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Observer
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Observer
‘Beetlejuice' Is Coming Back to Broadway
'Beetlejuice' isn't dead quite yet. The national tour production of the fan-favorite musical comedy, which has had two previous Broadway runs in 2019-20 and 2022-23, will head to the New York stage this fall, producers announced Tuesday. The show, which is adapted from Tim Burton's 1988 film and tells the story of a Goth girl and a pushy poltergeist, is set to play the Palace Theater for 13 weeks, beginning Oct. 8 and running through Jan. 3, 2026. Casting will be announced at a later date. In his review of the original Broadway production, which starred Alex Brightman as the titular ghoul in a striped suit, The New York Times' Ben Brantley praised Brightman's performance and the 'jaw-droppingly well-appointed gothic funhouse set' by set designer David Korins ('Hamilton'), though he lamented that the show 'so overstuffs itself with gags, one-liners and visual diversions that you shut down from sensory overload.' No matter: The musical became a fan favorite, with people dressing in costume, lip-syncing to the cast recording on TikTok and showering the show's cast with fan art. With a book by Scott Brown and Anthony King, music and lyrics by Eddie Perfect, and direction by Alex Timbers (who won a Tony Award for directing 'Moulin Rouge!'), the stage production was nominated for eight Tony Awards, but won none. 'Beetlejuice' is having a bit of a cultural moment: A popular sequel film, 'Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,' also directed by Burton, was released last year, more than three decades after the original, which starred Michael Keaton (Beetlejuice), Alec Baldwin (Adam Maitland), Catherine O'Hara (Delia Deetz) and a young Winona Ryder (Lydia Deetz). The national tour production, which began performances in 2022, has played 88 cities over the past 2 1/2 years. The musical has also had productions in Tokyo; Seoul, South Korea; and Melbourne, Australia; and is heading soon to Sydney. —NYT
New York Times
03-06-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Beetlejuice' Is Coming Back to Broadway
'Beetlejuice' isn't dead quite yet. The national tour production of the fan-favorite musical comedy, which has had two previous Broadway runs in 2019-20 and 2022-23, will head to the New York stage this fall, producers announced Tuesday. The show, which is adapted from Tim Burton's 1988 film and tells the story of a goth girl and a pushy poltergeist, is set to play the Palace Theater for 13 weeks, beginning Oct. 8 and running through Jan. 3, 2026. Casting will be announced at a later date. In his review of the original Broadway production, which starred Alex Brightman as the title ghoul in a striped suit, The New York Times's Ben Brantley praised Brightman's performance and the 'jaw-droppingly well-appointed gothic funhouse set' by the set designer David Korins ('Hamilton'), though he lamented that the show 'so overstuffs itself with gags, one-liners and visual diversions that you shut down from sensory overload.' No matter: The musical became a fan favorite, with people dressing in costume, lip-syncing to the cast recording on TikTok and showering the show's cast with fan art. With a book by Scott Brown and Anthony King, music and lyrics by Eddie Perfect, and direction by Alex Timbers (who won a Tony Award for directing 'Moulin Rouge!'), the stage production was nominated for eight Tony Awards, but won none. 'Beetlejuice' is having a bit of a cultural moment: A popular sequel film, 'Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,' also directed by Burton, was released last year, more than three decades after the original, which starred Michael Keaton (Beetlejuice), Alec Baldwin (Adam Maitland), Catherine O'Hara (Delia Deetz) and a young Winona Ryder (Lydia Deetz). The national tour production, which began performances in 2022, has played 88 cities over the last two and a half years. The musical has also had productions in Tokyo; Seoul; and Melbourne, Australia; and is heading soon to Sydney.
