Who's that hunk on a horse? Oh, it's just breakout Broadway star Cheyenne Jackson, who's making his prime-time debut on 30 Rock tonight.
In honor of the occasion, Out's editor in chief Aaron Hicklin sat down with Jackson for a Q&A in which we learn where this multitasker -- who's also starring in the current revival of Finian's Rainbow and just released an album -- got the nickname "the human ThighMaster" and why he thinks he must've been married to Jane Krakowski (Xanadau's Kira and 30 Rock's Jenna Maroney) in another life.
> Pasty Robert Pattinson reveals that he felt a little star-struck
when he came face to face with the golden vision that is Zac Efron,
"just because his face is so specific, it’s kind of surreal."
> The first and only Playboy bunny to come out (Stephanie Adams, Miss November 1992) is marrying ... a man.
OK, he didn't really collapse, but we were concerned it was a significant risk when the announcement came last night that he was eliminated from the competition. Luckily, everyone was prepared for the situation, and Len even made a special speech about what a lovely young man he is and how much he has achieved this season, and that if Aaron was his son, he would be very proud of him. Awwww. I am relieved Aaron is leaving if only because the constant ribbing about his crying was starting to feel a little mean. We get it, he's young with a low tolerance for pain -- give him a few years and some sessions with a leather daddy and both of these issues will get resolved. Or maybe some of us like him this fresh and fragile? And I don't mean me: during the DanceCenter segment (Dancing with the Stars meets ESPN's SportsCenter), Jerry Rice calls him "a snowflake on a lily pad."
So now we are left with four competitors: Mya, Joanna, Donny and Kelly. Donny has the psychological strength of character, but his physical stamina might falter (this is not a sly comment on his age, the man is simultaneously performing a show in Vegas!), while Kelly will need to dig deep and show she can consistently perform well in all three of her dances next week. Both of them are crowd favorites and have brought the most moments of sweetness and joy to the show this season, so their fans could conceivably carry them both through the semifinals and into the final three, but I suspect the trophy will boil down to a battle between Derek's inspired choreography and competitive will to win (while carrying Joanna with him) versus Mya's superior dancing chops.
Yes, there was a threesome last night on Gossip Girl. But more importantly, there was also a break-up! And in this case, collegiate sexual experimentation was for the straight kids, and heart-break measured only by the end of a committed and long term relationship was for the Manhattan gay boys - I know, I know, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around that as well. TV, you know? What can you say.
The end of an era. Eric van der Woodsen, Blake Lively's pixiedusted little brother, played by Connor Paolo of the ever-changing highlights, was dumped last night by his high school boyfriend, Jonathan...Fizziwig, or somesuch played by Matt Doyle (who can now be seen on Broadway's Bye Bye Birdie).
Not having watched Gossip Girl very attentively this season I can't tell you what exactly went down that robbed Matt Doyle's heart of the flame he once carried for that suicidal little spunk of a boy, but I can pretty much assure it was probably wasn't all that interesting. After all, three seasons in, despite Eric having been checked into a mental institution, been the secret boyfriend of a closeted lacrosse captain (oh jeez, high school flashbacks, meet me at the watercooler sometime and I'll tell you how that one goes), and suffered the death of his step-father, he's remained the least developed character in the cast. Jonathan? Well, he doesn't have a last name.
But we must look forward. Maybe once Eric's heart has mended and he stops playing Taylor Swift's "Forever and Always" and lurking around Jay Brannan shows in Hoboken like I did all summer, he can finally blossom as a character -- and hey, maybe find an even better boyfriend. You know, one that he actually kisses. Since Connor's already gone through Jesse Swensen and Matt Doyle, we assume his taste is strictly Spring Awakening, so might I suggest cutie Kyle Riabko, who played Melchior in the summer tour cast? Or if Little E really wants to step it up in the steam department, how about Jonathan B. Wright, whose cheek bones I pretty much never get tired of looking at? Or hey, for some English lovin', Jamie Blackley, from the London tour, who, I can tell you personally, is a fox.
