by AshleyB
“Promises, Promises”
The Show Starts The Minute You Enter The Theatre
The hustle and bustle of the crowd fills
the room from the freshly laid carpet all the way up to the glistening
chandelier. With one flick of his wrist the orchestra leader stops it all.
Silence falls over the crowd. Lights! Twenty dancers come gliding onto the
stage as the eyes of every single audience member begin to glow. The music
kicks up in full swing, and the spotlight hits the face of Sean Hayes … then
the crowd goes wild!
And that, my friends, is how the newest
Broadway revival Promises, Promises takes way. For the next two and a half hours, I was wrapped up in a
world full of laughter, intrigue and suspense.
But before getting into the nitty gritty of
the show, let me take you on a journey through the amazing Broadway Theatre,
which, after being host to such shows as Les Mis, Miss Saigon and Cabaret, is
now home to Promises, Promises.
As you walk inside, the sheer beauty of the
building surrounds you. Perfectly polished stair railings, the fluffiest carpet
I’ve ever seen, and tons of smiling faces. I was pleasantly surprised by the
ease and atmosphere in the theater – there wasn’t a crowded rush to get to your
seats, despite it being a full house that night, and everyone seemed relaxed
and zen. (I think it was the fluffy carpet between their toes.)
I got to my seat, escorted by the nicest
and funniest theatre worker I have ever come across. Our meeting went a bit
something like this.
“We’re
in seats F13 through F17,” I told her.
“Well
right this way,” she said. “You
three lovely looking people are seated just right next to my post. Now let me
tell you something, you’re pretty, all of you, but I don’t want to see you
snapping pictures of those pretty little faces. Not even one – ‘cause if you
do, you’re gonna be sorry.”
Just up until the show started, we heard
the warning several times, each one with a bit of a different twist – “I like
that camera, but don’t use it.” or “Is that man going to take a picture with
his phone? Lord, I hope not. Please tell me he’s just watching TV or
something.”
As if the show itself were not enough to be
excited about, the people-watching before and during intermission which just as
good. Between the animated hostess and the family that dared to snap a couple
of pictures, the jolly looking man selling wine in a sippy cup, and the strange
lady that decided to announce her arrival to her entire Mezzanine section, I
felt like the show started before the curtain was even opened.
But enough about the ambiance. Let’s talk a
bit about the performance. For those of you who don’t know, “Promises,
Promises” stars Sean Hayes, host of the 64th annual Tony Awards and
comic actor in the sitcom Will & Grace, and Kristin Chenoweth, Broadway
veteran and guest star in several TV shows including The West Wing & Glee.
Set in the 1960s, it comically brings to
stage the Oscar winning film “The Apartment”, whose hero, Chuck Baxter agrees
to lend out his apartment to high-end executives in his company for their extramarital
affairs. You follow his whirlwind adventure as he continues digging himself
deeper and deeper into the sticky web, all because of his single man’s
apartment.
There’s love, heartbreak, drama, sex and
lots and lots of laughter that will keep you at the edge of your seat from
beginning until end. And of course that is not to mention the incredible music
and dancing. Burt Bacharach lends some amazing pieces to the musical including
the well known “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again”. It took me four days to stop
humming the tunes… what do you get when
you fall in love … and now just thinking about it again has guaranteed me
at least an extra three.
All in all, my night spent at the Broadway
Theatre for the newly revived “Promises, Promises” was worth every penny from
beginning to end. The show was amazing, the performances unmatched, and the
choreography hit the ambiance of the piece right on the head. It made me laugh,
it made me cry a bit, it made me laugh so hard I cried, and most of all, it
made me so thankful that I don’t have a nice apartment.