One hundred and three years ago, George Cohan penned the song, “Give My Regards To Broadway.” Ah, Broadway... where legends are born. Merman belting it out to the rafters, Laurette Taylor breaking hearts as Amanda in “The Glass Menagerie,” Elaine Stritch surviving decade after decade and rehab after rehab to still be one of broadways top stars in her eighties, Chita Rivera, Chita Rivera, Chita Rivera...
And now, Broadway awaits the opening of the stage version of “Xanadu.”
Jane Krakowski sells her soul and career to star in the Olivia Newton John role.
The set designer dries the ink on the final etchings of the roller disco. (Did we not learn from “Starlight Express?” which Krakowski was also in.)
Please prove me wrong. I admit I haven't even seen the entire movie. I was too frightened to. After about the fifteenth time they went around and around the roller rink, I had had enough. The ear piercing and bizarre ending with Olivia hitting the “dogs ears only” note and the bad 1980 special effects ending.
Yes. Yes, people, I am putting down Xanadu.
“But Rob!” The people respond, “Xanadu is a fantasy, an if you will, “Wizard of Oz” like fantasy... Gene Kelly is in it... there is a big 1940's-esque quality to the show... we thought you loved this kind of shit.”
I know, it just makes me annoyed that a bad 1980 movie that yes, has a quirky cult “Rocky Horror”-esque cult following is going to be a five million dollar broadway musical. I think the drugs that no doubt permeate the cement foundation of Times Square (residue from the seventies) has gotten into Broadway's blood stream.
Broadway is on crack.
Broadway needs rehab.
Take a tip from Elaine, move over Lindsay, Broadway stands before the coffee drinking crowd.
“Hi... my name is Broadway.”
“Hi Broadway!” The crowd murmers.
“My name is Broadway and I am on crack.”