Pygmalion

We were up in New York City on Friday, right in between the two storms. It turned out to be a lovely day, perfect walking around weather. We stayed at the Marriott Marquis, where they gave us a corner room overlooking Times Square, with complimentary room service breakfast in the morning. Nice.

We normally go to NYC many times each year, and almost always schedule a trip during the Christmas season. We hadn't planned to go this year until we heard the Roundabout Theatre Company was doing Pygmalion at the American Airlines Theatre. My wife called me with the news back in late October and within an hour I had booked our room and purchased our tickets - just in time too. Virtually the only seats left were for this weekend, the last weekend of the run.

We thought about going up to the Metropolitan Museum once we arrived on Friday but decided we probably didn't have enough time to do it justice. So we did a Christmas walk, heading down Broadway and then east on 42nd Street. 42nd Street is a bit ragged right now - lots of construction going on between Broadway and 6th Avenue, until you cross 6th and arrive at Bryant Park, a place I love,especially in the spring and summer. During the Christmas season they have Holiday Shops set up, and we strolled through those for awhile, Christmas being the one time during the year when I can actually enjoy shopping. Then we watched the ice skaters at The Pond for awhile before heading over to 5th Avenue to say hello to Patience and Fortitude, standing guard in front of the Library. Patience still has a look of quiet elegance about him, though both my wife and I agreed that Fortitude is looking a bit weary. We understood though, and forgave him. We all get that way sometimes, after all.

From there we headed up 5th Avenue, stopping in at this store and that. We were disappointed to find that the Saks Fifth Avenue Christmas window display was very limited this year. They only have four or five windows decorated for Christmas, the rest being dedicated to normal apparel displays. Sigh. Civilization continues its slow retreat.

From there we stopped into St. Patrick's Cathedral and rested our feet for awhile. We stopped for awhile in front of the creche, then hit the street again, crossing over to Rockefeller Center to see the Tree - a Christmas in New York must, even if you've done it dozens of times, as we have. I rarely feel that old warm Christmas glow anymore, but I sometimes do when I'm standing in front of the tree at the Rock. It didn't come this year though, probably because there were no carolers around. Either that or because the cynic in me has taken over for good. Anyhow, I started singing carols myself at about this point as we continued up 5th Avenue, loud enough for my wife to hear and maybe some passersby, but not so loud as to cause any public disturbance. I like to stroll and sing.

We ended up in Central Park, no surprise as we both love it, and cut through from East Side to West Side, stopping at Wollman Rink to watch the ice skaters, ending up at Columbus Circle, where they had more Christmas shops set up (they have these shops set up at Grand Central Terminal and Lincoln Center also and, I'm sure, several other places in the city.) From there we pretty much made a beeline down Broadway back to the hotel, as we'd been walking for over three hours at this point and it was getting late.

We freshened up and went to dinner at Trattoria Trecolori on 47th street, one of our favorite Italian restaurants in the city. The food is delicious, the martinis bracing, and the atmosphere is fine. Actually, I liked the atmosphere a little better at their old location - it was more old world - but it's fine at the new place, and the quality of the food has lost nothing due to the move. Highly recommended.

Finally, the play, which was brilliant. Other than the fame of the play itself, the main attraction of this production was Claire Danes playing the part of Eliza Doolittle. She was fine indeed, but, for me, the two outstanding performances were Jefferson Mays' in the role of Henry Higgins and Jay Sanders as Mr. Doolittle. Mays' Higgins is jarring at first, for those of us used to Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady, which, of course, was based on Pygmalion. Apparently, Mays has reached back to Shaw's original intent of the Higgins character. Rather than suave and debonair, this Higgins is vain, childish, and pig-headed, a mama's boy with an overblown sense of his own importance, completely unaware of his own cruelty or the damage he may be doing to Eliza with his experiment. But while there is virtually nothing admirable about this Higgins, you're drawn to him, due both to the brilliance of Shaw's dialogue and Mays' bravura performance. Once you've left the sugar-coating of "My Fair Lady" behind, you're left with something deeper and more profound, and while the jokes are just as funny, there's an edge to them - they cut to the quick. Indeed, when Higgins is at his cruelest, you're almost unsure whether laughter is the appropriate response. In the closing scene, Mays' Higgins stands alone on stage, everyone else having departed for Mr. Doolittle's wedding. Eliza has broken free of him finally, and has said her final goodbye, but Higgins assures his mother that she will be back. As the door closes, Mays faces the audience, defiant. The air of confidence about him slowly dissolves as he realizes, finally, that Eliza will not return - she is gone. That Mays could convey this silent transformation is a tribute to his talent. It is not merely the look on his face; it couldn't be, in a theatre this size. His whole body is involved. He very nearly shakes, and suddenly, he appears smaller, almost fearful. The lights go down. It is a breathless, startling moment.