"Keep Your Promise"

Obama made lots of promises to the GLBT community when he wanted our support to get elected. But since then, he's done virtually nothing for us. And last night at a big fundraiser in Beverly Hills he joked to the crowd that he saw a protester holding a sign saying "Obama, keep your promise," and he thought, "I don't know which one he's talking about."

I'm not laughing. Let's start with ending the HIV travel ban and Don't Ask, Don't Tell and move on from there.

Quick Thoughts on the Prop 8 Decision

Although yesterday's decision by the California Supreme Court to uphold Proposition 8 was, on one level, a major disappointment (a simple majority being allowed to vote away the rights of a minority seems un-American to me), I accept the results and generally agree with them.

First, whether I like it or not, the California Constitution allows the citizenry to amend it by a simple majority. Perhaps we need a new Constitution (our budgeting process is massively whacked, as well), but until then, we need to work with the one we have. And that one says only man-woman relationships can be called "marriage."

Second, the decision was very narrowly written, clearly stating that the only effect of Proposition 8 is to withhold that title of "marriage" from same-sex couples. We are allowed to be in relationships which have full legal equivalency, but (for now) they can't be called "marriages." Several activitists believe the decision was actually a win for marriage equality.

In addition, a judicial overturn of the "will of the people" (and as long as we're in the mood to eliminate rights, can we vote to outlaw toupees next, please?) would have resulted in a huge backlash against the courts and, by extension, to the gay community. No, it seems this is a freedom Californians will need to win at the ballot box.

But not in 2010, please. Although the community is already girding its loins for another electoral battle, wanting to capitalize on the marriage equality momentum from Iowa, Main, Connecticut and New Hampshire, I strongly believe 2010 is too soon. Last night I saw Gavin Newsom say something like, "We have to reconnect with the voters who weren't convinced last time and find ways of better persuading them."

I don't think the problem was persuasion - even though our campaign made some major errors. The problem is demographics. There are simply too many old people who see homosexuality as a scourge or a curse or a sin or some combination thereof. For many, no amount of logic or reason is going to change their minds.

On the other side of the coin, a solid majority of those under 40 have grown up in an era when many closet doors were blown wide open. They've watched "Will & Grace" and had friends in high school and college who were out. They've worked with openly gay people. For them, it's not really a big deal. It's even less of a deal to those under 30.

What we need to do is be patient and wait for a few hundred thousand old folks to die and a few hundred thousand teenagers to reach voting age.

2010 is too soon. Let's try 2012.

I'll Get Packing

I loved this house! (You may remember it from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off.") Only problem is that it's in Chicago, which is suitable for human habitation for only about seven weeks May and June and another six weeks in September and October.

5300 square feet. $2.3 million.

Fresh Cookies and Kink

Dan Savage addresses the seeming dichotomy presented by the gay community -- that though we generally seem to be less uptight about sexual matters (as he says: "Once you've told your momma that you wanna kiss boys giving yourself or your partner permission to indulge in this, that, or the other kink isn't anywhere near as scary."), we can still be rather ordinary in so many other respects:

"...there's nothing mutually exclusive about conspicuous displays of wholesome family values—like baking peanut butter cookies for your kids—and attending IML and indulging in the kinds of (preferably safe) sex acts that so shock and repel and redden the likes of Sally Kern."

Is It Really a Loss?

According to Seneca Doane at Daily Kos, today's decision on the validity of Proposition 8 may not be as big a defeat as initially thought: "It's hard to be outraged when a unanimous California Supreme Court just reiterated that California law gives every couple regardless of gender the fundamental right to be married in fact, even if voters have messed with the labels. Our opponents lost more today than we did."

Moments of Mayhem

A Chinese artist using acrobatics (backed up by the occasional wire, high jump pit, etc.) and tricky camera angles to fool us into thinking something dangerous is going on.

This Is Getting Ridiculous

We spent $25 million training him. He's served with honor for 18 years, winning nine medals. He has hundreds of hours of combat experience as an F-15 pilot. Now he is being discharged. Can you guess why? Of course you can.

We can't go on like this. DADT is an idiotic policy based on ignorance and prejudice. It has no place in America. It makes us less safe. It must be ended. Now.

Professional wrestling may be fake...

...but Jesse Ventura is as genuine as they come. Watch him put Elizabeth Hasselbeck into a sleeper hold on the torture issue.

I Loved 'Em Both

Watch My Favorite Movie (Star Trek vs. Star Wars) and more funny videos on CollegeHumor

The hero has a thousand and ONE faces.

