Skip to main content

I Cain't Say No

The highlight--maybe the one and only highlight--of last night's dull Tony Awards presentation was "I Cain't Say No."

Three thoughts from the Sondheim Bible:

(1) God is in the details. "Fer a while I ack refined and cool, a settin on the velveteen settee. Nen I think of thet ol' golden rule, and do for him what he would do fer me!" You sense Annie's wit and subversiveness: She is doing something with the "Golden Rule" that certainly doesn't match the intention behind her teacher's speech at Sunday school.

(2) Let form match content. The lines I'm obsessed with: "Whatcha gonna do when a feller gets flirty an' starts to talk purty? Whatcha gonna do? S'pposin' that he says that your lips are like cherries, or roses, or berries. Whatcha gonna do? S'possin' that he says that yer sweeter than cream and he's gotta have cream or die? Whatcha gonna do when he talks that way? Spit in his eye?"

Notice how uneven the two imagined actions are. Annie gets carried away with the romantic scenario. The erotic events go on and on and on. But when she tries to imagine a firm stance of opposition, she can produce only one line: "Spit in his eye." We know which choices Annie will make in her future.

(3) Less is more. Of course Annie doesn't really spell out what she means by failing to say "no." "Soon as I sit on their laps, something inside of me snaps." We're left to make some inferences.

Delightful.

How nice it is to see two great Hammerstein roles--Carrie and Annie--honored in back-to-back years. And how much juicier are these roles than the apparent "leads"!
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more