Pippin Review (and a teensy bit about locating a good bathroom in NYC)

Saw the Revival of Pippin last night at Music Box Theater, located between Broadway and 8th Avenue, on 45 street in Manhattan (aka to tourists NYC).

In a word? Amazing.

I don't how the choreographer did it - but somehow she managed to meld the best of Bob Fosse's grinding dance routines with cirque du soliel's acrobatics, and magic tricks. The show was a magical fest for the eyes and mind. Taking place beneath a circus tent, and heavy on metaphorical imagery and ironical lyrical twists.

It's most likely not for the metaphor blind. Although, if you are metaphor blind, you most likely will enjoy the acrobatics and the magic tricks, not to mention the comedic bits - such as the actors playing chickens in the second act, who were a hoot.

And Petina Miller is a sight to behold as the "leading player" originally portrayed by Ben Vereen in the 1970s production. The only change from the original cast - was Annie Potts as Berthe (Granny) as opposed to Andrea Martin, which worked beautifully. She does a trapeze number while singing "Time to Start Living", an audience sing-a-long number. Pippin unlike other musicals, breaks the fourth wall, the audience is to a degree an active participant. The players talk directly to the audience. And at the end of Pippin, inform the audience, that they continue to exist inside every members heads - so if you feel the need to be "extraordinary" and "have that final blaze glory", they will appear.

Best theater performance that I've seen in years - it blew me away. My jaw hung open in childish delight through 98% of it. Can't say the same about the tape of the previous production with Ben Vereen - which I found sluggish in places, and my attention often wandered. Here - while it is still a long show, my attention was always captivated by what was happening on stage and at various points they had things happen in the aisles, so it was beneficial to be in the orchestra seats. Although the things that happened in the aisles were not crucial to following the story.

The Music Box Theater by Broadway standards is not bad, you can the stage fairly well, but the seats...are cramped close together and clearly created for small people. I had an aisle seat - so was able to stick my long legs in the aisle through most of the show, the guy next to me wasn't as fortunate. Concession prices were worse than airport prices - $5.00 for a small water bottle (no you can't bring your own).

What's Pippin about? It's a sort of allegorical piece.

( plot spoilers )

The book and lyrics were at first considered trite by theater critics, but Fosse's staging changed all that, as does this directors staging and arrangement. In theater - it's how the show is performed that often counts not the words on the page. Although...I have to admit I love some of the songs from Pippin. And the dance numbers, along with the circus acts and magic tricks - are quite good and do an excellent job of bringing out several of the themes. This production in some respects is more subtle than Fosse's, and more comical. It's lighter.
And a whole lot more fun.

Oh, if you ever need to find a bathroom between 44th Street and 45th Streets on 8th Avenue?
Go to the Intercontinental Hotel, elevators, B level, hang a right, to the back. Best bathrooms in Times Square. Clean. Have hand lotion. And individual booths with actual doors.
Also free. Just make sure you look decent. Actually that's the trick to bathroom hunting in big cities: find a Hotel. If you can't find one? Try a Barnes and Nobles. If you can't find that? A pub or walk-in bar. Also churches and museums. It's actually easier to find a decent bathroom in NYC than it is elsewhere, weird, but true.

Wicked Intentions - Maiden Lane #1 Review and a bit on fanfiction & JD Salinger

( filed taxes )

Also finished Wicked Intentions by Elizabeth Hoyt which pretty much reads like a first novel. In this case a first novel that was reworked from, ahem, a Spuffy fanfic.

[A brief caveat - Nothing against fan fiction or fan fic. I happen to appreciate fan fiction. Some of the fan fiction that I've read and reviewed in this journal in much the same way that I've reviewed novels, is as good if not better than many of the published novels that I've read - for one very good reason, a metaphor blind publisher hasn't been able to get their dirty/grimy hands on it. Okay, maybe not so brief caveat...was watching the JD Salinger Documentary while doing my taxes this morning, and found it interesting how Salinger hated to get his work published. ( Read more... )

Anyhow - I've gotten away from my review and that was not a brief caveat. More a lengthy rant. Wicked Intentions is a romance set in the Regency period, at least I think it's the Regency period. Early 1700s? Which period is that? I guess I could Google it. No, not the Regency, King George I - is that the Georgian period? There appears to be a lot of King George's...so hard to tell. Maybe that's why it was called the Georgian Period - short-hand to handle all those King George's? [As an aside, I have not quite forgiven the US educational system for not focusing more on World History. I did get snatches of it - in Honors World Geography (which I adored) and in 5th and 6th grade social studies. Oh well, I could always study it now, I suppose.] And is it just me or were the British aristocracy not all that creative when it came to naming their offspring?

