broadway reach

  • Lin Manuel-Miranda: *reads a historical book and decides to turn it into a cutting edge revolutionary musical with a modern music style as well as star in the musical himself*
  • American Theatre Wing: omg he's amazing and this musical is the best wow all of the awards
  • Dave Malloy: *reads a historical book and decides to turn it into a cutting edge revolutionary musical combining modern and traditional styles of music and barely even has any spoken words in it and writes all of the music and orchestrations and stars in it himself and continuously makes changes and improvements for years for each new production of the show until it finally reaches broadway as the absolute best version of the show it can be*
  • American Theatre Wing: I can't read suddenly I don't know

Hmm… Well… This is a drawing I tried to do of @headoverhiddles ’s au where Lefou and Gaston are Roxie and Billy from Chicago. I tried three times, the first one was terrible, and those two, I tried. I wasn’t bothering much about Luke and Josh, maybe that’s why I don’t love it. Just didn’t know how to draw Gaston, his expressions and poses… Sorry for not being my best, again, but the au is amazing so I really wanted to try! (thank you for letting me draw (at least try to) this fantastic au!)


from p. 173-174 of the hamiltome:

Weidman answered Lin’s many questions at length. He took him to lunch for what Lin called “hummus and knowledge.” He shared technical insights derived from 40 years of facing precisely the challenge that Lin faced. He reassured Lin that it would be provocative – and significant – to reveal what a Founding Father had in common with somebody like Kanye West.

“By writing about Hamilton you’re really writing about America today,: he wrote after listening to a new Hamilton song in 2011. “In the end I guess I’m saying stay with this even when it seems opaque and impossible and drives you crazy.”

The result of Lin’s persistence gave Weidman hope. “If you’ve done this work for most of your life, and you care about it, to see something like this, which represent where a next-generation artist can take it, is bother thrilling and reassuring,” he says. When the show reached Broadway, New York magazine asked Lin to list the top influences on his creation. Weidman was number eight. “People in my life – not excluding my wife – consider this the pinnacle of my career,” Weidman says.

#3 on the influences list mentioned above: Tommy Kail’s mom

Guess who just saw dear evan hansen! (the ONE performance ben and laura both weren’t there (but it’s ok bc the understudies were amazing)) I love this show now and it made me very emotional, thank you very much


I reached 500 followers!! Starting now I will be doing newsies names all weekend! Send in asks describing yourself, what you look like, your hobbies, what you like to do, etc, and I will give you a newsies name! Also I will be accepting submissions of pictures of you and your newsies name (even better if you are in costume,) and after the weekend, I will make a big post, or two of all the pictures and names so we can see our newsie family! If you already have a newsie name, you can use that one if you want.

Originally posted by playbill


Lin-Manuel Miranda is the shit tho… read on:

“I begin with an apology.

I am the writer of Hamilton: An American Musical. Every word in the show—and there are over 22,000 words in the show—were chosen and put in a really specific order by me. So I am painfully aware that neither Philly nor the great state of Pennsylvania is mentioned in Hamilton, with the exception of ONE couplet in the song Hurricane, where Hamilton sings:




That’s it! One blink and you miss it Liberty Bell reference!


I am also painfully aware that this commencement address is being livestreamed and disseminated all over the world instantly. In fact, “painfully aware” is pretty much my default state. “Oh yeah, that’s Lin, he’s…PAINfully aware.”

So, with the eyes of the world and history on us all, I’d like to correct the record and point out that a few parts in Hamilton: An American the Musical actually took place in Pennsylvania.

The Battle of Monmouth, wherein General Charles Lee, in our show, “S’ed the Bed” and retreated against Washington’s orders. According to Lafayette, this was the only time he ever heard George Washington curse out loud. That’s right, the father of our country dropped his choicest profanity and F-bombs in Pennsylvania.

The Constitutional Convention, wherein Alexander Hamilton spoke extemporaneously for 6 hours in what is surely the most un-Tweet-able freestyle of all time, happened right here in Philly.

In fact, Alexander Hamilton lived at 79 South 3rd Street when he began his extramarital affair with Mariah Reynolds, creating the time-honored precedent of political sex scandals and mea culpas.

You guys, The Good Wife wouldn’t even EXIST if Hamilton hadn’t gotten the ball rolling on this dubious American tradition, right on South 3rd street, right near the Cosí.
Finally, I need to apologize on behalf of the historical Alexander Hamilton, because if he hadn’t sat down to dinner with James Madison and Thomas Jefferson, desperate for support for his financial plan, Philadelphia might well still be the U.S. Capitol.

