Skiing on Broken Glass, by David Goldstein
Dowling Studio, Guthrie Theater, Minneapolis, MN
October 30, 2013
From the Guthrie Theater's website:
"Mark is a lonely writer still hurting from his partner's death some years before. Then he meets Todd, an enigmatic young male escort whose charm and resilience attract and impress Mark, but whose past remains murky. Soon the two find themselves in an unlikely relationship that neither really understands -- and that will either heal them both or tear them to shreds."
This play was first performed as part of the 2010 Minnesota Fringe Festival, directed by Michelle O'Neill (who plays Edith in this production). In its original form it included only the roles of Mark and Todd and would have been limited to 60 minutes to conform to the Fringe guidelines (and it received a solid rating of 4.5 kitties there with most reviewers giving 5). I think if I would have seen the play in its original form I would have liked it more, though the expanded version (about 90 minutes) creates elements that benefit the play.
The short scenes in the beginning of the play make it feel disjointed and jumpy, an objection that would probably have been moot at the Fringe Festival where the time-lag between scenes would have been minimal. The relationship between Mark and Todd is unlikely at best, but I found it closer to incomprehensible. This version's addition of Edith and Thomas as characters outside the relationship looking in makes the characters examine their relationship from those eyes; the audience is led further into the role of outsider examining the relationship through the architectural motifs within the script and expanded in the set design. In the play, Mark says "loving someone completely is a death-defying act. That it's fraught with such danger that if you stopped to think about it, you'd go running in the other direction. But it's also a kind of miracle ... inexplicable. It's an unguent that can heal old wounds." That's probably true, yet the relationship between the hustler and the Ivy League-educated author is unlikely to be met with approbation by anyone in either of their circles. Examining an unlikely connection leading to healing is a topic that many audience members can relate to, even with the unexpected pairing of grief for a lost love and prostitution in the background.
The ending of the play ties up all loose ends with an artificially-heartwarming bow. The title metaphor, "Skiing on Broken Glass", is finally spoken by Mark and was so awkwardly inserted into otherwise non-metaphorical dialogue as to pull me out of what should have been a climactic moment. Mark tells Todd he's skiing on broken glass and that maybe next time someone like Mark won't be around to pick Todd up when he falls and is shred to ribbons. Todd, who had been passed between foster families and was first paid for sex at age fourteen, continually returns to prostitution for his livelihood even when he is in a long-term relationship with Mark and though he seemingly has many other options as a person. This character and relationship presents many ideas that should have left us feeling conflicted if not convicted. Instead, the audience leaves the play knowing that Todd learns from the relationship with Mark, pulls himself out of his life of prostitution, and turns into an apparently happy and productive member of society. They both heal and move on in their lives successfully. The societal ills presented were conveniently solved by the end of the play. As an avid and thoughtful theatre-goer, that's not what I'm usually looking for.
All of that said, Michael Booth's performance as Mark is worth the price of admission (and Bill McCallum's stuffy British accent is hilarious). "Skiing on Broken Glass" is playing in the Dowling Studio until November 17.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
700 Sundays
700 Sundays
Billy Crystal's Tony-winning one-man show returns to Broadway in November. Its pre-Broadway run opened in Minneapolis tonight. Originally running in 2004, and based on Crystal's autobiography of the same title, the show primarily tells the story of Crystal's relationship with his father with a sideline of jazz history. As a boy, Crystal's favorite day of the week was Sunday because of the time spent with his father. As he died when young Billy was 15, he estimates they only had about 700 of these times together.
by Billy Crystal
State Theatre, Minneapolis, MN
October 22, 2013
Billy Crystal tells a good story. Who knew?

The first act of the evening shows off Billy Crystal's virtuosic timing and impressions. We laughed again and again. In the second act, however, Crystal's sentimental side comes out. In telling of his father's death, his subsequent guilt and mourning, and then his mother's death nearly forty years later, he brought the audience to tears. The very moving story, while uniquely his, carries all the elements of universality which allow it to resonate with any audience member who has experienced loss.
The book is a good read, but the performance adds all the sparkly elements of Billy Crystal an audience who has seen his film or award-show-hosting performances would expect. We laughed, we cried, we saw a comedy genius at his best. Five performances left in Minneapolis before the Broadway transfer!
