This year's Tony broadcast was one of my favorites in years, with less emphasis on the drawn-out technical speeches and a greater spotlight on the performances within the shows themselves, the greatest winner of the evening was Broadway itself. Every showcase of the night.. . save one Grease was inspiring, and a testament to the power of the stage. The very rare standing ovation at the Tonys was granted to Patti LuPone's faster and more powerful than a speeding bullet rendition of "Everything's Coming Up Roses" from "Gypsy". After just digging up an old recording of The Merm performing the same number several Tonys ago, I think that the woman who allegedly could "hold a note longer than the Chase Manhattan Bank" has been throughly shown up by the brassy and glorious mouth of Mrs. Patti-"Shut up- I haven't done this in 29 years!" Lupone.
Even "Cry Baby", a show that I know truly considers itself lucky to be nominated selected a number which focused on Rob Ashford's brilliant choreography and the show's masterful (and 6-pack blessed) male chorus. I felt as if Passing Strange could have chosen a stronger song to perform, rather than the repetitious second part of "Keys", but the cast's energy as directed by Stew was as fine an advertisement as any for the scrappy underdog of a show. Although "In the Heights" and "Passing Strange" were clearly the artistic highlights of the new musical season, in my secret heart of hearts, I was hoping for "Xanadu" to push through and win... anything. It was certainly one of the more entertaining nights I have ever spent in a theatre- of course, seeing Cheyenne Jackson stand onstage in a pair of short-shorts would rank pretty high up in its own right.
Although by its second intermission, and third hour, I was thinking I should have packed a picnic dinner to "August: Osage County", it was fantastic to see an "American show" put on by "theatre actors" triumph so profoundly. Extra kudos to playwright Tracy Letts for inserting this not-so subliminal jab at movie performers gone stage right after Daniel Radcliff presented the award. Not that it's going to stop me from buying tickets to see "Equus" this fall. Oh wait, I already bought them!
On a final note, my living room blanket is now sopping wet following the reunion of the original RENT cast for "Seasons of Love". I think I let out more tears than a PMS-ing girl at a chick flick, as Anthony Rapp gave his introduction. Of course, matters were not aided by the fact that I had already done my share of bawling after Lin-Manuel Miranda won for best score and proceeded to rap out his thanks. Every year, I spend The Oscars greedily hovering over my betting cards, The Grammys rocking out to lip synched tunes, and the Emmys wondering who half the people nominated are. But in mid-June, the tissue box is broken out at The Tonys; as I witness composers, performers, directors, and producers who have given their lives to that institution which I place over democracy and the US appeals system in my heart; the American Theatre.
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