Whatever happened to class, respect, civility, or just plain good manners

What the hell is happening with Broadway audiences?? Is baiting theater legend Patti LuPone the source for new “Karen videos” aiming at creative dis-content infamy? What about Jesse Williams‘s nude scene in the play “Take Me Out” being shot and posted onto Twitter?! Why are we hellbent on ruining the once simple pleasure of enjoying live theater in such a callous, selfish way?

As our social mores continue their sad, rapid decline, I seriously thought live theater would be the last bastion of good taste and deportment. I guess I should have known the writing was on the wall the last time I attended a play on Broadway (“Burn This” in 2019) which was attended by more people in flip flops and shorts than I’ve ever seen. The recent events involving Ms. LuPone and Mr. Williams just adds more fuel to the pyre.

Live theater became a religion for me in 1983 when I took my first trip to NYC. The original productions of La Cage aux Folles and My One and Only, plus Nine and Doonesbury the Musical were my first Broadway musicals, a transformative experience to say the least. The audiences could not have been more respectful or well-heeled. I even wore a tie to each performance. Yet, reading the latest headlines of hooliganism on the Great White Way makes me ponder when it all went south.

Theater legend Patti LuPone (Photo: Twitter)

We’ve seen how the toxicity of hooliganism transforms sporting events into something both demeaning and dangerous. Yet, since talk shows such as “Jerry Springer” and “Ricki Lake” started rewarding bad behavior with a rabid television audience leering for more, are we that surprised as to what passes for “class” today? Screaming at people is an art form thanks to those reality shows involving “real housewives” and other scions of dysfunction. But the toxicity level hit its vertiginous peak with the rise of social media, allowing for the telebasura or TV Trash to be captured, crafted, and posted with incredible ease. Witnessing “Karens in the Wild” best sums up our complete breakdown of manners and civility in any public space, big or small. So much so, the Trumpian Era of politics ushered levels so base and classless behavior it succeeded in re-branding the Ugly American into a superbeing.

America’s “finest”: Lauren Boebert & Marjorie Taylor Greene in action. (Photo: NBC News)

How can any rational discourse, much less good manners, exist in a world where human hyenas fight for camera time on Fox News or the floor of the Capitol Building. More, this lack of boundaries and good taste is giving free license to people to use their mobile phones as weapons of mass distraction. As to their endgame, I can only imagine it is fuel their desperate need for views and followers to validate their self-worth while promoting their ravenous desire for attention and status.

How do we turn the tide? With the NY theater community still reeling from the creative and financial meltdown caused by the COVID pandemic, that several houses and productions are bouncing back is a veritable miracle. The venues are getting stricter by locking down mobile phones, extending the mask mandates, and other health-driven initiatives. But what about the audience itself? At what point do we engage a mandate for people to stop being for damn loathsome in public? This era of constant whining, lack of accountability, and good sense is not how we achieve greatness. With our hard-earned democracy in shambles while the MAGA-fueled right fiddles as Rome burns, maybe complaining about shitty audiences seems like a waste of time.

But take a good look around you and ask yourself, “What ever happened to class?”

We share and resend the motto memes of “Be the change you want to see in the world.” Unless we start making that happen now, I’m honestly hoping for an asteroid to take charge already and slam into this damaged planet.

Cue 1975’s classic showtune from Bob Fosse’s Chicago, written by John Kander and Fred Ebb. It was cut from the 2002 Oscar-winning film version, but thankfully it was shot with Queen Latifah and Catherine Zeta-Jones and included with the home entertainment special features as a deleted scene.

Quotes, Charles Busch (via Seth Rudetsky) Edition

Theater lovers adored Charles Busch’s acclaimed stage comedy The Tale Of The Allergist’s

Courtesy of Playbill.com

 Wife when it premiered in 2000, running off-Broadway, Broadway, and a national tour. One of the breakout stars was then 80-year-old Shirl Bernheim.

When the play was casting, Bernheim through her hat in the ring and became a fantastic anecdote in the process. As relayed by Seth Rudetsky of Playbill.com, it was quite a fortuitous moment:

“She didn’t have any Broadway credits, but she was fantastic and had her own walker. She got the gig and did the show on Broadway and on national tour.

Charles said she was “quite a character”! As a matter, after she passed away, there was a memorial for her, and her understudy told everyone that before each performance, she would check in on Shirl. The conversation would be this:

Understudy: How are you tonight, Shirl?

Shirl (whirling around): What? Are you hoping I’ll break my hip?

#QuiteACharacter

Art by Al Hirschfeld

Now you know. Sometimes, all you need is a little Sondheim — #musicalmondays

If you know me, then you know how much I revere the art and artistry of Stephen Sondheim. His ability to drive narratives with some of the most stirring music and insightful wordplay is beyond compare. More, he is one of the few songwriters who can give voice to the many selves we carry inside.

