I was simply walking in the woods, talking to myself. Nothing wrong with that.
Oh. Unless you're not a freak.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Saturday, June 26, 2004
CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF STUFF DONE SO FAR TODAY:
--Finally squared away the phone problems. [Editor's Note: Funny story. Well, actually, it's not. It's gut wrenching, emotional, and verging on suicidal. But that's relatively humorous in its own light. Let's see: We started out on June 16th, trying to switch cellular phone companies. The companies screwed up. Let us call them "B-Hobile" and "KC&C". They dragged us around (particularly my line) for two weeks. Today, we are finally finished, and I am on the new company, with a new phone, and supposedly, a new lease on life, although I've yet to see any kind of "Lease" agreement.]
--Went to Long's Christian Bookstore. Found a card that says, "God Bless Ewe." Had a sheep on it. I found it rather clever.
--Bought a hat from another store, a hat which I fervently refuse to wear, simply because it has the brand name, Adidas, on it, therefore advocating exercise.
--Stepped into Party City. Pretty boring for a "party city," if I do say so myself.
--Went to Sam's, and tried to trick the clerk into paying us a dollar for not addressing my mother by her first name. It almost worked.
--Found Bob the Tomato on the side of the road. Turned out to belong to someone. Put him back down.
--Rented another Christopher Guest film from Blockbuster. That was pretty much the crowning moment of the day.
--Bought some food from Panera's. Saw Melissa Benson. Bordered on scary.
--Sitting here, typing, waiting for the day to end, and tomorrow to begin. Or the other way around. That would be kind of okay.
Tomorrow starts the week at Dayspring, which I could be happier about, I suppose, but lends to unexpected stuff.
"Stuff," because I have no idea what will come of the week.
--Finally squared away the phone problems. [Editor's Note: Funny story. Well, actually, it's not. It's gut wrenching, emotional, and verging on suicidal. But that's relatively humorous in its own light. Let's see: We started out on June 16th, trying to switch cellular phone companies. The companies screwed up. Let us call them "B-Hobile" and "KC&C". They dragged us around (particularly my line) for two weeks. Today, we are finally finished, and I am on the new company, with a new phone, and supposedly, a new lease on life, although I've yet to see any kind of "Lease" agreement.]
--Went to Long's Christian Bookstore. Found a card that says, "God Bless Ewe." Had a sheep on it. I found it rather clever.
--Bought a hat from another store, a hat which I fervently refuse to wear, simply because it has the brand name, Adidas, on it, therefore advocating exercise.
--Stepped into Party City. Pretty boring for a "party city," if I do say so myself.
--Went to Sam's, and tried to trick the clerk into paying us a dollar for not addressing my mother by her first name. It almost worked.
--Found Bob the Tomato on the side of the road. Turned out to belong to someone. Put him back down.
--Rented another Christopher Guest film from Blockbuster. That was pretty much the crowning moment of the day.
--Bought some food from Panera's. Saw Melissa Benson. Bordered on scary.
--Sitting here, typing, waiting for the day to end, and tomorrow to begin. Or the other way around. That would be kind of okay.
Tomorrow starts the week at Dayspring, which I could be happier about, I suppose, but lends to unexpected stuff.
"Stuff," because I have no idea what will come of the week.
Friday, June 25, 2004
"OR WAS HE THINKING, 'WHICH ONE OF THEM SCREWED ME OVER?'"
Thank Allah I'm a liberal.
Fahrenheit 9/11 was a success. It worked. It flowed, it was Moore at his best (hidden, yet vocal), and the reaction from the people sitting around me was nothing short of glorious.
I wish he had just been sitting there, next to me, filling in his own comments here and there, and simply basking in the realization these people were suddenly thrown into: completely unaware of the gravity of their realizations, and compelled without warning.
There was applause.
A full house.
He'd be twirling his mustache.
Thank Allah I'm a liberal.
Fahrenheit 9/11 was a success. It worked. It flowed, it was Moore at his best (hidden, yet vocal), and the reaction from the people sitting around me was nothing short of glorious.
I wish he had just been sitting there, next to me, filling in his own comments here and there, and simply basking in the realization these people were suddenly thrown into: completely unaware of the gravity of their realizations, and compelled without warning.
