Promises Promises

So many reviews of Promises Promises out there, none of them great. There seems to be a feeling that the show is lacking in wattage. I have to say, I thought the proceedings were quite lively, the design quite beautiful and the acting and singing, for the most part, quite wonderful. What is it with critics? I guess they have a preconceived notion about how things should go. My biggest beef was that Sean Hayes didn't sing all that well---but no one else shared my opinion, so it was probably just jealousy on my part, having never starred in a Broadway play or nuttin. Ms. Chenoweth sang amazingly and yes, she was a bit long in the toothies to be up there as the ingenue. Whatever.

It's always good to hear Burt Bacharach live. And it was fun to go to opening night, Neil Simon and Burt up on stage for the curtain call, the apres party at The Plaza Hotel, star studded in a very homey way, people yacking and mingling and eating and drinking.

Go see the play. It's schnazzy. And the opening scene of Act II is so funny, a rough pickup on Christmas Eve, it is worth the price of admission. Brilliant.

But back to the party.

I realized something about New York City last night. It really is colonial Williamsburg. All tarted up in its special way and people acting accordingly to make it seem authentic. The rococo style of the grand ballroom of the Plaza is so silly. Our good friend Chrissy calls the style, "Hungarian Whorehouse."