The Weekend Mix

Darlings, escape the St. Patrick's Day crowds this weekend with our playlist of absolutely random fabulosity. There will be sequins and safety gays and shopping trips with Joan Crawford. Enjoy!

We don't think there are words adequate in the entire English language to describe how surreal this 1969 promotional video is. It seems to have been scripted while the writers were drinking LSD-spiked Pepsi-Cola. Joan, for her part, actually seems fairly sober (it was hit-or-miss with Miss C. during this period), which means that she gives her line readings all of the intense authority she did with Mildred Pierce (1945) and Strait-Jacket (1964). And brother, are there some howlers (and head-scratchers):

"Like the grass...like the trees...like Frankenstein's monster!"

"It's like a hot dog, only Spanish!"

"Just eat your weirdo!"

"God, where does the grass come from? God, veal cutlets? God, rhubarb? Oh, no...not rhubarb."

"The supermarket is a remarkable place, if you stop to think about it."

In this clip, Miss Panda Eyes herself, Dusty Springfield, gives a fabulous, swinging performance of "Bring Him Back," aided by two enthusiastic safety gays bearing striking resemblances to Udo Kier and Noel Harrison, and who can't stay in synchronized rhythm to save their nellie necks, bless their hearts. The song is a cover version of an obscure American R&B tune by one "Sissie Houston"...yes, Cissy Houston under a strange nom-de-45. And, giving credit where credit is due, La Springfield leaves the great Ms. Houston's version in the dust.

Depending on how much we've had to drink, we find this clip of Rose Marie singing "Little Girl Blue" either wonderfully camp, or heartbreakingly touching. Perhaps it's both. Basically singing it in character as the perennially man-hungry Sally from The Dick Van Dyke Show, which was one of the top sitcoms when she taped this episode of The Dean Martin Show, Ro and her ever-present bows look and sound great. 

OK, this may be from a Duke Ellington tribute, but it's certainly not jazz. It is, however, an absolute brilliant transformation of a jazz standard into a highly theatrical, one woman, one act play. We can't think of anyone besides the eccentric Tammy Grimes who could pull that bizarre feat off, nor would we care to listen to any other attempts. This, darlings, is our all time favorite interpretation of one of our favorite songs.

Watching this legendary clip from The Ed Sullivan Show, it's clear that Miss Ross had far outgrown the confines of a group. She is completely committed to this lengthy, challenging medley from Funny Girl, and when she sings "I'm the Greatest Star," she doesn't sound as if she's trying to chase Streisand -- she really believes it, and we certainly aren't going to argue. Love or loathe her, it's impossible to imagine any of her contemporaries of the era even attempting something like this, let alone making it work. Watch for the big finish, as Ross throws her arms up in the air, and effectively blocks the faces of Mary and Cindy.

Finally, we have what can only be described as the ultimate cluster***k of stars -- the 1974 premiere of That's Entertainment!, hosted by Liza Minnelli and Sammy Davis, Jr., and featuring "more stars than there are in the heavens." Enjoy, and have a fabulous weekend, darlings!!!

She's a Gas

Vodka Vixens

Julie Newmar

Monique Van Vooren (with Woody Allen)

Zsa Zsa Gabor

Tammy Grimes

Julie London

The Unsinkable Tammy Grimes

Tammy Grimes is nothing if not a fascinating mass of contradictions: with her affected, pseudo-British rasp and highly theatrical looks, she has always seemed the epitome of camp; yet her total belief in the persona that she has created for herself lends gravitas and weight to everything that she does. She's elegant, bawdy, ethereal, gutsy, imperious, earthy, vampy, sophisticated, brash and vulnerable in equal, wonderful measures.

In her new show at The Metropolitan Room, "Miss Tammy Grimes: Favorite Songs and Stories," the emphasis, albeit not necessarily intentionally, is on the vulnerable side of Miss Grimes' outsized personality. At 76, Grimes' famously throaty voice is no longer the flexible instrument it once was; and the still-imposing diva, in spite of her patrician profile, upswept blonde locks, and diaphanous Chanel gown, displays an oddly endearing case of stage jitters, nervously fingering her pearls one second, shaking madly the next.

