Okay, so, Inside Universal is getting the first draft of my theater reactions before they hit BlueSky --
Death Becomes Her is a riot and absolute delight. No, it's not high art, and it won't change your life, but it's a great night out. Stupendously delicious performances. Gnarly (and tongue-in-cheek) effects. Silly and catchy songs.Belated movie adaptations are often a miss, but this one’s a winner.
Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club is where I (successfully) proposed to my fiance, so I am a bit biased. We had the understudies for Emcee and Sally going in (we knew this ahead of time), and they were terrific - no celebrity pomp, just pure and fiery and authentic performances. Apparently the entire theater staff was aware of our engagement, so we did admittedly receive quite a lot of special treatment. I sprung for the stageside dining at the center table nearest the stage, but we also received complimentary additional cocktails, deserts, and souvenirs. The immersive preshow was more involved and captivating than I expected and did a great job spreading the audience throughout the space, which was lavishly and thoughtfully designed. I frankly could've spent another hour or two in there. A member of the main show cast "called" us in-character at our seat prior to the start of the performance to congratulate us on our engagement, while several immersive characters serenaded us in-person while we ate. None of this was expected but deeply appreciated. The main event was excellent, even if the emphasis on the revelry feels a bit contrary to the actual text and intent of the story. Still, by the end, no one was thinking about all the fun they had in the preshow, and the Emcee's transformation was chilling.
The Great Gatsby is exactly what you'd expect a modern musical theater adaptation of the novel to look like, for better or worse. I understand this one was somewhat rushed to Broadway to beat a competing production, and frankly, it shows. Many songs lack punch and could've used more time in the oven, and poor Daisy (Eva was out, her understudy was capable) has nothing to do but sing sad, one-note songs about how terrible her life and womanhood are. Jeremy Jordan, however, is worth the price of admission as Gatsby. He knocks his numbers out of the park with seemingly little effort, and his Gatsby felt fully realized, blustering and overconfident and vulnerable in all the right places. The production itself is also exquisite, with some legitimately impressive bits of pageantry, pyro, and visual staging.
Teeth: The Musical surprised me. I've seen the cult film before and vaguely remember its events, but it was immediately apparent this was going to make seismic changes -- some for better, some I'm still on the fence about. I loved how this version of the story directly confronts the right-wing radicalization of men in digital spaces and brings it into the modern era. The "splash zone" was definitely overemphasized given what actually happens, but the bloody bits were entertaining and the right kind of campy. I'm just not sure I'm fully on board with the show's final act, which feels like it abandons the main character and admits to the audience it doesn't know how to answer any of its dramatic questions. It offers a gory spectacle, instead, and that is undeniably fun, but it left me wanting in the hours afterward.
Sunset Boulevard is as impressive as you've heard. And yes, Nicole Scherzinger - controversies aside - is staggeringly ferocious as Norma Desmond. The production's innovative use of the stage-filling LED screen allowed the principal actors to give much more naturalistic, understated performances versus playing to the balcony, which contrasted effectively with Nicole's refusal to go for anything but the most at any given moment. Her solos justifiably garnered mid-show standing ovations. Stripping the material to its barest essentials does inadvertently reveal the show's weaknesses, but the exercise is so immediately compelling, you're basically too much in love to care.
I said my final goodbyes to Sleep No More across two performances. (Yes, for real, this time - it actually closes in early January.) I'll be back in mid-January for the final McKittrick parties, which are distinct from the show itself. I was very curious to see how I'd feel after having done the newer show, Life and Trust (more on that in a minute). Admittedly, Sleep No More does feel older, relying on decades-old theatrical instruments and techniques. Granted, it established and innovated many of them, but the march of time persists. Many residents have come and gone since my April visits, so I was unfamiliar with quite a few of the newer players -- all of whom did a very good to great job. My issue lies with the audience, which made my first run at the show this trip fairly miserable. Too many guests now know (or have read online) how the show ticks and where to be to gain coveted 1:1 interactions. I of course am aware of this information myself, but there's a difference between looping a character and hoping for an interaction and refusing to give the performer or other audience members space so that you can show that you are the most important and deserving guest at all times -- or worse, you simply "camp out" at the site of the 1:1 pull and attempt to muscle others out. Sometimes the performers can detect and punish this sort of behavior, but on this occasion, two of the performers I looped unintentionally indulged it by pulling misbehavers. It's a real shame, because Sleep No More works best when it's being organically discovered and unwound. Maybe I've been too much to feel that sense of mystery anymore, which is part of why I pivoted to a King Duncan loop for my third rotation. For those unfamiliar, Duncan is a relatively low key loop that does not include a 1:1, meaning a lot of guests "in the know" skip it. A favorite performer of mine was on, and it had been at least 5 or 6 years since I'd partially looped him. I was not disappointed, and found myself discovering (or perhaps rediscovering) new tragic scenes and moments of prophecy, doom, and crushing realization. Pushy crowds still managed to arrive to imperil Duncan, but I was delighted to be pulled for a "public" interaction (one between the performer and guest that does not take place behind closed doors) that I'd never experienced before, right in the moments before the finale.
Fortunately, my final Sleep No More show was much better. I dealt with the same types of terrible audience behavior, but this time, the performers I personally observed were not having it. I was fortunate enough to enjoy 1:1s with Nurse Shaw (who gave me my very first 1:1 at my first performance so many years ago) and Agnes, a personal favorite of mine thanks to its material from Hitchcock's Rebecca. The rest of the evening was devoted to exploring the space, finding moments I'll miss, and saying goodbye. It was my third "final" show, and there's always a risk of having a sour one, but thankfully, this conclusion felt right.
Sleep No More's NYC heir apparent, Life and Trust, is an exciting successor. It was developed and staged by the producers of Sleep No More but not Punchdrunk, its creative team. Instead, they hired some best-in-class writers, directors, choreographers, and designers to execute this sprawling production that combines elements of Faust, The Picture of Dorian Grey, The Red Shoes, and Ragtime (although the latter is apparently unintentional). Much like Sleep No More, for all its faults, I cannot get the show out of my head. It has some frustrating but fixable structural problems, especially for repeat visitors, but the environments are so sumptuous, so intriguing, and so layered with history and meaning that I wanted to spend thrice the amount of time in there than was permitted. There are simply so many characters (by my count, at least 10 more than Sleep No More) doing so many things - including enjoying substantially longer loops, albeit with the adjustment to two loops per show instead of three - that it really does feel like stepping back in time to an old, semi-forgotten reality. I was fortunate enough to enjoy three terrific 1:1s across my three shows, each given almost as a sign of acknowledgment and gratitude after sticking with a character after a lengthy and physically and emotionally exhausting loop. One of those, belonging to a character referred to in the program as "Mr. Vaudeville," is a brilliantly conceived vignette that I will legitimately never forget and makes the absolute most of the immersive form. For the show's structural shortcomings, it's clear there's so much love and passion in every room, every piece of choreography, every character choice. It's a bold new canvas that demands frequent visits (a boon for the producers, of course), and I can only pray that they can build the audience to keep it running. Being such a new show, with none of the spoilery material that makes gaming Sleep No More possible, every discovery and audience decision was authentic and deliberate by design. Every encounter a magical surprise. I can't wait to go back.