Dame Edna Everage and Michael Feinstein
Henry Miller’s Theatre, 124 West 43rd Street, New York, Wednesday, March 24 2010
I was glad to be sitting with the paupers at Henry Miller’s Theatre last week because Dame Edna has if anything intensified her obsessive interest in the clothing, interiors and personal lives of those unfortunate enough to sit in the front row or anywhere near it. My sister did this once, in a red dress, and was informed that she had been mistaken for a Royal Mail letterbox. This was nothing compared to Dame Edna’s malevolent (if kindly - meant) fascination with two ladies from New Jersey and Westchester, respectively, who un-self-consciously supplied the Dame with ammunition which was instantly turned back upon them, to devastating effect.
With regard to what’s new in Edna’s life, she has adopted an African baby. If that isn’t enough, it’s named “K-K-K” (“K” for short). Edna has been reunited with her late husband Norm, who died over 20 years ago, because he is in the “Bodies” exhibition which has enthralled Manhattan for several months now. Her admiration for Beyonce broke its banks and overflowed in a performance of “Single Lady” replete with muscle toned dancers, deafening music and an ebonic booty dancing chorus led by the Dame herself. Thirty minutes later she performed Sondheim’s “Ladies Who Lunch,” accompanied by two vast martinis and a lot of concern for Sondheim after whom Henry Miller’s Theatre is about to be renamed (it is not clear why). Edna worried that Sondheim was suffering from over - exposure, so she was temporarily taking his place.
If all this was not enough the show was competing with Michael Feinstein’s big band cabaret, also named “All About ME” which happened to be on the same stage of the same theatre at the same time. Edna’s response to this invasion of her space was to have her minders lock him in a closet from which he escaped (not without innuendo on Edna’s part) to accompany Edna who, as a soubrette, launched her new torch song, “The Dingo Ate My Baby,” astride his white grand piano.
Although I did not actually pinch myself I understood what it was like to want to do so. The concept of the dual yet unblended performance created some of the most bizarre, even surreal, theatrical spectacles I have seen since I first saw Barry Humphries metamorphose into Edna Everage before our very eyes at the Princess Theatre in Launceston in 1970. The schizophrenic duality of Everage and Feinstein was accentuated by Feinstein’s unadulterated sincerity and perfectionist, even earnest, professionalism. His dimension of the show comprised some staggering performances in which an enormous orchestra accompanied his unique cabaret piano virtuosity. One song in particular, “What Did I Have Then That I Don’t Have Now?” from “On A Clear Day You Can See Forever” was sung (as it was in the film) as a simple, perplexed question of self betrayal, while the enormous ramifications of which were struck home by a crashing, almost Wagnerian, orchestral accompaniment. This number typified the standard and tone for Feinstein’s programme which competed in every sense with the Dame’s continual and very welcome narcissistic interruptions.
After an hour of bitter dispute, collaboration was achieved in the last twenty minutes, which comprised an upbeat medley from the American Song Book. “Collaboration” amounted to dire competition for vocal domination as well as stage space, and ultimately, Edna’s signature paean to gladioli which forms the finale to all of her shows, was commandeered by Michael Feinstein. Some genuine sharing must have taken place in rehearsal as Feinstein was able to get the gladdies almost as far as Edna who for decades has for decades been able to land them in the pauper’s rows at the back of the balcony, as well as the ashtrays on the sides, with a mere flick of the wrist.
Inevitably, the show was dismissed by the New York critics, as a nonsensical mis - match. As usual, they did not get the joke, or did not want to get it, or found it inappropriate for Broadway (they really set themselves up as judge and jury). Unlike other shows upon which they cast the same verdict of doom (such as “Avenue Q” which is still running after 6 years), "All About ME" did not survive. It closes today, April 4, two weeks after opening.
Edna Everage has failed before in New York and on television this morning she was sanguine, even amused, by this sad outcome. For twenty years in the 70s and 80s she was completely ignored by the American public who did not comprehend her short-lived Broadway performances at all. Although she is now a famous, even adored, gigastar in the USA as well as the UK and Australia, this is not enough to keep her quirky show open in the economic wasteland of Broadway where a critic’s pomposity determines what we all get to see unless we are smart enough to go to previews.
Throughout the entire winter Broadway shows have been half empty and half priced tickets are so easy to buy directly from the theatres that there is no need to book on line and pay the ludicrous “convenience” fees or to spend two hours in the cheap tickets line in Times Square (not that this stops the thousands of tourists who seem to like standing there all afternoon in the freezing cold). Last week the only tickets which were hard to find were for “Wicked,” which is solidly booked for months and “Promises, Promises,” which is the latest nostalgia revival starring Kristin Chenoweth and Sean Hayes. It would probably be unforgettable should it be possible to see the stage through the shoulder pads and big hair of the bridge and tunnel crowd, all of whom flocked to Edna when things were good just as they have abandoned her now that times are tough.