There was applause.
A full house.
He'd be twirling his mustache.
Monday, June 21, 2004
UPDATE FROM PARIS
My dearest Kelley,
How goes it? Gearing up for school tomorrow? Doing your economics homework? I bet. ;)
Anyway, I'm in Paris right now. Things are going well here and the weather is lovely. So far we have gone to my cousin's dance recital, her piano recital, and Harry Potter 3. Other than that, we haven't done anything other than recovering from jet lag. Tomorrow afternoon we are flying to Moscow and will be there for a couple of days. Hopefully, I will have more to report about then.
Hope you are doing well. I'll call you as soon as I get back so (1) We can hang out, (2) I can give you your tsar, and (3) we can talk about things. . .
Talk to you soon,
Elis :)
You'd think something like this would make me feel distorted and gawkishly jealous about being stuck in Orlando.
No.
It merely brings me hope that there's a Tzar in my future.
Or Rasputin.
My dearest Kelley,
How goes it? Gearing up for school tomorrow? Doing your economics homework? I bet. ;)
Anyway, I'm in Paris right now. Things are going well here and the weather is lovely. So far we have gone to my cousin's dance recital, her piano recital, and Harry Potter 3. Other than that, we haven't done anything other than recovering from jet lag. Tomorrow afternoon we are flying to Moscow and will be there for a couple of days. Hopefully, I will have more to report about then.
Hope you are doing well. I'll call you as soon as I get back so (1) We can hang out, (2) I can give you your tsar, and (3) we can talk about things. . .
Talk to you soon,
Elis :)
You'd think something like this would make me feel distorted and gawkishly jealous about being stuck in Orlando.
No.
It merely brings me hope that there's a Tzar in my future.
Or Rasputin.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
THIS IS THE LIFE; BO BO, BO BO BO.
Or so says Jonathan Larson.
Said.
Whatever.
Today was entirely exhausting, although I know not what from...I'm not sure I was truly weary, but perhaps 'displaced.' Yes. A much nicer word, displaced.
I was busy in compilation mode, creating a photo album online, but only now realized that:
A- I do not have too many pictures of myself.
B- Most of them date back to when James Barbour was 15 years old, and George W. was still caught up in electrocuting people for fun.
C- No one wants to see my ugly mug. Hell, I don't even want to have to look at it unless absolutely necessary.
D- It's so much easier to waste my time toying with my blog. Tee hee!
It's definitely time to go sleep. Or read. Possibly write.
I'm not picky at this stage in my life, where "deep sleep" denotes staying put in my bed for a minimum of twenty minutes.
Boo-yeah! That's called adolescence, baby.
Or so says Jonathan Larson.
Said.
Whatever.
Today was entirely exhausting, although I know not what from...I'm not sure I was truly weary, but perhaps 'displaced.' Yes. A much nicer word, displaced.
I was busy in compilation mode, creating a photo album online, but only now realized that:
A- I do not have too many pictures of myself.
B- Most of them date back to when James Barbour was 15 years old, and George W. was still caught up in electrocuting people for fun.
C- No one wants to see my ugly mug. Hell, I don't even want to have to look at it unless absolutely necessary.
D- It's so much easier to waste my time toying with my blog. Tee hee!
It's definitely time to go sleep. Or read. Possibly write.
I'm not picky at this stage in my life, where "deep sleep" denotes staying put in my bed for a minimum of twenty minutes.
Boo-yeah! That's called adolescence, baby.
Monday, June 14, 2004
SUPERSIZE MORGAN.
Thank Jesus (or George W.) for independent theatres...
Elise, Mary, and I ventured out to the Enzian this evening for an evening of McDonald's bashing. It seems appropriate after hearing story after infamous story about Ray Crock and his devotion to milkshake machines and/or obesity.
(Either way, as far as I'm concerned.)
Besides the ginormous battle with fast-food America, the movie poked generous questions towards the people who control media output, the government subsidiaries, and the corporations themselves. It was honest, humorous, full of insinuation, and largely worth two hours of my time.
And at the end of the movie, we walked out into the deluge of storm water, buckets upon buckets being rained upon us, and found none other than a dead cat.
It was the perfect end to the evening.
