Tony travesty needs reboot
THE Puerto Rican Day parade, headed by a former terrorist, was more fun than the Tony Awards show. And shorter. I got greater pleasure waxing my chin.
The American Theatre Wing and its Broadway League co- Füh
rer have their noses up their behinds. TV ratings they don’t get. A showstopper song from Bette they also didn’t get. But they did get Kevin Spacey, whom we all love with his multiple-color hairs. The man’s Tiffany. Four-star, triple-A, multiple awardee actor. But a vaudeville variety-style singer dancer joker dumbass carsitting karaoke singer he’s not.
This show’s run by TV-niks who know from tight shots and scenery, but don’t know their assets from a curtain call. Like folk inside Ozark trailer parks, Broadway-savvy they aren’t.
Also. Remembered April 10 in his own Uris Theater, James Nederlander, 94, produced major stage shows for half a century. In TV’s roll call of those who left us, Jimmy was its final memorial. His widow, Char
lene, received no ticket. She thus was unable to be present to experience her husband’s sendoff.
Also, sharp they aren’t. In announc- ing names who’ve gone before, the producers forgot Dina Merrill. Kennedy Center trustee, Eugene O’Neill Theater Center trustee, Broadway actress, even an East Hampton theater named a space the Dina Merrill Pavilion. This daughter of General Foods socialite owner Marjorie Merriweather Post grew up in Palm Beach, Fla. Her childhood was in Donald Trump’s sandbox, Mar-a-Lago. One Dina Merrill addendum. Dina was wealthy. Her third and last husband Ted Hartley, not. We’re hearing there could be an estate squabble over Dina’s trust. He, a former actor turned investor, might make a move. We’re hearing . . .
More Tony talk
IN the days before the Tonys, NYU’s Langone Voice Center laryngologist Dr. Paul Kwak treated some singers beforehand. Vocal chords need 48 hours to recover. Eight shows weekly, two some days, require “full-scale vocal athleticism.” So, in the dressing room were heard warm-up lip trills and, to minimize tension in the larynx, singing through a straw.
Also. It was hot inside Radio City Music Hall, which is big enough and rich enough to afford a fan. How hot? Forget those of us tuning in — actual nominees dozed off between speeches. And shoved security. Celebs smuggled in flasks, popcorn, candy, snacks and protein bars. All they lacked was a taxi out.
Question: With ratings in the toilet, will the American Theatre Wing try and protect their brand and give their telecast a much needed overhaul?
But at least the awardees were A-1 choices — Kevin, Bette, Ben, Cynthia, “Evan”, “Dolly”, Rachel, Gavin, Laurie. That’s even though the show itself is more of an aviary. For the birds. And long? Even my hairdresser needed a touch-up.
Covfefe kerfuffle
OTHER brilliant news. Stuart Slotnick woke at 5:17 a.m. with a brilliant idea. Buy Web site Covfefe.com, made immortal by our president. Too late. Somebody who’d awakened earlier at 5:16 already grabbed it. Lawyer Slotnick bought CovfefeLaw.com instead.
I DON’T personally know this but someone in the Hamptons said there were maggots out there. Maggots! In her house. She experienced maggots! And she wasn’t even referring to those timeshare creatures. But real people. Maggots. Only in New York, kids, only in New York.