Kelli Barrett takes on "Cabaret"-era Liza in FX's limited series "Fosse/Verdon."
The Broadway legend is a character in the new FX series "Fosse/Verdon."
"I'm the kind of girl who's tried everything once," Valerine Perrine purrs in Lenny. As Mrs. Bruce in the Bob Fosse film, her claim, let's say, contained slightly off-color elements.
Recently, a severe heat advisory was upon us in New York City, however for the unsuspecting patrons of a serene Chelsea café which normally tends to the urban chic, there was no warning that performance artist Kenyon Phillips was about to arrive.
Christopher Isherwood (1904-86) was an Anglo-American writer whose novels, memoirs, plays, and diaries span the 20th century, from his modernist beginnings in the late 1920s to his pathbreaking memoirs of the 1970s.
As much as I love Meryl, I'm never going to buy her records, and I haven't been this uncomfortable watching her in a film since, what do you know, Mama Mia! If we're living in any sort of movie musical cinema revival, it's time to start asking ourselves what we sacrificed to get there.
Different plays, different moods, different methods but common themes that make for extraordinary nights of live theatre.
Being raised in the entertainment business -- her parents were showbiz legends Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, after all -- may have helped Arnaz hone her career path, but at 63, she is definitely her own woman -- creativity and all.
When Tom Sergeant (Bill Nighy) drops in on Kyra Hollis (Carey Mulligan) totally unannounced in the revival of David Hare's 1995 play Skylight, at Wyndham's, he's clearly there to fan the embers of a six-year affair that ended two years earlier.
Fossey-Fosse's unique childhood, spent with both the gorillas of Rwanda and the dancers of Broadway, paved the way for his pioneering work in mating dance science. In his Dance Lab, he tests the effectiveness of specific dance moves from the animal kingdom on arousal levels in human females.
Chris Mason Johnson's sultry and perfectly human Test enjoyed its European premiere recently at this year's Berlinale. The film is a survivor's tale, told through the POV of a gay character, but so multidimensional that be it man, woman, straight or gay, everyone can relate to its themes.
When Little Me opened in November 1962, its major pluses were Sid Caesar, the Carolyn Leigh-Cy Coleman score and the rarely-miss Neil Simon gags. Revived at City Center this weekend, it can crow about what could be called a breakout performance by Christian Borle.
Like many young men who were starting to embrace their homosexuality, I derived intense pleasure from one of the pictures near the back of the book in which an aging Belle Poitrine (Jeri Archer) looks up at the packed crotch of some faceless stud clad in a Speedo.