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.
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?