One of my favorite things about being a smog-covered social butterfly in New York is the extraordinary opportunity for free entertainment. It seems as if someone is always calling me up and inviting me to a movie preview screening, offering free tickets for a chamber music concert, putting me on the guest list for some after-something-party at some club, etc. This week I enjoyed both a new Broadway show and a movie premiere party--gratis.

Sweeney Todd
It's not usual for a musical comedy's tuba player to get top billing--above the title even--but then it's not usual for a Broadway show to employ a world-famous stage diva as its tuba player. One of the best aspects of the new Broadway production of Sweeney Todd is that the small cast serves both as actors and orchestra, playing their instruments right up there on the stage. And yes, Patti LuPone plays the tuba.

LuPone's Mrs. Lovett is a bizarre combination of grit, failed floozy, and working-class desperado. Of course, the woman who made Evita famous on Broadway has a very distinctive voice, one that is well-suited to Stephen Sondheim's quirky melodies, which seem filled with accidentals. Odd flats and big leaps, sudden burst of quick tempo are the modus operandi in this score, and I thought both leads--Michael Cerveris plays Sweeney Todd--did a good job.

Anyway, the production lacks some excitement. The chamber ensemble sound of the musician/actors on stage gives the work a nice folksy feel, but once the novelty of LuPone shaking her ample ass while oom-pah-oom-pah-ing on her tuba wears off, the audience is left with a nearly static set, understated (modern dress) costumes, and the songs themselves.

Sondheim can write a great song. I'm no major fan, especially of his later shows, but I can appreciate the underlying talent. Funny lyrics are woven throughout the piece, and the cleverness of them does not feel empty because of the darkness of the subject matter. (I did think, however, that Angela Lansbury, who originated the Lovett role, would sing this stuff with more emotional resonance; LaPone's handling of the comedy erred toward camp). Priest, the closing song of Act I, is a tour de force of pun and wit, written in a sing-song melody. Act I outshines Act II--in both music and nuance. Act II becomes a bloody progression of plot and recap. I'm glad I saw it, and I would suggest it for die-hard musical lovers and Sondheimites, but general audiences have no need to spend their dough in this ghoulish bakery. Of course, my tickets were complimentary, so....

Prime
Movie people can get you into anything. I've had the great luck of counting a number of movie publicists among my close friends over the years. Last night I was treated to the premiere and premiere party of Prime, a romantic comedy about Jewish stereotypes, Uma Thurman's transition to middle-aged hottie, and naked male torsos. Chick flick, check.

The movie itself was enjoyable enough--I had a few chuckles, I enjoyed the views of Bryan Greenberg's skinny belly, and I'll see anything with Uma in it. Meryl Streep plays the stereotypical Jewish mother who happens to be the mother of the male love interest and the therapist of the female love interest. Believe me, lots of heterosexual hijinks ensue. Despite the, uh, lite quality of the movie, it had a good ending.

So did the evening. The movie was followed by a premiere party at the Four Seasons restaurant on Park Avenue. It's on the street level of a classic Philip Johnson modernist skyscraper. As is the way with these events, the place was packed with the movie's stars, other random actors, some supermodels, mogul-types, PR people out the wazoo, and various hangers-on like me and my friends.

We got there before the crowds, so we made a beeline for the raw bar and stuffed ourselves with oysters, clams, plates of lobster meat, crab, and octopus salad. I live for octopus. A full bar was in full effect, and in the next room were five or six more food stations. The duck looked good but my friend Rafael said it was dry. The beef tenderloin was rare, tender, and delicious. The sushi was adequate, though I did not appreciate Anna Paquin cutting in line right in front of us. Bitch.

But it was Uma's night, right? She's tall and even more gorgeous in person than on the silver screen. She was dressed in silver and her blonde curls were piled casually about her head. Meryl Streep was short and I only got a glimpse of her. Bryan Greenberg looked more buff in person, but was just as cute as in the movie (Paula disagreed, saying he was jowly in person!).

Anyway, I don't really recommend the movie, but I do recommend the Four Seasons--and if you can go there for free, more power to you. Can I come with?