The thing about historical romance novels is the historical period tends to be less than accurate. If you are looking for an accurate accounting of history in a romance novel - you are most likely going to be disappointed. I tend to hand-wave it. Historical novels - I expect it, because hello, it's a historical novel...what's the point otherwise? Sure you can embellish here and there, but some historical accuracy is appreciated. In a historical romance, the romance is the point, the history is just there to make it possible or give it flavor.

So, the fact I could not tell which period this book was set in did not bug me all that much. I knew it was in England, somewhere in the distant past, when the aristocracy ruled everything, and wealthy men wore silly powdered wigs everywhere as some sort of deluded fashion statement. I think it was only Europeans who did this. [ETA: And Europeans who immigrated to the Americas and brought the silly idea with them, even if it was vastly impractical in the new world.]Possibly due to the fact that they seldom bathed and their normal hair was greasy? I have no idea why this was considered fashionable. (History experts? Or rather any historical fashion experts out there?)

The plot wanders a bit, because the writer is setting up her world and setting up multiple threads along with the central romance. So we have four subplots in addition to the central story. The central plot focuses on Lord Caire, aka Lazarus Huntington, a noble, no clue what his ranking is - we're not told. He's just a Lord. He's described as having sapphire eyes (it's a romance novel thing - people always have eyes that resemble jewels in romance novels), sliver hair (although we're told his eyebrows, chest, and pubic hair are black or dark brown...so either he bleaches it like Spike did, or it's just a genetic fluke - we're told a genetic fluke since his mother also has silver hair), and wears a long black coat or cape, and carries a stick that he fights with. Lord Caire believes he can't feel empathy or love. That he is incapable of it. And can't stand human touch - or can't feel it without pain. Except from the heroine. As a result of this difficulty he hires prostitutes to have sex with. He ties them up, puts a blind-fold on them, and has his way. His most recent mistress was murdered a few months back - found gutted in the rooms that he'd set her up in. So he's prowling the streets of St. Giles, a particularly nasty ghetto of London, hunting the murderer. It's on these streets that our less than noble, Lord Cair, stumbles upon Temperance Dews, a widow. Temperance runs a foundling home with her brother Winter Makepeace, who may or may not be the mysterious Ghost of St. Giles that haunts the streets at night saving the helpless. Winter is a variable saint, but a likable one, kudos to the writer for that - that is hard to pull off. Temperance is a bit of a martyr, or at least that's what Caire calls her.

Temperance stumbles upon Caire taking a baby home, a baby she's rescued or rather bought from the dastardly Mother Heart's Ease. Caire follows her home and requests that she aid him in his inquiries. Stating that she knows the area better than he does and the people better. But in actuality, it's just an excuse to get closer to her. Which he manages to do...with relative ease, since Temperance is a lusty widow, harboring a guilty secret. She agrees to help him in order to get aid for her foundling home, which is in desperate straits.
( major plot spoilers )

I'd say the book is helpful in how it sets things up. But unless you have unresolved issues regarding the whole Spike/Buffy - you are using me for just sex bit/god you are a soulless monster...the main romance might not work for you. Also, I hate to say this - but this trope doesn't quite work here - like it did in Buffy or various fanfiction that I've read, mainly because Lazarus doesn't come across as evil or soulless, and Temperance doesn't quite come off as a martyr or holier than thou. Nor does she appear all that ashamed of Lazarus, who is above her in the class heirarchy anyhow and male in the 1700s, so has all the power here.

So, not sure I'd recommend or if so, with the above mentioned caveats.