EVERYBODY'S GOT ONE 

by TRAVIS MICHAEL HOLDER  

"Critics watch a battle from a high place then come down to shoot the survivors."   ~ Ernest Hemingway   

Photo by Matthew Murphy 

Pantages Theatre / Segerstrom Center for the Performing Arts

Yeah, there’s no doubt this is one of those big glitzy golden goose of a crowd-pleasing musical guaranteed to dazzle and someday maybe end up in an open run on the Vegas Strip.

Still, the national tour of the third stage adaptation of the 1959 classic film Some Like It Hot is much more than that. It has a heart bigger than almost all of those other popular film-to-stage conversions combined.

First of all, there’s the infectious toe-tapper of a score by the legendary Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, whose catchy tunes for Hairspray won them a well-deserved Tony among many other honors, as well as an incredibly creative adaptation by Matthew Lopez, Tony-winner for The Inheritance, and Amber Ruffin, Emmy-nominated writer for Late Night with Seth Myers and A Black Lady Sketch Show.

If those credentials aren’t instantly impressive enough, the show is directed and choreographed by Casey Nicholaw, Tony-winner for both Aladdin and The Book of Mormon and responsible for much of the success of The Prom, Mean Girls, Something Rotten!, The Drowsy Chaperone, and Spamalot. In other words, someone who has given us all hours and hours of world-class enjoyment and wonderment.

The towering and incredibly detailed art deco set is from Broadway royalty Scott Pask, Natasha Katz is responsible for the exquisite lighting, and the costuming by Gregg Barnes won him his third Tony. Not chopped liver in the design department here either by any means.

When KA debuted at the MGM Grand, I had a several-day backstage access to the creative team as they were about to open the show and during an interview I asked French-Canadian costume designer Marie Vaillancourt what the main difference was between designing for the Cirque and for the small experimental Montreal theatre company from which they grabbed her.

Her answer was immediate: “Le budget.”

There’s obviously been no expense spared in the creation of the quintessential musical presentation of Some Like It Hot yet, unlike so many other productions taking on a project of this size and scope, none of it gets in the way of the storytelling.

The original Oscar-winning screenplay by Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond, itself based on the 1935 French film Fanfare of Love, was perfectly written for the times in which it debuted, but what Lopez and Ruffin have contributed could not be more contemporary and offers such a boost of diversity to the story that miserable ogre Donnie Two-Dolls might ban it from playing the Kennedy Center—or whatever his minions bent on outrageous distraction achieve renaming it by then.

Jerry/Daphne (Jack Lemmon in the film), the irresistible Sugar Kane (the iconic Marilyn Monroe role), and bandleader Sweet Sue (originally played by my lategreat pal Joan Shawlee) are all African American in this new version, and Daphne's smitten millionaire suitor Osgood Fielding III (the Joe E. Brown role) is now Mexican American and only goes by his given name Pedro Francisco Alvarez when he’s at his swank nightspot in Mexico (“The world reacts to what it sees,” he explains to Daphne, “and in my experience the world doesn’t have very good eyesight”).

Sue’s band members are more feminist warriors than gum-chewing “delicate flowers” and when a promoter tries to skimp on their pay, they attack him with the song “Zee Bap,” which includes in the lyrics:

“Black or White or Latin, Asian, Christian or Jew,

It’s awfully nice to know we can all parlez-vous…

And when we band together, girls,

I'm certain that you'll find,

We're a family that's linguistically intertwined."

The guy pays them triple.

Of course, the biggest change is what happens to Jerry (Tavis Kordell) when he starts getting used to being Daphne. “I finally feel seen,” he admits to his lifelong friend Joe (Matt Loehr), “but I don’t have a word for what I feel.”

Luckily, they do have a song, “You Coulda Knocked Me Over with a Feather,” a true showstopper that, thanks to the brilliant Kordell, is the highlight of the entire musical. And as far as fighting stereotypes is concerned, when Daphne is asked by Joe if they intend to make this transformation permanent, they answer, “ Maybe tomorrow a suit and tie… I like having options.”

Kordell and Loehr, along with Ellis-Gaston as a far less ditzy Sugar than the wide-eyed “I’m not very bright” persona adopted by the super-smart Miss Monroe, Tarra Conner Jones as the Bessie Smith-esque Sweet Sue, and especially Edward Juvier as an unexpectedly all-singing, all-dancing Osgood, could all not be more perfectly cast.

Still, the true star of this Hot revamping of an already entertaining tale is Shaiman and Wittman’s award-winning score and, above everything that makes this production one not to miss is Nicholaw’s knockout Tony and Drama Desk-awarded choreography. It’s interesting how over time the signature dance moves of artists such as Bob Fosse, Twyla Tharp, Matthew Bourne, and Alvin Ailey have become instantly recognizable and now, after years of appreciating the work of Casey Nickolaw, I’m purdy sure I could pick out his work in an Olympic dance-off.

