Earlier today, someone sent me a sort of music-related quiz, with a different question for each day of the month -- not a "right or wrong" question, but more a "Name your favorite..." thing.  And for today, the question was "Name a song by your favorite songwriter who is no longer alive."  The person sent she thought of me because of Steve Goodman.  And I'd probably have selected him, though in fairness there are an awful lot of composers to choose from, needless to say.  But as a quip I mentioned that my second choice might be Henry VIII -- for the legend that he may have written "Greensleeves."

That got me to think of a couple other favorites, who I've mentioned here a few times, the British team of Michael Flanders and Donald Swann, who had a couple of very successful musical revues on London's West End and Broadway -- At the  Drop of a Hat and its  follow-up, At the Drop of Another Hat (which also got broadcast on CBS as a TV special).

I mention this because, of the many wonderful parts of the initial show, which played on Broadway in 1959, there is a seven-minute erudite and funny monologue by Michael Flanders on the history behind the song "Greensleeves."  (He's the bearded one below.) There are none of the pair's comic musical numbers here, just the background music of the song in question, played by Donald Swann.  But as great as their songs are, Flanders' monologues -- including one of being a bored tennis umpire -- are as much a joy.

​Here 'tis --

There have been a bunch of postings on social media today about it being the birthday of Fred Gwynne, who passed away in 1993 at the age of 67.  And all of these postings have a photo of him from the TV series The Munsters, clearly his more recognizable role.  But --

Back in my dark days when I was a unit publicist, I worked on the Stephen King film Pet Sematary that Fred was the co-star of.  He gave a extremely good performance and was a nice man -- not overly outgoing, but personable and approachable.  But when it came time for me to interview him...he would NOT talk about The Munsters.  He almost shut down when I brought the topic up.  And no, it's not that I just sort of got that impression, but he specifically said that he wouldn't talk about it.  He fully recognized that the show made him famous, and clearly there were benefits from that, but he said bluntly it pretty much ruined his acting career.  He was deeply typecast and couldn't get roles -- or at least decent roles -- for a long time.  Happily, late in career he started getting hired in some solid roles and gave wonderful performances, most particularly in The Cotton Club memorably paired alongside Bob Hoskins, but also My Cousin Vinnie, as the judge, and the aforementioned, Pet Sematary.  Unfortunately, he passed away in the midst of this long-overdue renaissance -- but at least he had the renaissance.

And lest one think that he was being presumptuous about his acting career -- know that he appeared on Broadway quite a bit, making his debut in Mrs. McThing (by Mary Chase, who wrote Harvey) opposite Helen Hayes.  And his first movie, though uncredited, was On the Waterfront.  And during the years he had difficulty getting solid roles in films and TV, he returned to the stage often, such as the Broadway revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof as 'Big Daddy,' and in two parts of the Broadway production of A Texas Trilogy, as well as the stage manager in the American Shakespeare Festival production of Our Town.  He was also a good singer -- appearing on Broadway in the Meredith Willson musical, Here's Love, based on The Miracle on 34th Street, for which I included one of his songs here.  And I also embedded a video of him here singing a song in his first sitcom, Car 54, Where Are You?  And an accomplished painter and illustrated and wrote several well-regarded children's books.  

I've tried to "correct the record" when I've seen some social media postings on Fred with those photos, since I'm certain it would have galled him.  But that's an uphill battle with no expectation of success.  But at least here I can not only give the proper record -- but have a proper photo, as well.

And what the heck, let's end it with a bonus:  Here's Fred Gwynne singing Gilbert & Sullivan's "A Policeman's Lot" (from The Pirates of Penzance, though with altered lyrics) from an episode of Car 54, Where Are You?. at the precinct's holiday party.

Last night, I saw the Bristol Old Vic production of Eugene O'Neill's semi-autobiographical classic, Long Day's Journey Into Night," which starred Jeremy Irons -- along with the original cast from the British show.  It was very good – and O’Neill certainly did get the “Long” part right in the title…  (It’s about 3:30 including a 20-minute intermission.)
 
