The New York community of theater bloggers blog about blogging as a theatrical event, live, at the theater or anonymously at an undisclosed location. Audience members are encouraged to join the blogosphere conversation on laptops provided at the theater for this event.
Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me. We got free tickets because my wife's friend was his dresser.
It was the most unfunny, preening, offensive piece of shit I have seen on Broadway. The entire premise was that audience members should scream and swoon over sub-Saturday Night Live routines performed at a $100 ticket price.
I can't really say. I will say, though, that I do have a headshot taped to my front door, with the words "don't forget your lunch" written in red letters across her forehead. You know why? That actress blew. She blew too much.
Coram Boy wasn't that bad. But considering that it closed almost as fast as High Fidelity, why bother kicking a horse that's already down? (I am blogging it too!) I actually like to think that there's no such thing as BAD theater, but the worst thing I saw was a show called Janyl at LaMaMa. The lighter side is that it made me appreciate other shows a lot more.
Okay it was hardly recently but this feels like the kinda moment I give a shoutout to "Prymate." Yes, the one with Andre DeShields grunting around on all fours as a gorilla.
It was written by Marc ("Children of a Lesser God") Medoff, and had some advance controversial word for being racist (surprise!), but as I sat trough the intermindable psychobabble of the exposition, you know something's wrong when you're wondering "when does the racism start!"
Oh, and the, uh climax was of De Shields either raping and/or getting jacked off by the little blonde lab assistant. Either way...priceless.
7 comments:
I hate to lead with this, but I hated Coram Boy. There. I said it.
As a play, Deuce.
Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me. We got free tickets because my wife's friend was his dresser.
It was the most unfunny, preening, offensive piece of shit I have seen on Broadway. The entire premise was that audience members should scream and swoon over sub-Saturday Night Live routines performed at a $100 ticket price.
I can't really say. I will say, though, that I do have a headshot taped to my front door, with the words "don't forget your lunch" written in red letters across her forehead. You know why? That actress blew. She blew too much.
Coram Boy wasn't that bad. But considering that it closed almost as fast as High Fidelity, why bother kicking a horse that's already down? (I am blogging it too!) I actually like to think that there's no such thing as BAD theater, but the worst thing I saw was a show called Janyl at LaMaMa. The lighter side is that it made me appreciate other shows a lot more.
Okay it was hardly recently but this feels like the kinda moment I give a shoutout to "Prymate." Yes, the one with Andre DeShields grunting around on all fours as a gorilla.
It was written by Marc ("Children of a Lesser God") Medoff, and had some advance controversial word for being racist (surprise!), but as I sat trough the intermindable psychobabble of the exposition, you know something's wrong when you're wondering "when does the racism start!"
Oh, and the, uh climax was of De Shields either raping and/or getting jacked off by the little blonde lab assistant. Either way...priceless.
And it was on Broadway!
I saw Prymate. Honestly, that was something to behold. Can't believe Garrett even REMEMBERED it. But it was, yes indeed, brutal.
The whole "I'm HIV positive" part actually made me go "You are? No shit! HI-larious!"
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