The 2015 Tony Awards: Red Carpet Review

Last night was the biggest night on Broadway: the annual Tony Awards! Co-hosted by Alan Cumming and Kristin Chenoweth, the ceremony was surprisingly bland, as – for the most part – were the red carpet fashions. But there were a few looks worth mentioning. Just for a change of pace, I’m breaking them into categories by guests, attendees, presenters, nominees, and winners.

Guests:

As the non-celebrity spouse or guest of a celebrity, it can’t be easy to walk that fine line between dressing well enough to not look out of place but not well enough to overshadow the star (or to look like you’re trying too hard to join the celebrity ranks). Several spouses did a particularly fine job of treading that line last night.

Robin Dearden, on the arm of a beautifully tuxedoed Bryan Cranston, chose a long, Asian-inspired black column with silver and blue patterning, sheer sleeves, and thigh-high side slits, paired with sparkly chandelier earrings and matching clutch. Flattering, interesting, and nicely accessorized, this look hit just the right notes.

Daena Title, on the arm of Jason Alexander, wowed in this soft gray and silver off-the-shoulder gown echoing her stylish hair, accessorized with a black lace wrap and fabulous silver sandals. The color, cut, and accessories are simple but lovely and flowy. A perfect way to go Bohemian chic.

Attendees:

Vanessa Hudgens’ huge poppy print halter gown with full skirt, paired with a feminine braided coronet hairstyle and coordinating lip color, was fresh and flattering. A lovely youthful yet mature look.

I loved Emily Ratajkowski’s deep blue gown. The broad criss-cross of the bodice is sexy but not overly revealing, the gathered lines at the waist soften the straight silhouette, and the detailing along the side seams is absolutely gorgeous. Unfortunately, the belt is sitting about an inch lower than it should be, and the straight skirt should be skimming the floor, not puddling on it.

Amber Valletta’s look was unusual and chic. I loved the starkness of the short sheath paired with softness of the long, angled side drape. My only objection is that the bodice is cut so low that it looks like it’s about to slip off, and the buckle right at the point of her bust draws attention to an odd spot.

Nicole Warne’s ice blue, ballet-inspired gown featured gorgeous lace and beading at the waist and down the tulle skirt, and the bodice was beautifully fitted, but the long sleeves and high neck are a bit too prissy for the overall look. Perhaps a bit of beading at the neck or a neckline with a bit more visual interest could have turned this “nice” look into a terrific look.

Presenters:

Presenters, generally past Tony winners, also have to walk the fine line of presenting themselves well without overshadowing the winners to whom they are presenting.

Host Kristin Chenoweth wore this clingy silver column on the red carpet, but then proceeded to have about a dozen costume changes over the course of the evening. I liked this column with the exception of the overplumped look of her cleavage. It flatters her curves and is well-proportioned to her tiny frame, although I would have loved to see a tiny pop of color in a bit of jewelry, such as a cuff bracelet or a short necklace. But my favorite look of the evening on her was the deep red bias-cut satin gown she wore towards the end of the broadcast. I loved the “corkscrew” look carried out from the shoulder strap, through the gathers on the bodice, the seaming across the hip, and the drape around the skirt. Her hair was a complete disaster but the gown was stunning.

Presenter Rose Byrne’s scarlet gown had a lovely silhouette and interesting draped shoulder details, but the lines of the open bodice looked a bit droopy. If only that zipper had gone up another 6 or 8 inches, this gown would have been stunning.

At first glance, I found Sutton Foster’s gown to be a bit casual, due to the soft fabric. But the warm chocolate color of the bodice fading in graceful ripples into peachy-pink at the full hem grew on me, particularly when I saw how beautifully it moved. And it suits her personality, which always makes a dress come to life, for me.

Presenting as a team with her father, the legendary Joel Grey, Jennifer Grey’s white column kept its details limited to the texture, with rich lace cascading into subtle eyelash fuzz from the knees to the hem. Paired with natural makeup and simple beach waves in her sun-kissed hair, she looked classic and elegant.

Showing how NOT to do a lacy white gown, Kiesza’s white disaster overused textures, looking torn and papery and disproportionate and just a general mess, and her exaggerated cats-eye eyeliner and asymmetrical curly updo did not work with it at all. At least she seemed delighted with her look.

Presenter Jennifer Lopez is a good example of how important the fit of a gown is. The lines, color, fabric, and detailing of this midnight-blue gown with gold sparkling stars are all absolutely stunning, but the bodice looks uncomfortably stiff and tight and ruins the effect. But points for the dark lipstick, retro hairstyle, and diamond bracelet.

