the craptacular

So, there’s a lot happening onstage at the Broadhurst Theatre right now, and his name is Hugh Jackman. All the critics lost their shit over his solo show, Hugh Jackman Back on Broadway, and with good reason. It’s more or less irresistible, thanks to Hugh’s charm and unstoppable — and nearly indescribable handsomeness.

But amidst all the disco medleys and costume changes, which, incidentally, only Hugh could pull off without being totally annoying, there is a bit of real, substantial theater. It comes at the end of the first act, when Hugh sings “Soliloquy,” which is basically the greatest theater song of all time.

Rodgers and Hammerstein’s tour-de-force from Carouselgives us Billy Bigelow — musical theater’s original sensitively brutish studmuffin — as he ponders fatherhood and ultimately his own personhood. But how do you pitch this song to a savvy, modern audience? It’s seven minutes long, it requires some pre-song setup, it’s hard to do with any kind of authority and power, and it’s so damn straightforward. It’s not cute or glib. With all its aggressively anti-postmodern leanings, you’d think that the average blockbuster action star would just stay away from it. (And what other popular star could even consider singing it? Josh Groban?)

But alas, Hugh Jackman is not an easily intimidated sort of dude. So here we have his “Soliloquy.” Ernest and vivid, it is a highlight of Hugh Jackman Back on Broadway. There’s no video of it on YouTube yet (Girls, get on that.), so here’s a clip of Hugh singing the song at Carnegie Hall a few years ago — a career highlight that he discusses fondly in his show. Watching this, even the most cynical among us are bound to feel a little swoony.

Your name is Jeremy Jordan. You are the star of the Broadway musical Bonnie & Clyde. You are very handsome in a weird way and sing like a dream, and have extremely shapely and appealing forearms. You are Broadway’s hottest new thing, and you try to be humble about it, but honestly, you think it’s kind of fucking cool and you’re already writing your Tony Awards speech and mentally preparing your mom for that moment when you inevitably turn up in People Magazine’s 50 Most Beautiful People as the token Broadway person. You are about to have an interesting season. Correction: You are already having an interesting season. Your immediate future, however, is a little up in the air, thanks to the fact that you are so damn popular and square-jawed and deeply, deeply in demand. Now, you must choose your fate. Consider each of the following possible scenarios, several of which neglect minor complicating factors like contracts, the law, personal loyalties, reality, and basic common sense:

Scenario 1: Bonnie & Clyde opens on Broadway and Flops and Closes Instantly

Do you:

Go down with the ship.

Quit before it closes for maximum dramz, a la Will Chase.

Scenario 2: Bonnie & Clyde Becomes a Runaway Hit That Will Apparently Play Forever, Like Cats

Do you:

Stay in the show, because you’d be an idiot not to.

Quit, because true artists follow their hearts.

Scenario 3: Bonnie & Clyde Gets Slammed, But You in Particular Get Raves

Do you:

Stay in the show, because if you don’t, the guilt will kill you.

Quit. Because fuck it.

Scenario 4: Bonnie & Clyde is a Mixed Bag, Critically and Commercially

Do you:

Stay, after much hand-wringing.

Quit, after much hand-wringing.

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Adventures below. Don’t peek!

(And now, we’re in love.)

I mean, you had to know we were going to use a shirtless snap.

Last night was Blogger Night at Seminar on Broadway. We’ve been looking forward to Seminar for months—It’s about writers just like us!  It stars Alan Rickman! We have a huge crush on Lily Rabe! And Hamish Linklater!—so to say we were excited last night is a bit of an understatement.

After the show we had a few minutes to chat with star Jerry O’Connell, who is making his Broadway debut, and who, if we’re honest, we have a crush on too. Especially after last night. Below, some highlights.

