And the Winner Is...

I would have loved to have experienced Broadway in the 40s and 50s.  When you actually dressed to go to the theater.  When real stars and actors flocked to appear on the Great White Way time and time and again.  When there were no tourists bringing bags of potato chips into the Belasco Theater.

I can dream a little, can't I?  Well, on Tuesday, my dream became a bit of a reality for about two and a half hours.  I was seemingly transported back to the golden age of Broadway.  Even though I wasn't dressed in a suit.  And, luckily, there were no slobs around me munching on cans of Pringles.

Such were the magical powers of this latest revival.  Gore Vidal's "The Best Man."  Written over fifty years ago, yet it still looks shiny new in this latest reincarnation at the Schoenfeld Theater, which used to be the Golden Theater.  While the Broadway theater names may change, this play manages to live on gloriously.

Look at the poster above and marvel at the assemblage of talent on one stage.  How does this happen on Broadway in 2012?  Well, it's a limited engagement so the stars involved are happy to commit to such an endeavor for a short amount of time.  And those of us in the audience were truly the lucky ones.  This may just have been my most rewarding night seeing a non-musical production on Broadway.  It was that wondrous.

Back in 1964, Hollywood took this play and turned it into a film, which previously was my only exposure to the tale.  And I have loved the movie whenever I have caught up to it on Turner Classic Movies.  But, the play itself is infinitely better.  Funnier.  More intimate.  And more likely to pack a solid punch when you least expect it.

So, if you haven't seen the film on TCM, "The Best Man" tells us all about a national political convention where two candidates are deadlocked for the nomination to run for President.  You don't know the political party, but that's not needed.  Whatever side of the aisle it is, the dirty dealings are the same.  Indeed, such treachery is truly universal.

Set in 1960, playwright Gore Vidal might have been basing this all on that year's Democratic convention, which ultimately sent John F. Kennedy to the White House.  But, as I surveyed the two candidates in this play, I couldn't help but compare it all to the battle between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama for the 2008 Presidential nomination.  One candidate feels it's their divine right to get the nod.  The other candidate is a complete product of a marketing department.  Flash and glitz and little else.  With even more timely references throughout the play about taxing the rich and class warfare, you would think this drama was written last week.

The theater was completely decked out as if it was a political convention hall.  Black-and-white TV monitors were placed throughout and you had to watch them from time to time to catch up on the back story.  A Walter Cronkite-like commentator sat in one of the Abe Lincoln death booths to add some color.  Ushers wore red, white, and blue straw hats.  I felt like a real delegate.  I noticed that my seat in the theater was amidst the group from Nevada.

But, as flashy as the surroundings were, the really remarkable stuff was happening on the stage.  John Larroquette as the tried-and-true veteran politician.  Eric McCormack as the sleazy, young upstart.  They each have secret files on each other.  Will they use them?  Will decorum prevail?  How far will a politician go to be elected?  Questions that were debated throughout the evening and, just like in real life, there were no black and white answers.  Only shades of amazing grays.

Candice Bergen was a triumph as the veteran's wife.  Just like a certain politician's wife, she, too, was tired of his extramarital activities in a small and secluded apartment on K Street.  Will she ultimately stand by her man?  Bergen was wonderfully understated in her role, although, when pressed to fire off a zinger, she summoned up some of that old Murphy Brown oomph.

Meanwhile, in another suite of the hotel, Kerry Butler as McCormack's wife takes annoying hayseed stupidity to a new low level.  As nasty as her husband is, she is incredibly vapid.  But, at the same time, she's dying to be the First Lady of the land and will do anything to get into that Lincoln bedroom.  This just goes to prove that any jerk and his slovenly family can get into the White House with the right campaign.  Can you spell C-A-R-T-E-R?

And what can you say about a Broadway play that brings you the legendary Angela Lansbury in two scenes?  She's got a relatively small role and doesn't even appear in the third act as one of those long term political lobbyists for the women's vote.  But she steals your attention when she's there and adds even more electricity to the night which could have easily been mistaken for the generator at Indian Point.

Oh, wait, there's even more.  What can you say about a Broadway play that brings you the luminous James Earl Jones for any amount of time on stage at all?  Believe me, this is not just the voice of CNN and Darth Vader.  Jones is riveting as a former President whose endorsement is craved by both Larroquette and McCormack.  He knows he wields some power here, perhaps for the last time in his life.  Jones' performance is almost breathtaking.  And, you will note that the back story would have him being President in perhaps the late 40s or early 50s.  The fact that he is Black is never ever addressed.  A wonderful touch of casting and then some.

These days, all Broadway shows end with a standing ovation.  The novelty of such a reception is now mundane and expected.  But, when the audience stood and cheered at the end of "The Best Man," I sensed that it truly meant something.  Just as it did on those rare occasions in days gone by.  For once, the rapid rise to our feet was completely warranted. 

Thinking about what we saw on that stage, this cast and play truly gave us all something to acknowledge with all our theater-going hearts.

Dinner last night:  Back in LA for some chicken salad.