Time is of the essence, Very Special Readers! If you’re going to be in New York City, you must check out That Golden Girls Show before they close on December 31st!
So here’s the thing. I had originally planned on this post being longer, but then my neighbor’s smoke detector went off for 45 minutes. We have faulty smoke alarms in this building (uhhh not reassuring at all now that I’m typing that out…) and there have been many false alarms. So I was banging on his door and then running around the building, calling the emergency after hours number, going outside and across the street to see if the light was on in his apartment, as one does, etc, etc. I’m sure I look like a creep on the security footage because then I was feeling his door and doorknob and sniffing the air for smoke, looking at the hallway to see if it looked cloudy, saying curse words like F*** WHY DO WE NOT HAVE A SUPER?? By this time, I was pretty confident that there wasn’t a fire (but don’t follow my example because if any of you die while following my instructions, I will never forgive myself) and then I convinced myself that my neighbor must have died while cooking and now his dinner was burning in the pan.
Long story short, I eventually joined forces with another woman who ALSO heard the alarm. And we tracked down the apartment manager together. Meanwhile, my neighbor was alive and well at the grocery store. That bastard. I’m glad he isn’t dead.
Anyway, the smoke detector incident ruined the time I set aside to tell you all about That Golden Girls Show. And girl, I did my DUE DILIGENCE on this one. I sat in the audience and took notes on my playbill. But this put me at odds with my inner former theater student who did not want to be a rude audience member, but also I HAVE TO GIVE THE PEOPLE (YOU) THE DETAILS! And then I thought, “Will they see me taking notes in the show and think that I’m a critic?” The answer is probably not because I don’t think critics purchase second row seats in small theaters in Gramercy and then pay the extra money to have a photo taken with the cast and puppets after the show. I settled on taking notes over a Ralph Lauren ad for Bloomingdales during the blackouts.
Anyway, I also now cannot find my playbill, so I’ll keep this actual review brief. Michael Hull played Dorothy in pitch perfect sarcasm. But I’m a shit critic who loses her playbill, so unfortunately I can’t tell you the name of the understudy who played Sophia. She was delightful and adorable, though she didn’t quite nail the voice like the actress playing Blanche (omg it was PURRRRFECT). Cat Greenfield‘s Blanche sounded like Rue Mcclanahan’s voice reincarnated. I understand that is a creepy sentence, but honestly hearing what could have been Rue Mcclanahan’s vocal twin felt like a warm, reassuring hand reaching out to me from 1986 and saying, “hold on baby, there’s still hope in 2016.”
The show’s plot involves a get rich quick scheme, a circus of herrings, and more Stan than you may like. It’s a little light on the satire (until the end, which I will not spoil). But ultimately, that’s okay. You can tell the parody loves its source material, as all the best parodies do. The runtime is 90 minutes no intermission, though I felt like it could have been a tighter script if they did it in 60. However, the novelty of the puppets will keep you entertained during the script’s slower moments. It is certainly worth the ticket price for fans of the series, especially if you pay the extra cost for the photo. The cast was charming and the photo-op does elevate the experience. You’ll join them on the sofa for a family photo. The only way this could have been better is if they’d invited us out on the lanai afterwords. Act fast and you can make the photo your Christmas card.