Attention Cruise Lines

This seems like the sort of thing Princess Cruises would love to offer.

Brilliant Photo

The shuttle in silhouette against the sun. Stunning.

A Quick Note to Barack Obama

Earlier today, Barack Obama (or at least the administration) reneged on an earlier commitment to release more photos of prisoner abuse, one assumes similar in tone to the famed snaps of Lynndie England posing with piles of naked prisoners. His reason? "The most direct consequence of releasing (the photos), I believe, would further flame anti-American opinion and to put our troops in greater danger. ... I fear the publication of these photos may only have a chilling effect on future investigations of detainee abuse."

If I could slip him a note, here's what I'd write:

Mr. President -- it frightens me that I have to tell you this, but nonetheless you seem to have missed something very important. That is, that releasing those torture photos will make our troops safer than if you keep them classified. Letting the world see them sends the signal that America plans to deal - in an open, honest way -- with the fact that we tortured prisoners.

Of course, as you obviously realize, if we do this facing-up with anything approaching honesty your predecessor might be standing trial for war crimes. And since you (or rather AG Holder) seem to have no intention of bringing anyone to justice for these crimes, my guess is that you've decided not to take even a step down the path toward that rather substantial bit of terra incognita. Best not even think about it. Here be dragons. Releasing photos says you plan to do something. But since it looks like you plan on doing nothing, maybe you're right. Maybe releasing the photos would only tease the global community that America might be willing to own up to our bad behavior.

If you really want to make our troops safer, release the photos. Let the world know America is taking responsibility for our actions. Send clear signals that we will not let it happen again. Punish those who made this horrific error.

By keeping those photos classified, the world realizes we have no intention of giving up "enhanced interrogation." That we'd waterboard anyone we liked anytime we liked if we thought it furthered our interests. The message we send is that nothing, really, has changed.

And that, Mr. President, is how you recruit martyrs and make Americans everywhere less safe.

Getting the Vapors

Although it's nothing I've ever considered doing -- or even considered possible -- but a club in London has found a new way to knock back a couple of stiff ones.

"The concoction was top-shelf--Hendrick's gin and Fever Tree tonic--and when shot through a humidifier the gin's cucumber and juniper aromas came through to full effect. It was a pleasant scent, and I could imagine the boozy facial being a hit at a girl's spa weekend. But in a small subterranean room, lit by a single, bare bulb and filled with strangers in baggy white jumpsuits, it made for a decidedly strange, Willy Wonka Saturday night bar scene."

Lose the Shame

Writing on The Huffington Post, blogger Lane Hudson notes how quiet the White House has been regarding the progress of marriage equality.

Money quote: "Here's the problem: Everybody knows the Democrats are for equality for the gays. The Republicans have spent a gazillion dollars telling everybody that for the past 18 years or so. So when a Democrat back tracks and falls all over himself to answer a 'gay' question, it shows fear. It shows dishonesty. And nobody's buying it."

So Washington should get over it, do the right thing and embrace equality. Is that so wrong?

Maine House Votes for Marriage Equality

Just a while ago, the Maine House voted to approve marriage equality in the Pine Tree State. The governor, who has in the past expressed opposition to same-sex marriage still has to sign the bill in order for it to become law. However, his position has softened in recent months. Recently he said “I was opposed to this for a long time, but people evolve, people change as time goes by.” So there's hope.

In addition, the Washington D.C. Council voted 12-1 (with only crackhead Marion Berry voting no -- always good to have him on the other side of your issue!) to recognize same-sex marriages performed in other states.

Equality is rolling, and it will be VERY interesting to see what happens when the California Supreme Court rules on whether Proposition 8 is a constitutional amendment or a revision. Whichever way it goes, it's going to make a big impact in the battle.

New York, Spring 2009 -- Day 13 "Happiness"

There's a reason why you can only copyright a script and not an idea for a script: a good idea isn't enough. This was made crystal clear to me on my last night in New York during the performance of "Happiness," the new musical by the same team that brought us the brilliant "Contact." The new show director/choreographer Susan Stroman and writer John Weidman (with help from the musical team behind "Grey Gardens") have staged at the Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater at Lincoln Center takes a clever concept and cripples it with cliches and rampant two-dimensionality.

The set-up of "Happiness" is this: a group of people find themselves on a New York subway car that stops suddenly, leaving them all trapped below ground. We first meet the characters (nine of them) as they rush to get wherever it is they're headed and are bludgeoned with the fact that they are either all so self-absorbed, depressed or out of touch that they aren't appreciating the joy of life.