[Editor's Note: For the record (and before anyone else bothers to mention it), Morgan Spurlock, creator and "star" of the film bears a striking resemblance to one Gene Monterastelli, but with a goatee. Coincidence? I hardly think so.]
Thank Jesus (or George W.) for independent theatres...
Elise, Mary, and I ventured out to the Enzian this evening for an evening of McDonald's bashing. It seems appropriate after hearing story after infamous story about Ray Crock and his devotion to milkshake machines and/or obesity.
(Either way, as far as I'm concerned.)
Besides the ginormous battle with fast-food America, the movie poked generous questions towards the people who control media output, the government subsidiaries, and the corporations themselves. It was honest, humorous, full of insinuation, and largely worth two hours of my time.
And at the end of the movie, we walked out into the deluge of storm water, buckets upon buckets being rained upon us, and found none other than a dead cat.
It was the perfect end to the evening.
[Editor's Note: For the record (and before anyone else bothers to mention it), Morgan Spurlock, creator and "star" of the film bears a striking resemblance to one Gene Monterastelli, but with a goatee. Coincidence? I hardly think so.]
Sunday, June 13, 2004
Friday, June 11, 2004
"GO TO SLEEP, UGLY," SAYS CROMWELL THE MOUSE.
Mary and I dined at Gator's Dockside this evening [Editor's Note: Although "dined" is an overstatement- we had potato skins, mushrooms, and chicken wings. The correct verb is "feasted."], and as we entered, I spotted a crane machine, which is easily understood as the downfall of my monetary existance...
But he's cute.
Cromwell The Mouse.
Mary and I dined at Gator's Dockside this evening [Editor's Note: Although "dined" is an overstatement- we had potato skins, mushrooms, and chicken wings. The correct verb is "feasted."], and as we entered, I spotted a crane machine, which is easily understood as the downfall of my monetary existance...
But he's cute.
Cromwell The Mouse.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
EVERYBODY'S GOT THE RIGHT TO HEAR JAMES.
So, the cast of Assasins went to the studio on Monday, recording the revival album that will be on my CD shelf come July 27th.
I was worried about this: I bought the original cast album earlier this year when the revival surfaced, but all the time fearing that a successful run would bring about a new recording, featuring my one-and-only. And who can possibly compete with James? No one.
Except for Victor Garber. He's one nice-looking old guy. And, hell, he's not a sucky actor either.
[Editor's Note: Unless you glance towards Alias. Then, we have a problem.]
But I digress...With very little to digress towards.
I'll complain and bask in the glow of the internet a bit later, perhaps?
So, the cast of Assasins went to the studio on Monday, recording the revival album that will be on my CD shelf come July 27th.
I was worried about this: I bought the original cast album earlier this year when the revival surfaced, but all the time fearing that a successful run would bring about a new recording, featuring my one-and-only. And who can possibly compete with James? No one.
Except for Victor Garber. He's one nice-looking old guy. And, hell, he's not a sucky actor either.
[Editor's Note: Unless you glance towards Alias. Then, we have a problem.]
But I digress...With very little to digress towards.
I'll complain and bask in the glow of the internet a bit later, perhaps?
Monday, June 07, 2004
STOLEN MERCILESSLY FROM THE HANDS OF GOOD WRITERS? I THINK SO.
Broadway Keeps It Gay
Ah yes, early June. Time for the gayest night on national television — not the Queer as Folk season finale, not the Cher guest spot on Will & Grace, but the 58th annual Tony Awards — the night when CBS tries to make middle America warm to a bunch of old, dried-out Manhattan theater queens.
HIGHLIGHTS:
8:00pm: Our host, Hugh Jackman, emerges onstage, flanked by some beauties from the casts of the musicals Hairspray, Little Shop of Horrors, and Caroline, or Change. They all shake it while singing 'One Night Only' from Dreamgirls. Hugh pretends to be interested in women.
8:03pm: Dear Hugh high-kicks higher than any of the Radio City Rockettes, putting the last nail in any chances he ever had to be the next James Bond. Hey Hugh, how'd your hamstrings get so limber?
8:07pm: Billy Joel limps onstage with Jane Krakowski to present the first award of the evening. T-minus how many days til he crashes his car into another house? Let's take bets.