• Jerry is like a very tall, very handsome puppy. He was so excited to talk to us, so excited about the show, so excited about being back in New York. It was killing us in such a good way.
• He is also apparently a bit of a Theresa Rebeck fanboy. Jerry told us he’s been hoping/praying/begging/auditioning for roles in Theresa’s work for ages and ages. There’s something amazingly comforting in hearing an actor talk about their love for a writer and her words.
• Speaking of words—that thing this whole play was about—Lucky asked Jerry if he’d ever had an experience like his character Douglas had in the play, where he received very harsh criticism of his work to his face. Jerry’s answer was priceless. To paraphrase: “In LA? With actors? Nope. Not with that kind of elegant language.”
• Jerry also shared an adorable anecdote about his family—he’s married to Rebecca Romijn and they have 3-year-old twin daughters Dolly and Charlie.  On a recent day off, he and Rebecca took the girls to the Central Park Zoo and FAO Schwartz. On the way home, they had their first subway ride. When they arrived at their stop and departed the train, one of the girls was distressed to be leaving and going home. “I want to live on the subway!” she said. Jerry’s response? “That can be arranged. But if that’s what we’re aiming for, could you maybe let me know now? It will save us a lot of money on tuition and stuff.”
• Other fun facts Jerry shared: Alan Rickman has a habit of picking up the tab when they go out, possibly with all of his “Harry Potter money.” And on the aforementioned nights out, Hamish Linklater and Lily Rabe often battle over the evening’s juke box selections because they both have specific ideas about the tone for the evening. Also, Hamish loves The Stones.

Well, thank God that’s over. This week, we mean. Here’s some stuff we’ll be talking about when we’re not busy sleeping or… sleeping.

• Much to our dismay delight… something… Norbert Leo Butz has been cast as a child molester in the Pulitzer Prize-winning How I Learned to Drive, which will play at Second Stage in January. Thumbs up for Pulitzer Prizes and Norbert Leo Butz. Thumbs down for child molesters, and the worrisome thought that Norbert is just not playing sexy characters right now.
• Godspell opened to some less-than-glowing reviews this week, but the big news on the interwebs was the show’s designated live correspondant, @BroadwaySpotted. She took to the airwaves(?) with some choice words, not about the show, but about two members of the opening night audience. Apparently Andrew Rannells and Gavin Creel — great courters of controversy, those two — weren’t clapping correctly… or enough… or… we don’t really know. The entire screed was captured on Twitter, but alas, it has been deleted. If only it could be deleted from our fond, collective memory.
• Bonnie & Clyde stars Laura Osnes and Jeremy Jordan posed in costume in TimeOut New York this week holding mixed drinks. Our favorite: The cover shot of Clyde Barrow in a death grip with a Bloody Mary. Apparently there’s no stylish New York City bar cocktail called Moonshine in a Jug.
• In an event that combines two of our favorite things, handsome men and alcohol, Aaron Tveit — remember him? — will guest bartend for a charity event next week. He’d better start studying the manual on how to create The Craptacular’s favorite beverage: Body Shots On Aaron’s Abs.
• Of all the semi-awkward rehearsal photos of Aaron Carter in The Addams Family The Fantasticks, this one is our absolute favorite. Someone please make a meme. Please.
• Sarah Silverman joined Seth Rudetsky this week to sing some showtunes, including “On My Own” — utterly amazing for many, many reasons, but especially because the effect is sort of like… Sarah playing Eponine playing Eponine. Behold.
• In news from across the pond, Michael Ball and Imelda Staunton will play Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett on the West End this spring. We will, of course, be referring this entire affair as though it were a UK version of Patti & Mandy, and will simply call it Marius & Professor Umbridge.

About ¾ of the way through the second act of The Rehearsal: Playing the Dane, the actors playing Laertes and Hamlet decided it was necessary to pause and take their shirts off before a sword fight. Smiling like the Cheshire cat in my seat I couldn’t help but think… Damn, this show really WAS written for me!

I’d suspected this from the moment I entered the theater to see the cast on stage with a giant Great Dane lolloping about around them.  And I continued to feel this way as the text of Hamlet exploded before me, pieced back together in an inventive, insightful new way with each scene. But by the time the second and third boys took their shirts off—the first had removed his in the first act—I was certain.  Because three handsome shirtless men speaking Shakespeare’s absolutely beautiful words in Irish/British accents is usually only something that happens in my dreams.

But this wasn’t a dream. No, Pan Pan Theatre’s production of The Rehearsal, which has taken over the Skirball Center at NYU this weekend, was reality. And it was wonderful.