As it turns out, they've lost their last chance to do so. They're all actually dead and the subway car is the waystation to the afterlife where Stanley the Train Man (Hunter Foster, doing his best to rescue this bit of treacle) informs them that they are each to choose one "perfect moment." Each of the moments is remembered via song and dance. In the first vignette the music and dance are organic -- an old woman chooses a WWII USO dance when a young private asked her to be his girl -- but in most of the other situations the music is stapled in place.

Once each has chosen their moment, the car doors will open and they will be able to live in that moment for eternity.

Unfortunately, virtually all the moments are ridiculous cliches and all the characters cardboard cutouts of real people. Joanna Gleason as a right-wing radio host (a more senior version of Ann Coulter it seems) gets off some good lines (of the senior citizen member of the group she says: "She'd make a great book -- the greatest generation remembers. But not much."), but she never feels real. Especially when her perfect moment turns out to be a night in the 60s when she was celebrating an election win by Eugene McCarthy, dropped acid and gave Mick Jagger a hummer. Apparently it represented the last night she held on to the liberal ideals she once loved. Yeah, didn't make sense to me, either. There's the doorman who remembers going to a World Series game with his dad; they were supposed to get the best seats in the house as a gift, but that didn't work out so dad buys the worst seats -- that turn out to be the best. There's the cruel lawyer, the clueless bike messenger/deadbeat dad who finally comes through, the harried (married) medical interns who choose the same perfect moment (everyone now..."awwww!"), the gay interior decorator with the sassy comebacks, etc.

This could be an interesting show if it had some of the tension and honesty that "Contact" did. As it is, it begins weakly, sputters with signs of life from time to time (e.g. one of the deceased remembering the embarrassing web page he left on his computer screen), but finally circles the drain before slipping off into its own afterlife. I can't imagine anyone in the audience choosing that night at the theater as their perfect moment.

New York, Spring 2009 -- Day 12 "Irena's Vow"

It's always difficult to criticize a play (or movie or book or mini-series) about the Holocaust. (It's even harder to applaud at the end of the play for an actor in a Nazi uniform; it just feels odd.) I don't really intend to criticize "Irena's Vow" too deeply. But I don't intend to praise it, either.

The show, by Dan Gordon, now playing at the Walter Kerr Theater, competently and simply tells the story of Irena Gut Opdyk, a pious Polish Catholic woman who was pressed into working for the Germans during their occupation of Poland. At the same time that she learns of plans to exterminate the Jews of the region, she is also offered the position of housekeeper for the German commandant. Irena decides -- in a brilliant bit of strategic thinking -- that the best place for the 11 Jewish men and women who had been working under her would be in the cellar of the commandant's new villa.

It's an amazing story by any measure (and became even more amazing when the daughter of Irena Gut Opdyk walked onstage at the conclusion of the play to answer questions and share some additional aspects of the story), but for a Broadway offering, "Irena's Vow" never really finds its feet. It's workmanlike, and if the story interests you, it's worth seeing, but it lacks the oomph required for me to wholeheartedly recommend it.

New York, Spring 2009 -- Day 11 "Blithe Spirit" "Why Torture is Wrong and the People Who Love Them"

"Blithe Spirit"
To be honest with you, I'm a lot more excited about "Why Torture is Wrong and the People Who Love Them," so I'm going to cut to the chase on "Blithe Spirit": Angela Lansbury is wonderful, and it's exciting to see her doing such good work at 84. Rupert Everett is not aging well, and he's still not quite 50. Christine Ebersole is elegant and ethereal. My favorite cast member was Susan Louise O'Connor as Edith, the maid. The play itself is witty at times, but a bit clunky. Production rather lackluster overall.

Now, on to...



"Why Torture is Wrong and the People Who Love Them"
Without spoiling your evening, "Why Torture..." is not really about torture. It's about reconciliation. It's about the desire to take back your bad decisions and make things right again. But since it's written by Christopher Durang, it goes at these serious issues in a relatively absurd, outlandish, biting, and frequently brilliant fashion.

The story is simple: Felicity (Laura Benanti) awakes after a night of drinking to find herself married to Zamir (Amir Arison), a man of vague Middle Eastern descent -- but who claims he is Irish. When Zamir turns out to have an extremely volatile temper, no job and no prospects, plus a mysterious past, Felicity decides to annul the marriage. Since Zamir threatens violence at this suggestion, Felicity turns to her parents for help -- especially her arch-conservative father, Leonard (Richard Poe).

