One of the most eagerly anticipated productions of this Broadway season is the revival of 1997’s Ragtime,a musical adaptation of E.L. Doctorow’s novel: a complex turn-of-the-20th-century tapestry that weaves together stories of a WASP family, an African-American musician and a Jewish immigrant as they make their way in the new New World. Press performances don’t begin until next week, but we are pleased to offer TONY readers an exclusive first look at Joan Marcus’s beautiful photo shoot of the show’s six principal actors as they transform from modern dress to period costume. Click here to see the full portfolio.
The stars glittered, and the glitter starred, at the third annal Broadway Beauty Pageant on Monday, a celebration of chorus-boy pulchritude to benefit a worthy charity: the Ali Forney Center, which provides lifelines for homeless LGBT youth. The crowd at Symphony Space was highly gayful and abuzz, thanks to cocktails on sale throughout the show; and all five contestants were met with whooping approval at nearly every turn. (We were there with photographer Michael Alexander, 15 of whose shots grace the slide show above.) A full account is after the jump.
Show-business people so often talk about the “theater community” that it is easy to forget that—beyond the glamour of Broadway, the semiglamour of Off Broadway and even the hemidemisemiglamour of Off-Off Broadway—New York has its own stratum of honest-to-goodness community theater. The most venerable such troupe in the New York area is probably the St. Bart’s Players, which has been putting on shows for some 80 years, but there are plenty of other companies putting on shows for the sheer love of it. We admire their spunk, and were delighted to receive this photo the other day from the Narrows Community Theater’s upcoming production of the Stephen Sondheim–Hugh Wheeler masterpiece Sweeney Todd. Sure, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street’s razor looks suspiciously—and not very menacingly!—like a mechanical pencil. But we imagine they’ll have a more convincing blade by opening night. And hey, if John Doyle could make his 2005 Sweeney revival cast double as the orchestra, why shouldn’t this Sweeney terrorize London with office supplies? (The show plays May 8–10 and 15–17 at St. Patrick’s Auditorium in Brooklyn; click here for details.)
It may be a little early to start buzz about Tony Award nominations, but we’ll go out on a limb and say that Mark Thompson’s set for God of Carnage is bound to get a nod come May 5. Here we see a shot from the new Yasmina Reza play (taken by Joan Marcus) that shows, from left to right, Marcia Gay Harden, James Gandolfini, Hope Davis and Jeff Daniels. What’s happening here? Not to give too much away, but there’s a nasty argument brewing; Gandolfini’s character has had enough and he hoists a bottle of rum that he’s about to tear into. But back to the set—the large and stylish living room of a Cobble Hill family. It is expansively, menacingly red, with smugly chic furniture and a long, high piece of art that bisects the space (in the background). This frieze, which looks like ancient mud that has dried and cracked—or the ruined wall of a primordial dwelling—serves as an effective symbol for the themes of domesticity and atavism that Reza cleverly dissects.
Sheila Callaghan’s new play, That Pretty Pretty; or, the Rape Play, covers a lot of ground: Iraq War vet atrocities, male screenwriters getting inside female characters, lady serial killers, squalid hotel rooms, Jane Fonda workout videos, third-wave feminism, ’80s heavy metal and, um, rape. Yeah, there’s quite a bit of rape there. This photo captures nothing less than a full-blown Jell-O wrestling match. It’s totally gratuitous and outrageously sexist. And that’s part of Callaghan’s point. Plus—we bet she’d say—Jell-O wrestling is kinda fun. Pictured, left to right: Annie McNamara, Lisa Joyce, Danielle Slavick and Greg Keller. That Pretty Pretty runs only through March 15 at the Rattlesticks Playwrights Theatre. My review is out on Thursday. It’s good. Get tickets here.
We don’t see a lot of theatricalized William Faulkner, but when we do, it’s usually by experimental groups. Last year, Elevator Repair Service did a ravishing verbatim interpretation of the first part of The Sound and the Fury; in 2004, the Brick’s Michael Gardner engineered an unforgettable four-hour version of As I Lay Dying in a wooden shack that held about ten spectators, called In a Strange Room. Now comes Chuck.Chuck.Chuck., another expressionistic take on As I Lay Dying. It’s at Williamsburg’s Collapsable Hole through February 28. (Pictured: Siobhan Towey and Max Dana; photograph by JJ Lind.) If this pic is any indication, the creators intend to serve up prime Southern Gothic with lots of shadows, dirt and menace. TONY’s Helen Shaw reviews next week.
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