The Rehearsal is an insightful exploration of Hamlet and the creation of theater, and the ways in which those things resonate in our modern lives. It explodes the text, the audition process, and the audience’s relationship to a performance before your eyes.  And it involves some really cute boys.

To further attempt to summarize or explain the show—to boil it down to a simple explanation of events—would do a disservice to the material, I think.  To be honest, I’m not even entirely certain I’ve sorted through all the layers on layers within The Rehearsal yet. I’m not sure what it all means to me. But I do know I had an amazing theater experience last night, and that my brain is buzzing today, and that’s both rare and worth recommending.

The Rehearsal is only here for three more days, so I suggest you hurry down to the Skirball Center and snag some tickets while you can.

Thank God.

That’s what I kept thinking over and over at my seat in the Circle in the Square. And not because my lapsed Catholic self was suddenly feeling faithful again. No. I was just relieved this production of Godspell didn’t suck.  Because there is nothing worse than a bad show that ends with a crucifixion. Nothing. (Shit! Sorry. Spoiler alert: Jesus dies. You know, like he does in every single Gospel in the New Testament. Godspell is a plotless sort of re-telling of the stories of the Gospel of Matthew, after all.)

But before that public death scene, this production of Godspell—staged by Daniel Goldstein as a sort of… kindergarten class putting on an impromptu playground pageant directed by their classmate Jesus—is a heck of a joyride. From the magical, breathless moment that John the Baptist breaks through the darkness and confusion of the “Tower of Babel” scene, like a river breaking through a dam, and through the beginning of the second act, it’s hard to wipe the smile off your face. Or keep from singing along (in fact, the drunk women in the second row actually couldn’t stop themselves).

There are moments where the enthusiasm wears thin—you’ll catch them when Hunter’s beautiful smile becomes sort of… aggressively happy to the point of manic.  And sometimes the fun doesn’t entirely make sense, like the trampolines in “We Beseech Thee.” There are moments you wish they’d just get to the next wonderful song, too. But it’s really, really hard to stay mad at this talented cast.

Lindsay Mendez can belt to melt your face off. And Telly Leung moved me to tears with his rendition of “All Good Gifts.” Nick Blaemire’s slapstick comedy is genuinely wonderful, particularly when he’s paired with the equally zany Julia Mattison (an understudy who performed for the injured Morgan James throughout previews). Wallace Smith’s Judas is strong, and his “On the Willows” will actually break your heart.  It’s seriously a shame he’s getting upstaged by the Last Supper at this point… you should take a second to watch his performance if you can.

And then, there’s Hunter Parrish. Jesus Christ, Hunter Parrish. The boy is resplendent. He’s got 600 million teeth in his face and you can see all of them at almost all times because he’s smiling so damn big and light is radiating off him like he really is the sun and not just someone playing the Son of God. He can’t dance for shit but it’s so amazingly adorable to watch him give it his all that you kind of don’t even care.

His performance is, admittedly, imperfect.  The aforementioned moments where his smile verges on manic are a little disconcerting. But Hunter is at his strongest after Jesus’ ridiculous temper tantrum in “Alas for You” (worst song!), when he can be vulnerable. In particular, his “Beautiful City” is deeply heartfelt and his Last Supper farewells are heartbreaking.

But let’s be real. For a show about Jesus, Godspell isn’t really about Jesus at all. And with that beautiful smile of Hunter’s and the talented cast goofing off around him, this production is pretty hard to resist.

Photo: Jeremy Daniel

So. The Craptacular went on a bit of a trip recently, hopping across the Atlantic Sea to ogle some cute boys with even cuter accents, drink some beer, and see some theatre. With an re.

And it was a bit of a debacle.  We’re not just talking flight delays here, either—though we had several of those, too—no, we’re talking missed shows and failed ticket buying attempts and ending up at a show we could have seen in New York City without that pesky trans-Atlantic flight.

But we here at The Craptacular made lemons out of lemonade. Or lemonade out of lemons, or whatever the British would say in this circumstance.  And we’ve decided to share what we learned so that you, dear theater-going tourist, don’t make the same mistakes we did.

Below a list of things you should NOT do.  Because London Theatre is not the same as New York Theater, and we aren’t just saying that because they spell things funny over there.