Bernadette Peters was yet another argument for the importance of good fit. You can’t stuff 10 pounds of sugar into a 5-pound bag, or you get all those crinkles across your midsection. Few people other than Bernadette could have pulled off this unusual color, and if the gown had been just a bit less cinched, it could have been one of the best looks of the night.

Presenter Phylicia Rashad also chose a flattering color for her, in an iridescent deep blue-purple gown and matching long jacket. The flared cuffs were a bit too full for my taste, but I loved the sapphire choker. A flattering and elegant look for an older star.

Presenter Amanda Seyfried opted for a short dress rather than a gown, in a pretty black and metallic gold print. I liked the dress, but its stark cut and color needed softer hair and makeup to offset it and dress it up a bit. The severity of the look aged her.

The concept of Ashley Tisdale’s look was great: A structured avant garde flared halter paired with full pants. Unfortunately, the halter was too stiff to be flattering, the pleats in the pants didn’t fall right, creating odd lines as she moved, the high waist looked old-mannish – and paired with the mere peep of midsection, looked like a mistake. 

I loved a lot of the individual details of Rita Wilson’s dress, but there were just too many and too much. Too shiny fabric, too wavy lines, too deep cutouts. Making it into a sleeveless halter would remove much of the “overdoneness” and could have turned it into a stunner.

Jennifer Nettles’ champagne-colored, Grecian-styled gown had just enough unexpected details to keep it from being bland, including an asymmetrical angled bodice and an eye-catching brooch on the strap. Chandelier earrings, a delicate diamond bracelet, and a high-fronted updo completed her elegant look. \

Nominees:

Best Actress in a Musical nominee Leanne Cope wore one of my favorite looks of the evening, this stunning silvery-gray, fitted to the hip, flared, tea-length halter. The bare shoulders and clean lines show off her perfect skin and dramatic coloring. I love her simple hairstyle and clean makeup. She’d look great wearing a burlap sack, but this gown won the evening.

Best Featured Actress in a Musical nominee Victoria Clark wore a lovely midnight blue gown, with a fitted bodice with lacy cutouts and a gauzy full skirt which moved beautifully. A great dramatic look.

Ten-year-old Best Featured Actress nominee Sydney Lucas looked grown up yet age-appropriate in a lovely tea-length white textured gown paired with gold ballet flats, a flippy bob, and the world’s happiest smile. What a delight she was, both performing on stage and beaming on the red carpet.

Best Featured Actress in a Play nominee Patricia Clarkson let the gorgeous fabric itself be the star of her tea-length, A-line gown with simple round neckline didn’t need any accessories other than the matching clutch (which she was obviously delighted about) and red lipstick. A prime example of less is more.

Best Actress in a Play nominee Elisabeth Moss looked spectacular in a snow-white halter dress with bright flowers cascading from the bodice. Clean lines and a perfect fit made for a perfect look.

Fellow Best Actress in a Play nominee Ruth Wilson wore a vivid magenta gown with a tightly-fitted, T-shirt-styled top, flaring low at the hips into a full skirt. The bodice was too simple and unadorned – perhaps a v-neck or even a long pendant could have broken it up – and the clashing shade of lipstick just didn’t work for me.

Yet another Best Actress in a Play nominee, Carey Mulligan, dealt with the difficulties of finding maternity red carpet wear. This burgundy gown, with its pretty, arched neckline and smooth but loose-fitting cascade over her baby bump, adorned only by a stack of bangle bracelets, looked comfortable and stylish.

Winners:

Annaleigh Ashford took home the Tony for Best Actress in a Play wearing this lime green gown with a tightly-fitted bodice with a sweetheart neckline and a puffed skirt. Her minimal accessories and makeup and simple hairstyle of cascading curls turned what could have been an overdone look into an eye-catching and flattering win.

As always, Best Leading Actress in a Play winner Helen Mirren stunned in this long, clinging white gown with short train and lovely lace detailing at the deep V neckline and waist and in the draped sleeves. Smooth sleek hair and subtle makeup completed her elegant look. There truly is nothing like a Dame.

And finally, Best Actress in a Musical winner, Kelli O’Hara, looked beautiful in a tea-length gold lace dress paired with long waved hair, minimal makeup, and strappy sandals, which she used to “shuffle off to Buffalo” at the end of her acceptance speech. Utterly delightful all around.

