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lagilmanUPDATE: Checkitout -- http://www.montypythonsspamalot.com/
A very good day, although I'm the poorer for it -- met up with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
neadods and shayheyred and maureen_the_mad and some other folk I'm pretty sure have LJs but I'm too tired to remember.
And what do fannish folk do when they head into Manhattan? We eat. We shop. We eat some more. We go see Spamalot.
First, to Moods, home of Much Fabric. Wow. Makes me wish I was even remotely crafty with the sewing. I was mugged by a bolt of god-that's-gorgeous burgundy-and-black burned velvet (left unbought, with regret) and searched for the right silk to line my cape at not too outragous a price. Find, pounce, kill. Mine. Mine. Mine!
From there, uptown to Harry's, home of Perfect Shoes, where I replaced my much-worn Munroes with spiff new ones (thanks to Enablement by Nea and a Player Via Cellphone). And of course a stop-off at the local-to-our-hostess' chain bookstore, wherein I found two copes of Staying Dead on the shelves, which, when we left, were faced out on said shelf. Ooops. How on earth did that happen?
I also discovered that yes, I've been off the market far too long, because *whooosh* totally missed the guy checking me out at Moods until everyone pointed him out later over dinner at Uncle Nick's (home of much flaming cheese). Totally. Oblivious. And much abused for it. In my defense, I will point out that a) I think he was about a decade younger than me, and b) I was pretty much occupied with showing off my kill. Pretty silks. Preeeeety silks. *pets the pretty silks*
But on to the important thing.
Is Spamelot brilliant? Maybe. Like much Pythonesque, there are bits that leave you thinking 'well, that went on a bit too long.' But when the second act kicks in, and David Hyde Pierce brings down the house with "You Won't Succeed on Broadway" (pure comedic genius and may I bear his children, please?), you're left thinking 'that was worth the price of the ticket.' And then you get "The Diva's Lament" (Sarah Brightman, your comeuppance has arrived, stage left, please, Ms. Brightman) and "His Name is Lancelot," and you've forgotten all about the slower spots in Act I.
We laughed. Hard. Really hard. At one point, apparently, members of our party were watching two of us laugh rather than observing the stage.
Curry is clearly having a ball as the staright man (literally). Hank Azaria is a doll and a delight and oh, such a voice. David Hyde Pierce... see above. Sara Ramirez owns the stage when she opens her mouth and lets the glorious (and very very hammy) notes out. Michael McGrath has perhaps the best original line of the entire show ("well, it's not something you mention to a heavily armed Christian"). Christopher Sieber is hysterically funny even when he's not speaking. And for those of us in the SFnal world, there are hair flips worthy of Bob Eggleton. Really.
Funny shit, Maynard. The critics will probably hate it. Who cares? It's good dirty silly fun.
And god, the killer rabbit scene? Totally works.
(neadods has a spoilerific review in her journal, including listing the new scenes, for those who want full exposure)
And now I need to go fall over, as there's a full day of work to be done, tomorrow. Playtime's over. :-(
A very good day, although I'm the poorer for it -- met up with
neadods and shayheyred and maureen_the_mad and some other folk I'm pretty sure have LJs but I'm too tired to remember. And what do fannish folk do when they head into Manhattan? We eat. We shop. We eat some more. We go see Spamalot.
First, to Moods, home of Much Fabric. Wow. Makes me wish I was even remotely crafty with the sewing. I was mugged by a bolt of god-that's-gorgeous burgundy-and-black burned velvet (left unbought, with regret) and searched for the right silk to line my cape at not too outragous a price. Find, pounce, kill. Mine. Mine. Mine!
From there, uptown to Harry's, home of Perfect Shoes, where I replaced my much-worn Munroes with spiff new ones (thanks to Enablement by Nea and a Player Via Cellphone). And of course a stop-off at the local-to-our-hostess' chain bookstore, wherein I found two copes of Staying Dead on the shelves, which, when we left, were faced out on said shelf. Ooops. How on earth did that happen?
I also discovered that yes, I've been off the market far too long, because *whooosh* totally missed the guy checking me out at Moods until everyone pointed him out later over dinner at Uncle Nick's (home of much flaming cheese). Totally. Oblivious. And much abused for it. In my defense, I will point out that a) I think he was about a decade younger than me, and b) I was pretty much occupied with showing off my kill. Pretty silks. Preeeeety silks. *pets the pretty silks*
But on to the important thing.
Is Spamelot brilliant? Maybe. Like much Pythonesque, there are bits that leave you thinking 'well, that went on a bit too long.' But when the second act kicks in, and David Hyde Pierce brings down the house with "You Won't Succeed on Broadway" (pure comedic genius and may I bear his children, please?), you're left thinking 'that was worth the price of the ticket.' And then you get "The Diva's Lament" (Sarah Brightman, your comeuppance has arrived, stage left, please, Ms. Brightman) and "His Name is Lancelot," and you've forgotten all about the slower spots in Act I.
We laughed. Hard. Really hard. At one point, apparently, members of our party were watching two of us laugh rather than observing the stage.
Curry is clearly having a ball as the staright man (literally). Hank Azaria is a doll and a delight and oh, such a voice. David Hyde Pierce... see above. Sara Ramirez owns the stage when she opens her mouth and lets the glorious (and very very hammy) notes out. Michael McGrath has perhaps the best original line of the entire show ("well, it's not something you mention to a heavily armed Christian"). Christopher Sieber is hysterically funny even when he's not speaking. And for those of us in the SFnal world, there are hair flips worthy of Bob Eggleton. Really.
Funny shit, Maynard. The critics will probably hate it. Who cares? It's good dirty silly fun.
And god, the killer rabbit scene? Totally works.
(
neadods has a spoilerific review in her journal, including listing the new scenes, for those who want full exposure)And now I need to go fall over, as there's a full day of work to be done, tomorrow. Playtime's over. :-(
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-13 06:51 am (UTC)It sounds wonderful and makes me want to see it even mroe, if that is possible? LOL
Glad you got pretty silks! Silks are a must.
And what's wrong with an age difference may i ask? (is her hubby's toygirl with an age difference of 5.5years LOL)
no subject
Date: 2005-03-13 01:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-13 05:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-13 02:15 pm (UTC)I adore him. He was the only reason to watch "Frasier."
("well, it's not something you mention to a heavily armed Christian").
Perhaps it would be funnier if I knew what the thing was that was best not mentioned?
no subject
Date: 2005-03-13 02:25 pm (UTC)Perhaps. But I'd rather not ruin the joke for folk who have tickets/plan on getting tickets. It's not exactly a tough guess, though.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-13 02:20 pm (UTC)I want!!!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-13 10:47 pm (UTC)::jealous jealous jealous::
no subject
Date: 2005-03-14 02:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-14 03:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-14 03:02 am (UTC)Although he did blow a line in the second act.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-14 03:35 am (UTC)Can we corrupt the children?
Date: 2005-03-13 11:15 pm (UTC)Re: Can we corrupt the children?
Date: 2005-03-14 02:14 am (UTC)There were a lot of teener kids there, actually. The un-PC quotient is pretty high, as expected from the culprits, but it's not particularly racy or rude. There may be stuff that goes *whooosh!* over their heads they may as you to explain, but nothing more (and probably less) than you'd get from a beer commercials.
Re: Can we corrupt the children?
Date: 2005-03-14 02:14 am (UTC)