8:08pm: Ms. Krakowski, in standard charming-quirky fashion, saves the on-another-planet Mr. Joel from blatant flubs with his cue cards. Despite the help, Mr. Joel goes on to mispronounce several exotic nominee names, such as "Caroline" and "Jennifer."
8:12pm: Phylicia Rashad (aka Clair Huxtable) and Sean Combs (aka P.Diddy, aka Puff Daddy, aka Maria Teresa Thierstein Simoes-Ferreira Heinz Kerry) present Best Featured Actor in a Musical. Winner Michael Cerveris, the whitest man in the world, jokes, with attempted flava, about being onstage with "Puff." Mrs. Huxtable barely tolerates this sh*t.
8:19pm: Kristin Chenoweth, who plays the witch Glinda in Wicked, floats out over the stage in a big bubble, amid supplementary bubbles. Somebody shoot that b*tch down.
8:24pm: Alfred Molina sheds his scary metal prosthetic octo-arms to lead the company of Fiddler on the Roof in a rousing rendition of 'Tradition'. They ignite the audience with their chutzpah and win the Tony for Butt-Ugliest Broadway Cast.
8:37pm: New Jheri-Curl spokesman Brian Stokes Mitchell, with excruciatingly perfect diction, introduces the nominees for Best Play. Nice shirt, crazy man.
8:39pm: 8,000-year-old Chita Rivera sashays out to present Best Choreography and makes a nice mention of the dearly-departed Broadway great Gregory Hines. Kathleen Marshall, sister of Chicago film director Rob Marshall, wins for the wonderful dancing in the wonderful revival Wonderful Town. F*cking wonderful.
8:42pm: Edie Falco, sporting not-so-wonderful bulldyke-Caesar hair, introduces a musical number from Caroline, or Change. The usually amazing Tonya Pinkins sings a horrific, bellowing rendition of her big number from the show. Try clearing your throat and singing on key.
8:57pm: Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel (real-life wife of actor Taye Diggs) play who-can-shriek-the-loudest in a number from the bloated mega-musical nightmare Wicked. Ms. Menzel's green wicked-witch makeup makes her and Mr. Diggs a doozy of an interracial couple.
9:06pm: Hugh Jackman pretends not to be interested in Rod, the closeted gay puppet from the magnificently demented little puppet musical Avenue Q. Mr. Jackman unnecessarily involves his "wife" in the oh-so-racy banter. OH REALLY.
9:10pm: 8,000,000-year-old Carol Channing, accompanied by LL Cool J — a match made in someone's heaven—presents the award for Best Music. Ms. Channing not only sounds exactly like Barbara Billingsley as the Jive Lady in Airplane!, she also, we learn, LOVES hugging LL. The award goes to Avenue Q in a nice upset—Puppets 1, Witches 0.
9:27pm: Brían F. O'Byrne, an Actor, presents an Actorly speech about Acting in Professional Theatre. "Ooh look at me, I'm so Irish I need an í in Brían." OH I BET YOU DO MARY.
9:28pm: Anne Heche, fresh from the mothership, presents Best Featured Actress in a Play to the lovely Audra McDonald from A Raisin in the Sun. Ms. McDonald accepts her fourth Tony in ten years with brief, heartfelt comments. Listen up, non-brief, non-heartfelt retards.
9:31pm: It's Victor Garber. Who's next, Treat Williams?
9:40pm: Martin Short got out of his straitjacket somehow.
9:46pm: Jimmy Fallon is introduced as "popular comic actor Jimmy Fallon." Thanks, cheerful announcer!
9:57pm: For the first and likely last time in his life, Ethan Hawke has better hair than someone else. It seems Scarlett Johansson still hasn't brushed, or even washed, her hair since she and Benicio Del Toro did their post-Oscars "making out or having sex or something" in the Chateau Marmont elevator.
9:58pm: Phylicia Rashad, most deservedly, wins Best Actress in a Play for A Raisin in the Sun. Her way-over-the-top delivery, however, nearly ruins what would otherwise be a lovely acceptance speech. Pipe down, Phylicia.