Jeremy Irons was wonderful.  I like his film acting but am not a huge fan – I find him a bit more “theatrical” than my taste for the kind of performances I love, though I certainly enjoy his work.  But that theatricality clearly pays off well on stage when you’re in the…well, theater.
 
I can’t say I love the play – it’s less plot-driven than I prefer, but it’s nonetheless an excellent, vibrant piece of work, and all the characterizations are rich, as the Tyrone family deals with their many demons during the course of the long day.  Mary, the mother, riveted with insecurities and morphine addiction.  The youngest son Edmund -- loosely based on the playwright -- who has contracted tuberculosis ("consumption," they call it here).  Jamie, the eldest, an alcoholic who hasn't held down a serious job.  And towering over them all is the patriarch James Tyrone, filled with a need to judge and rule over them all.  Oddly, dark as the play clearly is -- indeed, almost literally for the second act as the father wants to save on electricity... -- it's not a bleak play through, filled as it is with its share of humor.  And also the blunt honesty of all the characters, well, except for the mother, and even she has her moments, help keep the play from being dragged down into the morose, along with their affection for each other which comes through.

The play, by the way, was produced posthumously on Broadway in 1956 and won the Tony Award for Best Play, with the Pultizer Prize being given to the late-O'Neill.

The performances were quite good, though some better than others.  (Being all British/Irish, they have good American accents, but are a bit flat for it, so there isn’t ideal texture), however Irons rises far above everyone, and makes the evening absolutely well-worth it.  There's a richness and deep coloring of details which bring the moments of his life together.  It's a much more passive character than we're used to seeing him play, though he's clearly the man in charge, almost manipulative in his quiet.  Where he especially shines is a sequence of about 30 minutes in the second act, sitting with his youngest, Edmund, trying to describe his past to explain his actions now.  Although it's the two characters, for all sense and purposes it's a half-hour monologue.

Lesley Manville as the mother (she got an Olivier nomination as Best Actress in the British production) was very good in an extremely difficult "flighty" role, though a touch inconsistent in the first act for my taste, mainly because of her voice (more on that in a moment) – but she came to life where it most counted, with a tour-de-force performance in what is virtually her own 20-minute monologue that opens Act Two.  Again, there's another character on stage, the summer housemaid (played by Jessica Regan in the small role), but she is there mainly to ask some questions and be a witness as the mother opens up about her life.  Manville used a high-pitched, shaky, flat American accent which on occasion got in the way in the first act (at intermission, I kept imagining Jessica Tandy doing the role and being riveting), but she was still good there, though as I said she was tremendous in that 20-minute second-act opening.  I also didn't realize until later that not only was she a highly accomplished film and stage actress, with numerous awards (such as winning the Olivier Award as Best Actress in Ibsen's Ghosts) and appearances in such films as Vera Drake, Secrets and Lies, Malificent, Milk, and many more -- but I saw her last year in her Oscar-nominated role as Best Supporting Actress in Phantom Thread, playing Daniel Day Lewis's sister and couture manager.

The two sons, played by Rory Keenan as Jamie, and Matthew Beard as Edmund, were both solid but not at the level of the others.  I preferred Keenan, who was boisterous, though didn't have the edge I sense the character is best-served by.  Beard had some wonderful moments, but struck me as uneven.

Fun facts:  In that original Broadway production in 1957, the elder son Jamie was played by Jason Robards, Jr., and the small role of the housemaid was performed by Katherine Ross (who later co-starred in The Graduate and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid).

Here's a brief, and mediocre trailer for the production, but it will at least give you a small sense of the show.

But here also is a five-minute interview with Irons and Manville which not only is quite interesting, but it includes brief footage from the production, as well as some from Phantom Thread.

Much thanks to Shelly Goldstein for the heads-up on this.

Apparently there was a medical issue at a recent performance of Henry IV in West Los Angeles, and Tom Hanks came on stage in full character as 'Falstaff' and filled in for five minutes.  Yes, for five minutes.  And an even better "yes," -- yes, there’s video.
 
