The Tonys
Is that even how you spell that?
My patience for the Tony Awards is limited. Five minutes total, in truth. Maybe more, but not much. If I'd taped it I might have some fun fast-forwarding through everything but the musical numbers. But I didn't. Truth be told, the closest I got to interest in the Tonys was from watching Smash. And that sucked so bad that I stepped away after a couple of episodes.
So I can't help you very much with this stuff, other than to say that, through the miracle of hi-def u-tube, you can see for yourself, after the fact, that Neil Patrick Harris' opening number is a giggle -- the man has some talent and a generally pleasant infectiousness. Unlike, say, a tsetse fly. And if you get all the way through it, a box appears at the top of the screen that says some version of "click here for the closing number", which is also worth doing, and doesn't last nearly as long as the opening version.
Quick editorial note: Who doesn't like Mike Tyson. I admire the gusto with which he embraces what one might call Act II. Or MikeTyson2.0
It should also be noted that I find NPHarris' sitcom How I Met Your Mother tiresome on levels far exceeding the Tony Awards. So I don't watch that either.
Sometimes, late at night, staring at the HuluPlus directory, I contemplate watching the final 18 episodes of Smash. Because it did have its charms, hidden though they were by the general incompetence of the show as a whole. But the thought of watching even another minute of Debra Messing was enough to push me towards yet another episode of Miami Vice.
Quick editorial note #2: Do you know how they say that comedy is harder than drama? So the assumption is that a skilled comedic actor is more likely to handle drama well than a skilled dramatic actor is with comedy. Ms. Messing puts the lie to that like nobody's business. What I saw of her in Smash made me want to pull my eyeballs out and replace them with my thumbs.
Half way through Smash's run, they hired a new showrunner and fired a lot of people. But they couldn't fire Ms. Messing because of the gay community's attachment to her based on Will & Grace. And the last thing a show like Smash wanted to do was alienate gay viewers.
This, friends, is the classic definition of caught between a rock and a hard place.
My patience for the Tony Awards is limited. Five minutes total, in truth. Maybe more, but not much. If I'd taped it I might have some fun fast-forwarding through everything but the musical numbers. But I didn't. Truth be told, the closest I got to interest in the Tonys was from watching Smash. And that sucked so bad that I stepped away after a couple of episodes.
So I can't help you very much with this stuff, other than to say that, through the miracle of hi-def u-tube, you can see for yourself, after the fact, that Neil Patrick Harris' opening number is a giggle -- the man has some talent and a generally pleasant infectiousness. Unlike, say, a tsetse fly. And if you get all the way through it, a box appears at the top of the screen that says some version of "click here for the closing number", which is also worth doing, and doesn't last nearly as long as the opening version.
Quick editorial note: Who doesn't like Mike Tyson. I admire the gusto with which he embraces what one might call Act II. Or MikeTyson2.0
It should also be noted that I find NPHarris' sitcom How I Met Your Mother tiresome on levels far exceeding the Tony Awards. So I don't watch that either.
Sometimes, late at night, staring at the HuluPlus directory, I contemplate watching the final 18 episodes of Smash. Because it did have its charms, hidden though they were by the general incompetence of the show as a whole. But the thought of watching even another minute of Debra Messing was enough to push me towards yet another episode of Miami Vice.
Quick editorial note #2: Do you know how they say that comedy is harder than drama? So the assumption is that a skilled comedic actor is more likely to handle drama well than a skilled dramatic actor is with comedy. Ms. Messing puts the lie to that like nobody's business. What I saw of her in Smash made me want to pull my eyeballs out and replace them with my thumbs.
Half way through Smash's run, they hired a new showrunner and fired a lot of people. But they couldn't fire Ms. Messing because of the gay community's attachment to her based on Will & Grace. And the last thing a show like Smash wanted to do was alienate gay viewers.
This, friends, is the classic definition of caught between a rock and a hard place.
posted by Geoffrey at 5:54 PM
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