For the past ten years I have been hosting a cable television show, The Drexel InterView, widely distributed throughout local PBS and community-access...
It's a play that grabs you by the throat, makes you laugh and cry, holds you transfixed for two hours, paralyzes you with excitement from start to finish, and leaves you cheering. I can think of no stronger motivation for getting off your duff and into the traffic to get an exclusive glimpse of what the theater is like when plays percolate and sizzle and hold your heart captive at the same time.
I was glad to hear that Ephron left behind a new play called Lucky Guy, which opened this week in New York. And I was even more fascinated to hear that it's about Mike McAlary, the late columnist for the New York Daily News. It meant that we would have had at least one thing to talk about.
I just loved Lucky Guy. It's almost like a musical, it is so brash, so real, so true, so vulgar, so fast, so recognizable. Like Nora Ephron.
The mood at the Broadhurst Theater and at Gotham Hall for Lucky Guy's opening night on Monday was bittersweet exuberance.
Nora Ephron's last play, "Lucky Guy," would probably have been a hit even without Tom Hanks in the lead. Nevertheless, the thrill of sharing oxygen wi...
This coming weekend, a new play by the late Nora Ephron will open on Broadway. Lucky Guy, starring two-time Oscar winner, Tom Hanks.
Speaking of back to Broadway -- Bette Midler is coming. I've been waiting for years, and now she is coming. Midler is starring in one of three one-woman shows on the Great White Way this season.
Sheryl Sandberg's book Lean-In hits bookstores this week, promising women the wisdom to command more authority and success in the workplace. I'm intrigued.
At B. B. King's on Sunday night, at the Writers Guild of America Award ceremony, amidst a lot of foul-mouthed laughs and sober-minded speeches, writer/director Nora Ephron was remembered.
We are a society of over-communicators. We text while we paint our toenails, we tweet while we're getting frisky. We feel a sense of rising panic if we haven't responded to someone in 24 hours. I'm nostalgic for my old black cord phone and I'm working on a healthier balance.
Yes, in our youth-obsessed culture, I am admittedly one of the obsessed. I pull the skin back on my face when I look in the mirror to get a glimpse of my former youthful self (and when I release it, I lament the time I spent that summer on Nantucket with no sunscreen).
Am I so naive as to think that married men -- including my own husband -- do not harbor these thoughts?
What a year this has been, filled with drama and noise, Much ado about lots -- those Republican boys. Remember them -- Santorum, Cain, Perry, the rest? Romney, finally their choice -- still, Obama did best.
In reflecting on all the people who passed away this year, I am thinking of Nora Ephron and how this witty, wise and loving woman taught us not only how to live but also how to die.
I agree with Delia Ephron; there is nothing like a good blow dry or a fabulous haircut or a perfect set of highlights to cheer me up when I'm down.