Yahoo
22-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
7 secrets behind the world's most celebrated hula
HONOLULU (KHON2) — The Merrie Monarch Festival began yesterday, April 20, in Hilo. For those lucky enough to attend festival, it's more than a hula competition. It's a powerful lesson in standing firm in who you are, where you come from and what you carry forward. 'The preparation is intense,' said Kumu Brad Lum. 'It's daily. A whole week of practice for just seven minutes on stage.' But even more than the dancing, Merrie Monarch teaches a deeper kind of strength — one that's about being rooted, respectful and real. And getting there? That's a lesson, too. For Joylynn and Kumu Lum, even getting tickets to Merrie Monarch is a process that takes planning, patience and a little luck. 'Applications have to be in by Dec. 1,' said Joylynn. 'We sat together, filled out our applications, got our money orders, and mailed them at the post office to give us the best chance of sitting together.' But it didn't go exactly as planned. 'Kumu accidentally sent the receipt for the money order instead of the actual money order,' Joylynn said. 'We were very stressed.' Kumu Lum called the office. 'They were super ʻoloʻolu. They understood and let us resend the money. But everything is by mail. Nothing is digital. They keep it traditional.' And that's the point. Merrie Monarch values what's real, not what's fast. Everything is done by hand just like the hula. Merrie Monarch started in 1964 as a way to boost Hilo's local economy. It was named for King David Kalākaua, known as the 'Merrie Monarch', who loved hula and helped bring it back during a time when it was by 1971, the festival had become something deeper. With the help of 'Aunty' Dottie Thompson and cultural leaders like George Naʻope, the festival became a true celebration of Hawaiian culture. Today, Merrie Monarch is a week-long event filled with dance, art, chanting, storytelling and celebration. It's one of the most respected hula festivals in the world. 'You don't even need a ticket to experience it,' Joylynn said. 'At ʻImiloa, there's lei-making, weaving, learning how to do hula. There's stuff at the Palace Theater, too. There are craft shows all over Hilo. You just have to show up.' The idea of 'dominance' usually means control or force. But for Kumu Lum and Joylynn, real strength is presence. 'I don't like talking about competition,' Kumu Lum said. 'It's a colonized way of thinking. Why should we have competition? King Kalākaua's hula wasn't about that; it was about love and giving.' Joylynn agreed. 'When I competed, I was so stressed. Everyone said, 'Don't think of it as competition. Think of it as perpetuation.' That helped me. I was showing my aloha. I was honoring what my kumu gave me.' For both of them, competition doesn't come from being better than others. It comes from knowing who you are and acting with integrity. 'Hula students should have one word: humility,' said Kumu Lum. 'That's the most important value.' Preparing for Merrie Monarch isn't something one person can do alone. 'It takes many people in the background to get you to Hilo,' said Kumu Lum. 'It costs thousands of dollars. There are lei, costumes, food, housing. I tell everyone: if a hālau is fundraising, support them.' Joylynn added, 'Even if we're not a competition-based hālau, we go to Merrie Monarch every year to learn and observe. It's filled with our hula.' Support means more than money. It means time, effort and commitment. 'Sometimes, students make mistakes,' said Kumu Lum. 'I've seen many cry. You practice every day, almost seven days a week, and then you only have one chance.' Standing strong isn't just for dancers. It's for everyone: men, women, young, old. 'During my days, I was hot oil,' said Kumu Lum. 'I thought I knew everything. But that's not part of hula. That's not the way. If you're humble and filled with joy, that's what matters.' To lead is to serve. To assert presence is to uplift others. That's what hula teaches, according to Kumu Lum. 'This is for our culture,' he said. 'If Merrie Monarch is to thrive, we have to support it. We have to support our hālau. These are the keepers of our culture.' You can click to learn more about the Merrie Monarch Festival Every year, Merrie Monarch opens on Easter Sunday. The ceremonies begin with chant and protocol. Deities are honored. Traditions are kept. 'If you haven't seen the opening, go see it,' said Kumu Lum. 'It's amazing.' In 2025, the festival celebrates its 61st year. And while it began as a way to bring visitors to the Big Island, today its purpose is clear: to keep Native Hawaiian culture alive. Get news on the go with KHON 2GO, KHON's morning podcast, every morning at 8 'The choreography takes months,' said Kumu Lum. 'The kumu chooses who's in the front line, second line, third, fourth. It's a whole process. But what it really is — what it really teaches — is how to stand for something.' And maybe that's the biggest lesson of all. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
