the danish girl has a new baiting gig on 52nd street
'happy pride month' the terf-cademy screlted
Alas, meinen faggots, the danish girl is here to terrorize us once again.
Filling the shoes of Joel Grey and Barry Dennen’s iconic character is our local sleep paralysis demon. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, the boomer fag hag’s wet dream; Tom Hooper and JK Rowlings play thing… Joanne and Tom let their puppet out on loan, god forbid any of the New York trans teach him how to actually pass.
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Well it seems Eddie really does have a secret of the Dumbledore variety, one he is keeping close to his chest, presumably for career reasons, since his only appeal is to the middle aged American straight woman who stream exclusively Seth Rudetsky. Alan Cumming, Joel Grey and Barry Dennen are/were all open homosexuals.
So in that way this performance at the 77th Tony Awards was a treasure trove of ghastliness, stepping unintentionally backward in time/progress.
The danish girl has been so over directed in this role you can see the fear trembling in her limbs.They are barely her own; every gesture, every glance of the eyes, and every bowel movement are carefully planned by her corporate overlords, bringing this six flags style production to broadway for the fourth time in the last 37 years.
The singing: sounds like there’s a spoon shoved down her throat, and she’s out of breath?
I’ll submit myself to scientific reenactment. Here’s a clip of me with an actual spoon down my throat, after a 30 second sprint.
Pretty similar? High replicability?
I get it, she’s referencing Joel Grey. Well she shouldn’t try, it has none of the stylized precision of Grey’s unearthliness. She should learn how to actually sing… the Tony Awards, as far as I’m aware, do not have a Best ASMRtist category (yet).
The costuming: they gave la Ganja Estranja 30 minutes in a pride-month Target.
The arrangement: no dance break, as is standard, and what is supposed to be a final molto ritardando which opens up into a spacious sound vaccuum, eerie and also grand, is scrapped, for an insultingly optimistic 2014 Newsies revival ending.
The choreography: could have been worse, somehow completely unsexy, lacking risks. None of the usual dangerous groping, or displays of crudity. Fosse was put to shame in the usual manner of our revivalist culture: don’t touch something thats nearly perfect.
Cabaret is a show about sexual freedom, a universe in which a gay man can actually be sexually free enough to love a woman in a way that doesn't feel homophobic, but radically futuristic.
This presentation is devoid of that freedom, from its danish girl emcee down to the glitter mustached chorister whom I’m sure is a masc-presenting-assigned-male-at-birth-non-binary-for-clout fame chaser. The only potential sexual chemistry this ensemble displays with the danish girl falls under the kink category; as they’re all brown nosing her every flatulence.
A few other points from the awards:
Jonathon Groff won his first. I have to say, it’s sweet, deserved in a way. What WE do not deserve is this ear-bleeding speech-singing which Sondheim would have walked out on.
If you were in need of cheese, you’ll be happy to hear you won’t need to leave your house today. Lindsey has a serial killer look about her enthusiasm.
Daniel won best neck tension in a live performance. Brava.
The Outsiders won best industry plant in a failing genre. Sean Mendes stars in a pirated version of West Side Story.
The 77th Tony Awards were beautifully terrible, however, predictably so. It’s too early to say if this made for tv circle jerk livestream is indeed the worst piece of art ever made.
For now I give it 8 kill myselfs out of 10.
Until next time, happy TERF season!
Y2k Diogenes