It’s been illuminating to see his most iconic shows on Broadway, particularly since turning the ages of the characters that impacted me most. “Company,” “Sunday in the Park with George,” “Follies” and “Gypsy” all transcended what I initially felt for such musicals a kid. As an adult, his contemplative themes of youth, age, fear, death, life and, especially love, shed their romance and to become something tangible. The intricacies of the melodies and the precision of his lyrics revealed to me as much about the real world as any relationship or friendship I’ve encountered in over 40 years of living. I hope to tell him that in person some day.

One Sondheim show that has eluded me is “Merrily We Roll Along,” which annoys me because of its connection to my high school days. Believe it or not, I dared to act and sing while at El Rancho High. Our drama teacher Stan Wlasick was often bold in his choices for this Chicano-centric school located in the jewel of the SGV, Pico Rivera. He was going to stage “Merrily…,” a show even New Yorkers failed to embrace when it debuted on Broadway in the early 80s. But the show had so much to say about the idealism of youth and how we corrupt ourselves with success and other trappings of adult life.

Granted, what do any teenagers know about such themes? Hell, I played disillusioned and unhappily married Dr. Jim Bayliss in the ERHS production of Arthur Miller’s “All My Sons.” (A harbinger to come? No. But it was so cool to tell that to Miller in person. Short version: he laughed over my anecdote. I’ll save the full version for my book.)

I so wanted to play the part of writer Charley Kringas. I felt such a connection to him. He was the second banana to his glamorous bestie Frank Shephard and I understood that. (I wasn’t meant to be center stage, even then. But I knew I had something to contribute to the show that is life, you know? I just didn’t want to be languishing in the background.)

Charley and Frank formed part of a trio of friends, which included Mary, who carries an undying torch for Frank. The beauty of their story is that it is told in reverse. We see what they’ve become at the start, and it’s not good. Frank is an jaded egomaniac, about to divorce his glamorous second wife. Charley carries bitter resentment over losing his best friend and writing partner. Mary’s unrequited love is steeped in acrimony and alcohol. But, what makes “Merrily…” such a profound piece is seeing where they all begin. They are the epitome of youth, looking at the future in the horizon with such hopes and dreams.

We’ve all entertained thoughts of “If only I could go back…” It isn’t magic that fuels “Merrily,” just this voyeuristic look into people’s lives in reverse. It is an imperfect show, but it is an unforgettable one.

I was able to witness a digital broadcast of the Menier Chocolate Factory’s production last year with my dear friend, Mimi G., herself a young actress with her star on the rise. (Now that I think of it, we were the embodiment of what the show was about. Maturity and youth. Interesting….) Needless to say, we both had strong emotional reactions to our respective halves of the show. It was a near perfect production, but man, I want to see it staged for real.

One of the key songs, outside of the longing ballad “Not a Day Goes By” is Mary’s acceptance of how life will disappoint you. Given what’s been happening around me of late, the song “Now You Know” seems awfully apropos. At one point, she sings:

“It’s called letting go your illusions and don’t confuse them with dreams.”

I don’t confuse illusions with dreams, at least not anymore. And life can be crummy. But we don’t have to fall apart, even if it feels like everything is so broken. The emotions of this complex year did overwhelm me. And we’re not out of the woods yet. But none of us are alone, either.

Now you know…

Monday, October 27. Written and posted from Wayne Avenue Manor in South Pasadena.

NOW YOU KNOW by Stephen Sondheim

“All right, now you know:
Life is crummy.
Well, now you know.

I mean, big surprise:
People love you and tell you lies.
Bricks can fall out of clear blue skies.
Put your dimple down,
Now you know.

Okay, there you go ?
Learn to live with it,
Now you know.

It’s called flowers wilt,
It’s called apples rot,
It’s called theives get rich and saints get shot,
It’s called God don’t answer prayers a lot,
Okay, now you know.

Okay, now you know,
Now forget it.
Don’t fall apart at the seams.
It’s called letting go your illusions,
And don’t confuse them with dreams.

Yes sir, quite a blow ?
Don’t regret it,
And don’t let’s go to extremes.
It’s called what’s your choice?
It’s called count to ten.
It’s called burn your bridges, start again.
You should burn them every now and then
Or you’ll never grow!

Because now you grow.
That’s the killer, is
Now you grow.

You’re right, nothing’s fair,
And it’s all a plot,
And tomorrow doesn’t look so hot ?
Right, you better look at what you’ve got:
Over here, hello?
Okay, now you know,
Right?”