Sunday, October 20, 2013
An Iliad
And now for something completely different...
An Iliad, by Lisa Peterson and Denis O'Hare
Adapted from Homer, translation by Robert Fagles
Dowling Studio, Guthrie Theater, Minneapolis, MN
October 20, 2013
You may be thinking to yourselves (if you're still reading this...and I'm unconvinced I have any readers beyond my mom and sister) that I've lost my mind this week. There are currently more blog entries in October than in all the rest of 2013 combined, and most of them come from the last week. I've made a rule that I won't hang up a playbill in my classroom until I've written a blog entry about it. There have been times when I've found myself with either nothing or too much to say--and so I've said nothing. At any rate, I had a pile of about twenty programs on my desk at the end of the summer, so I vowed to do better this school year. So far, so good.
Usually I like to see a show at the beginning of its run so that I can recommend it to others (or warn them away from it). An Iliad played at the Guthrie originally in May and then was reprised in October. Not only did I wait until October to see it, I saw the final performance of the run. If I had come to this show earlier, I would have known to encourage my Humanities class to see it. An Iliad presents the violence of the Trojan War--and all wars--in a way that makes the audience picture and relate to it. It would be foolish to program a one-man show if the actor were not equal to the task, and Stephen Yoakam delivers a tour de force as The Poet. One of the most effecting portions of the performance came in the epic catalogue of war where Yoakam listed all wars and conflicts from the Trojan War to the present day. The emotional impact of violence, rage, and the ugliness of war and parts of human history were heightened and the audience was compelled not to let either mythology or the intervening centuries dull its horror.
I would have liked to bring my students to this, and that's not always a compliment I give to plays. When do we get to hear epic poetry as told by a single poet any more?
An Iliad, by Lisa Peterson and Denis O'Hare
Adapted from Homer, translation by Robert Fagles
Dowling Studio, Guthrie Theater, Minneapolis, MN
October 20, 2013
You may be thinking to yourselves (if you're still reading this...and I'm unconvinced I have any readers beyond my mom and sister) that I've lost my mind this week. There are currently more blog entries in October than in all the rest of 2013 combined, and most of them come from the last week. I've made a rule that I won't hang up a playbill in my classroom until I've written a blog entry about it. There have been times when I've found myself with either nothing or too much to say--and so I've said nothing. At any rate, I had a pile of about twenty programs on my desk at the end of the summer, so I vowed to do better this school year. So far, so good.

I would have liked to bring my students to this, and that's not always a compliment I give to plays. When do we get to hear epic poetry as told by a single poet any more?
Matilda (birthday, part two)
Matilda the Musical
Book by Dennis Kelly, Music and lyrics by Tim Minchin
Based on the book by Roald Dahl
Schubert Theatre, New York, NY
October 19, 2013 8:00pm
It wasn't my plan to see Matilda the Musical on this trip, but I knew I wanted a two-show birthday and I wanted to really enjoy the second. I saw Matilda in London in 2012 and knew, therefore, it would fit the bill. Added bonus: somehow I came back from London without my show programme, so this was a chance to remedy that and get a poster for my classroom. The NY production doesn't have the rest of the clever merchandise available in London, but I'll let that go for now.
Matilda is funny, charming, and infectious. The book and music capture Dahl's twisted wit in unexpected ways. The set and lighting add cleverly to the mood, and the production comes together as an enjoyable whole. Though the audience was mostly children, as one might expect, I was surrounded by adults who were captivated. I feared some of the sparkle from the London production would not have made the transatlantic transfer, and I think this might have been true at the top of the show. Certainly there were several jokes that got much bigger laughs from a European audience and there were certain cultural understandings the NY audience lacked. While Matilda is not the phenomenon on Broadway it was on the West End, overall the transfer was successful.
I've been singing "Revolting Children" all morning and will add the cast album to my library when I'm off this airplane to Minneapolis and back in the world of wifi.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Big Fish (birthday, part one)
Big Fish
Book by John August, Music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa
Neil Simon Theatre, New York, NY
October 19, 2013 2:00pm

My skepticism had a couple of causes: first, I didn't love the film version of Big Fish. I liked it; I thought it was fine. These aren't big reasons for me to seek out a show. But the main reason I was unsure is Music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa. I saw The Addams Family with students in 2011, and there were some great things about that show. We loved Rachel Potter as Wednesday Addams; Bebe Neuwirth; I got to meet Heidi Blickenstaff for a second time; and the Addams family are quirky and beloved characters. But with some notable bright spots, the music is mostly insipid. I found myself repeatedly wishing I could subtly look at my program to figure out how much more I had to sit through.