10:04pm: Washed-up songwriter Carole Bayer Sager, looking like Joan Collins meets Elvira with her fingers in an electric socket, introduces Hugh Jackman's musical number from The Boy from Oz. Mr. Jackman emerges in gold pants, riding a camel. Bet that's not the first thing he rode today.
10:07pm: Crazy old Hugh coaxes a tentative, mortified Sarah Jessica Parker onstage, but she refuses to lambada with him cause she's "worried about her top." Hey SJP, quit the prim-and-proper sh*t and just flash a little already.
10:15pm: Drowning in mascara, Laura Linney robotically presents the four nominees for Best Play - Revival, with a forced little smile for each one. Awwww.
10:19pm: Speaking of awww, cute little Bernadette Peters comes out to inform us that she's not dead. Awww, let's pet her.
10:25pm: Hair mussed from a backstage tryst with Doogie Howser, Hugh Jackman makes perfunctory mention of Tony Randall's passing.
10:27pm: Patrick Stewart is still bald. Engage.
10:28pm: Best Actor in a Play winner Jefferson Mays uses the phrase "piquant ingenue." Please run this guy over with a bus.
10:32pm: Bafflingly, Mary J. Blige comes out to sing 'What I Did for Love' from A Chorus Line. In keeping with the evening, she sings horribly flat. Tone-deafness aside, whoever matched her with that song must have been the same ad wizard who cast Random Hearts.
10:41pm: Renée Zellweger, eyes wide shut, twirls onstage with Rob Marshall to present Best Actress in a Musical. Turns out that winner Idina Menzel of Wicked looks better with the green makeup than without. She gets very verklempt. B*TCH STOP GASPING.
10:45pm: Pale, tragic Nicole Kidman, ponytail ratcheted down so tight you can see her cranial nerves, puts on glasses to indicate that she's Serious about Presenting her Award. In the process of announcing nominees for Best Actor in a Musical, she wins Most Painfully Awkward Teleprompter Utilization.
10:46pm: Hmmm, Aussie Ms. Kidman presenting Best Actor in a Musical? Coincidence? You think Aussie Mr. Jackman might win for playing Aussie Peter Allen in The Boy from AUSSIE-F*CKING-OZ??? Wait do you get it?? OH MY GOD I GET IT!
10:56pm: In the final award of the evening, Avenue Q wins a huge, gratifying upset over the odious Wicked. Yay upsets! Yay genuine emotion! Yay puppet sex!
LESSONS FROM THE EVENING:
1. Hugh Jackman = not the boy next door, not the next James Bond.
2. Audra McDonald = classy (and can probably beat up Hugh Jackman).
3. Live singing = flat singing.
4. Puppet raunch = Tony success.
Broadway Keeps It Gay
Ah yes, early June. Time for the gayest night on national television — not the Queer as Folk season finale, not the Cher guest spot on Will & Grace, but the 58th annual Tony Awards — the night when CBS tries to make middle America warm to a bunch of old, dried-out Manhattan theater queens.
HIGHLIGHTS:
8:00pm: Our host, Hugh Jackman, emerges onstage, flanked by some beauties from the casts of the musicals Hairspray, Little Shop of Horrors, and Caroline, or Change. They all shake it while singing 'One Night Only' from Dreamgirls. Hugh pretends to be interested in women.
8:03pm: Dear Hugh high-kicks higher than any of the Radio City Rockettes, putting the last nail in any chances he ever had to be the next James Bond. Hey Hugh, how'd your hamstrings get so limber?
8:07pm: Billy Joel limps onstage with Jane Krakowski to present the first award of the evening. T-minus how many days til he crashes his car into another house? Let's take bets.
8:08pm: Ms. Krakowski, in standard charming-quirky fashion, saves the on-another-planet Mr. Joel from blatant flubs with his cue cards. Despite the help, Mr. Joel goes on to mispronounce several exotic nominee names, such as "Caroline" and "Jennifer."
8:12pm: Phylicia Rashad (aka Clair Huxtable) and Sean Combs (aka P.Diddy, aka Puff Daddy, aka Maria Teresa Thierstein Simoes-Ferreira Heinz Kerry) present Best Featured Actor in a Musical. Winner Michael Cerveris, the whitest man in the world, jokes, with attempted flava, about being onstage with "Puff." Mrs. Huxtable barely tolerates this sh*t.