It could have been a train wreck: dropped lyrics; "stories" which were literally read from a script - and which a somewhat-addled Grimes sometimes put before or after the wrong accompanying song; and those aforementioned stage jitters preventing Grimes from making eye contact with the audience from The Metropolitan's almost painfully intimate stage.

And yet, as a whole, the evening worked - sometimes beautifully. After a shaky opening of "Rose of Washington Square" (which was featured on her eponymous debut album in 1962), Grimes kicked things into high gear with an expert "Ring Them Bells," on which her comic timing truly shone, and made you forget all about Liza Minnelli. A surprise offering was Tom Waits' "Martha," which Grimes turned into a spellbinding tour de force of regret, longing and quiet desperation. It was easily the best performance of the evening.

Other highlights included a poignant reading of "How Deep is the Ocean," dedicated to her late husband, composer Richard Bell, who passed away in 2005; the very funny parable "The Snake"; Cole Porter's hilarious "Tale of the Oyster," perfectly suited to Grimes' madcap personality; "More Than One Man in My Life," from Grimes' Obie-winning performance in the off-Broadway Mademoiselle Colombe; and heart-wrenching interpretations of Noel Coward's "Someday I'll Find You," "I'll See You Again" and "If Love Were All." Of course, the number which elicited the greatest applause was "Home Sweet Heaven," Grimes' show stopper from High Spirits - the musical version of Coward's Blithe Spirit, which he directed.

But the song which pointed up both the tragedy and triumph of this uneven, yet moving and ultimately wonderful evening, was Kurt Weill's "Pirate Jenny" from The Threepenny Opera. During this complex, lengthy, demanding song, Grimes repeatedly either went up in her lyrics or blanked out completely, becoming visibly upset and disoriented, murmuring her apologies to the audience; and, still, she soldiered through the entire song, and when she got it right, the effect was hair-raising, thrilling, brilliant. It was the cabaret equivalent of watching an aging prima ballerina called upon to execute an impossibly tricky Pièce de résistance, barely making her landings, but somehow still conveying all of her grace and dignity and artistry.

By the time Grimes finished roaring through a purposefully defiant "I Ain't Down Yet" (from her Tony-winning turn in The Unsinkable Molly Brown), it was clear that this indomitable survivor wasn't going to let a few muffed lyrics or a case of stage fright keep her from performing. Tammy Grimes is one of the last of the true show-must-go-on troupers from the golden age of Broadway and cabaret - and when she and her few still-standing peers are gone, there will be no one to take their place. Frankly, we'd rather see a few flashes of true brilliance from a legend than a thoroughly competent, completely ineffectual night of warbling by an American Idol-honed novice. As Miss Grimes herself sang in another number from High Spirits: "Tomorrow I may disappear." So if you think fondly of her, you'd better love her while you may, warts and all.

Miss Tammy Grimes performs at The Metropolitan Room through Wednesday evening.

Belated Birthday Roundup

We somehow missed the birthdays of these very special SSUWAT favorites -- blame it on our work schedule, blame it on encroaching senility, blame it on the bossa nova; but rest assured that we love them all!

Audrey Meadows
February 8, 1922 - February 3, 1996

Fabian Forte
February 6, 1943

Mamie Van Doren

February 6, 1931

Dorothy Malone

January 30, 1925

Tammy Grimes

January 30, 1934

(Thanks to normadesmond at MITTEN DRINNEN for reminding us!)

Icon

Thank you, ALFREDO!

A Flawed Equation

plus

plus

...should equal fizz, froth, and hilarity. And, in small doses, the current revival of Blithe Spirit offers just that -- all too fitfully. Noel Coward's Design for Living-meets-Topper 1941 comedy shows its age around the edges, and while the cast is up to the challenge of making it fresh and funny, Michael Blakemore's direction is curiously stodgy and plodding, the staging claustrophobic and uninspired.

