Failure clings to your life history, like a black hole. . .

Seeing  Nora Ephron's   last play  Lucky Guy   was  a wonderful  theatrical  experience.   It was  tinged with sadness that    Ephron  no longer is no loger with us.
(my review: www.curtainup.com/luckyguy.html)

 But  we're lucky  in that  Ephron    left  a   rich legacy that includes  her last  collection  of witty  essays,  I Can't Remember Anything.    
 
While  I read most of  the pieces  before, re-visiting   them  less than  a year  after  her  death,   clearly   reveals  her  awareness   not just  of  old  age  but  the likelihood  that  she would not   live to  be really old  (she  was 71  years  young when she died). 

In  a  piece  called  "Flops"   Ephron   reflects  on   failure  and  how   her films  that flopped    will   stubbornly  remain part  of  her  history   along  with  hits  like  When  Sally Meets Harry  and  Sleepless in Seattle  (in which Tom Hanks the  star of  Lucky Guy also starred).

She capsulizes  this with -- what else--   a  simile. ..

But that flop sits there, in the history of your life, like a black hole with a wildly powerful magnetic field

Billy Porter sports Kinky Boots & arms hard as steel. . .

Even  before my own  "ünbooting" from 6 weeks in  a surgical boot  I couldn't  have  worn  those amazing  high heeled  boots  sported  by   the  cast  of  the  lively new musical  Kinky Boots,  the li first  two  Broadway shows  I saw  after my   enforced  hiatus.


Billy  Porter   is amazing  as  the show's    drag queen-turned   showy  shoe  designer.  But for all  his sexy   attire  and   bouffant  har--  his Lola   is   strong and muscular enough to   be  a champion boxer with  arms   he  similistically  describes  as   "hard as steel."

 

A clever "similist" with good page-to-stage potential

I'd  love to see Jami Attenberg  write a  play.  Having just read  her hilarious  yet sad  and  touching  novel  The Middlesteins,  I can  just picture  her do a  contemporary  tragi-comedy.  I  bought  the  book   as  a Kindle Daily Deal and even  though  that super bargain is no longer available,  this  saga  about  a  Chicago  Jewish family  whose  matriarch  is  gradually  killing herself with  compulsive  eating  definitely falls  into the  "good read" category,  and   you don't  have  to  be  Jewish to  appreciate   Attenberg's  vivid  multi-character  story. 

The Middlesteins     also fed  my  never-ending appetite  for colorful  tropes with  some tasty  tidbits,  a few of  which  follow.   

About  guilt feelings:   (and what's a  novel about Jews without a reference to guilt:  "guilt boiling in her stomach like an egg in hot water.

About  a  wife  criticizing  an  ever  less  nurturing spouse:
"She pecked at Richard constantly, as if she were a sparrow and he was some crumb just out of reach."

Attenberg    pictures the above couple's  increasingly  distant  bed habits as  "sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, clinging to their respective corners as if they were holding on to the edge of a cliff.

A failing   family business begins   "to  slowly crumble, like a sick tree limb infested with a mysterious fungus.

A theater critic goes netflixing

I picked up that new verb netflixing  from Annie Baker's  overlong but  absorbing new play  The Flick  which is  set in  an old  movie theater  built long  before Netflix  became common enough to become a  new verb.  (www.curtainup.com/flick.html)

I had time to go netflixing as a result of  a fractured ankle which kept me  out of the theater most of this month.  The highlight  of  that experience was watching  this enteprises first  venture into original  content--  a 13  part  Americanized version of  the BBC series House of Cards.  It   proved  to  be  a  great  way  to see  the excellence of work being done  by  people  in the theater  for   the screen.  

The main character   theater in the heavy cast of  characters  was Congressman Francis Underwood, a superb performance by Kevin Spacey.  Here's   a metaphoric   gem  by the  scheming Underwood's  dialogue:

On money:    Such a waste of talent. He chose money over power. In this town, a mistake nearly everyone makes. Money is the Mc-mansion in Sarasota that starts falling apart after 10 years. Power is the old stone building that stands for centuries. I cannot respect someone who doesn't see the difference.

. . .as easily forgotten as an umbrella

The title of  Will Self's new  novel Umbrella 

Umbrella”  the title  of Will Self's  new novel  comes

 from a  simile in Jame    Joyce’s Ulys­ses: “A brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella.” 

 As  for  the role  of  those titular umbrellas in Self's novel  they characterize  the  fate  of its  characters in this  epic  dramatic overview of  modernBritish  life.   For Self's  many  fans  the novel  will NOT  be as easily forgotten as  an  umbrella.

Simile of the day: Flow into like batter flowing into the grooves of a waffle iron

In “The Measure of Manhattan” (W.W. Norton, $26.95), Marguerite Holloway offers up a  biography of  John Randel Jr.,  the man y who codified Manhattan’s street grid early in the 19th century,   As  Professor Holloway explains the  response to that  new  street organization as follows:

New York City flowed into that form, like batter flowing into the grooves of a waffle iron.

Limelight is to theater critics as sunlight is to vampires.

 In  a  February  7th  by New York Times theater  piece,  "Theater Talkback: Stepping Into the Spotlight,  the paper's theater critic Ben Brantley started   his experience  as  an  audience member recruited to  join  the actors  on stage in  this metaphoric vein. . .

Limelight is to theater critics as sunlight is to vampires. We reviewers feel safest crouched in the shadows while we feast on the lifeblood and talent (or lack thereof) of the performers on the bright stage before us. Legend has it that if you drag a critic into the glare of the other side of the proscenium, he will hiss, shrivel and disintegrate like Dracula at dawn.