CBS News
11-04-2025
- Entertainment
- CBS News
Westmoreland Cultural Trust removes bricks from in front of Palace Theater, lets patrons know ahead of time
In the wake of all the drama surrounding the Pirates, PNC Park, and the "Bucco Bricks" , the Westmoreland Cultural Trust has a message for its patrons. "Your bricks are safe." The trust removed commemorative bricks during a recent renovation in front of the Palace Theater. A line of bricks in front of the theater was all personalized. Some were memorials to those who enjoyed going to the theater, but recently they were removed. Unlike the bricks at PNC Park, of which many ended up in a dumpster , the bricks that were removed in front of the Palace Theater are being repurposed for something even more significant. The Westmoreland Cultural Trust put those commemorative bricks in several years ago, but eventually made the decision to remove them after patrons kept tripping on them. It's a sensitive issue after the reports of what happened at PNC Park, especially since owners of the Bucco Bricks were not told what was happening. "They made another big mistake; they shouldn't have done that," said Ryan Smith. To get ahead of any potential concern regarding the brick, the trust issued a statement on their Facebook page, saying, "Every single brick has been saved, including those that were damaged. We're currently exploring meaningful ways to repurpose them somewhere outside the theater so they remain a visible and valued part of our legacy." According to those whom we spoke with, the Westmoreland Cultural Trust's idea of repurposing the bricks is a good call. "They could do something with it in the courthouse, maybe put it in the square or something, maybe a small sculpture, put them on the ground here," Smith said. "[They could] build a wall like they did [with] the Vietnam wall close to it," added Henry Padlo. Regardless of what they do, people are at least pleased they let them know it was happening.
New York Times
01-04-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Glengarry Glen Ross' Review: Caveat Emptor, Suckers!
Watch out for Richard Roma. Top man among the bottom feeders at a scammy Chicago real estate agency, he has a hypnotic come-on and a dizzying spiel. Identifying your vulnerabilities with forensic accuracy, he'll lance them with a blunt needle. ('You think you're queer?' he asks one mark. 'I'm going to tell you something: We're all queer.') If it's what you need, he'll be the brother who thinks big on your behalf, who sees beyond your sad habit of safety to the rewards only risk can offer. Not that there are actually rewards. The lots he's selling in Florida, in developments ludicrously called Glengarry Highlands and Glen Ross Farms, are worthless. Back at the office, too, he's the alpha among losers. On the leaderboard of recent earnings, he stands closest by far to the $100,000 mark that will win him a Cadillac in the agency's sales contest. (The two lowest earners will be fired.) His colleagues are merely additional marks to be bamboozled. They have schemes; he has juice. No wonder he remains, 41 years after he first hit Broadway in David Mamet's 'Glengarry Glen Ross,' one of theater's greatest characters: the unregulated id of sociopathic capitalism. He makes Willy Loman look like a softy. This salesman will never die. Or so I thought. But in the weirdly limp revival that opened on Monday at the Palace Theater, something has flipped. As played by Kieran Culkin, leading a sales team that also features Bob Odenkirk, Bill Burr and Michael McKean, Roma is no longer the master of everyone else's neuroses; he's neurotic himself. Especially in the scene that ends the first act, as he winds up for a pitch into the soul of a schlub, he is so deeply weird and interior that any semblance of a confident exterior evaporates. The man couldn't sell a dollar for a dime. Chalk this up to casting that confuses the flippant charm of Culkin's usual characters, like those he played in 'Succession' and 'A Real Pain,' with the will to conquer that's needed here. It takes highly honed theatrical skill to project dominance to the back of a big house for long stretches. (In previous Broadway productions, Roma was played by heavyweights: Joe Mantegna, Liev Schreiber and Bobby