Please Sir, I Want Some More

The stars aligned this month: I was able to see fourteen live shows. From lectures and television tapings to stand up comedy and Broadway shows, I hit just about all of the genres. Yes, I fully recognize that I am incredibly lucky. Exhaustion as a result of seeing so many shows is the very definition of a first world problem. Rather than select just one show about which to write, I decided to succinctly recap each one. Like a tweet, only not, because I don’t tweet. Though I’ve heard the young’uns are moving on to some new-fangled business called TikTok.

The Radio City Christmas Spectacular – High kicks. Live camels. Baby Jesus and Santa Claus? Yes, yes indeed.

Tootsie – Santino Fontana won the Tony Award for this role and there is simply no argument against it. 

The Late Show with Stephen Colbert – Colbert seems to genuinely appreciate his audience, taking the time to address them and answer a few questions. He clearly enjoys his job and he has a comfort level that is reassuring. 

The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon – Fallon, not so much. I love SNL-era Jimmy Fallon, but I have yet to get on board with his Tonight Show hosting gig and this did not convince me. His complete lack of interaction with the audience left me pining for Stephen.

Hadestown – While not drawn to tears as the person behind me was, I nonetheless enjoyed the show from soup to nuts. The effect of the set ostensibly coming apart at the seams is incredible. 

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Parts One and Two – Truly theater magic. Magic wands, flying dementors, time travel, I do not know how they do it.

Kathleen Madigan – Pointing out life's absurdities with dry humor and quick wit. What's not to like?

Jesus Christ Superstar – I grew up not so much in a God-fearing household as in a God as fodder for sarcasm household, so I am not familiar with the details of the storyline (other than the end). To say I did not follow the plot is an understatement. King Herod stole the show. Is the Bible full of big, drag-style musical numbers? Maybe I should give it a look. 

National Geographic Live with Dr. Kara Cooney – Say what? King Tut’s tomb may have been first created for a female king? 

Wait, Wait…Don’t Tell Me – What a shame that the almost two and a half hours of pure comic genius has to be edited down to a little less than an hour to air on NPR. Solid gold panelists Paula Poundstone and Mo Rocca did not disappoint and Negin Farsad held her own - pooping without notification is now a permanent part of my everyday language.

Trampled by Turtles – This show revealed my age: when the music started my first reaction was that it was too loud. Trampled are incredibly talented musicians. Almost all of the songs in their set had a driving momentum that did not allow for any moments of peace - the fact that they play that fast for that long is rather unbelievable.. What’s that? Oh, just my younger self calling me, wanting to know why peace is necessary at a concert. Just you wait, younger self.

The Office Musical Parody – Any show that parodies a classic comedy must be absolutely spot on, this was not.

Come From Away – Sweeps you off your feet, takes you to a place far away and gently sets you back down, the same person but changed. Full review coming soon.

The Kitch Lit Series: Wild Game

I devoured Wild Game (pun intended) over the course of about a day and a half. Rarely does a book cross my nightstand that I consider hard to put down. You would not believe the crap friends gave me for putting down Harry Potter with only one chapter left, but that is how I roll. A book is easy to put down when sleep is waiting on the other half of the pillow. Such is not the case with Adrienne Brodeur’s Wild Game; it demands your attention. 

Brodeur’s memoir is equal parts heartbreaking and life affirming. At the center of the book is Brodeur’s relationship with her mother, Malabar. Malabar is larger than life, caring for others but never able to truly put anyone ahead of herself. Adrienne and Malabar’s relationship is changed forever when Malabar wakes teenager Adrienne in the middle of the night to tell that she is having an affair with family friend Ben Souther. Adrienne becomes complicit in the lies, an ally and an alibi. One of the ways in which Malabar, a talented home cook, and Ben spend time with each other in the presence of their spouses is planning and testing recipes for a wild game cookbook. And the lies continue for years. Adrienne comes of age with an incredible weight on her shoulders, but the responsibility also binds mother and daughter in an entirely unique way. Can Adrienne interpret Malabar’s willingness to confide in her a true sign of her mother’s love? The path Brodeur, her mother and their families’ take is full of twists and turns. To reveal too much would be to deprive you of the opportunity to step into their lives as their stories unfold.

Brodeur is an incredibly engaging writer. The anticipation of what is to come is palpable; the pages practically turn themselves. In less that capable hands, an interesting life does not translate to a good book. Brodeur is, thankfully, incredibly adept at putting emotion onto the page and, without caricature, explores the flawed humanity of those around her in a way that is entirely relatable from one angle or another.

The affirmation in Wild Game comes from the fact that this is not revisionist history. Brodeur must reconcile with her mother’s flaws, and, in the process, with the imperfections inherent in humanity. Wild Game reads like fiction. The fact that it is a memoir gives you pause. While reading Wild Game, one cannot help but hold a mirror up to their own life. Smart, well-written and engaging, Wild Game beautifully combines all of the ingredients of a great memoir.