| Ladies and gents,
Forty years is a long time to haunt an opera house. Most outcasts would have moved on by now. Or at least moved above ground.
But not Andrew Lloyd Webber‘s The Phantom of the Opera, which celebrated its ruby anniversary in London last Friday with a spectacular gala at His Majesty’s Theatre, where the chandelier first rose in 1986 and has been threatening to come down ever since.
The evening’s main attraction was a reunion of the original Phantom and Christine, Michael Crawford and Sarah Brightman, who were greeted with the sort of adoration usually reserved for royalty or returning astronauts.
And deservedly so. Forty years later, the magic of those original performances remains undiminished. Andrew’s glorious, unabashedly romantic score has become part of the world’s musical vocabulary. There are very few people alive who couldn’t hum at least a few bars of Music of the Night. Some of them even hum it in tune.
Andrew and the show’s legendary producer, Cameron Mackintosh, addressed the assembled faithful, with Cameron sharing some delightful secrets about the production that might have been.
The late, brilliant designer Maria Björnson, whose ravishing sets and costumes were nothing less than a love letter to the theater itself, had always wanted a horse in the show. At long last, four decades later, she has one.
There were also supposed to be rats. Real theater rats. Director Hal Prince put an end to that notion. And then there were the pigeons, intended to fly majestically into the rafters. They survived precisely one rehearsal before their rather indiscriminate contributions to the scenery brought the experiment to an abrupt end.
Afterward, the festivities continued with a lavish party at the magnificent Theatre Royal Drury Lane, where the champagne flowed and four decades of theatrical history were toasted in suitably grand style.
And Andrew had another gift for the occasion. He has personally revisited the original London cast recording, lovingly remixing and remastering the tapes made at Abbey Road in 1986. The result is sensational. Every lush orchestration, every thrilling vocal, every deliciously extravagant musical flourish sounds newly alive. It is a remarkable act of devotion to a score that has given so much pleasure to so many millions.
The original recording remains the best-selling theater album of all time, and the new edition is getting the royal treatment. Here in New York, one of several listening parties will take place November 1 at Masquerade, the deliciously immersive reimagining of Andrew’s masterpiece.
Meanwhile, the merry lunatics behind Operation Mincemeat have pulled off another theatrical caper worthy of their own show.
Last week, in an inspired bit of international showmanship, the casts of Mincemeat in London, New York, Chicago, and Norwich simultaneously announced, from their respective stages, that the Tony and Olivier Award-winning musical is headed Down Under.
That’s right. Four cities, four curtain calls, one announcement: Operation Mincemeat will open at Melbourne’s Comedy Theatre in September 2027, with additional Australian cities to follow.
For those keeping score, that makes five productions of a musical that began life in a 77-seat London fringe theater. The show, which has amassed a rather fanatical following of self-described “Mincefluencers,” is now playing simultaneously on Broadway and in the West End, with touring companies crisscrossing Britain and North America. Australia is next, with New Zealand, China, and Mexico also on the international itinerary.
Tidbits from around town…
Spied Howard Stern and Jimmy Kimmel dining with their respective better halves at Dumbo’s ABC Kitchens.
Caught Dua Lipa and Callum Turner strolling Madison Avenue together, holding hands.
Overheard two red-faced ladies having a heated argument in Soho. One was staunchly on Kelly Clarkson’s side, while the other was passionately defending Art of Play’s decision not to sell her their mechanical bird.
As always, a toast of something sparkling to you and yours!
Kisses,
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