Do not roll into the country with no tickets.
Obvious, right? Yeah. You’d think. Except, we basically did just that. Because sorting out when/where/how to get tickets while we were still in New York wasn’t entirely straightforward. And because we’d both just figured… if we wanted to see something old like Les Mis, we’d be fine anyway. And because with the exception of The Book of Mormon, it’s been like a decade since we had trouble getting tickets for any show on Broadway at the exact moment we wanted them, without much advance planning.

Not so much in London, y’all. The theatres are different, the audience is different, and the ways in which you buy tickets are different, too. It’s not as simple as rolling up to TKTS at 7:30pm and seeing what you can see that night. Plus, living all the way over here, you’re probably not tapped into exactly what the numbers are like for every single show at every given moment, so you might, for example, not realize that Les Mis is selling out all the damn time.  Speaking of which…

Do not assume you live on a planet in which Les Mis cannot possibly be sold out every night 26 years after opening.
Because fuck if you don’t live on that planet right this very minute. That damn show—starring the dashing Hadley Fraser, who we really wanted to see, as the youngest Inspector Javert in the history of France—is selling out the house nightly. They even sell standing room tickets like it is The Book of Mormon, only French and Catholic and less funny. Les Mis is doing some big freaking business over there on the West End, y’all.

We attempted to grab a handful of tickets from one of the Leicester Square ticket discounters on Friday night around 7pm and were laughed off the premises. Apparently they’d run out by 10:15 am that morning. You know, around the time we were chilling in a plane at 38,000 feet, trying to sleep. Then, we figured we could just hit TKTS and/or the box office and find at least something.  Yeah. Not so much.  Both of those attempts left us empty handed as well. First and foremost because…

Do not assume TKTS works the same way.
It does not. And we don’t just mean it is lacking the glowing red steps or the flashy live ticker that keeps a tally of which shows still have tickets available in real time. We mean TKTS is a different sort of operation in London entirely. One that closes well before show time.

In New York, we’re used to knowing at least generally what’s up on the board because we’re tapped into all the theater news here. But more importantly, we’re also used to rolling up to the booth about 15 minutes before curtain and snagging tickets for something we want to see. Not so in London, y’all. Because the booth will not still be open that close to show time. In fact, it will send all its stock back to the theater an hour before curtain and you will roll up to an empty window and be completely shit out of luck on a Friday night—one of only three possible theatre slots for the weekend.

And last but not least, after you fail to get tickets for anything on Friday night…

Do not go drinking instead of going back to buy some damn tickets first.
Because you will wake up early the next morning—after a late night that involved WAY too much beer and cider—and haul your possibly-still-intoxicated ass down to Leicester Square and you will continue to be shit out of luck on those Les Mis tickets. And worse, you will realize you could have prevented that by going back to Leicester Square to buy tickets for the next day before you had started drinking.

Because that is a pretty cool advantage of buying theatre tickets in London. Not only is TKTS not the only game in town for discounted theatre tickets–there lots of options for buying them on the pedestrian blocks that lead into Leicester Square–but everyone can sell those cheap tickets to you in advance.  That’s right. You don’t actually have to wait for the day of the show and just deal with whatever happens to still be in stock.

You can show up days or weeks in advance (and sometimes even earlier) and grab cheap tickets for whatever you’d like to see at your leisure. Without the agida of standing in line as minutes tick by while other tourists debate their deep emotional feelings about Wicked versus Blood Brothers and  you know each second means less tickets are available for that show you really want to see. And without the histrionics and the huffing and puffing and foot stomping and watch checking and whining that your really impatient redheaded friend is going to pull. The. Entire. Time.

So there you have it. Four things you really, really shouldn’t do if you want to see tons of theatre while you’re in London.

With all that said...
It’s probably only fair to point out that we had an amazing weekend anyway.  Tube delays and ticket buying failure and missed shows and all. Even without Hadley Fraser’s teenaged Javert Jr. in our lives.

Because the shows we did manage to see were wonderful. And the beer was delicious and the V&A has a great exhibit on theatre costumes and Borough Market exists in that beautiful city. And because there was plenty of time to see the most Craptacular site in all of London, and perhaps, all of the world—Princess Diana and Dodi al Fayed’s memorial in the completely bedazzled Egyptian Escalator at Harrods.

