Until Rachel Zoe, I had never witnessed someone having a true peak experience over clothes and accessories. Characterized by overwhelming joy, rapture, and oneness with the universe, peak experiences are the aha moments of life.
Lucky Guy is a tribute to the late Nora Ephron. The performers say at least 50 percent of their lines directly to the audience, so it becomes a case of telling rather than showing. I didn't find this to be a fault as much as a device that altered the theatrical form.
With no trajectory, it's an evening about people saying things -- words strung together to form an empty, silly, and meandering narrative. Nothing works. It's a musical with all the song cues and no tunes.
Don't go to Hands on a Hardbody, the new musical at the Brooks Atkinson imported from a critically praised run in California, expecting titillation (the hardbody is a red pickup truck) or a revelation in contemporary musical scoring.
This production misses the mark because it emphasizes the wrong sets of emotions. In a dark, noir-like setting, Holly gets wrapped up in the nightlife. Fred gets lost in the shuffle. But you never feel that either of them is comfortable in their own skin.
Training is just a game of finding a creature's motivation and then delivering it wisely. What makes cats notoriously difficult to train is the complexity of their reward systems. They're usually not as motivated by the two big things we use to train dogs: food and human attention.