Of course, it would be impossible to appreciate Nicholaw’s handiwork without an ensemble cast able to keep up with his talent. This may be a touring cast but you’d never know it—and literally every castmember, from the leads to Daphne and Josephine’s horn-totin’ bandmates, to every waiter, gangster, and G-man, dances like Honey’s proverbial wind and tap their way in precision unison across the stage like an eclectic chorusline of Gregory Hines clones.

I came away from this fresh and effervescent revinvention of Some Like It Hot not only pleasantly charming but I also realized, as we made our way through the crunch and into the majestic Pantages lobby, I was experiencing a satisfying new boost of appreciation for who I am—or should I say, who we all are or deserve to be.

As Osgood Fielding III once so eloquently noted, “Well, nobody’s perfect.”

THROUGH AUG 19: Pantages Theatre, 6233 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood. 800.982.2787 or broadwayinhollywood.com

RETURNING OCT. 7-19: Segerstrom Center for the Performing Arts, 600 Town Center Dr., Costa Mesa. 714.556.2787 or scfta.org

Photo by Jeff Lorch 

Rogue Machine in collaboration with HorseChart Theatre

What the heck, Rogue Machine? I keep worrying with each new opening that this will be the one. The dog. The misstep. How can you guys keep churning out amazing productions one right after another?

In the LA premiere of John Kolvenbach’s Reel to Reel, co-produced by the Machine in a second collaboration with the HorseChart Theatre Company, the 55-year relationship of a quirky yet somewhat oddly undistinquished Manhattan couple is explored while traveling down a remarkable non-linear path, morphing seamlessly from scene to scene, slipping back and forth in time from the early clash of forging a comfortable togetherness to the lovers’ cranky but still devoted finale dealing with those so-called golden years.

Maggie is a driven cult-centric performance artist who creates her art using sound effects featuring those ordinary clicks and drips that define our everyday lives, all punctuated by secretly purloined snippets of conversation, while her husband Walter is an unsuccessful filmmaker who begrudgingly lives in the shadow of his wife’s unstoppable creative energy.

Not that he doesn’t have his own mission in life in its latterday stages: “I’m trying to outlive my vanity,” he offers. “That’s my project.”

We become privy to the couple’s many idiosyncrasies developed together—or more accurately patiently and lovingly overlooked—over the course of five-and-a-half decades as Kolvenbach’s incredibly neck-jerking script swings rapidly through time with near-manic spiritedness.

With all the demands inherent in how any couple changes and shifts and settles in during a long-term marriage, the roles of Maggie and Walter are played by a quartet of remarkable actors whose work together could inspire a master class in ensemble performance. Venerable veterans Alley Mills and Jim Ortlieb star as Maggie and Walter at age 82, while their younger counterparts at ages 27 and 42 are assayed by Samantha Klein and Brett Aune.

Everything about Reel to Reel is downright extraordinary in a rather unextraordinary way, especially in chronicling a wildly covetable love between two people even when each complains about the other’s kinks and eccentricities. “Whatever you may see,” Walter prophetically observes, “it’s all mostly your own reflection.” If that isn’t a perfect description of surviving any relationship, I don’t know what is.

What Kolvenbach has created could so easily slip into gimmickry but never does it stop being fascinating, even in its enveloping ordinariness. The playwright’s power to weave through time with ease, bringing insight and understanding to the couple’s complicated relationship while resisting the temptation to push his characters into even a single tragic situation—besides one typically unhinged and, in retrospect, nonsensical argument—makes this one of the best and most moving plays of the year.

Through the decades, their story is continuously punctuated by sound, from Maggie’s many recordings of simple private whispered conversations to all the noises of life which anyone would find familiar. Magically, those sounds are delivered by the actors themselves, executing sound designer Jeff Gardner’s remarkable foley plot in clear sight behind the movable gossamer scrims of Evan A. Bartoletti’s highly flexible set evoking a series of Japanese paper screens.

Now, I needed to ask for a copy of Kolvenbach’s play to read before I could comment on what exactly director Matthew McCray’s continuously fluid staging contributed to the production. Indeed, I discovered most of the innovation was provided by McCray’s signature visionary imagination; in the script, the foley is suggested to be performed in chairs placed on either side of the stage rather than as something smoothly assimilated into the action. McCray’s complete understanding of the dreamlike aspects of Kolvenbach’s tale becomes like another character, as does Gardner’s omnipresent foley design.

The precision quartet of actors are forced not only to find a path to make their complex characters and their riveting love for each other real and honest, but at the same time they must meld their flashes of often interrupted dialogue into poetry as though playing the final scene in Michael Cristofer’s The Shadow Box—all the while doubling as stagehands, generating the breakneck foley and the play’s meticulously choreographed scene changes. I can only bet rehearsing for opening night must have been something of a marathon experience and in a perfect world, these folks will surely be a shoo-in for Ensemble Cast of the Year honors.