Leonard obsessively toes all the Conservative lines: hates immigrants, loves guns, thinks the gays ruined marriage, won't have the U.N. spoken of in a positive way in his home and thinks shouting "Don't you remember 9/11?" atones for any statement of xenophobia, paranoia or incitement to violence. He's like one of the suits in a Tom Tomorrow cartoon: spouting the justifications of the Limbaugh dittoheads with such unashamed fervor that it lays bare the ridiculousness of their positions.

When Dad meets Zamir, you can imagine where his mind leads him. Actually, given the whacked nature of the world Durang has created, you probably can't. Which is exactly why you should see "Why Torture is Wrong and the People Who Love Them" as soon as you can, especially since it is scheduled to close May 10. Go if for no other reason than to see the brilliant comic actress Kristine Nielsen as Felicity's mother, Luella, who has built a wall of denial that would put the Chinese to shame. Go to see John Pankow's Reverend Mike (he married Felicity and Zamir), a Christian who actually champions the true principles of Christ (love, forgiveness, kindness, gentleness), while at the same time being a pornographer. ("God created sex. He watches it, why shouldn't we?") Go for the amazing turntable set that is able to create so many different settings that it is almost like a magic trick.

If I were being critical, I'd say the play is a bit loose in its timing, and starts a little slowly -- but I was laughing too hard and thinking too much to really be critical. This is satire that cuts so cleanly that it takes a while to realize you're up to your ankles in blood.

New York, Spring 2009 -- Day Ten "Offices" "Sleepwalk With Me" "9 to 5"

"Offices"
Move along, nothing to see here. An interesting, talented cast, with taut direction from Neil Pepe, on a great set by Riccardo Hernandez... performing what feels like a set of sketches or notes for a larger work. I love the Coen Brothers (Ethan [that's him in the picture] wrote this collection of three short plays that all take place in bland offices), but despite some good lines and some funny physical business, this isn't a play, it's a workshop.


"Sleepwalk With Me"
Since Mike Birbiglia, the writer and performer of this monologue/stand-up act confesses in the show that he subscribes to a Google alert that lets him know when he's mentioned in a blog, I'm going to assume he's reading this, so I'll address the rest of this post to him:

"Mike:

At one time I had some sleep disturbance issues, and before I saw the show I had this fantasy of hanging out afterward to meet you and share what-I-did-while-I-thought-I-was-asleep stories. But dude, I got nothin' on you. Sure, our stories have some similar aspects -- raised Catholic, ADD, insomnia, spending time in a relationship that we weren't being totally honest about, working as stand-ups...there may be a few more. But there were important differences, too. First, you took the sleepwalking shit to a whole new level. Second, you're actually a good standup -- I sucked. Not so much I didn't get paid, but enough that choosing a different career was a wise choice. So I didn't stay after. (But if you want to hear my semi-hilarious stories about sleep issues that I once considered doing a monologue on, send me a mail. We'll talk. I also want to hear your theory on bisexuality to which you referred but never expanded on.)

In the meantime, rest assured that I think your show is terrific. Funny, insightful, great timing, brilliant call-backs. I even became a Facebook fan. And if I took the effort to do that, well...

Anyway, I'll tell my New York friends -- and all eight readers of this blog -- that "Sleepwalk With Me" represents the best laugh-per-dollar ratio of any show we've seen in New York this trip."

Now, so I'm not lying to Mike: "Sleepwalk With Me" represents the best laugh-per-dollar ratio of any show we've seen in New York this trip. Go see it.

"9 to 5"
If you have fond memories of the 1980 film and are looking for a mostly faithful staged recreation of the film, you'll love the new show opening this week at the Marquis Theater. On the other hand, if you're hoping for a reinvention of the Dolly Parton-Lily Tomlin-Jane Fonda reeler, look elsewhere, as there is very little that is fresh about this effort. Oh, a few new lines have been added and the Lily Tomlin character gets a love interest (which I don't believe happened in the movie -- it was so long ago), but that's about it.

Not that that's so awful. "9 to 5" is a highly-entertaining -- if ridiculously implausible -- story, filled with outsize characters and farcical action. In fact, it's the elements of farce that give "9 to 5" the musical its biggest boost. The physical action -- especially the kidnapping of villain CEO Franklin Hart -- is perfect for the stage. All this -- the solid foundation of a good story and lovable (and hateable) characters -- combined with top-notch work in staging and lighting, plus a first-rate troupe of choristers make "9 to 5" a crowd-pleaser.

