They say the neon lights are bright...

Last weekend, Melis, Eric, and I took a quick trip to NYC. Melis and Eric wanted to see Idina in If/Then one more time before it closes or she leaves, and Melis and I wanted to see Beautiful before Jessie Mueller leaves. There was nothing to do but head to the Big Apple.

We got there Saturday morning and things went swimmingly. Melis and Eric won the final set of lottery tickets for If/Then, and went to see Idina in all her glory. I got a ticket for my beloved Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, and I must say, it was even better the third time.

For our second show, Melis and I went to see Tony award winning Jessie Mueller play Carole King in Beautiful. Melis had gotten the last single ticket available, and as I waited in the cancellation line, a darling little old man came up to me and sold me a ticket his friend had bought but couldn't use. Sixth row, center. Jackpot. He even went into the theater with me to make sure the ticket scanned so I knew he wasn't scamming me. Delightful.

That night Eric went to On the Town and, sadly, hated it. Poor him. But Melis and I were transported. Beautiful is a music-lover's dream. I was a scene and a half into it when I thought to myself, "I have to see this again tomorrow."

Then the Drifters came out as characters in the musical (I'm just crazy about the Drifters) and I could not have been happier. My mind was definitely made up to see it again.

The next day, an evil British lottery crone denied Melis and Eric a chance to enter the If/Then lottery, even though they showed up with a good 30 seconds to spare. It was too late, baby, it was too late, though we really did try to make it. (I was singing that song and Melis failed to see the humor.) So, Melis and I got cancellation tickets to Beautiful again and Eric got to see the wonderfulness that is Gentleman's Guide, finally. I enjoyed every second of Beautiful and danced out of the theater.

Also, I was sitting right behind the mother and godmother of the guy playing Gerry Goffin, the male lead. After the show I said to his mother, "He was wonderful." She replied, "I thought so too! And I'll be sure to tell him you said that!" She was a delight.

In between our three shows we stuffed our faces with:

• The world's best Eggs Benedict at Le Monde
• Chicken fingers, mashed potatoes, pickles and cabbage at Junior's
• The world's best pepperoni pizza (aside from my mother's homemade, of course) at John's
• Empanadas from a food truck
• The world's best chicken parm at Caffe Napoli
• Assorted pastry from Crumbs, Junior's, and the Ferrara bakery in Little Italy
• And another John's pizza for the road

We should be heartily ashamed of ourselves, but, well, you know how that goes.

I come to praise Caesar, not to bury him.

Tonight I went to see Julius Caesar at the Folger Shakespeare Library downtown. BTW, the Capitol dome is currently under scaffolding and it looks so cool at night, as though it's under its own bell jar. Had I taken my good camera, I'd have snapped a pic.

Crying "havoc" and letting slip the dogs of war.

The play was wonderful. I had two favorite moments (aside from Antony's funeral oration, of course). The first was when the conspirators were portrayed in a hellscape, enrobed as wraiths and hissing and moaning. It was like a dozen Nazgul on stage. Creepy!

"Give ussssss the riiiing!"

The second was when the little old man next to me started audibly snoring and his wife, a stylishly coiffed, fur-coat-wearing, little old lady hissed slowly and deliberately at him: "Wake. Up."

"Beware the Ides of March. Also an angry wife."

Made glorious summer, indeed.

Last night I headed downtown to the Folger Shakespeare Library to see their production of Richard III. Oh, how I love that play, but can I take a moment to talk about the Folger? Do you know about this place? It has the world's largest collection of Shakespeare's works. There are 228 copies of the First Folio still in existence. The Folger has 82 copies. 82 copies! In comparison, the National Library of the UK, the country where Shakespeare was born, lived, and wrote, has two copies. Two. Yeah. This place is so cool, and they put on great Shakespeare productions.

The theater usually looks like this (reminiscent of The Globe, eh?) but for Richard, they put the stage where the seats are, and placed the audience on four sides around it.