Clearly there was nothing like this when I went to the play last week, but at least people can get a hint of the vibrancy of his performance and how I wrote here that he played the part to the fullest and that it wasn't a mere Star Turn. Even in this clip, ad-libbing for five minutes, he plays the weight of Sir John Falstaff lumbering around and in full Falstaffian bombast.

And also, this isn’t a cell phone video, but clearly the Shakespeare Fest is videotaping it -- though I suspect more for archival purposes, since the sound quality is not very good.  But as a remembrance for those who saw the play – and as at least a hint of it all for those who didn’t – what a treat to have, for them to even just see five minutes of Tom Hanks as 'Falstaff,' even if it's just 'Ad-Lib Falstaff.  Because poor as the sound quality is, you can hear enough, and some of it is very funny.

I assume most people here know of Richard M. Sherman, even if not by name.  He’s the fellow who (with his brother Robert) co-wrote the movie scores to Mary Poppins, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, The Happiest Millionaire, the Broadway musical, Over Here, ​and the song, “It’s a Small World,” and lots more.   For folks in Los Angeles, it turns out that there is going to be a 90th birthday gala for the good fellow at the Wallis Anenberg Theater in Beverly Hills.  The price is right for tickets -- they're free, and one can order up to four.  You can find more information and the reservation form here. 

A month or so ago, I wrote here about an upcoming production of Shakespeare's Henry IV put on by the Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles -- and how most notable about it was that making his Los Angeles stage debut, playing the role of Falstaff, was...Tom Hanks.  Well, I got my tickets the moment I found out about the show, and last night was the night I went.

I'm not going to give a full review of the evening, but rather some general observations and a few comments.  But first things first, which is pretty much the only thing people have wanted to know.  So, to get that out of the way --

It was great.  Extremely well done.  And Hanks was…spectacular.  Let's do a thought experiment:  picture in your mind Tom Hanks doing the flamboyant, drunken braggart Falstaff as well as you could hope possible.  That’s pretty much what you got.  It wasn’t a star turn, it was a performance.  Full of bravado, but also great subtlety.  And generous, not hogging the stage but letting the other actors lead the scene when it was theirs to do so.  Not upstaging anyone so that actors speaking had to turn to him for all the attention, but often going downstage himself with his back to the audience to allow the others their full due.  But he had plenty of time in the limelight because that's what the role calls for.  And in one of the quieter moments, his soliloquy about honor was an absolute gem.  Indeed, he played the fat suit SO believably, struggling up stairs all night and lumbering around the stage, often fighting for breath, that you didn't see it as a gimmick, but felt his exhaustive weight.
​ 

(Photo credit:  Craig Schwartz)

To be clear, I've seen four major reviews of the show, and they all agreed, among them the Los Angeles Times.  All were raves.  The Times review even began by saying that this was a production that could have gone very wrong -- not just because it was largely actors not known for doing Shakespeare, but also because of how the production edited together both Henry IV plays (Part 1 and Part 2) and trimmed the text from what would have been six hours to 3-1/4 hours -- but that it all worked and wonderfully.

It was also a great venue – outdoors in the Japanese Garden of the West Los Angeles V.A. ground, fairly intimate, seating for only about 600, but (being in a wooded area) you had an actual forest behind the stage which they used to its fullest, particularly for all the battle scenes.  So, it was intimate, yet with great expanse.

And it's not just Hanks, but the show has a good supporting cast and high-end director, Daniel Sullivan who has seven Tony Award nominations, winning for the original production of Proof -- and has directed 10 productions for the New York Public Theatre's  Shakespeare in the Park.  The cast included Hamish Linklater as Prince Hal, who's done quite a bit of Shakespeare, and been in the films The Big Short, Battleship, 42, and A Midsummer Night's Dream, as well a regular on such TV series as Fargo, Legion, and HBO's The Newsroom.  Also Joe Morton who played King Henry IV, a regular on the series Scandal, Eureka and Proof, and a semi-regular on The Good Wife, as well as in such movies as Speed and Terminator 2.  And a personal favorite, the wonderful Harry Groener, with a long career as a character actor on TV and film (you'd know him instantly), and lots of Broadway credits, and who readers of these pages may recall starred in a world premiere play in Los Angeles I wrote about here, the very dark satire Vicuña, by Jon Robin Baitz (playing the lead character loosely based on Donald Trump running for president -- one of the most bizarre nights I've every had in the theater, seeing it the night after Trump won the 2016 election.)