So maybe there weren’t many stunners or stinkers on the red carpet at this year’s Tonys, but there were lots of smiles and plenty of talent. Extra bonus points to the producers for having all the casts who performed join Josh Groban and the orchestra on stage for the end of the In Memoriam segment. That was my favorite moment of the entire broadcast, and I hope it becomes a tradition for future Tonys!

New York Theatre Review: The King and I

My husband and I spent this past weekend in New York City, enjoying Broadway shows, fabulous cuisine, interesting shopping, ethnic festivals, and the wonderful fascination of the broad range of humanity that is NYC. Among our adventures were three completely different theatrical performances: the revival of The King and I (which is still in previews, officially opening on April 16) at the Vivian Beaumont Theater in Lincoln Center, the revival of On the Town at the Lyric Theater, and the new Radio City Spring Spectacular at (naturally) Radio City Music Hall. I’m no professional reviewer, although I am a theatre fan with plenty of experience being in the audience of both amateur and professional productions, as well as performance and backstage experience with amateur and semi-professional productions, so this is really not so much of a “review” as it is a “let me tell you about what I saw!” kind of thing. I’ll begin with The King and I, and over the next few days I’ll cover the other two shows.

One of the most exciting things about Broadway shows is that the theater itself often becomes a part of the performance. Broadway houses can be completely transformed to create the atmosphere of a show, drawing the audience into the world of the production even before the first note of the overture sounds. The King and I definitely took advantage of this. Being part of Lincoln Center, it is no surprise that the Vivian Beaumont Theater has a huge, tall stage, with an unusually deep orchestra pit in front of the main stage, which is often built out to form a thrust (sometimes retractable) covering the orchestra pit.

The stage of the Beaumont, showing the thrust built out over the orchestra pit. Note also the bamboo detailing around the proscenium arch, which is echoed in the set pieces upstage. This set was used in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific. 

The retractable thrust pulled back to reveal the orchestra during the curtain call of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s South Pacific.

The theater design and stage setup for The King and I was quite similar in some ways to the design and setup for South Pacific. The proscenium arch was decorated with tall gilt statues of Buddha and elaborate gilt detailing, and the stage was retracted as the audience entered, revealing the full orchestra pit and braces detailed with gilt matching the proscenium arch. The main part of the stage was hidden behind a tall, dark red and gilt curtain. The curtain was not particularly striking until the overture began and the lighting colors began to change – soft purple, dramatic scarlet, cool blue. The large areas of gold on the curtain reflected the color of the lighting, seeming to change the color of the entire curtain and creating an effect similar to a cyclorama, or “cyc,” which is a white curtain at the far back (or “upstage”) wall that is lit with different colors to create a changing backdrop.

In my opinion, the overture to The King and I is one of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s best. It opens with a huge, crashing, Oriental chord featuring a gong and a gorgeous open fifth in the brasses, which is immediately followed by a shimmering passage with the strings chasing each other up and down the scale. It is immediately clear that we are not in the familiar Western world, but rather in the exotic and mysterious far East. The pattern is repeated several times, separated by dramatic pauses, then transitions into the beautiful sweeping melody of “Something Wonderful,” followed by bits of many other familiar tunes from the well-known score, including, “I Whistle a Happy Tune,” “I Have Dreamed,” “Hello, Young Lovers,” and then back to bookend the overture with a final variation on “Something Wonderful,” concluding with another booming gong and a grand chord. It would take a cold, cold heart to listen to that overture without getting a chillbump or two. It was especially exciting to be able to watch the fully-lit orchestra (particularly the percussionist, who was practically choreographed as he leapt between a drum set, timpani, and various other percussion “toys”), and the orchestra took a much-deserved bow at the end of the overture.

As if that weren’t an amazing enough opening, the curtain was then drawn across the stage to reveal a large boat upstage, with its prow facing toward the audience and low mists rising off the “water” behind it. But wait, there’s more: as Anna and Louis make their appearances on the bow, peering toward “Bangkok,” the whole ship moves forward on the stage, sailing through the mist towards the audience. That’s not enough stage magic for you? All right then, as the boat approaches the front of the stage, the entire center section of the stage begins to sail forward into the audience right along with it, covering the orchestra pit and causing a delighted gasp from the entire audience.

The scale of the sets throughout the performance was impressive: when the King entertains his English guests in the large dining hall, a number of huge crystal chandeliers fill the upper part of the stage; during the show-within-the-show of “The Small House of Uncle Thomas,” Buddha appears atop a high pillar of stairs leading to the sky; the King’s quarters are adorned with a huge Buddha statue. 