With those reservations, I was understandably unsure about Big Fish. By the end of the opening number, I saw the production is beautiful. The choreography and direction is seamless, the costumes clever, and the characters engaging. The music didn't hit all the right emotional notes, but it was adequate.
By the end of the second act, however, none of that mattered. The heart of this story as told by these actors is composer-proof. There was a point where I found myself with tears running freely down my face, wondering how to surreptitiously get tissues out of my purse. The only sounds from the audience were sniffles and sobs from all around. At the end of the day, we all cared much more about Edward Bloom and his son Will than about any flaws in the production or score. In terms of emotional impact, this show captured its audience more than any other I've seen in a while. See it when you have the chance.
And if you get to see Norbert as Edward Bloom, so much the better for you.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Newsies - The One without Christian Bale
Newsies
Music by Alan Menken, Lyrics by Jack Feldman, Book by Harvey Fierstein
Based on the film written by Bob Tzudiker and Noni White
Nederlander Theatre, New York, NY
October 18, 2013
Let's be honest: if you didn't like the 1992 film Newsies starring Christian Bale, Bill Pullman, Robert Duvall, and Ann-Margret, you're not going to like the stage version, either. But if that's true, we're probably not friends and you're likely not reading this.
Waiting to get into the theatre tonight, I was singing arguably the worst song in the film: "High Times, Hard Times." I knew this song didn't make the cut for the stage version, but it was the one stubbornly stuck in my head while waiting for the show to begin. The replacement version, "That's Rich", is arguably better, but the best songs in the show are some of those that were originally in the film. Making Joseph Pulitzer a singing character was a good choice, but turning him occasionally silly is unnecessary at best.

From the purely selfish perspective of a high school theatre director, I wish the stage version had found ways to incorporate more women. This production has a cast of 28, large by Broadway standards. Four of the twenty-eight are women, with three of the women playing two roles. This is not viable for my students, even if I just cast some of the newsies as girls. In a show that high school kids go crazy for (and they were the main demographic in the audience tonight), this is disappointing.
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(I went back for a better marquee pic) |
As my friend Beth has pointed out, there is no counting the number of times we watched this movie in high school. As a fan of the film, the stage version does not disappoint. The singing was strong, the choreography exciting, and the familiar songs lit up the audience. There are a few self-serving script changes I would make, but they didn't diminish an enjoyable evening of musical theatre.
Pippin
The Music Box, New York, NY
October 17, 2013
When I came back from London and found a different production of Pippin opening on Broadway, my reactions were mixed. 1)Ooh, but the video game was so much cleverer than the too-obvious circus. 2) So much Pippin right now! For a show that nearly disappeared after the '70s, it's making quite the resurgence. 3)I really liked the version I grew up watching on video disc with William Katt and Ben Vereen. (That third reaction was less germane to the story...but who doesn't like remembering videodiscs? Nostalgia, see?)
My reactions were not mixed after seeing the Tony-winning production at The Music Box. A combination of Cirque du Soleil and musical theatre, from a performance standpoint not much could be more visually stunning. Twirling, twisting, climbing, juggling--with and without fire, upside-down singing: Pippin has it all. Patina Miller as the Leading Player is a rock star. I've had an inexplicable crush on Terrence Mann since the film version of A Chorus Line, and he played an interesting Charles. Matthew James Thomas as Pippin was adorable, but at times his singing was drowned out by the orchestra. As in the London production (and probably all good productions) Pippin's grandmother Berthe stole the show. Tovah Feldshuh singing "No Time at All" while swinging upside-down on a trapeze is not something to be missed.
While I still think the London production was conceptually cooler, this production is much more fully-realized and engaging. The bits of circus acrobatics alone are worth the price of the ticket, but any day that includes "Corner of the Sky", "Simple Joys", and "With You" is a better one.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Tribes
Tribes, by Nina Raine
Guthrie Theater
October 15, 2013
When I started this blog, I said that I am fully determined to enjoy every show I see. Some I love. Some make me think. Some are also things that I see, but they're an enjoyable way to spend the evening nonetheless.