Hamilton traded Philly away in the most significant backroom deal in American history. As the guy who plays Hamilton every night, let me get into character for a moment and say, “My bad, Philadelphia.” Thank you.

But take the long view, Motown Phillly. Who really won that deal in the end? Look at D.C: it’s synonymous with institutional dysfunction, partisan infighting and political gridlock. YOU are known as the birthplace of Louisa May Alcott, Rocky Balboa, Boyz II Men, Betsy Ross, Will Smith, Isaac Asimov, Tina Fey, Cheesesteaks, and you can have SCRAPPLE, SOFT PRETZELS, and Wawa HOAGIES WHENEVER YOU WANT.


The simple truth is this: Every story you choose to tell, by necessity, omits others from the larger narrative. One could write five totally different musicals from Hamilton’s eventful, singular American life, without ever overlapping incidents. For every detail I chose to dramatize, there are ten I left out. I include King George at the expense of Ben Franklin. I dramatize Angelica Schuyler’s intelligence and heart at the expense of Benedict Arnold’s betrayal. James Madison and Hamilton were friends and political allies, but their personal and political fallout occurs right on our act break, during intermission. My goal is to give you as much as an evening as musical entertainment can provide, and have you on your way at home slightly before Les Mis lets out next door.

This act of choosing—the stories we tell versus the stories we leave out—will reverberate across the rest of your life. Don’t believe me? Think about how you celebrated this senior week, and contrast that with the version you shared with the parents and grandparents sitting behind you.

Penn, don’t front. You’re a Playboy Magazine ranked Party school—you KNOW you did things this week that you’re never mentioning again. I know what you did this summer!
I’m going to tell you a story from my twenties today—a story I’ve never told in public before. I’ll tell you two stories actually. It’s my hope that it’ll be of use to you as you stare down the quarter life marker.

I am 20 years old, finishing my sophomore year at Wesleyan, and my girlfriend of four and a half years is home from her semester abroad. I cannot wait to see her again—she is my first love. I dread seeing her again—I’ve grown into my life without her. In her absence, with time and angst to spare, I have developed the first draft of my first full-length musical, an 80-minute one-act called In The Heights. I have also developed a blinding pain in my right shoulder, which I can’t seem to stop cracking. My girlfriend comes home. I am so happy to see her, even as my shoulder worsens. My mother takes me to a back specialist, ranked in New York Magazine, so you know he’s good.

He examines me, looks me dead in the eyes, and says, “There’s nothing wrong with your back. There will be if you keep cracking it, but what you have a nervous tic. Is there anything in your life that is causing you stress?” I burst into tears, in his office. He looks at me for a long time, as I’m crying, and get this—you’ll appreciate this Renee—he tells me the story of Giuseppe Verdi. A 19th century Italian composer of some note, who, in the space of a few short years, lost his wife and two young children to disease. He tells me that Verdi’s greatest works—Rigoletto, La Traviata—came not before, but after this season of Job, the darkest moments of his life. He looks me in the eyes and tells me, “You’re trying to avoid going through pain, or causing pain. I’m here to tell you that you’ll have to survive it if you want to be any kind of artist.”

I break up with my girlfriend that night.

I spend the summer in therapy. I tell a lot of stories I’ve never told before.

My father asks my mother, “What the hell kind of back doctor…Verdi? Really?”

I stop cracking my shoulder.

The story I had been telling myself—happy guy in a long-distance relationship with his high school sweetheart—was being physically rejected by my body via my shoulder. I’d never broken up with anyone before—in my head, I was a “good guy,” and “good guys” don’t break up with their significant others when one of them goes off to study abroad. I was trying to fit my life into a romantic narrative that was increasingly at odds with how I really felt. In retrospect, we both were.

What about her story? Well, it’s not mine to tell, but I can share this much: she began dating one of her good friends the following year of college. Fast-forward to present day: She is happily married to that same good friend, with two beautiful kids. In her story, I am not the angsty, shoulder-cracking tortured artist. I’m the obstacle in the way of the real love story. For you Office fans: They’re Jim and Pam, and I’m Roy.