Unfortunately, for this member of the crowd, the production never really found its feet. Allison Janney (in the Lily Tomlin role), much as I love her acting, doesn't seem comfortable in the part yet. Her voice, while pleasing and in pitch, simply isn't powerful enough for a Broadway house. There's no Susan Boyle moment here. The other key roles are strong, but the cast doesn't feel like a true ensemble yet.

That said, the audience loved the show (and I loved being able to say "hello" to John Cleese, one of my heroes, who was sitting behind me), and it should have a decent run, especially with female audiences, who will no doubt appreciate the "womyn-power" theme. I'm guessing the mostly male crowd of critics will be a tad less kind.

New York, Spring 2009 -- Day Nine "33 Variations"

The big news about "33 Variations," the new Moises Kaufman play at the Eugene O'Neill Theatre, was the return to the Broadway stage (after a three decade absence) of Jane Fonda. Broadway seems to love it when big Hollywood stars return to the boards. They bring in new audiences and call attention to the world of legitimate theater, which mostly flies under the entertainment world radar.

Unfortunately, critics are rarely kind to the stars of the silver screen when they are there for the viewing night after night, in ordinary life-size proportion. Perhaps it's a case of familiarity breeding contempt. Once stars are there before our eyes in flesh and blood form, instead of gigantic representations in dancing light, perhaps something is lost in the minds of critics.

But this time around, Jane Fonda has bucked the trend and received mostly positive notices for her performance. Unfortunately, the play itself is coming under fire. I say unfortunate because I had a delightful evening. Not only was Jane terrific -- sincere, honest, displaying a wonderful, graceful physicality -- the play was compelling and entertaining, if occasionally a tad facile and predictable.

Fonda plays Dr. Catherine Brandt, a musicologist who has fallen ill but is obsessed with completing a final monograph before she dies. The subject of the paper is Beethoven's "33 Variations on a waltz by Anton Diabelli." Brandt has, after months of pleading, been given access to the Beethoven archives in Bonn, where she hopes to discover why Beethoven, in the last years of his life, spent so much time composing so many variations on such a simple, almost amateurish piece of dance music.

The scene shifts between the present day (incorporating the conflict between Brandt and her daughter, plus a budding relationship between the daughter and Brandt's nurse, Mike, and a friendship between Brandt and the scholar who oversees the archive and works closely with Brandt), and the early 19th century, where we see the imagined interaction between Beethoven, his assistant Shindler, and Anton Diabelli, Beethoven's publisher and -- for this project only -- collaborator/inspiration.

There's an intellectual mystery being solved here -- and like all mysteries, it takes a little attention. Dr. Brandt pores over the maestro's sketchbooks, even searching the "conversation books" used late in his life when he had gone completely deaf and visitors had to write their comments and questions to him. There's something compelling about watching a powerful mind attempt to solve a puzzle using only limited and ultimately inadequate evidence.

The bigger story, however, is not the search for the reason Beethoven chose to spend so much time on variations of what has been deemed an inconsequential piece of music, but the search for meaning in any life. Almost everyone in this play is obsessed: Catherine with solving the mystery, Beethoven with plumbing the depths of Diabelli's waltz, Diabelli with getting the variations published, Catherine's daughter with helping her mother deal with her illness, Mike with winning the daughter's love. Everyone, it seems, it caught up in the unsatisfying business of trying to explain the unexplainable or grasp the incomprehensible.

The mystery Catherine has taken on is really the ultimate mystery. As she says in the second act, "Beethoven exists in the silences." There is triple meaning to this, as she is referring first to the conversation books where only Beethoven's visitor's questions and comments were written out -- the maestro's replies were spoken and therefore lost to history. The second silence is the silence between notes; without it, music would not be music, but continuous noise, lacking rhythm, melody or dynamic range. But it's the third silence that is most important -- the silence of the void looming over both Beethoven and Catherine, both facing a too-imminent death.

Kaufman does a fascinating parallel to highlight the journey to silence: Beethoven is losing his hearing, Catherine her ability to speak. Too soon, both of these brilliant minds will be forced into a quiet neither desires -- but which may deliver unanticipated blessings. As they travel this hard, narrow path, Kaufman allows we in the audience to focus on our own search for the ineffable.

"33 Variations" is beautifully staged, well-acted, elegantly and efficiently directed, and well worth your time -- though you'll have to hurry, as Jane Fonda will be returning to the life of a movie star all too soon.