The stage had lots of trap doors that they used for the many, many murder scenes. Characters were drowned, strangled, stabbed, etc. and then pulled under the stage. They also projected spooky light up from underneath the stage, which was particularly effective when the ghosts of all Richard's victims visit him on the eve of the Battle of Bosworth Field.

Quite fierce, and yet charming enough to break the fourth wall.

A couple of little redhead brothers played the Princes in the Tower.

Queen Elizabeth

Richard and the treacherous Lord Stanley

"Was ever woman in this humor won?"

The final tableau. Hideous iPhone photo in low light. Sorry.

The coolest thing is that, after Richard was dragged down through the trap door in the center of the stage ("My kingdom for a horse!"), the play ended with the tableau of his skeleton lying under the glass, just like it was recently found lying under a parking lot in Leicester. Macabre and delightful, just like this play.

His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for’s power to thunder.

Tonight I went to an NT Live screening at the Shakespeare Theater and saw the best performance of Coriolanus I've ever seen, either on screen or live. Tom Hiddleston had the title role and thank goodness for that. He is so electric. Also, Mark Gatiss (Mycroft Holmes for my fellow Sherlock fans, Hilary Briss/Auntie Val/David Tatsyrup for my fellow League of Gentlemen fans) played Menenius, so that was just a bonus.

Also, I finally beat the evil Level 347 in Candy Crush, so it was a very successful evening.

"I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train."

Tonight I headed downtown for a delightful evening of Oscar Wilde's finest work. I couldn't help myself from mouthing along some of the lines of dialogue, and as I was sitting in the front row, I hope I didn't distract the actors. The play was an utter delight!

"Mr. Worthing! Rise, sir, from this semi-recumbent posture; it is most indecorous!" was just one of the things I was silently saying along with Lady Bracknell.

"You are the most advanced Bunburyist I know."

"Thirty-five is a very attractive age. London society is full of women of the highest birth who have, of their own free choice, remained 35 for years."

Lady Bracknell was played by Sian Phillips, who played the vicious, scheming Livia in "I, Claudius." She doesn't look much older than when she played the wicked empress all those years ago.

And now I want to go watch the Colin Firth/Rupert Everett version and see Judi Dench deliver those withering lines in all her frosty glory.

Othello

So, last night I headed down to the Shakespeare Theater to see a National Theater Live broadcast of Othello. (NT Live is the program where plays from the British National Theater are broadcast via satellite all over the world—oh, beautiful technology!—and it's how I saw the amazing production of Frankenstein last year which Kris and Lex and I will be seeing again in January.)

This production was unreal, it was so good. Adrian Lester was heartbreaking in the title role, but it was Rory Kinnear as Iago who really stole the show. I mean, Iago is a scene-stealer of a character to start with, but Rory Kinnear is unparalleled. I was hanging on his every word, and feeling hideous about it because Iago is so evil.

"Look into my eeevil eyes."

I enjoyed it so much that I bought a ticket for the encore showing next week. I hope I can stand that much heartbreak in a two-week span.

Exit, pursued by a bear.

So, last night my friend and I went to see The Winter's Tale at the National Shakespeare Theater. This is one of Shakespeare's odder plays, starting out with three acts of high drama and heartbreak, then whipping us into scenes of mirth and merriment and downright silliness, and then back to heartbreaking drama. It's also the play containing his most famous and strangest stage direction: "Exit, pursued by a bear." And yes, there was a bear. I think that was the indication that we were entering the silliness section of the play.

Despite the emotional whiplash, it was really good and beautifully performed. It also had gorgeous original music performed by troubadours onstage.

The actor playing King Leontes also plays Dr. Gablehauser, Sheldon's boss on Big Bang Theory, and my friend kept saying things like, "I noticed when Dr. Gablehauser accused his wife of adultery..."

Ooh, also, before the show we went to Luke's for lobster rolls and now I'm dreaming of having those for every meal.

Every. Single. Meal.

Stay classy, DC.

The emperor would like you to fix the broadcast. Immediately.

