exercise some influence in the city, benevolent or otherwise. James does not insert himself in the film, he gives no personal opinions, though his editing does sometimes betray his loyalties. He gives equal weight to both sides, Democrat and Republican, North Side and South Side, black and white. What he does brilliantly is juxtaposes shots from the North Side with reverse shots from the South Side giving a different perspective to the same issue. There are many pertinent topics to the election, and James tries to cover all of them. Chicago is a collection of neighborhoods, and he explores them all, looking at the nitty gritty of daily life in the city. He interviews people of all classes, all walks of life. He returns to the same subjects in the pandemic to check back in. There is some irony that the winner of the election was gifted with the treachery of 2020. The original cut probably would've ended at Episode 4 but he could not resist a revisit in the pandemic. It's all the better for it to demonstrate what they're running for. Lori Lightfoot goes from very popular in Episode 4 to very unpopular in Episode 5. That's politics for ya.