Story #2: I am out of college, I am 23 years old, and Tommy Kail and I are meeting with a veteran theater producer. To pay rent I am a professional substitute teacher: at my old high school. Tommy is Audra McDonald’s assistant. Tommy is directing In The Heights, and with his genius brain in my corner, my 80-minute one-act is now two acts. This big deal theater producer has seen a reading we put on in the basement of The Drama Book Shop in mid-Manhattan, and he is giving us his thoughts. We hang on his every word, this is a big deal theater producer, and we are kids, desperate to get our show on. We are discussing the character of Nina Rosario, home from her first year at Stanford, the first in her family to go to college.

The big deal theater producer says:

“Now I know in your version Nina’s coming home with a secret from her parents: she’s lost her scholarship. The song is great, the actress is great. What I’m bumping up against, fellas, is that this doesn’t feel high STAKES enough. Scholarship? Big deal. What if she’s pregnant? What if her boyfriend at school hit her? What if she got caught with drugs? It doesn’t have to be any of those things, you’re the writer—but do you see what I’m getting at guys, a way to ramp up the stakes of your story?”

I resist the urge to crack my shoulder.

We get through the meeting and Tommy and I, again alone, look at each other. He knows what I’m going to say before I say it.


“I know.”

“Nina on drugs—“

“I was there.”

“But he wants to put our show up.”
Tommy looks at me.

“That’s not the story you want to tell and that’s not the show I want to direct. There are ways to raise the stakes that are not THAT. We’ll just keep working.”

If I could get in a time machine and watch any point in my life, it would be this moment. The moment where Tommy Kail looked at uncertain, frazzled me, desperate for a production and a life in this business, tempted, and said no for us. I keep subbing, he continues working for Audra, we keep working on In The Heights for five years until we find the right producers in Jill Furman and Kevin McCollum and Jeffrey Seller. Until Philly native Quiara Hudes becomes my co-writer and reframes our show around a community instead of a love triangle. Until Alex Lacamoire and Bill Sherman take my songs and made them come to life through their orchestrations. It will be another five years before Heights reaches Broadway, exactly as we intended it.

And then the good part: Nina’s story that we fought to tell, keeps coming back around in my life. It comes around in letters, or in the countless young men and women who find me on the subway or on college campuses and take my hand and say, “You don’t understand. I was the first in my family to go to college, when I felt out of place like I was drowning I listened to “Breathe,” Nina’s song, and it got me through.” And I think to myself as these strangers tell me their Nina stories, “I do understand. And that sounds pretty high stakes to me.”

I know that many of you made miracles happen to get to this day. I know that parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and family behind you made miracles happen to be here. I know because my family made miracles happen for me to be standing here talking to you, telling stories.

Your stories are essential. Don’t believe me?

In a year when politicians traffic in anti-immigrant rhetoric, there is also a Broadway musical reminding us that a broke, orphan immigrant from the West Indies built our financial system. A story that reminds us that since the beginning of the great unfinished symphony that is our American experiment, time and time again, immigrants get the job done.

My dear, terrified graduates—you are about to enter the most uncertain and thrilling period of your lives.

The stories you are about to live are the ones you will be telling your children and grandchildren and therapists.

They are the temp gigs and internships before you find your passion.

They are the cities you live in before the opportunity of a lifetime pops up halfway across the world.

They are the relationships in which you hang on for dear life even as your shoulder cracks in protest.

They are the times you say no to the good opportunities so you can say yes to the best opportunities.

They are what Verdi survived to bring us La Traviata.

They are the stories in which you figure out who you are.

There will be moments you remember and whole years you forget.

There will be times when you are Roy and times when you are Jim and Pam.

There will be blind alleys and one-night wonders and soul-crushing jobs and wake-up calls and crises of confidence and moments of transcendence when you are walking down the street and someone will thank you for telling your story because it resonated with their own.

I feel so honored to be a detail, a minor character in the story of your graduation day.

I feel so honored to bear witness to the beginning of your next chapter.

I’m painfully aware of what’s at stake.

I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

Thank you and congratulations to the Class of 2016.”

I need to get this out of my chest.

I’ve seen several tweets about the pair of shoes (shocking I know) that Darren wore at his “Welcome To Broadway” party and after Andrew Rannells’ tweet I’m pretty sure these tweets have been seen by somebody.

Some people (and to be called “person” you must have the ability to think and use your brain so I don’t know if this is the correct term to describe them) are calling Darren “disrespectful” or spoiled or other not so kind names because of the state of his soles (shocking I know). He’s ruining a pair of expensive shoes when the majority of people can’t even afford to look at them from outside the windows, the world suffers from hunger and the Ozone Hole will kill us all eventually.