Tonight I was tested.
Tribes is challenging, provocative, and occasionally difficult. From the beginning the profanity is almost shocking (as one of the actors said in the post-show discussion: "We hit you right out of the gate with the C U Next Tuesday, didn't we?"). The oldest man alive, with whom I shared an armrest tonight, didn't enjoy this, and I could feel him physically cringing away from the stage often during Act I. The set is amazing (more than 28,000 books carved from styrofoam, I'm told). The details are extraordinary. Two of my favorite Guthrie actors are in it. I still found myself detached from the story for the better part of an hour.
Until the final scene in the first act, when one of the characters plays the piano. Then it had me.
Tribes is primarily a story about family and communication, and it brings to the fore the difficulties often therein contained. One son, Billy, is deaf; another, Danny, hears voices and begins to stammer more and more as the play goes on; the daughter, Ruth, the only non-writer in the family, is finding her voice in singing opera; and the parents are intellectuals often embroiled in a battle of wits with each other and/or their children. At the beginning of the play, all three children, in their twenties, have returned home to live with their parents, causing even more tension.
This play details Billy's struggles as a deaf man brought up in a hearing family. When he meets Sylvia, brought up in a deaf family but losing her hearing in her twenties, he finally feels he has found a place--his tribe. She teaches him sign language which he feels allows him expression, rather than trying to always take everything in through lip-reading as he had grown up doing in his family.
I would not have enjoyed this play as I did without the post-play discussion. The actors articulated beautifully the struggles of each of their characters. John McGinty, making his Guthrie debut in Tribes, is deaf and talked about some of his own experiences communicating in a mostly hearing world. The poignant familial and familiar clashes resonate uncomfortably, regardless of one's individual experiences. Admittedly I found some of the scenes disjointed (perhaps that would be different if reading the script), but overall the evening was worthwhile. The warnings about strong language are serious--but I still wouldn't hesitate to bring my high school students to see it. Try to go to a performance with a post-play discussion.
Tribes is playing until November 10.
Guthrie Theater
October 15, 2013
When I started this blog, I said that I am fully determined to enjoy every show I see. Some I love. Some make me think. Some are also things that I see, but they're an enjoyable way to spend the evening nonetheless.
Tonight I was tested.
Tribes is challenging, provocative, and occasionally difficult. From the beginning the profanity is almost shocking (as one of the actors said in the post-show discussion: "We hit you right out of the gate with the C U Next Tuesday, didn't we?"). The oldest man alive, with whom I shared an armrest tonight, didn't enjoy this, and I could feel him physically cringing away from the stage often during Act I. The set is amazing (more than 28,000 books carved from styrofoam, I'm told). The details are extraordinary. Two of my favorite Guthrie actors are in it. I still found myself detached from the story for the better part of an hour.
Until the final scene in the first act, when one of the characters plays the piano. Then it had me.
Tribes is primarily a story about family and communication, and it brings to the fore the difficulties often therein contained. One son, Billy, is deaf; another, Danny, hears voices and begins to stammer more and more as the play goes on; the daughter, Ruth, the only non-writer in the family, is finding her voice in singing opera; and the parents are intellectuals often embroiled in a battle of wits with each other and/or their children. At the beginning of the play, all three children, in their twenties, have returned home to live with their parents, causing even more tension.
This play details Billy's struggles as a deaf man brought up in a hearing family. When he meets Sylvia, brought up in a deaf family but losing her hearing in her twenties, he finally feels he has found a place--his tribe. She teaches him sign language which he feels allows him expression, rather than trying to always take everything in through lip-reading as he had grown up doing in his family.
I would not have enjoyed this play as I did without the post-play discussion. The actors articulated beautifully the struggles of each of their characters. John McGinty, making his Guthrie debut in Tribes, is deaf and talked about some of his own experiences communicating in a mostly hearing world. The poignant familial and familiar clashes resonate uncomfortably, regardless of one's individual experiences. Admittedly I found some of the scenes disjointed (perhaps that would be different if reading the script), but overall the evening was worthwhile. The warnings about strong language are serious--but I still wouldn't hesitate to bring my high school students to see it. Try to go to a performance with a post-play discussion.
Tribes is playing until November 10.
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