Cannavale; Al Pacino played him in the 1992 movie.) Culkin, whose only previous Broadway outing was as a petty drug dealer in the 2014 production of 'This Is Our Youth,' has the charisma but not the steel. Long before the end of the eight-minute monologue that's supposed to be his big aria, he wilts. The same could be said of Patrick Marber's staging in the overscale Palace, not usually a playhouse. Even with the balcony closed, the actors must work very hard to be heard, as Mamet is no fan of microphones. (No sound designer is credited, but a vocal coach, Kate Wilson, is.) Nor is it just the theater that's too big; inevitably, to fill it, so is the scenic design by Scott Pask. The Chinese restaurant that's the setting for Act I, in which no more than two people are onstage at a time, could hold a glamorous party for 100. 'Glengarry' wants grimy intimacy, or at least the illusion of it. But at whatever scale the play is done, Mamet tests a director's mettle with his daring construction. The Chinese restaurant scenes, three in a row, each introduce, with no explanation, two new characters in medias res. First we get Shelley Levene (Odenkirk), the salesman currently in last place on the leaderboard with a total of zero, and John Williamson (Donald Webber Jr.), the manager in charge of the all-important leads. Levene tries begging and bribing for better prospects, but Williamson is unforthcoming. Next are Dave Moss (Burr), in second place, and George Aaronow (McKean), far below in third. The contrast between them is startling: Aaronow, agreeable and strait-laced, seems resigned to the dog-eat-dog workings of the system; Moss, a hothead boiling with envy, is hellbent on subverting it. With elaborate indirection, he tries to trap Aaronow into a plan to rob the office. Then comes the scene, meant to be the Act I climax, in which Roma buttonholes his mark, James Lingk (John Pirruccello). But by now the play has lost so much momentum that even if Culkin were Pacino, he'd be stuck at the bottom of a bag. This is to some extent the result of Marber's fidelity to Mamet's minimalist ethos. The clumsy blackouts that end each scene are no more dramatic than setting your phone on sleep. (The otherwise good lighting is by Jen Schriever.) Nor does any music cover the transitions; you can feel whatever energy has been laboriously ginned up draining away in the dark. If Mamet prefers his own music, fair enough. Has there ever been dialogue as piquant and polyphonic as his? Shaping melodies out of rants and obbligatos out of expletives, he creates character from the sound not the meaning of his words, which are in any case mostly variations on the same few four-letter favorites. You can hear that music intermittently in the first act, especially when Odenkirk and McKean, in separate scenes, find their rhythm. Both actors have been, among other things, comedians — but that's also true of Burr, who is working too hard at being sweaty and nervous. In any case, everyone improves in the second act, when the action shifts to the ransacked office and all the characters (plus a policeman played by Howard W. Overshown) are in play. With less weight on their shoulders, Burr and Culkin relax; Odenkirk and especially McKean shine. I wonder whether that reflects a change in the way 'Glengarry' resonates in 2025. In 1984, the play gave memorable shape to a growing understanding that the underworld of sleazy small business was merely a microcosm of the bigger, more polite variety. It suggested the way social Darwinism lay at the root of our economic system, with its zero-sum games and dominance pyramids. There's a reason Mitch and Murray, the owners of the agency and creators of the contest, are never seen, like golden-parachuters or two-bit Godots. It also says something that the play is dedicated to Harold Pinter, whose thug fantasias ('The Caretaker,' 'The Homecoming') trod this dramatic territory first. Now, in part thanks to the cultural power of 'Glengarry' — as well as Mamet's 'American Buffalo,' which opened on Broadway in 1977 — both men's ideas have become conventional in the process of being overtaken and one-upped by reality. The whole world, many feel, is now a consortium of thugocracies, some even sanctioned by popular acclaim. In that context, two-bit players are too puny to worry about, and greed at the scale of a Cadillac unremarkable. So it's not just because this is such a patchy production, or because Odenkirk and McKean are nevertheless so good in it, that the losers make the biggest impressions. The winners, once glamorous, now have nothing new to show us. Whether in desperation or dignity, the defeated now do.