I would like to underline the fact that they are shoes and it doesn’t matter if you are rich, poor, famous or not, in order to reach your destination YOU HAVE TO WALK. Unfortunately nobody has invented portable wings or flying carpets yet. And I know that it might be shocking but, when you walk, the soles of your shoes get ruined because they are in contact with the ground. 

This “Darren should take care of his expensive stuff” argument is pointless because if you see a close up of his shoes you can clearly see that the black leather (that is the part you usually take care of since it’s not in contact with the dirty ground) is perfectly smooth and shiny. There isn’t even a wrinkle.
I, myself, think that it’s nice to know that his soles are a little “ruined” or worn-out because it means that he has used them and worn them more than just once (and if you’ve paid attention you have already noticed that he has worn this exact pair of shoes for other events too) not only for this party. It means that he didn’t put on these shoes for one night just to throw them away the morning after. And if you follow Darren you also know that he’s famous in the fandom for being an outfit-repeater  (clothes and shoes).

If you own a pair of shoes in your life (expensive or not) and especially a pair of leather-soled shoes, you know that the soles get pretty ruined after a few steps and, if they are colored, the lacquer gets scratched pretty easily.

So, not that I needed to write an essay about this rather basic topic, you can be rich as you want but your soles will get dirty if you walk on them.

I don’t think calling Darren disrespectful, spoiled or other names is right, especially if this is your only evidence. We have never seen him throwing coins away, insulting people, burning banknotes or smashing his phone on the ground. He is a kind and respectful human being and OF THIS we sure have more than just a few evidences. He is rich and you have to accept and respect that. The fact that he’s rich and that he can buy all the pair of shoes or stuff he likes, however, doesn’t make him an evil, mean and selfish person in the least.

Just to attach material proofs to this unnecessary essay:

Look, Lea too

From the Product Care section on the Louboutin official website:

So, I’ve noticed recently that there’s a lot of disdain for Rent in the theatre community and I haven’t really been able to understand why until I saw How to Survive a Plague, The Normal Heart, and Larry Kramer in Love and Anger.  We have forgotten the historical context under which Rent was written.  Jonathan Larsen began developing the musical in 1989; right in the thick of the AIDS crisis.  George HW Bush was the recently inaugurated president and he was no better than his predecessor, Ronald Reagan, when it came to talking about and dealing with the AIDS crisis.  Mayor Ed Koch had only recently been ousted as Mayor of New York, but NYC landlords were still evicting HIV positive residents of the West Village.  Some landlords would even shut off the heat in the apartments of HIV positive (and frequently LGBTQ) tenants so that they would die faster.  And the majority of Americans were either fearful of infection or did not care. Either way, no one was talking about it.  No one was being educated.  

Jonathan Larsen was living in the thick of the West Village in the late 80′s/early 90′s, surrounded by struggling artists, addicts, and gay men and women.  He was living what we watch in How to Survive a Plague. Then, with remarkable insight and empathy, he transformed what he was seeing into a piece of theatre.  What’s more, it was a risky piece of theatre.  AIDS, homelessness, drug addiction, and homosexuality were not popular topics of conversation in 1989-1994, let alone entertainment.  But he did it anyway.  And its politics were hardly subtle.  When the show was produced, the casting was kept intentionally race neutral.  The original cast only included five white cast members out of a cast of about 20.  Touring productions of the show started almost immediately after the show began it’s Broadway run, expanding the reach of the show across the country and later, all over the world.

I saw Rent when I was in 5th grade (my parents don’t have a great concept of what’s appropriate for an 11 year old).  It was a transformative night in the theatre, but one that left me with a lot of questions.  My mom spent the car ride home from the theatre teaching me about the AIDS crisis and homophobia and drug addiction.  It was the first time I encountered Queer relationships in fiction and it was certainly the first time I’d seen a Queer couple of color in any kind of media where their love was treated with absolute dignity and respect.  Most importantly, it made me care: about AIDS, LGBTQA rights, the disease of addiction, and poverty.  It took issues that were completely foreign to me and made them personal and important.  That is what great political theatre can do. In my mind, that’s what all get theatre should strive to do.  

OT3 Scenes. Feel Free To Add More

Riley: What? They just noticed Farkle’s a little farkly?
Maya: I could have told them that.