So, last night I headed downtown to the Shakespeare Theater to see a play beamed via satellite from London. About 15 minutes into the play, someone in the theater had a heart attack or something. They stopped the broadcast and about a dozen emergency personnel rushed in and took care of her, and then they announced they'd rewind the play's broadcast a few minutes and start it up again. Well, apparently they didn't know how to rewind it just a few minutes (something simulcast something something...) and they had to re-start it from the beginning. It was only 15 minutes. No big deal, right?

No.

People went nuts. It's amazing how quickly society can completely break down. Now let me just reiterate, this is the National Shakespeare Theater. People are dressed up. The median age is 63. The snack bar sells champagne in little fluted glasses. These are not rowdy people. Unless, of course, you make them sit through the first 15 minutes of a play twice. Then you better just hang on to your sugar-rimmed gingerbread cookies with the frosting portrait of William Shakespeare on the front because things are about to get sloppy.

Little old ladies started booing like spectators at the Roman Colosseum who want to see a gladiator beheaded. Middle aged gentlemen in bow-ties started yelling, "This is the wrong place!" and "Fix it! FIX IIIIIITTTTT!" It was like Lord of the Flies in there. I just kept quiet and scoped out the emergency exits.

That was until, about 10 minutes in, an actor entered wearing only a small pair of underwear. Then the elderly woman sitting behind me said, "Oh wait, this part we do want to see again."

It was pure class.

DC theater, baby!

So, I’ve been hitting the DC theater scene pretty hard lately. Here are a few things I saw this month.

Les Liaisons Dangereuses

This was a French production of the famous play, directed by John Malcovich. They were a smash in Paris and now they’re on a world tour and the only place they stopped in North America was DC, so of course I had to go. Alas, I did not get a glimpse of Mr. Malcovich, but I’m sure I’d have dorked out on him anyway. I never know what to say to famous people. (Oh, except, “Casablanca.”)

The play was performed in French with English surtitles (a screen across the top of the stage translated the dialogue.) I noticed that sometimes the translation appeared on the screen before the actor delivered the line, and I wonder if it was difficult for the actors to have the audience reacting to their lines before they had spoken them.

What really helped was that I know the dialogue from the movie Dangerous Liaisons almost completely (because of course I do), and since that film was based on this play, it was almost exactly the same. It helped to be able to concentrate more on the action of the play than the surtitle screen. The production was fantastic and I'll never be afraid to go to a surtitled play in the future.

The Last of the Haussmans

This is the third National Theater Live production I’ve seen. I didn’t like it as well as The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, which had the coolest stage (an electronic floor that let them transform from a bedroom to a neighborhood to a moving train to a Tube station—oh it was so cool) and nothing will ever come close to Frankenstein, but this play was really delightful.

The cast was amazing: Julie Walters (who is a national treasure), Rory Kinnear (who I would watch read the phone book), and Helen McCrory (who is lucky enough to be married to the most handsome redhead on the planet and who is, I’m pretty sure, aging backward like Benjamin Button). They were all wonderful, but I want to say this now so I can get it on the record: Taron Egerton. Remember that name. He’s something special. He just has this certain quality that shines out and I can’t wait to see what he does next.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

This is one of the National Shakespeare Company’s performances and it is astounding. I saw it a couple weeks ago and I was so delighted that I bought another ticket and saw it again last night. And there was a Q&A with the cast afterward that was really interesting.

It was hilarious and delightful and every good adjective. The guy playing Puck was beyond wonderful. He completely stole the show, even more than Puck usually steals it. And there was even a mud fight. Oh yes, a mud fight. 

 Clearly this was awesome.

Goin' to New York, meetin' Matthew Crawley...

So, last weekend Alexa, Eric, and I headed to the Big Apple to see some shows and meet Alexa's future husband, Dan Stevens. (Or, as I will always call him, Cousin Matthew.) Oh, what would Max Talbot* say? Oh no!

