Here are the highlights from my very vivid three-hour viewing experience. Hold your applause till the end:
Interviewed on the red carpet, Tyne Daly dismissively said the Tonys are a race meant for everyone else, “not for us.” She wasn’t nominated.
How bad were the musicals this year? So bad that they started the Tonys with a number from last year’s Best Musical.
It sounds like a laugh track is swelling after all the jokes the host and presenters are reciting. So much for the spontaneous joys of live theater.
The little Annie girl is a charmer, with the best comic chops on that stage. Scary.
Mike Nichols needs a director. (But his slightly dizzy speech–looking at his sheet of paper to see the name of Death of a Salesman–was kind of sweet. A true legend.)
Judy Kaye gives great speech. “I guess chandeliers have been very, very good to me.” Then the bit about her husband knowing about the care and feeding of a diva. Then the mention of her father, who died last week. Pricelessly warm and human.
Diner the musical is coming, with a score by Sheryl Crow? The big song will definitely not be “Nothing could be finer than to sit here in a diner and to finger your vaginer…”
Porgy should do a duet with “Crutchie” from Newsies.
Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman beat Gore Vidal’s The Best Man for revival. Michael Musto’s La Daily Musto, The Play wasn’t even nominated.
When I think Broadway, I think Tyler Perry and Josh Groban.
Scott Rudin could have won for both Best Revival and Best Play, but he pulled out of Clybourne Park.
In that cruiseship Hairspray sampling, the Tracy was too thin and too old and the Edna was trying too hard to vocally show that he’s a man. Oh, well. At least they have buffets and shuffleboard.
The Gershwins’ Porgy & Bess won for Best Musical Revival. Sondheim’s writing a letter as we speak.
Hugh Jackman re the wife: “She’s never kept a secret her entire life!” Hmm, really?
Considering the wins of Christian Borle, James Corden, and Nina Arianda (above), the voters really made good choices! They weren’t blinded by celebrity or obviousness this time.
Audra’s remark about what an honor it is “getting raped by Philip Boykin every night” was in questionable taste, which is probably why I found it funny.
Nina Arianda is the new Lady Gaga.
Stop! You’re welcome! No, come on, enough!