Then, coincidentally, I heard of a play After the Garden, based on a performance Little Edie (now dead) gave in NYC in 1978, a cabaret bit, a little song, a little dance, a lot of Edie. This play was written by Gerald Duval, a guy who actually knew Edie back then, and who was intimately involved in this short-lived nightclub engagement. I had to see it, to compare it to the film, to get another side of the subject matter. So see it I did.

Last week, CC2K reviewed a very serious production of one of Shakespeare's lighter plays. This week, in an eerily perfect dichotomy, we take a look at a very light-hearted production of one of Shakespeare's darkest plays.

If you ever find yourself in the audience while a comedian who specializes in impressions takes the mike, I can pretty much guarantee how that set will go. He'll (let's be honest; they're almost always men, for some reason) whip out his best voices along with some broad physical approximations of that celebrity's persona (Jack Nicholson's smile, Robert DeNiro's tics, etc.), do the required Christopher Walken impression that all such performers do, and for the big finish, he'll recast a famous movie with current stars (it's Al Pacino as the Tin Man! Robin Williams as the Scarecrow! Tom Cruise as Dorothy! And so on...) It's almost always an entertaining and inoffensive routine, yet it would be unthinkable to imagine a full evening of such entertainment. The novelty would certainly wear off, leaving you spending ninety minutes with a guy who talks like other guys.

Mandy Patinkin's pissed-off Prospero anchors a stellar production by New York's Classic Stage Company.

When I first started watching theater seriously, I would go into productions of plays I knew with an image of what I thought the play should look like in my head, and a production succeeded or failed in my estimation based on how closely it matched that idealized vision. There are many insults to hurl at such a perspective. I'll content myself merely to call it stupid. As my tastes have matured, I've come to like plays or films based on how many specific choices they make. Making specific choices becomes even more important with material like a Shakespeare play, any of which challenges directors and actors to actually say something. So the moral of the story is that, pretty much, if a production makes specific choices – even if I disagree with them, even if they're sometimes lousy ones – I'll probably enjoy the show.

The Classic Stage Company's production of The Tempest is packed with specific choices, most of which I enjoyed.

When I heard I was going to London for work the very first thing I thought of was getting tickets to see Billy Elliot. I LOVED the movie and had heard nothing but great things about the stage show.

I went into the show with a little trepidation. I don't really like Elton John and a composer for the theater. I saw AIDA and didn't think it lived up to the hype, and Lestat...well Lestat wasn't coined LeCrap for nothing. I think Mr. John should stay to pop music. His scores for the theater seem too pop centric and with the American Idolization of Broadway I fear the American Musical Theater is taking a turn for worse. I think people should sound more like Barbara Cook and less like Britney Spears.