8:19pm: Kristin Chenoweth, who plays the witch Glinda in Wicked, floats out over the stage in a big bubble, amid supplementary bubbles. Somebody shoot that b*tch down.
8:24pm: Alfred Molina sheds his scary metal prosthetic octo-arms to lead the company of Fiddler on the Roof in a rousing rendition of 'Tradition'. They ignite the audience with their chutzpah and win the Tony for Butt-Ugliest Broadway Cast.
8:37pm: New Jheri-Curl spokesman Brian Stokes Mitchell, with excruciatingly perfect diction, introduces the nominees for Best Play. Nice shirt, crazy man.
8:39pm: 8,000-year-old Chita Rivera sashays out to present Best Choreography and makes a nice mention of the dearly-departed Broadway great Gregory Hines. Kathleen Marshall, sister of Chicago film director Rob Marshall, wins for the wonderful dancing in the wonderful revival Wonderful Town. F*cking wonderful.
8:42pm: Edie Falco, sporting not-so-wonderful bulldyke-Caesar hair, introduces a musical number from Caroline, or Change. The usually amazing Tonya Pinkins sings a horrific, bellowing rendition of her big number from the show. Try clearing your throat and singing on key.
8:57pm: Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel (real-life wife of actor Taye Diggs) play who-can-shriek-the-loudest in a number from the bloated mega-musical nightmare Wicked. Ms. Menzel's green wicked-witch makeup makes her and Mr. Diggs a doozy of an interracial couple.
9:06pm: Hugh Jackman pretends not to be interested in Rod, the closeted gay puppet from the magnificently demented little puppet musical Avenue Q. Mr. Jackman unnecessarily involves his "wife" in the oh-so-racy banter. OH REALLY.
9:10pm: 8,000,000-year-old Carol Channing, accompanied by LL Cool J — a match made in someone's heaven—presents the award for Best Music. Ms. Channing not only sounds exactly like Barbara Billingsley as the Jive Lady in Airplane!, she also, we learn, LOVES hugging LL. The award goes to Avenue Q in a nice upset—Puppets 1, Witches 0.
9:27pm: Brían F. O'Byrne, an Actor, presents an Actorly speech about Acting in Professional Theatre. "Ooh look at me, I'm so Irish I need an í in Brían." OH I BET YOU DO MARY.
9:28pm: Anne Heche, fresh from the mothership, presents Best Featured Actress in a Play to the lovely Audra McDonald from A Raisin in the Sun. Ms. McDonald accepts her fourth Tony in ten years with brief, heartfelt comments. Listen up, non-brief, non-heartfelt retards.
9:31pm: It's Victor Garber. Who's next, Treat Williams?
9:40pm: Martin Short got out of his straitjacket somehow.
9:46pm: Jimmy Fallon is introduced as "popular comic actor Jimmy Fallon." Thanks, cheerful announcer!
9:57pm: For the first and likely last time in his life, Ethan Hawke has better hair than someone else. It seems Scarlett Johansson still hasn't brushed, or even washed, her hair since she and Benicio Del Toro did their post-Oscars "making out or having sex or something" in the Chateau Marmont elevator.
9:58pm: Phylicia Rashad, most deservedly, wins Best Actress in a Play for A Raisin in the Sun. Her way-over-the-top delivery, however, nearly ruins what would otherwise be a lovely acceptance speech. Pipe down, Phylicia.
10:04pm: Washed-up songwriter Carole Bayer Sager, looking like Joan Collins meets Elvira with her fingers in an electric socket, introduces Hugh Jackman's musical number from The Boy from Oz. Mr. Jackman emerges in gold pants, riding a camel. Bet that's not the first thing he rode today.
10:07pm: Crazy old Hugh coaxes a tentative, mortified Sarah Jessica Parker onstage, but she refuses to lambada with him cause she's "worried about her top." Hey SJP, quit the prim-and-proper sh*t and just flash a little already.
10:15pm: Drowning in mascara, Laura Linney robotically presents the four nominees for Best Play - Revival, with a forced little smile for each one. Awwww.
10:19pm: Speaking of awww, cute little Bernadette Peters comes out to inform us that she's not dead. Awww, let's pet her.