Angela Lansbury, of course, is one of the Great Ladies of the Theatah, and her reviews have been nothing short of glorious. It's true that her role as the dotty Madame Arcati is written as a scene-stealing, showy star turn, but Lansbury more than earns the adulation. She imbues the addled (yet 100% sincere) occultist with a charming, tattered dignity and warmth; and, at 83, she's still able to contort her remarkably lithe and lean body into comic dancer's poses which recall burlesque Egyptian hieroglyphics.

Of course, one expects nothing less than perfection from Miss Lansbury; the real surprise was Rupert Everett's well-nuanced performance, delivered with his trademark panache, but with much more subtlety than his recent film appearances would suggest. It was also a performance filled with a remarkable amount of give-and-take with his fellow players, and no sign of the undisciplined mugging or winking irony Mr. Everett has sometimes been guilty of.

As his ghostly wife, Christine Ebersole is, sadly, the weakest link among the cast members (the delightfully dry Jayne Atkinson is marvelous as the solidly upper-class second wife). We want to love Ms. Ebersole, we really do; she's a glamorous, madcap blonde with an oversized diva personality, a lovely singing voice, and a camp sensibility aimed directly at the hearts and wallets of Confirmed Bachelors With Interests in Musical Theater. But she is one beloved performer who consistently leaves us cold; and while she's certainly not awful in Blithe Spirit, she never really convinces us that she's a sprightly spirit. Ms. Ebersole is decidedly earthbound, for lack of a better phrase, and her accent too often wobbles from the British drawing room to a Bronx barroom. Despite her brittle, 1930's-esque demeanor, Ebersole never quite captures the gleefully pixie-ish/devil-ish charm of Elvira the way Kay Hammond did in the film, or the way we imagine Tammy Grimes did in the 1964 musical version, High Spirits. Our biggest problem with Christine Ebersole is that she seems to think that she's Constance Bennett, but she really is more Joan Blondell.

A trio of Elvira's: Kay Hammond (top), Tammy Grimes (center), Christine Ebersole (bottom)

All in all, it was entertaining enough, but ultimately unsatisfying. Still, it was worth it all just to see Angela Lansbury doing her stuff, live, on stage. It's one of our great regrets that we didn't have the chance to see her perform in any of her great musical roles: Mame, Sweeney Todd, Gypsy. When she's on stage in Blithe Spirit, it suddenly feels lighter, brighter, gayer. If only she could be in every scene.

Music Makes Me Lose Control

It's Miss Valerie Perrine's birthday today (September 3, 1943), so you all know what that means, right? Yes, friends, today is the day we break out our widescreen, Dolby Stereo Sound DVD edition of Can't Stop the Music (1980).



If you have not yet seen this truly cataclysmic cinematic event, please proceed to your nearest rental emporium this moment. (Or send someone else for you, if you, understandably, feel ashamed bringing Can't Stop the Music up to the counter yourself.) It's probably a good idea to watch the film under the influence of white wine, cocaine, poppers and 'ludes, since that's what most of the cast seems to be performing under.

Besides the pneumatic Miss Perrine, the cast-of-thousands includes:

Bruce Jenner



Tammy Grimes



Baby June Havoc



...and Special Guest Star, Leigh Taylor-Young



It was directed by Nancy Walker, and its main conceit was that not only could subpar disco music sustain a 2-hour long musical extravaganza, but that Village People were heterosexual.



All in all, it's a sublimely surreal way to spend 2 hours with friends, stoned out of your minds. Don't forget the fondue set, and, oh, Happy Birthday, Valerie Perrine! We know you won a Cannes Film Festival award for your heartwrenching performance in Lenny (1974), but come on, now...wasn't it more fun appearing in a disco musical with Steve Guttenberg?

Tammy Tell Me True

We're often confronted with this dilemma: whose voice would we most like to imitate, Tammy Grimes' or Little Edie's?






Tammy usually wins out. After all, she got Christopher Plummer.

Cheers!

TAMMY GRIMES & JEREMY SLATE ON THEIR WEDDING DAY, 1966