So I didn't see any NY theater this year other than The Coast of Utopia, but I promise you, it wasn't enjoyable. Billy Crudup is genius, so yes I'm thrilled beyond words or even grunting sounds that he won, but Jennifer Ehle? Slightly less shrill than her fellow castmates and overdramatic in several interchangeable female roles that she couldn't have done much with anyhow. Directing? Puh-lease. The play, particularly parts two and hree, were well-choreographed but everything else was dull, dull, annoying, grating, and dull. When Billy Crudup's character died, I spent the rest of part two hoping the theatre would burst into flames. And during number 3, I chastised myself for continuing the self-flagellation of watching Stoppard's "I read a bunch of Russian history/philosophy books and then mangled them in with some pseudo-romance trash to give you a migraine for 9 hours"...
Anyhow. Hoorah for Billy.
Rented the British mockumentary Confetti the other night, which stars Martin Freeman, from the original The Office and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. If you'd like a softer, Britisher version of Christopher Guest's mockumentaries, this might be to your taste. I liked it. It's a small inconsequential thing, but the poor bloke who plays the tennis wedding husband is pretty great at being both sympathetic and despicable at the same time. Should get a BAFTA for it.
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