I can't imagine I'll ever in my life have another week of fantastic consecutive theatrical performances like I did this past Tuesday and Thursday.
On Tuesday, Missy and I went to see the Public Theater's production of 12th Night in Central Park. I'd never enjoyed a night at the theater as much as I did that one. And I can't imagine a more perfect cast of actors ever being assembled for a play. I also loved the music—written by the three songwriters for Hem: Steve Curtis, Gary Maurer, and Dan Messé—that was skillfully incorporated into the story.
I'm still lamenting not having caught McDonald in her highly acclaimed performance in 110 in the Shade two years ago or Esparza's masterful turn in Company while it was on Broadway (though I did catch it on DVD). And I'm a huge fan of Hathaway, who seems like she'd be such a doll if you got to know her. And she's very gay friendly, thanks at least in part to her having a gay older brother.
I was incredibly impressed with David Pittu as Olivia's wise-fool servant, Feste. Nobody could possibly have stolen this show from such a great ensemble, but Pittu was a revelation. He deservedly got huge laughs, and he had several opportunities to show off his terrific singing voice. All of the comedic players were top-notch: Hamish Linklater as dipshit knight Andrew Aguecheek; Jay O. Sanders as Olivia's drunken uncle, Sir Toby Belch; Michael Cumpsty as Olivia's pompous chief manservant, Malvolio; and Julie White—whose Tony Award–winning performance in The Little Dog Laughed I also unfortunately missed—as Olivia's attendant, Maria.
The hilly set by John Lee Beatty enabled the clowns to fall and slide down and roll all around. And the show had the best sword fight ever. *remembers that night with Mr. Jane* Well, the best on a stage.
And most of all, bravo to the director, Daniel Sullivan, for pulling together such a flawless production.
Missy and I weren't sure we were going to be able to use our tickets—which were provided by the company we work for; thanks, Bloomy B!—on account of the weather. It poured starting a little after 5, and it rained almost the whole time that Missy; her friend, Laura, who was going to be given a ticket by Gary, another friend of Missy's who'd gotten on the ticket line that morning at 6:30; and I were eating dinner at a Mexican place not far from the Central Park entrance near the Delacorte Theatre. (Note to self: Remember not to get grilled cactus leaves again unless they're jazzed up in some way that sounds irresistible. They were too grassy tasting for me to really like, but they were at least edible with judicious squirts of lime juice.) We kept looking at people out the windows to see whether they were still holding up umbrellas. Not long before we left, we saw that no one was using an umbrella. And while I was on line at the theater to get a brownie and coffee, sunlight streamed through the clouds. Woo and a hoo! There was no threat of rain for the rest of the night, so we could just settle in and enjoy the show.
***
The play was superbly and intelligently written by Jon Marans. In telling the story of Harry Hay and the other founding members of the Mattachine Society, The Temperamentals offers up loads of dramatic tension, great moments of comedic relief, and even a fun or touching musical number here and there. It also provides valuable information on some of the founding fathers of the U.S. gay rights movement for those of us, like me, who aren't as up on our pre-Stonewall history as we might be. I'd never heard of Dale Jennings, but his courage in fighting a trumped-up solicitation charge in 1952 gave strength to a lot of gays and lesbians back when homosexuality was still a crime and a mental illness.
I can't say enough about the cast. Thomas Jay Ryan embodies Hay in his evolution from a married Communist Party activist to a shawl-wearing Radical Faerie who never wants to be seen as heterosexual again. Michael Urie—who's best known for playing Marc St. James, Wilhelmina Slater's assistant, on Ugly Betty—is fantastic as Hay's lover Rudi Gernreich, who went on to become a celebrated clothing designer. The other three cast members—Tom Beckett, Matthew Schneck, and Sam Breslin Wright—all play multiple roles seemingly effortlessly. Beckett's turn as closeted Hollywood director Vincente Minelli is particularly noteworthy.
After the show, my buddy Eugene and I went to the Houndstooth Pub for a late dinner. I'd walked around the Garment District a little while before meeting Eugene at the theater, and I'd spotted the pub, which touts its "comfort food" menu, while wandering around. As soon as Gernreich's large houndstooth pattern was mentioned in the play, I knew that's where I wanted to go to eat. How could we not?
I liked my burger and fries, Eugene relished his shepherd's pie, and we both enjoyed a Magic Hat Circus Boy hefeweizen beer, which was garnished with a slice of orange.
Eugene said he was thinking about taking a friend who's going to be visiting from Los Angeles to see the play. And I'd certainly like to catch it again.
If you're a gay man in the New York area, you owe it to yourself—and to our collective history—to see The Temperamentals. It runs through Aug. 23.
*I didn't think the men-as-women start of the second act smacked of misogyny. I found it gave insight into the women in Harry Hay's life, including his wife.
I'm dying that I won't be able to see this. I just have not had any time.
Posted by: David | July 06, 2009 at 04:26 PM