The performances throughout Henry IV were all strong -- some excellent, though a few didn't bowl me over.  I thought Joe Morton was a bit stilted, though he brought much substance and presence to the role, which is critical when you're playing the title character King of England.  And Hamish Linklater gave a slightly moodier interpretation as Hal than is usual, but it generally worked well.  Harry Groener was great in a dual role -- Henry Percy (the leader of the rebellion, father of Hotspur) and the befuddled comic character Justice Shallow.  I also thought Jeff Marlow was standout as the Archbishop and Sir Walter Blunt.  (As you can probably figure, there was a lot of doubling up.)  And Rondi Reed was exuberant as Mistress Quickly.

As I mentioned, the show puts together an edited version of the two Shakespeare plays, adapted by director Sullivan.  Perhaps if you're a Shakespeare aficionado or purist, that might be sacrilegious, but it seemed to work well.  Part 2 pales a bit to Part 1 when seen together, and probably is better standalone -- it's more elegiac and thoughtful, compared to the adventurous, plot-driven and more-comic Part 1.   But put together, it seems to make for a richer evening.  What I'm curious about is if the adaptation was done for theatrical reasons, or if it allowed them to tell the Falstaff story more fully, which ultimately let them use Tom Hanks to a far-greater extent than if Henry IV, Part 1 had been done alone.

Sullivan also does something small, but very smart with the staging.  Because everyone knows the reason why they're all there, who the audience has come to see, but Falstaff doesn't appear right away, it was likely that the audience would be antsy and not be paying close attention until Hanks finally shows up, risking the distracting of "When will Tom Hanks be onstage??" throwing the balance of the evening off.  So, what they've done is have Falstaff rumble out on the empty stage first, alone, and struggle to get into a chair.  (It's an amusing bit of stage business.)  And then suddenly, with a WHACK, he slams down his mug and begins to sing -- and the ensemble offstage joins in with the madrigal, walking onto the stage as he keeps pounding the mug in relentless rhythm.  The song ends, they all stroll off, the audience is Hanks-satisfied, the mood is wonderfully set, and the play begins.

One thing separate from the show itself that I simply can't fully explain is why there were still empty seats.  Not many, but that there were any is bewildering.  In fact, there still are seats left for the rest of the run, in case you live in L.A. and are interested.  (You can check out availability here.)  After all, this is Tom Hanks -- as Falstaff -- in a limited, one-month run -- in an intimate venue -- and it got rave reviews.  Ticket prices are admittedly high (in part, I think because Hanks and his wife Rita Wilson are on the board of directors of the Shakespeare Center, and one of several reasons he may be doing this is as a fundraiser).  But if this was in New York City, and they took out an 1/8-page ad in the "Arts & Leisure" section of the New York Times that Tom Hanks would be appearing as Falstaff in a one-month run of Henry IV, tickets would be gone in three hours.  Everyone I've mentioned this to from New York agrees.  Part of the reason for ticket availability, too, is...well, that's Los Angeles.  People here are not as into theater, and they also wait for reviews.  (Though ticket sales were solid before the opening, there was still far more availability than was sane.  However, the reviews clearly have helped almost fill it up.  But "almost" is so bizarre to me.)
 
But again, having said all this, let me repeat -- Hanks was great. 
​

If you didn't watch last night's Tony Awards broadcast, for all the excellent professional performances the highlight of the evening may have been a song from the theater department at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. It wasn't just that it was obviously emotional, but...well, just watch the faces of the professionals in the audience.