10:25pm: Hair mussed from a backstage tryst with Doogie Howser, Hugh Jackman makes perfunctory mention of Tony Randall's passing.
10:27pm: Patrick Stewart is still bald. Engage.
10:28pm: Best Actor in a Play winner Jefferson Mays uses the phrase "piquant ingenue." Please run this guy over with a bus.
10:32pm: Bafflingly, Mary J. Blige comes out to sing 'What I Did for Love' from A Chorus Line. In keeping with the evening, she sings horribly flat. Tone-deafness aside, whoever matched her with that song must have been the same ad wizard who cast Random Hearts.
10:41pm: Renée Zellweger, eyes wide shut, twirls onstage with Rob Marshall to present Best Actress in a Musical. Turns out that winner Idina Menzel of Wicked looks better with the green makeup than without. She gets very verklempt. B*TCH STOP GASPING.
10:45pm: Pale, tragic Nicole Kidman, ponytail ratcheted down so tight you can see her cranial nerves, puts on glasses to indicate that she's Serious about Presenting her Award. In the process of announcing nominees for Best Actor in a Musical, she wins Most Painfully Awkward Teleprompter Utilization.
10:46pm: Hmmm, Aussie Ms. Kidman presenting Best Actor in a Musical? Coincidence? You think Aussie Mr. Jackman might win for playing Aussie Peter Allen in The Boy from AUSSIE-F*CKING-OZ??? Wait do you get it?? OH MY GOD I GET IT!
10:56pm: In the final award of the evening, Avenue Q wins a huge, gratifying upset over the odious Wicked. Yay upsets! Yay genuine emotion! Yay puppet sex!
LESSONS FROM THE EVENING:
1. Hugh Jackman = not the boy next door, not the next James Bond.
2. Audra McDonald = classy (and can probably beat up Hugh Jackman).
3. Live singing = flat singing.
4. Puppet raunch = Tony success.
Sunday, June 06, 2004
ONE NIGHT ONLY!
Perhaps it was an awful presentation night for the American Theatre Wing, but good effing Lord, it was far from uneventful.
I'm still giggling.
I can't stop, in fact.
Not only did Avenue Q take home the three largest prizes (and the upset) of the evening, but Idina Menzel almost fell off of the podium she was scaling for "Defying Gravity."
It was a good evening.
Jackman, I suppose, deserved his Best Actor, as did Jefferson Mays. Rashad's speech was...Elitist; Menzel's was frazzled. I enjoyed the opening sequence, especially the awkward Jews swaying in rhythm from Fiddler. Jackman made out with not one, but two puppets, which brings his count to somewhere around sixteen inanimate objects he's violated in the last two years, I believe.
I have just a few minor questions:
---Did anyone else notice the two comedic ploys of the front runners for Best Musical? Sure, Rod was a cute homosexual puppet, but who can beat Chenowith's "Yes, it is good to see me, isn't it?"
---How much of the "Sopranos" population was actually going to switch to the TONY AWARDS? The classy mobsters?
---Why were the Featured Actor/Actress awards presented so early? Last year, Book and Score were presented first, then the Featured categories. It makes very little sense.
---Who in the universe actually wanted to see that stick, Sarah Jessica Parker, gyrate? No one. Except for Jackman.
---Speaking of Jackman, was the "mutant" comment to co-star Paquin just a bit over the top?
---How gorgeous was James Barbour? Really, really effing gorgeous.
---What was my favorite quotes of the evening? Curtsey of I Am My Own Wife writer Doug Wright ("Our entire cast just won Tony Awards!") and producer David Richenthal ("The entire cast: Jefferson Mays, Jefferson Mays, Jefferson Mays and Jefferson Mays.").
