Right around the corner was the posh boutique of Oscar de la Renta, a designer whose unique style has gotten many Hollywood celebrities hooked. Being the typical Pinoy however, I strictly took reverence to Louis Vuitton as the authoritative figure of fashion. The sight of his shop from a miniscule of thousands of other bourgeoisie installments in the area, including Kenneth Cole and Chanel was only a morsel of the entire New York collection. It was a different experience getting lost in a city where designers may open shop without heavy security, where the low cost of energy can easily translate to bright lights, big city, and behemoth billboards (such as the Dove ad along the Guadalupe Bridge) scattered about. After two hours of shopping which later became window-shopping due to NY’s out-of-this-world prices, it was time for me to march on to the big guns.
Not even the 15-or-so-hour trip could stop me from savoring my first taste of Broadway 2005 – not jetlag that is the ultimate hurdle for every traveler, especially when early birds degenerate into nocturnal folk and vice-versa. The time difference between a thousand miles and back may screw up one’s sleeping habits. And it may just lead to slight cases of sporadic "hyperness," and awkward "quiet spells." But it shouldn’t be a problem when there’s the incomparable will along with its "great white way."
Hours later, my good man Boom who works for the Philippine consulate drove me some umpteen blocks up to Broadway Avenue. Having suffered a two-day strike from New York’s transport union, traffic was as horrendous as rush hour along Edsa. With many a tourist coming to see Broadway in the Big Apple, performances were likewise getting sold-out out as though Old Navy had gone on post-holiday sale. In fact, prior to this night, the tickets to Avenue Q, Wicked, Spamalot and Rent were slipping far from my reach. But God has his ways, and with the divine intervention of our family friend Josie Natori, the tickets fell out of Pandora’s Box and into my willing hands.
I arrived in Broadway about an hour early, fearing that I was going to be late for my first New York musical in many years since Miss Saigon. Spamalot was first up for the trip, nested at 225 West 44th Street at the effervescent Shubert Theater. The show would begin at exactly 8 p.m. so I had enough time to visit Virgin Records and hoard all the Broadway-related material I could find. From Virgin’s extensive collection, I was able to acquire both a DVD and CD copy of Bombay Dreams, the Bollywood-inspired production of talented Mr. Webber, an Oklahoma DVD starring Hugh Jackman (X-Men, The Boy from Oz), a DVD of Candide, the musical operetta featuring Kristin Chenoweth (Wicked) and Sweeney Todd with Angela Lansberry (Murder She Wrote), and a CD of Jersey Boys. While shopping in the music monolith, a spectacle in itself, I had inadvertently lost track of time. Next thing I knew, I had but 10 minutes to get my fat ass to the theater.
Dashing along Broadway and into West 45th Street where Avenue Q, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, and Chita Rivera: The Dancer’s Life lay, I realized at the end of my exhausting run that I had traversed the wrong block. "How could you get it wrong?" I thought to myself in panic and paranoia. I was left with no choice but to go in and out of various theaters and establishments, approaching strangers to ask where laid Spamalot that was almost but not quite within my midst. "Corner 44th street, 44th street," I told myself over and over as I sped straight down, to the right and down again to Shubert. I got there just on time.
I made my way to the mezzanine level, to the farthest left of the theater where my musical experience would commence. For a ticket secured a day before the show, especially during peak season, my seat was pretty good despite a blurry birds-eye view. But as soon as the overture started to play, everything became perfectly clear. Not for the shopping, or the food, or the MTV Studios that attract a regular 5 p.m. crowd for TRL, this was Broadway, ladies and gentlemen! A time-old institution in the area, in its beautiful musicals lie the level of excellence that most theater actors aspire for. This was where Lea Salonga made her Tony-award winning mark in Miss Saigon. This is where Jose Llana, who starred alongside her in Flower Drum Song, continues to make his mark in The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. And, so, flabbergasted and amazed, I stayed glued to my seat and marveled to my disbelief.
As I mentioned in a previous column, Spamalot is a theatrical adaptation of the original 1975 film, Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Having opened early in 2005, its risky comedic approach garnered it the Tony Award for Best New Musical in the same year. The show’s original cast includes Tim Curry, David Hyde Pierce, and Hank Azaria. But the performance I saw featured new actors including Simon Russel Beale (The Philanthropist) to fill in for Curry as King Arthur and James Ludwig (Little Shop of Horrors) in place of Pierce as the quidnunc Sir Robin. Sarah Ramirez has also ended her tenure as the hilariously sexy Lady of the Lake and passed the torch to comic genius Lauren Kennedy (Sunset Boulevard). On the flipside however, fan-favorite Azaria is still bopping alongside the ever-growing cast, lending his ingenious voice-changing talents to ensue the roles of Sir Lancelot, The French Taunter, Knight of Ni, and Tim the Enchanter altogether.
Spamalot was abso-*#$#*$#-lutely terrific! I cannot even begin to describe how beautiful the experience was of watching the two-act spectacle. Its dance sequences were ingeniously done, and choreographed to follow through with the show’s purposely cheesy and comedic nature. The sets and the transition between them were crystal. And the comedy was engaging and definitely kept audience reciprocation high up. I have to admit, I’m not really a huge fan of British humor, but Spamalot kept me laughing to the edge of my seat. Even the songs kept me laughing, especially Knights of the Round Table and Find Your Grail which are but two of Spamalot’s riotous array of songs. The use of animation was a great add-on to the show’s whimsical world. Flavored with medieval folklore that has been utilized with such panache to add to the show’s hilarious take on King Arthur, how can you go wrong with this two hour and 45 minute razzle-dazzle?
After the show, I left Shubert with profound disbelief. I just watched Spamalot! I finally witnessed a tangible manifestation of something I had been dreaming of since hearing about it from a bunch of friends. The experience was surreal, especially since after the show, I was able to get my playbill signed and my picture taken with some of Spamalot’s celebrated actors. Still ecstatic, I went home pinching myself to check if this had all been a dream – that past midnight, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. Maybe it was jetlag. Or maybe, it was my disbelief. But it sure was good to be accompanied by a city that never sleeps.