*In case you didn't know, the celebrity object of Alexa's affections has heretofore been one Maxime Talbot, former Pittsburgh Penguin and current French Canadian. Her love for him even led her to traitorously root for the Canadian hockey team over the US at the Vancouver Olympics. It was an infamous spectacle, and a more revolting exhibition I cannot recall. He has since been traded to the Philadelphia Flyers, which I suspect took some of the shine off that diamond. 

We started our morning at the Gibsons', who generously hosted us for our whirlwind trip. After rising unbearably early and stopping for egg sandwiches at Starbucks, we were off. Eric and I argued and snarked the whole way to Manhattan while Alexa slept like a lazy lump in the back seat. Surprisingly there was almost no traffic on the way in and we were not greeted by hoards of desperate hurricane survivors barely clinging to life as many people who tried to talk us out of this trip predicted we would.

We soon met up with Taylor and her two friends Josh and Ty. We decided to go to Junior's for an early lunch and here's where we discovered an awesome scam. Did you know that if you go to Junior's before 11 AM they will be serving breakfast and thus instead of the traditional pickles, slaw, and beets, you get a plate of rugelach for the table? Yeah, neither did I. And Junior's rugelach is just as awesome as you would expect baked goods from Junior's to be. So, here's what you do. You go at 10:45, you scarf down the rugelach that they set before you, you ask for lunch menus and wait until 11:00 to order from them, and then you scarf down the pickles, slaw, and beets they bring out next.

Photo credit: Taylor

After lunch, we headed to the Christmas shops in Bryant Park before our shows. Taylor bought the cutest knitted ear band to keep her warm in winter. I lamented that I most likely won't need such finery because I live in a swamp town.

Lex and I headed to The Heiress to swoon over Matthew Crawley enjoy a brilliant play based on a wonderful Henry James novel, while the others saw Annie and Mary Poppins. Ty's cousin is in Annie, so he and Josh got a backstage tour. One of them tripped and nearly crushed the child who plays Annie, so you can imagine how awkward that would have been.

After our show, we went to the stage door. Jessica Chastain came out and was lovely and gracious and spent lots of time with the fans gathered there. (She was off-the-hook amazing in this play, BTW.) David Strathairn snuck out a side door and stood across the street chatting with, I think, his driver. Then Dan Stevens came out and Alexa, after having threatened to throw down the ladies in front of her with her ninja skills, instead waited politely to see the man of her dreams. He was adorable and so very British and he happily took photos with everyone, including our girl:

She came away squealing, "He put his arm around me! We look like a couple!" Our day in New York was clearly a success.

That evening, we couldn't get into John's because the city was packed, so we stopped at the 42nd Street McDonald's for dinner. Yeah, that's right. It was pretty sad. We couldn't even find a table so we ate our fries standing at a counter. I promised myself to never repeat that experience. Then the boys all went to see shows while Taylor, Lex, and I walked around and drank the most amazing hot apple cider you will ever have. We got pretty chilly, so we thought we'd pop into the Library, but we couldn't get in because it was hosting the swankiest wedding in New York City that night.

This is so brilliant because I often get bored at weddings, but if your wedding was in a library, I could just sneak off and spend some time with Miss Austen or Mr. Dickens. Classic literature and cake? Yes, please.  Seriously people, have your wedding in a library and invite me.

After warming up at a gelato/salad bar place with decor straight out of the tackiest restaurant in Miami, we headed to John's to meet the boys for some late night pizza, because there was no way I was leaving Manhattan without some John's pepperoni. Then we said goodbye to Taylor, Josh, and Ty, and headed back to Philly. This is the part of the trip where we almost died. Eric was so tired and I was nodding off, but I kept snapping myself awake, saying "Talk to Eric. Talk to him now or we're all gonna die." Alexa, heedless of our safety, was spread out like a hot breakfast in the back seat, dreaming of Matthew Crawley's** arm around her. How we made it home, alive and awake, I will never know.

**Sorry if this has been confusing, but Matthew Crawley and Dan Stevens are the same person.

The next morning, Lex and Eric headed west and Kris put me back on the train to Swamp Town our nation's capital. The views out the window were quite lovely.

Can't wait to do it again, guys.