Here's the video of that, singing "Seasons of Love" from Rent.  I'm only sorry that it starts with the song, and doesn't include Jeff Daniels' introduction.  It was very touching, and included mention of himself and a few others from the theater community going to Parkland, Florida, to participate with with the students.  And after that, one of the students contacted the Tony Committee to ask if he might be able to appear on the broadcast to explain how important and appreciate all that involvement was to the school.  Instead, Daniels said, the committee chose to invite all the students to perform on the show -- and there was a gasp from the audience -- and here they are.  And the audience went wild.

​And then they saw this.

And unfortunately, the video leaves out the cheering for half a minute after.

As a bonus, here's video of an acceptance speech which did not make it on the broadcast.  It came from the Creative Arts Tony Awards which were presented at an earlier ceremony, and they only showed snippets of the acceptances.  This is the Excellence in Theatre Education Award, and as you'll see, it's a shame that this whole thing didn't make it on the national broadcast.  One of the more eloquent speeches you'll see at an awards ceremony (though I'm sure she knew ahead that she was receiving it and could prepare.  She used her time well.)  The reason this is a bonus video and included here is that the recipient is Melody Herzfeld, the drama teacher at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. 

Tonight is the Tony Awards broadcast.  And in its honor, here's a gem of a video.  From the 1987 Tonys,, this is a tribute to 40 years of Tony-winning Best Plays, and the special treat is that includes many of the original actors from those plays.  Thanks to Shelly Goldstein for coming across this.

Also, given that each play is only given about 15 seconds, and maybe one or two lines, it shows how effective even that can be, and how shameful the Tony TV producers have been over the more-recent years to give the Best Play nominees almost no air time.
 
The video's description says 17 minutes.  The tribute, however, runs about 12 minutes – the remaining five are for the presentation of that year’s Best Play.

There's no reason not to give away the winner -- this is from 30 years ago, ago -- but I won't be specific.  What I will say, though, is that the author wrote one of my favorite plays and movies, which got an Oscar nomination as Best Picture despite being so small compared to most such-nominees, A Thousand Clowns.  If you know who wrote that, then you'll know the winner here.  If you didn't, you can guess and see if you're right  (P.S. They made a movie of this winning Best Play, as well, with Walter Matthau and Ossie Davis.)
 

This is a remarkable video in the annals of popular culture.

The 24-minute excerpt is from a 1964 BBC-TV discussion that’s largely between Orson Welles and Peter O’Toole talking about Shakespeare, theater and mostly Hamlet.   I suspect I could stop right there and just jump right to the video.  Making it all the more notable (if that's possible), though, is that its timing comes around the time when O’Toole was doing his infamous production at the National Theatre, attention-getting for its uncommon interpretation of the role and directed by Laurence Olivier.  (There’s a third actor involved in the conversion who I don’t know, though perhaps others reading this do, a veteran actor named Ernest Milton.) 

To be clear, "remarkable" doesn't mean always riveting.  There’s a great deal of pretentiousness here, and smug self-satisfaction -- though that's part of its fascination.  And eye-rolling as it sometimes gets, it is always fascinating. However, it just overwhelms with history and fascination, and even insight. A New Yorker magazine remembrance of O'Toole after his passing even referenced this video,  and the article notes how remarkable it is, among other things, that "O’Toole seems willing and able to discuss seventeenth-century Catholic doctrines of the afterlife."  (Welles, too.)  Mr. Milton seems mostly willing to discuss theater.
 
Adding to the sometimes-challenge of this is the surprisingly lousy camerawork, though at a certain point, who cares?  This is theater history, and I'm just glad it exists.  Even if you only watch 5-10 minutes, it's so richly worth it.  And you might well stick around for the whole thing.  And to round out matters and give full credit to everyone involved, the show is Monitor, and the host is Huw Wheldon.  A thanks to Clarence E. Jones III for the heads-up about this.

Here's a fun sketch from The Late Late Show where James Corden and Benedict Cumberbatch reminisce about their rivalry performing on stage back in London.