There’s a lingering message in Reel to Reel that made my partner and me squeeze our hands together even tighter than usual in the darkened Matrix, something I'll take away with me like a badge of honor and will surely never forget. “The less we do,” Walter shares with his lifelong love, “the more at home it feels.” I have no idea what age John Kolvenbach might be but if he isn’t as long-in-tooth as I am, he certainly has an uncanny ability to channel the simple wonderments of life as though he’s lived 'em many times before.

And listen here, Rogue Machine, cuzz’n I’ve got sumptin’ important to say:

Your current season deserves one of those special regional Tony Awards this spring like the one Pasadena Playhouse was given last year. You’ve proven yourself to be a company to admire over the last few years but truly, what you’ve accomplished and shared with our grateful community in 2024-25 alone has been something almost miraculous.

THROUGH AUG 23: Rogue Machine at the Matrix Theatre, 7657 Melrose Av., LA. 855.585.5185 or roguemachinetheatre.org

El Portal Theatre

Longtime Los Angeles weatherman Fritz Coleman retired in 2020 after four decades delivering his signature uncannily cheery forecasts on a daily basis but at age 76, his solo show Unassisted Residency, which plays once monthly at the El Portal’s intimate Monroe Forum, proves he’s still got the chops to deliver a jocular and lighthearted tsunami to his eager and most loyal fans.

Coleman began his career coming to LA to pursue his passion for standup comedy in the early 80s after first achieving success as a well-loved deejay radio personality in Buffalo, New York.

As the story goes, a producer at NBC caught his act one night at a local club and began to woo him to become a weatherman at KNBC-TV since our weather here was so consistent that he felt it needed a little on-air boost of humor to make it more interesting.

Delivering the daily forecast with a twinkle in his eye beginning in 1984 didn’t stop Coleman from continuing to chase his original dream by performing on local stages in several successful live shows, including his hilarious award-winning turn in The Reception: It’s Me, Dad! which played around town for several years to sold out houses.

Now, after leaving NBC four years ago, Coleman is back but the demographics have changed—or I might politely say… matured.

In my own case, as someone a year older than Coleman, his focus on finding the humor in aging is most welcome. In Unassisted Residency, the comedian talks about the challenges life has to offer in these, our so-called golden years, from physical deterioration to losing contemporaries on a regular basis to navigating the brave new world of technology and social media.

As his opening warmup act, the very funny and professionally self-deprecating Wendy Liebman notes, while looking out at the sea of gray hair and Hawaiian camp shirts in their audience, that Coleman chose to present his show as Sunday matinees so his target audience can shuffle our drooping derrières on home before dark.

Along the way, he also tackles subjects such as retirement communities, nonstop doctors’ appointments, incontinence, and Viagra, not to mention having grown up sucking in our parents’ omnipresent clouds of secondhand tobacco smoke and that generation’s lackadaisical attitude toward our safety and our health, all before moving on discuss to his all-new admiration for those heroic modern educators who during the pandemic had the patience to deal with zoom-teaching his grandkids.

The one thing he doesn’t talk much about is the weather—that is beyond mentioning how grateful he is that our current heat wave didn’t deter those gathered from venturing out of our caves and offering as a throwaway that one of the reasons he retired four years ago was climate change. Although he never says it, he doesn’t really have to; we get that even for someone as funny as Coleman, everyone has their limits when it comes to the potentially catastrophic future for our poor misused and abused planet.

Then when he launches into reminiscing about the amazingly incessant search for sexual gratification in our younger years (that time Stephen King once wrote when the males of the species all look at life through a spermy haze) and how that has changed since then. As a now single guy still looking for love—with some choice remarks about online dating sites—he tells a rather steamy tale about one date that proves it ain’t over ‘til it’s over, something of which I can definitely relate.

I first met Coleman in 1988 or 1989 when I did a feature interview with him as a cover story for The Tolucan (the more industry-oriented and less Evening Women’s Club-ish-pandering predecessor of the Tolucan Times).

He was gracious and charming and kept me laughing so hard back then that I couldn’t take notes fast enough, a knack he not only hasn’t lost but has sharpened considerably over the past 40 years. I couldn’t help wondering how many of the audience members at the Forum have been following him since then and for whom the topic of not-so gently aging hits home as dead-center as it did me.

This doesn’t mean you have to be 70-something to appreciate Fritz Coleman’s hilarious gift for creating homespun storytelling in his ever-extending monthly outing called Unassisted Residency.

My partner Hugh, who is a mere 42 years my junior and was quite literally at least three decades younger than anyone else in the audience last Sunday, laughed longer and louder than anyone else in the audience—perhaps a reaction to hearing me bitch continuously about getting old for the last 12 years?

PLAYS one Sunday each month at the El Portal Theatre’s Monroe Forum Theatre, 5269 Lankershim Blvd., NoHo.  For schedule: www.elportaltheatre.com/fritzcoleman.html