I read an interview with the costume designer in which she commented that when they were testing her original costume design for Anna’s hoop skirts, which seemed huge in the design room, once they put them on stage, they were dwarfed by the size of the stage and the set, and she had to redesign them to be even larger. 

Speaking of costumes, the costuming of the entire show was breathtaking. Since we were seated high in the balcony, we had brought opera glasses, which allowed us a close-up look at many of the fine details. The King’s first costume was a white-and-gold suit which was stunning enough at a distance, but seen close up, revealed literally thousands of tiny pearls and gold beads encrusting it. Similarly, the headpieces used during “The Small House of Uncle Thomas” were intricately beaded and painted.

Every detail had been carefully designed to create a world unfamiliar to most audience members, to help us identify with Anna’s feelings of being overwhelmed with the opulence of her surroundings and her own sense of foreignness. The costumes helped to create each character long before we saw them interact with each other. Anna’s very formal, buttoned-up dresses and prim hats; Louis’ crisp schoolboy suit, glasses, and hat; the Kralahome’s bare chest and sweeping robe; the King’s gold-encrusted robes; the wives’ dresses, exactly identical save for the colors; the royal children’s gold headpieces and embroidered sashes.

But above and beyond the characters that were created simply by their looks, every single actor brought his or her character to life, developing relationships, creating personalities, revealing social roles. Kelli O’Hara’s Anna showed the vulnerability behind her brave façade by her nervous whistle, her genuine love for her students was evident in her romping and playing with them and in her delighted laughter at their antics, in her compassion for the lovers Tuptim and Lun Tha the audience understands her own love for her late husband, Tom, and her protectiveness of her son, Louis; Ken Watanabe’s King Mongkut showed a very distinct change in demeanor when interacting with Anna, the Kralahome, his children, or his wives, or when alone in his room, revealing both his public confidence as a King and his private doubts as a man, as well as his sense of conflict over western vs. eastern culture and values. The two characters together created a delicious culture and personality clash, beginning in polite frustration, mounting to actual anger, and eventually moving to a silent admission of mutual respect, admiration, and genuine affection as the King gives in to Anna’s demands for a house in exchange for her agreement that “head must not be higher than mine!” as Act I ends with the King – with a slight smirk on his face and a distinct twinkle in his eye – prostrates himself on the floor, forcing Anna to mimic his posture – right down to the smirk and the twinkle.

The charm of the two main characters was matched by many of the minor characters. The King’s eldest son, Prince Chulalongkhorn, is very like his father, right down to the personality clash he has with Anna’s son, Louis. One of my favorite moments for both boys was their rendition of “A Boy’s Puzzlement,” a reprise of the King’s earlier song, in which they admit their own confusion and puzzlement about their parents, and in which they temporarily sympathize with each other, perhaps even becoming friends, but which ends with an inevitable and hilariously teenage “fight” of pushing each other, a delightful reflection of their parents’ affectionate yet challenging relationship.

The King’s Head Wife, Lady Thiang, is a lovely foil to Anna’s relationship with the King. Lady Thiang, although an intelligent woman, is not educated in politics, but she understands and adores her husband, despite – and perhaps because of – his flaws, and she quietly supports him, masterfully guiding him without bruising his fragile ego, recognizing when he needs help from others, and getting him that help. Her gentle subservience contrasts with Anna’s intellectual frankness, as if the women are two sides of the same coin. The King needs both of them: the one to massage his ego and the other to challenge it.

Another foil to Anna is the character of the Kralahome: powerful, intelligent, and politically savvy, but more doubtful of – perhaps even threatened by – western culture than the King. He has little respect for Anna, as she is both a woman and a westerner, but eventually he comes to see that she wants the best for both the King and his beloved country of Siam, and he recognizes that she has a special influence with the King that even he does not. In the end, he is able to humble himself enough to ask for her help, for the sake of his country and his King.

The production is a visually lovely and emotionally moving picture of two cultures coming together, each recognizing that there is beauty and worth in the other, and even seeing that there are flaws in their own. The final scene wraps up the story sadly but beautifully. as the King, on his deathbed, passes the crown to Prince Chulalongkhorn, who announces that his people will no longer be required to prostrate themselves before him "like toads” (a criticism directly from the lips of Anna), but that they will show their respect with proud posture and a western-style bow or curtsy. The King nods in approval, and quietly slips into death with Lady Thiang holding one of his hands and Anna gently taking the other. He has seen - and become – the bridge between his old world and the new world, and he dies knowing that his kingdom will be well served by his son, led by both Anna and the King’s teachings. I, along with most of the audience, smiled through tears as the music swelled and the curtain fell.