With this charming little thing. Four actors, four chairs, one keyboardist, every joke you could think to crack on Broadway shows past and present, a few mildly fancy tricks and a WHOLE lot of heart.
I've heard beaucoups about (title of show)
I find it fitting that I just happened to see this show while in the middle of ongoing uncertainty about my place - in New York, in the theatre. I moved here all bright eyed and winsome, determined to prove that being an actor is about talent and not the ability to play the game. Friends, it ain't. It's about your training and who you know and how amazing your headshots are and if you can step up and bring it at every audition, every time. It's about being your #1 priority and is even more consuming than a full time job or, God forbid, a life. I humbly stand here to announce that, though it's lovely to believe otherwise, people who have a successful acting career have learned to play the game. Thankfully, some are even talented.
This cast? I wish there were words bigger than talented, impressive, or dazzling. I wish I could convey something more than "I loved loved loved loved loved it." It's an intense moment when you watch an actor, playing him or herself, unleash a thought that you thought you alone thunk. (Yes, I just said thunk. Deal with it.) And then, in the middle of it all, a quiet gasp followed by a round of applause. Your neighbor thought it too. So did the guy two rows ahead and to the right. And that guy, and that girl, and him and her, he, she and all of them, too. And you're suddenly reminded why you ever even bothered to try at all.
Because occasionally, something this perfectly wonderful slides next door to the controlled fluff that lines the rest of the block. It's all so very worth it. Even if it's not the perfect portrait of success that someone you never even commissioned once painted.