"Sondheim Bad B***ches: Definitive Ranking"

The actor Larry Owens has posted "Sondheim Bad Bitches: Definitive Ranking," and it's earning the attention it deserves.

https://twitter.com/larryowenslive/status/1283759355507150851

What's funny is that this deranged man is seeing these characters in the most absurdly "glowing" light: It's not at all clear that Mrs. Lovett is a "hopeless romantic," or that Madame Armfeldt is a "great mom." I'm also not certain that Gussie, in "Merrily," will "do what it takes to get a young upstart composing duo their due...."

In any case, I'm happy to watch this clip, because it sends me back to my college years, and to all those important cast albums: Angela Lansbury in the "Sweeney" cover art, the stars and moon around the words "Night Music," the Wolf in the logo for "Into the Woods."

Also, I would add Dot to the Bad Bitch list. Dot--barely able to read--finds herself enmeshed with an asshole artist in France. She is going to have this guy's baby, and she can't get his attention. Maybe weaker people would flounder here. But Dot meets a nice, enterprising baker, books passage to America, and creates a dynasty, a group of people who will later have a major impact on the Chicago Institute of Art. She also teaches herself to read. She chose, and her world was shaken. So what? The choice may have been mistaken. The choosing was not.

That's just my own two cents. Your nominees for the list? It seems like Donna Murphy could have a role here.....

Comments

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...

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...

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...

Liars and Saints

Search This Blog