International House of Sex

So, once a week or so, I get reminded of why I love living in New York.

A friend of mine reviews shows on occasion and gets to bring a plus one. I’ve learned to become an EXCELLENT plus one.

At times, we are rewarded with fantastic performances with insightful plots and stories. Other times, we are exposed to disappointments of epic proportions and when they’re over, we reward ourselves… with scotch.

As a last minute arrangement, we ran off to Don’t Dress for Dinner, written by Marc Camoletti, the playwright who gave us Boeing-Boeing. I haven’t had a chance to see a good, old-fashioned farce since the revival of Noises Off*. Good Lord, that’s forever!

I love getting the chance to see plays and study the performances and stories that I normally wouldn’t have the chance to. I saw Ben Daniels last in Les Liasions Dangereuse. I didn’t even recognize dude. Talk about versatile! He and Adam James played off of each other incredibly well. Patricia Kalember as the cold, yet passionate, indignant yet deceitful Jaqueline is a perfect foil for just about everybody else in the cast. And Jennifer Tilly’s back on Broadway as a ditzy mistress. Girlfriend has made a career out of that, spanning years.

Shoot, I ain’t mad at her.

But for this show, I had no choice but to watch Spencer Kayden. I almost didn’t recognize her at first. Then that unmistakeable voice came in. It wasn’t just her presence, it was the deadpan delivery, the physical transformation, all of it. She was the smartest person in the room and shockingly, the least confused. And when her very large, very testy chef husband (David Aron Damane) walks into all of this fracas, she still keeps control of the room.

She walks off with the show and in a farce, that’s not easy.

She is SO taking the Tony home. It’s happening, people.

But I’m no critic, so don’t take my word for it. Just go check it out for yourself.