Watch Dame Edna and Michael Feinstein discuss "All About ME."
Henry Miller’s Theatre, 124 West 43rd Street, New York, Wednesday, March 24 2010
With regard to what’s new in Edna’s life, she has adopted an African baby. If that isn’t enough, it’s named “K-K-K” (“K” for short). Edna has been reunited with her late husband Norm, who died over 20 years ago, because he is in the “Bodies” exhibition which has enthralled Manhattan for several months now. Her admiration for Beyonce broke its banks and overflowed in a performance of “Single Lady” replete with muscle toned dancers, deafening music and an ebonic booty dancing chorus led by the Dame herself. Thirty minutes later she performed Sondheim’s “Ladies Who Lunch,” accompanied by two vast martinis and a lot of concern for Sondheim after whom Henry Miller’s Theatre is about to be renamed (it is not clear why). Edna worried that Sondheim was suffering from over - exposure, so she was temporarily taking his place.
If all this was not enough the show was competing with Michael Feinstein’s big band cabaret, also named “All About ME” which happened to be on the same stage of the same theatre at the same time. Edna’s response to this invasion of her space was to have her minders lock him in a closet from which he escaped (not without innuendo on Edna’s part) to accompany Edna who, as a soubrette, launched her new torch song, “The Dingo Ate My Baby,” astride his white grand piano.
Although I did not actually pinch myself I understood what it was like to want to do so. The concept of the dual yet unblended performance created some of the most bizarre, even surreal, theatrical spectacles I have seen since I first saw Barry Humphries metamorphose into Edna Everage before our very eyes at the Princess Theatre in Launceston in 1970. The schizophrenic duality of Everage and Feinstein was accentuated by Feinstein’s unadulterated sincerity and perfectionist, even earnest, professionalism. His dimension of the show comprised some staggering performances in which an enormous orchestra accompanied his unique cabaret piano virtuosity. One song in particular, “What Did I Have Then That I Don’t Have Now?” from “On A Clear Day You Can See Forever” was sung (as it was in the film) as a simple, perplexed question of self betrayal, while the enormous ramifications of which were struck home by a crashing, almost Wagnerian, orchestral accompaniment. This number typified the standard and tone for Feinstein’s programme which competed in every sense with the Dame’s continual and very welcome narcissistic interruptions.
After an hour of bitter dispute, collaboration was achieved in the last twenty minutes, which comprised an upbeat medley from the American Song Book. “Collaboration” amounted to dire competition for vocal domination as well as stage space, and ultimately, Edna’s signature paean to gladioli which forms the finale to all of her shows, was commandeered by Michael Feinstein. Some genuine sharing must have taken place in rehearsal as Feinstein was able to get the gladdies almost as far as Edna who for decades has for decades been able to land them in the pauper’s rows at the back of the balcony, as well as the ashtrays on the sides, with a mere flick of the wrist.
Inevitably, the show was dismissed by the New York critics, as a nonsensical mis - match. As usual, they did not get the joke, or did not want to get it, or found it inappropriate for Broadway (they really set themselves up as judge and jury). Unlike other shows upon which they cast the same verdict of doom (such as “Avenue Q” which is still running after 6 years), "All About ME" did not survive. It closes today, April 4, two weeks after opening.
Edna Everage has failed before in New York and on television this morning she was sanguine, even amused, by this sad outcome. For twenty years in the 70s and 80s she was completely ignored by the American public who did not comprehend her short-lived Broadway performances at all. Although she is now a famous, even adored, gigastar in the USA as well as the UK and Australia, this is not enough to keep her quirky show open in the economic wasteland of Broadway where a critic’s pomposity determines what we all get to see unless we are smart enough to go to previews.
Throughout the entire winter Broadway shows have been half empty and half priced tickets are so easy to buy directly from the theatres that there is no need to book on line and pay the ludicrous “convenience” fees or to spend two hours in the cheap tickets line in Times Square (not that this stops the thousands of tourists who seem to like standing there all afternoon in the freezing cold). Last week the only tickets which were hard to find were for “Wicked,” which is solidly booked for months and “Promises, Promises,” which is the latest nostalgia revival starring Kristin Chenoweth and Sean Hayes. It would probably be unforgettable should it be possible to see the stage through the shoulder pads and big hair of the bridge and tunnel crowd, all of whom flocked to Edna when things were good just as they have abandoned her now that times are tough.
Watch Dame Edna and Michael Feinstein discuss "All About ME."
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