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Ben Brantley
@BenjBrantley
reader and theatergoer
nyc
Joined April 2012
Posts
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    Allow me to echo re "Into the Woods": There have been many talented interpreters of the Baker's Wife since Joanna Gleason brilliantly originated the role. But Sara Bareilles is the first I've seen to match Gleason's human complexity, while providing her own free-wheeling spin.
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    She was actually on Broadway only twice, decades ago. Yet somehow she seems to hover there, always, as one of the great and enduring lights of the Broadway musical. Happy birthday to that star of stars, Barbra Streisand, who clearly leaves a lasting impression.
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    Goodbye, Stephen Sondheim. Truly without peer. The vacuum left is incomparable; so is the legacy.
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    Farewell to William Finn, whose musicals were truly unlike anyone else's. On Broadway in 1992, His "Falsettos" offered a sweet, wrenching and much needed catharsis in the darkest depths of the AIDS crisis. I remember leaving the theater with my shoulders heaving; I wasn't alone.
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    The first time I saw her, in 1973, she was sailing down the aisle of the Winter Garden Theater, puncturing the air with that inimitably piquant profile and purposefully calling, "Sing out, Louise!" And I fell in love forever. Farewell to the eternal Angela Lansbury.
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    Am loving the continuing reincarnations of Mary Todd Lincoln (next: Jane Krakowski!), which confirm that the anarchic First Widow and cabaret artist can be embodied by anyone with a gift for the comedy of desperation. Cole Escola & co have redefined the art of Broadway casting.
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    I think this is the moment when Mandy Patinkin is supposed to step forward and still the cacophony by saying, "Order. Design. Tension. Balance. Harmony."
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    New York theater as a religion doesn't have a more impassioned avatar than Jonathan Groff. I'm glad I stuck around.
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    It was never this good before. It will never be this good again. Maria Friedman's inspired reinvention of "Merrily We Roll Along" makes Broadway -- and Sondheim -- feel newly and fully alive again. The season's most essential show, with an unsurpassable triple act at its center.
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    Happy birthday to Bernadette Peters, whose voice is the sweetest trumpet sounded on Broadway. During a lifetime on stage, she has brought a child's wonder and a pro's discipline to every role she's played, creating -- among much else -- an unparalleled gallery of Sondheim women.
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    This is awful. Gavin Creel has died at 48. He seemed born to channel and share the special joys of the American musical, and he did so in such a variety of parts, from the ingenuous hippie of "Hair" to the serpentine lothario of "She Loves Me." Also a swell Mormon in London.
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    Chita Rivera - who ruled Broadway stages as the original Anita, Rosie and Velma - has died. Though she was 91, I had kept expecting to see her perform at least one more time. She emanated that kind of energy that felt endlessly, improbably rechargeable. Farewell to a solar force.
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    Farewell to the peerless Maggie Smith, whose voice could stretch a single word into a prism of shades of disapproval, disappointment, amazement and amusement. She could commandeer a stage ("Lettice and Lovage") or a screen ("Bed Among the Lentils") with a single raised eyebrow.
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    She did not sing or speak false notes. Watch her screen performances from the 1930s and 40s, where she's a wellspring of sincerity in the midst of artifice. It's the centennial birthday of Judy Garland, the most uncannily translucent of stars.