Here are some others that rate high on my list:
"Oh, I always loved it. Don't we all? Only miserable sick people don't. It's downright American!" --Carol Channing on rap music
"Do any of you want to know what orchestrations are?" -Michael Starobin, who won the Best Orchestrations category for his work on Assassins
"I think we can now announce that Rod will be replacing Hugh Jackman in The Boy from Oz." --Avenue Q producer Kevin McCollum
"I beat Smarty Jones" --Wicked costume designer Susan Hilferty on winning the triple crown of theater: the Outer Critics Circle Award, the Drama Desk Award and the Tony Award
"I feel like Smarty Jones." --Avenue Q's Jeff Whitty
"In fact, Smarty Jones is coming to our party!" --Avenue Q producer Kevin McCollum
"You know, Hugh, you are a very successful gentleman and I'm an investment banker, so if you ever need anyone to take care of your assetsÂ?" --Rod from Avenue Q
"Deb, if I go to the Avenue Q party, you'll know why." --Hugh Jackman to his wife after Rod's flirtation
"Here is what you missed at our little barbeque: I danced with the Rockettes, a witch came on in a bubble, a lot of Jews danced their way out of Russia, Tony Bennett sang, Harvey Fierstein presented an award, there was swing dancing, a whole bunch of people did a musical number about assassinating presidents and there were puppets in group therapy. It's not TV, it's the Tony Awards."--Hugh Jackman recapping the evening so far for people just tuning in
More later. I have to go rewind the tape and watch again.
Perhaps it was an awful presentation night for the American Theatre Wing, but good effing Lord, it was far from uneventful.
I'm still giggling.
I can't stop, in fact.
Not only did Avenue Q take home the three largest prizes (and the upset) of the evening, but Idina Menzel almost fell off of the podium she was scaling for "Defying Gravity."
It was a good evening.
Jackman, I suppose, deserved his Best Actor, as did Jefferson Mays. Rashad's speech was...Elitist; Menzel's was frazzled. I enjoyed the opening sequence, especially the awkward Jews swaying in rhythm from Fiddler. Jackman made out with not one, but two puppets, which brings his count to somewhere around sixteen inanimate objects he's violated in the last two years, I believe.
I have just a few minor questions:
---Did anyone else notice the two comedic ploys of the front runners for Best Musical? Sure, Rod was a cute homosexual puppet, but who can beat Chenowith's "Yes, it is good to see me, isn't it?"
---How much of the "Sopranos" population was actually going to switch to the TONY AWARDS? The classy mobsters?
---Why were the Featured Actor/Actress awards presented so early? Last year, Book and Score were presented first, then the Featured categories. It makes very little sense.
---Who in the universe actually wanted to see that stick, Sarah Jessica Parker, gyrate? No one. Except for Jackman.
---Speaking of Jackman, was the "mutant" comment to co-star Paquin just a bit over the top?
---How gorgeous was James Barbour? Really, really effing gorgeous.
---What was my favorite quotes of the evening? Curtsey of I Am My Own Wife writer Doug Wright ("Our entire cast just won Tony Awards!") and producer David Richenthal ("The entire cast: Jefferson Mays, Jefferson Mays, Jefferson Mays and Jefferson Mays.").
Here are some others that rate high on my list:
"Oh, I always loved it. Don't we all? Only miserable sick people don't. It's downright American!" --Carol Channing on rap music
"Do any of you want to know what orchestrations are?" -Michael Starobin, who won the Best Orchestrations category for his work on Assassins
"I think we can now announce that Rod will be replacing Hugh Jackman in The Boy from Oz." --Avenue Q producer Kevin McCollum
"I beat Smarty Jones" --Wicked costume designer Susan Hilferty on winning the triple crown of theater: the Outer Critics Circle Award, the Drama Desk Award and the Tony Award
"I feel like Smarty Jones." --Avenue Q's Jeff Whitty
"In fact, Smarty Jones is coming to our party!" --Avenue Q producer Kevin McCollum
"You know, Hugh, you are a very successful gentleman and I'm an investment banker, so if you ever need anyone to take care of your assetsÂ?" --Rod from Avenue Q
"Deb, if I go to the Avenue Q party, you'll know why." --Hugh Jackman to his wife after Rod's flirtation
"Here is what you missed at our little barbeque: I danced with the Rockettes, a witch came on in a bubble, a lot of Jews danced their way out of Russia, Tony Bennett sang, Harvey Fierstein presented an award, there was swing dancing, a whole bunch of people did a musical number about assassinating presidents and there were puppets in group therapy. It's not TV, it's the Tony Awards."--Hugh Jackman recapping the evening so far for people just tuning in
More later. I have to go rewind the tape and watch again.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
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