But seriously. Next time we’re picking all our shows and buying all of our tickets in advance.

Y’all. Someone gave us an amplifier!

No, but seriously. We were extremely honored to be invited to speak as a part of the Public Lab Thursday Night Speaker Series on a panel entitled “What Are The Kids Calling It These Days?” after last night’s performance of Love’s Labor’s Lost.  We joined author Jane Berentson and actors Nick Westrate and Michelle Beck on the stage and talked a bit about how young people communicate today.  Below, some highlights:

• Nick Westrate. I mean, I’m just leading with the boy here. Not even gonna try to hide it. Because his performance in Love’s Labor’s Lost was mesmerizing—honestly, we couldn’t take our eyes off him, even when we were probably supposed to—and he’s real cute, and after last night I totally want to see every show he’s ever in from here on out. I’m even mad at myself for missing stuff he’s done in the past. Also, I have to say it… enormous lady boner for this boy. Really. If you don’t know him already, you have got to get into it. He’s incredible!
• Karin Coonrod’s athletic, modern production. LLL runs 2 hours and 10 minutes with no intermission and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t walk into the theater more than a little concerned. But by the time the Princess of France and her crew came on the scene in Act II and performed some throwback New Kids on the Block choreography, I knew my fears were all for naught. The show incorporated modern touches without being overwrought and the frequently hilarious, always high energy performances made the time fly.
• The Panel. It was really fun, you guys! I hope the audience felt like they got something out of it after all our chatter about blogging and the internet (and Hanson) and how without those things, Lucky and I would never be friends, let alone sitting up on that stage last night. It was great to have a chance to talk about how central blogging has become to our lives, and the ways in which we process the world around us.
• My favorite moment of the panel had nothing to do with us, though.  It was when Nick and Michelle both confessed to reading everything—reviews, blogs, etc.—written about them.  It was awesome! Seriously. Actors always pull this BS about how they never read reviews and I always want to call shenanigans because… What, do you live in a vacuum? Do you have a contract all your friends and acquaintances must sign promising they’ll never even mention reviews, even in passing or in obtuse ways? Do you hire people to turn off all media when you enter a room? Do you have super-human self-control so that once you’ve gotten a whiff of the buzz out there you can keep from consuming every piece ever written? I don’t believe you! Which is why it was so fun to hear Nick and Michelle say otherwise so frankly.
• Nella Vera—Director of Marketing at the Public and moderator of our panel—revealed the Public’s official policy for internet chatter/commentary on social media. Basically, they never quell the discussion unless it moves into personal attack/bullying territory. How refreshing! The very nature of the internet and social media make it almost impossible to exert control, anyway. But to hear the Public embracing the medium so openly is exciting and hopefully, a sign of things to come in the theater world at large.
• After the panel we grabbed a quick drink and chatted with Mr. Westrate, who is as charming and hilarious offstage as he is on. He’s also far too self-deprecating for his own good. Not sure what he’s seeing in the mirror, but I choose him over Matt Cavenaugh any day and three times on Saturday. The fact that when we tweeted about him there was instantaneous response last night tells me the man has more fans than he realizes, so, you guys better mobilize and build him an internet shrine ASAP!

We may be n00bs to the West End scene but it doesn’t take long for The Craptacular to identify hotties wherever we go.  Below, a cursory list of handsome, talented, wildly attractive men who work the West End for theatre (theater) lovers on both sides of the pond.