Matty Doyle couldn't be reached (via my friend not handing over his cell number for editorial purposes) but the next time he's hanging around Joe's Pub, I'm getting the back-stage truth on why these St. Jude lovebirds will no longer be sharing a Pinkberry with kiwi on the Met steps any more.
> Hasbro is poking a stick at one of the few nostalgic pop culture stones left unturned by the recent flurry of remakes, revisions, and sequels -- it's resuscitated the licensing rights to Jem and the Holograms! At the moment no one has any idea exactly what this means -- there might be plans for either a movie or a TV series which may or may not have aHigh School Musical scriptwriter and/or the director of something amazing and bizarre looking called The Secret of the Magic Gourdattached.But we already know that Samantha Newark, voice of the original Jem, is ready for her comeback!
When Rent premiered off-Broadway in 1996, it was still possible to find an apartment in the East Village that might not break the bank. There was just the faintest glimpse of hope in the HIV drug development pipeline that would eventually pump out protease inhibitors that changed the narrative arc of the AIDS epidemic. And Rent felt like a revolution, an unapologetic, raucous rock musical about queers and junkies doing their best to survive in a cruel world.
After 12 years ruling the Great White Way and winning every award for which it was eligible, the show finally closed -- but a touring production currently making its way cross country reunites a majority of the original cast for one last curtain call. There are still day-of cheap tickets for the struggling artists and students among us, impassioned pitches by cast post-show for donations to charitable organizations -- but now the tour also has a Twitter and, for real this time, an expiration date.
The show still stands out, all this time later. Anthony Rapp, who just turned 38, is the rare actor who can make a matinee more than a decade in the making feel like Mark's opening night. (The stage is far kinder to the older cast members than the 2005 film was.) The strength is still Jonathan Larson's songs and the many returning cast members' performances, including Adam Pascal as Roger. I dare you to find a show with more back-to-back stunning duets not penned by Sondheim. Sure, it's a history piece in places -- not because AIDS is any less a threat now but because the urgency and grief captured so poignantly in the play might as well be a newsreel. But whether it feels contemporary or not, the sheer intensity of the story -- which after all takes its cues from a far more out of date production, La Boheme -- still packs one hell of an emotional punch.
Rent's eventual retirement -- once it finishes its run this winter -- begs an obvious question: Who shall inherit the crown? One show likely to strike a similar chord among young theatergoers is American Idiot, the rock opera adaptation of Green Day's music by Spring Awakening director Michael Mayer. Developed in a similar homegrown, energetic manner at the Berkeley Reperatory Theater, it's expected to move to Broadway in 2010. The staging takes Rent's stripped down vertical construction to a heightened, multi-media level -- but its scenes with lost, confused young men searching for redemption as they sing into each other's faces feel like a tribute of its own to Mark and Roger.
You know you’re just marking time in an “off” season of Project Runway when suddenly everyone watching the show in your living room starts wishing they’d bring back Suede. Remember him? Third person-talker? Lots of hair product? Annoying?
I know, narrow it down.
But that’s what you start craving when a season kicks off with promise and quickly turns lifeless. I can barely talk about it to friends this time around because they’ve all dropped out as viewers. But not me. I’m devoted.
And for my devotion I am rewarded in this final challenge episode with a shot of a hotel room full of female contestants, all stressed out and finally becoming aware of the vague dislike they feel for each other, halfheartedly and half-wittedly trying to verbally joust for the cameras when, in a perfect world, they’d have been full-on BattleBots-ing it by episode 3. It’s a limp exchange wherein they coyly assign dog behaviors to one another without naming names. Like, “Some quiet dogs are mean,” and “Some cute dogs will bite you,” and “Oh yeah, well you’re like that tiny dog that lives in Paris Hilton’s purse and is really adorable and eats fancy dinners and has a nice Louis Vuitton collar and… oh wait, am I supposed to be insulting someone right now? Line, please?”
Mostly I just want one of them to turn into Tyson the Skateboarding Bulldog. Because I need something, anything, to happen in the next week or two, before Irina goes home with the whole thing.
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