Riley: Because he’s Farkle.
Maya: That’s who you are, no matter what anybody says.

Maya: Farkle, what are you talking about? You love Riley and me since the day we met. You married us.

Farkle: I’m loyal to both of you.

Farkle: Because I promise to love you both the same.

Riley: Let’s never settle for anyone less than Farkle.

Farkle: I’m not ruling the world with Bunny Farmer and Potato Head.

Maya: Yes,sir it is us. We hope that someday one of us will be lucky enough to become Mrs. Farkle Minkus and have a lot of baby Minkii.

Farkle: A good earth for our children.

Both: Our children.

Farkle: I want 11. Split ‘em up however you want.

Riley: How do you want…

Maya: You get 11

Farkle: That’s fine with me. You’re Riley. You’re Maya.

Riley: Your turtlenecks?

Farkle: Yeah, somebody said they make me weird.

Maya: You are weird.

Riley: She doesn’t mean that.

Maya: Sure, I do. He knows he is. He embraces it. But you already know that, Farkle. That’s what makes you unique.

Riley: (sighs) Farkle. Nobody in this school loves to learn more than you. Get back into the classroom where you belong. Nobody gets to crush your spirit.

Farkle: My spirit’s fine. I just don’t want to be me anymore.

Riley: Why? Because somebody said something about what you wear? Stupid reason. Stupid shirt. (tugs at Farkle’s shirt) Stupid, stupid, stupid shirt. It isn’t you.

Riley: (grabs Farkle by his shirt) Farkle, this isn’t you. This isn’t the Farkle I know. And I want to know why and I want to know now.

Farkle: He said I was the biggest nothing in this school.

Riley: What?

Farkle: He said I had no right to walk around acting all confident and pretending like people liked me. He said I had no right to have friends like you, because I was the biggest nothing in this school.

Riley: (hugs Farkle) Farkle, it’s not okay that somebody called you that.

Riley: Somebody told Farkle that he doesn’t deserve us as friends.

Maya: Who?

Farkle: It’s not important.

Maya: It’s the most important thing in the world. I’ll find him myself and I’d hate to be him when I do.

Farkle: I may not look so tough, and I don’t say yo,“ but I’m insane when it comes to these two, so what you’re gonna do is run down the platform screaming until you reach Broadway.

Farkle: I’m Canada. A little taken for granted, but… I’m always there for you.

Farkle: Yeah. Well, I can tell you why I’ve always loved you both. I can’t think of one of you without thinking of both of you. I withdraw my offer. I’d rather go alone than hurt my two best friends. That’s my choice.

Maya: I’m just here to pick up the pieces.

Farkle: I’m here because I believe in Riley.

Farkle: As much as always.

Maya: Guys, you know how this ends. How could we let it get this far?

Maya: Yes, I know my best friend, and I don’t want my best friend to get hurt.

Farkle: Well, Maya, she’s always there for us. It’s our turn now.

Maya: You’re right. I know you’re right. I just… I don’t want her to fail.

Farkle: And if she does, you’ll be the first person she wants to put an arm around her.

Maya: Okay, I’m not going anywhere.

Riley: (to Maya) This will be done when you treat me like an ordinary person who nobody notices.

Maya: You’re not. You’re a sweet, weird little goofball and I love you just the way you are. Deal with it.

Farkle: This is like when I always used to wear my turtlenecks and then there was somebody that didn’t like that I… (realizes) Oh, my Gosh.

Maya: What?

Maya: What’s going on?

Farkle: Of course she loves Rileytown. Of course she’s weird and goofy and unique. That’s what we all love about her.

Maya: So what’s the problem?

Farkle:Somebody doesn’t.

Maya: What?

Farkle: Riley doesn’t want to be her because she feels like a nothing. Because a bully makes you feel like a nothing. A bully took something I liked about myself and made me feel bad about it.

Maya: But why would she think I would ever do that? I’m her best friend. Why is she yelling at me?

Farkle: Because I think she’s trying to get you to hear her.

Maya: Hear what? Why does she keep talking about a bully if she knows I’m not– (realizes) What? Oh, no.

Farkle: (enters) Riley, you wouldn’t let me keep this kind of stuff to myself. You think we’re gonna let you?

Riley: Okay. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I just didn’t want to put this on you.

Farkle: We’re friends. We can figure out anything.

