Flowers from Betty Buckley arrive at the stage door for the first performance of Carrie.
Ladies and gents,
If my writing seems a bit shaky today it’s only because I was assaulted by no less than three drunkards in New York Giants paraphernalia on the streets of Lower Manhattan today. Now, listen folks, I root, root, root for the home team as much as the next New Yorker, but I think you have to be right out of your head if you feel compelled to wake up at the crack of dawn to start drinking, don a costume, and go march around town to celebrate the fact that your favorite sporting team won a big match. In my day, getting drunk before cocktail hour was something you did in private!
(Brother, Can You Spare) A fabulous time!
I have spent one full week, since her opening last Tuesday at the Café Carlyle, scouring the dictionary and so I can say this with some authority: there simply aren’t enough superlatives in the English language to describe the talents of Christine Ebersole. Her new show, The End Of The World As We Know It Cabaret, is everything a great cabaret act ought to be: thematically relevant, thought provoking, funny, and gorgeous to listen to. Here she mixes her signature girlish sweetness with biting social and political satire. Imagine the guts it takes to belt the depression-era anthem “Brother Can You Spare a Dime?” to a room so well-heeled its carpet is stained Louboutin red! This gal’s got moxie, and she knows how to use it.
After the show, we all stole upstairs to the incredible Royal Suite to toast the evening’s star. The room was packed with luminaries, all floating on air from Christine’s transportive set, including Angelica Houston, Katie Couric, Tommy Tune, Matthew Broderick, Scott Wittman, Marc Shaiman, Joy Behar, and Linda Hart. I also ran into the stars of the web series “Submissions Only” (one of my favorite not-so-guilty pleasures): Kate Weatherhead and Colin Hanlon. I said to myself, “If Steve Rubell were alive today, he couldn’t have put together a better mix!” When I finally had to call it a night, I rode down in the elevator with Jim Caruso and Stephanie J. Block. Jim looked at me and said, “Scoop, aren’t we lucky?” I said, “Why? Because the elevator finally arrived?” “No, because we get invited to nights like tonight.” Yes, Jim, we certainly are.
A blooming affair
Also last Tuesday, about 100 blocks and a world away from the Carlyle, a little show called Carrie was playing its very first preview performance at the Lucille Lortel Theatre on Christopher Street. Carrie-one of the most famous flops in Broadway history-has been rethought, rewritten, recast, and reconceived for this new production, and every show queen in town is clamoring to get a ticket. Just before curtain went up on that first performance, I’m told two giant bouquets of flowers arrived at the stage door. The first was from Betty Buckley, who starred in that infamous 1988 Broadway production. The second was from Joe Allen and included a note that read, “Congratulations. Hope you stay off my wall this time!”
Tidbits from around town:
Saw Bette Midler coming out of a performance of Blue Man Group in Lafayette Street wearing a custom, mermaid-themed poncho.
Witnessed Kristin Chenoweth well up with tears when she reunited with her Wicked costar Joel Grey on the red carpet of the Drama League Gala held in her honor.
Overheard Kate Bush complaining about the battery life of her new iPad at the Apple Store in Soho.
As always, a toast of something sparkling to you and yours!