	David Thaxton Angel-faced, Welsh-born David Thaxton spent a bunch of time fake-marching in the chorus of Les Miserables and eventually was promoted to the role of Enjolras, but it was his role as Giorgio in the Donmar Warehouse’s production of Passion in 2010 that won him accolades, and an Olivier Award for Best Actor in a Musical. He spent much of 2011 playing Mean Old Raoul in Love Never Dies, and is the single cutest person you’ve ever seen. He is also, naturally, in a band.
	Ramin Karimloo The only non-British entry on our list, Ramin Karimloo is actually from Toronto, but he could be from the moon for all we care, because his nearly indescribable hotness transcends all boundaries of nationality, and we think that most of the UK and Cameron Mackintosh agree. Sir Cameron agrees so heartily that he’s looking for reasons to cast Ramin in every role ever imagined, including the Phantom (twice), Chris in the Miss Saigon movie that may never happen, and Jean Valjean in Les Miserables. We expect an announcement that he’ll be playing Eponine in 2013. In the meantime, we’ll just endlessly re-watch the Les Miserables 25th Anniversary Concert, where he plays a very forceful Enjolras, and wait for him to tweet new photos of his mesmerizing tattoos.
	Tom Riley Oh, Tom Riley. All it takes is one performance in one movie that appeals to to a certain type of besotted young woman, and voila, a fandom is born. For Tom, that movie is Lost in Austen. Throw in a role as Septimus Hodge in Arcadia – the sexiest stage character who does nothing sexy, except talk – et voila, a heartthrob is born. He also stars on Monroe, a British medical drama that may or may not be awesome, but we’ve never seen it. But now that we’ve just mentioned it, we’re guessing that those aforementioned fans will all tell us how we do so by defying several international broadcasting rules. Bring it, girls. For Tom, we’re willing to become outlaws.
	Hadley Fraser Hadley Fraser is about to become a huge star for several reasons, but here’s the most pressing one: He plays Raoul in the 25th anniversary concert of The Phantom of the Opera, a concert that is sure to be broadcast around the world and used as bait to get your grandmother to donate some bank to her local public broadcasting station. Once she catches a glimpse of Hadley and his pretty blue eyes, we’re guessing that she’ll give generously.
	Simon Shorten He’s barely 27, which qualifies him more as the Phetus of the Opera than any kind of Phantom. Except, you know, his Phantom is so sexy that we were squirming in our seats up in the Royal Circle at Her Majesty’s Theatre. Which is ten kinds of fucked up, we know. But screw it. If you can make a girl want to push Christine off the stage and bang the Phantom in front of an audience, you’ve really got it. And we really, really want it.
	Jonathan Williams Usually its bad news when a man makes a girl cry. Not so when that man is playing Jean Valjean in Les Miserables. And damn did Williams make The Mick cry with that angel voice of his. Williams is also strapping, with a beautiful mane of curls that you could really grab hold of in the throes of… uhm… ANYWAY. Making a big stir as a Valjean understudy (today, he’s the alternate) is some pretty serious business so we assume this Welsh hottie will be a big star in 5, 4, 3…
	Tom Mison Never in the history of beards has a beard been as sexy as it was on the face of Tom Mison when he played Prince Hal in Henry IV at the Theatre Royal Bath. And if a face full of that scruffy stuff—seriously, I’m getting stubble burn around my mouth just looking at it—can’t make Mison unsexy, then there’s pretty much nothing on this earth that can. It’s probably those big blue eyes. Or maybe it was his sweet, bumbling, occasionally intoxicated Bingley in Lost in Austen. Whatever the case, Mison makes the hot list for eternity, obvs.
	Killian Donnelly I don’t even think we need to tell you how we feel about Irish accents. Put one on a boy with floppy blonde hair, a great sense of humor and a big ass voice and you have tailor made the sexiest person The Mick can even dream up. Okay, so his Raoul in Phantom proved he can’t really dance. We’ll forgive him that foible and make sure we take plenty of lessons before the wedding because if we ever get our hands on this man, you better believe he’s never getting away.
	Eddie Redmayne With those piercing eyes and beautiful cheekbones, Redmayne didn’t even need to win a Tony (for his role in Red) to win our hearts. Smart and talented enough to command the stage–he’s set to play Richard II in… Richard II at the Donmar–but beautiful enough to model for Burberry, Redmayne was an obvious choice for this list. Sure, he’s so thin one good thrust of the hips could break him, but that doesn’t stop us from wanting to take that risk.
	Oliver Thornton Okay, so we know very little about Oliver Thornton, but we’ve seen the photos, and… we may never need to know more.

Photos: Riley – Ian Phillips-McLaren, Fraser www.hadleyfraser.com, Shorten – www.simon-shorten.com, Mison –  Nobby Clark, Redmayne – www.venicemag.com, Thornton – Lee Jenkins for Out Magazine