Maya: Or how Farkle comes in through the window all our lives and says, “ladies!” I don’t want that to ever change.

Farkle: (Comes in through the window and sits on the window ledge with Maya and Riley) Hey.

Maya: Why do things change, Farkle?

Farkle: Because things grow. (to both Maya and Riley) Did you know that every seven years, your body grows a whole new set of cells? Every seven years, it’s like you’re a whole new person.

Riley: Mr. Norton taught us that in Science.

Maya: Yeah? Well, I’m exactly the same as I was when I was seven, and I’ll be exactly the same when I’m- (to Farkle) Do it.

Farkle: 21. See, the difference between you at seven and now is that at seven, you just met me, and now, you’ve learned to use me.

Maya: I know a good thing when I see it. You’ve been growing ever since we met.

Riley: (to Farkle) Yeah. Farkle, I hope we can say that you’ve grown into a handsome young man without embarrassing you.

Farkle: Uh no, you can’t.

Maya: (To Riley) Look at him, Riles. Remember the little boy he was? Remember the first day we met him?

Riley: Hmph. Do I remember? He saved my life, Maya. He saved my life twice, and you didn’t even save it once.

Maya: You have to wift your head, Wiwey.

Riley: What matters is us, Farkle. We don’t leave.

Riley: Yeah. (makes a sad face and sobs) I hope that Farkle remembers that science can’t explain people and he keeps himself open to love.

Farkle: I would never leave my friends behind.

Farkle: You guys are my best friends. Promise me one thing, never let me not understand love.“

Farkle: Will you guys still be my friends?

Maya: You know for someone who wants to take over the world, you sure ask a lot of dum dum questions.

Farkle: I'vebeen in love with Riley since the first grade. But I’m also equally in love with Maya. Some might say the great mystery of the universe is who’s gonna be the first Mrs. Farkle. Riley is the sun, warm and bright and lights up my whole day. Maya is the night, dark and mysterious. And the night has always been a mystery to me.

Farkle: My education or my women.

This week on the music charts, Drake rules once again while the “Hamilton” album rides its Tony Award victories to a new high.

Drake’s “Views” (Young Money/Cash Money/Republic) had just 27,000 album sales in the United States last week, but its 110 million streams were far ahead of those for any other record, according to data from Nielsen. “Views” stays at No. 1 for a seventh week, tying the most recent run by Adele’s “25” in late 2015 and early 2016. (Among other long stretches at No. 1 recently, the “Frozen” soundtrack notched eight consecutive straight weeks in 2014, and Adele’s “21” had 10 in a row two years before.)

Nick Jonas’s latest solo album, “Last Year Was Complicated” (Island), opened at No. 2, while the cast recording for “Hamilton” (Atlantic) rises 10 spots to a peak of No. 3. According to Billboard, “Hamilton” has become one of only three Broadway cast recordings to reach the Top 10 in the last 50 years, and is the highest-charting such album in five years, since “The Book of Mormon” also hit No. 3. On June 12, “Hamilton” won 11 Tony Awards, including best musical.

anonymous asked:

what do you think about a very potter musical?

Y’know, I love musical theatre more than pretty much anything but AVPM was never something I could get into past “Back to Hogwarts”. I appreciate the effort that went into all 3 of them, though! Now if someone would just exert that same amount of effort into creating a HP musical for Broadway so I can reach my final form, that’d be great. 


I could have an avpm quoting battle with anyone tbh… which i would only win on the draco malfoy part tbh

Originally posted by onebigfandomfamily


A Few--Three--Ideas about Glee 5x18

Thoughts on three things from last night: 

  • Namedropping
  • Mentors, true and false
  • Magical thinking


What about all the name dropping last night? I caught more than 20 examples:

  1. The ICA agent played by Richard Kind mentioned Topol, the Yiddish actor who won an Oscar for his portrayal of Tevye in Fiddler in 1971. (I think he might have originated the role on Broadway as well.)
  2. Kurt, when he first talks about June Dolloway, mentions Helmut Newton, a famous fashion photog of the 1960s, well known for his eroticized photos).
  3. Kurt also mentions that June Dolloway took peyote with Joe Kennedy. (Guess this refers to Joe Kennedy III, but these are both echoes of Shirley’s real life–she definitely hung with Jack Kennedy.)
  4. The Fox exec mentions the play he wanted to go see, and I couldn’t catch the actor’s name…DID ANYONE ELSE?

Keep reading