I am amused when Broadway audiences applaud the set at the start of a show…as if the couch needs a boost in self-esteem.
But perhaps the set for Harvey, which is in previews on Broadway, needs just that.
About 20 minutes into the performance last night — as the home of Elwood P. Dowd transforms into the dread psychiatric hospital — a loud clunk was heard. The set shuddered. All action grinded to a halt.
And poor Jim Parsons, who was faux reading a book in the library, scurried away as they dropped the curtain.
The curtain dropped a lot last night; a cable snapped in the set mechanism that couldn’t be quickly repaired. So every time the set changed, the curtain dropped and the lights came up.
Harvey lasted almost three hours.
I intended to review the play today, but it wouldn’t be fair. While I found Jim Parsons’ Dowd utterly charming, the show itself didn’t get a fair shake because of the constant interruptions and expansive running time.
I was literally nodding off at the end. Bnd that wasn’t really Harvey’s fault…or was it?
Darn pooka.












Animal instinct
On my flight today, the proffered movie was Big Miracle, starring Drew Barrymore and John Krasinski — the whale movie, as you might remember it.
That’s how I did.
But I manned up and watched it today. And I was right. They found ways to make the animals — and me — suffer through this supposed feel-good story.
It’s so nice to cry with people you don’t know.
Which made the e-card that popped up in my Facebook feed today all the more timely:
You got that right.
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