Last night Libby and I geeked out hardcore and watch the Tony awards, honoring achievements on Broadway this past year. Flopped on my bed eating Terra chips (those things are so goddamn good) we enjoyed the musical performances, hit-or-miss fashions, eloquent speeches, and just general happiness radiated by those lucky enough to be making their careers as artists.

Spring Awakening, which I’ve already talked about, took 8 awards, including Best Musical. This makes me happy. It’s a cool show. My only concern is that with these acoolades the cast becomes a bunch of self-important, egomaniacal jerks. DON’T DO IT, YOUNG TALENTED CAST!! You will be so much more adored (by me and others) if you remain talented, AND humble in the face of your huge achievements.

The win that I was happiest to see though was Journey’s End, a play set in a bunker full of British soldiers on the front lines of World War I. I was still interning at Binder when they began the casting process for this play, and I’m really happy it turned out so well. The performers (12 men) were excellent. I was fortunate to get a ticket to the Saturday matinee (the show closed Sunday right before the Tonys, due to lackluster ticket sales – I paid for a balcony ticket and got bumped to the front mezzanine – WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU NEW YORK THEATREGOERS?!?!).

Anyway, the action of Journey’s End plays out entirely in a bunker, which was brilliantly set up, using dim lighting and cutting the proscenium in half, a truly hidden claustrophobic space was created to perfectly echo the uncomfortable anticipation of attack by the soldiers.


As the play comes to a close, the soldiers are preparing for a huge attack from the Germans, who are less than a football field’s distance away. A few main characters endure gruesome wounds in a raid, and in a moment of theatrical…genius, I’d say…the last five minutes of the play, the stage is empty. All we hear is the deafening roars and thundering of explosions, as we are left to assume that everyone in C-Company has been killed by this war no one wants to fight.

The curtain call was pretty classy too. The cast stood at attention, not bowing, but just standing, in front of a giant white screen listing the names of real battalions and the names of the men who had died in them during the war.

Ok, spoiler over.

This play really affected me. The message is strong, but not preachy. The acting was incredible. And it made me think. I thought of my Dad, a Vietnam Vet who sustained injuries and lost his best friend. I thought of my Grandad and my Aunt, who also served. And I just cried. I cried because I can’t imagine what it must have felt like to be them, to fight, to be so terrified but forced to be brave so that you didnt’ die. It was really intense. I haven’t reacted to a play like that in a VERY long time. (On a somewhat hilarious note, to lighten the mood a bit, while I cried during curtain call, the very attractive leading man, Hugh Dancy, looked up and made eye contact with me. He smiled. “Great” I thought, “You’re so hot and you’re looking and me and I’m crying because your play made me think of my Dad. Great. This is super attractive, I’m sure. God, you’re so hot, Hugh Dancy!”

I wish I could sit down with the cast and explain to them (sans tears) what their work meant to me, but obviously now that the show has closed I can’t. All I can say is thank you, thank you so much.