Tag Archives: sexy Brits

Smash 1.8 – The Coup

Sam and Ivy wonder if, post unseasonably warm workshop, the show is dead. They’re both determined to be stiff-upper-lippy for each other, though. Cut to Julia, who has no need lie to herself or others, taking to her bed and moaning that the show is dead. Frank assures her that it was just a first step; it’s a long, long way to Broadway! He fires up the Xbox and strums some “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” Ugh, Frank, really? Even infidelity doesn’t deserve the Cocktail soundtrack. Besides, it’s Rock Band – Floyd’s “The Show Must Go On” would have earned you more points. Continue reading

Smash 1.7 – The Workshop

Michael and Julia meet on the street outside the rehearsal hall and share a heavily laden look as they clasp hands. New York may be a city where you can get lost in the faceless masses, but not so much right outside the place where you work. Derek and Eileen walk up and Julia and Michael quickly pretend to be debating the merits of going off script. Continue reading

Smash 1.6 – Chemistry

Ivy primps in front of her mirror and does a breathy run through of “Let Me Be Your Star” before her voice cracks. Derek, asleep in the bed behind her, harkens at the first sound of pitchiness. Ivy assures Derek she’s fine and they snuggle.

At the rehearsal hall, Julia attempts to rearrange scenes like a harried florist with a particularly recalcitrant Rhododendron.  Derek harrumphs that it’s a musical, dammit, not a high school science project (which is a good thing; I don’t think Julia could even get a Chia pet to sprout at this point) and Julia counters that it’s a workshop, and a first workshop at that. Derek is baffled at Julia’s naiveté and points out that it’s a workshop investors are coming to see, and there’s no discernible story for 25 pages. (I, myself, would have called that a teen-baiting homage to Twilight, but something tells me Derek’s not a fan.) Continue reading

Smash 1.5 – Let’s Be Bad

Eileen calls her assistant to go over her calendar and finds out that he now works for Jerry. Yeah, that’s beyond awkward. Jerry’s grabbing at anything he can take from her – soon she’ll have nothing left but her knock-off Marilyn earrings and a Degas she’ll have to go Nick Jonas’s apartment to see.  Continue reading

Smash 1.4 – The Cost of Art

Karen makes an awe-eyed, 360-angle entrance to the rehearsal hall for her first real, live Broadway workshop. To paraphrase Pulp Fiction, some workshops get produced and become off-Broadway shows. Some don’t, and become nothing. Hopefully Karen isn’t performing in one of the ones that become nothing. The ensemble chorus/dancers eye-roll and tongue-cluck over Karen’s “All-County Craft Fair and Gun Show Queen” resume – apparently “State Fair” is only de rigueur during a Rodgers & Hammerstein showcase. Michael is excited, too, and tells Julia he thinks things are going to be fine and she’s quick to agree that yes, they’re both adults and can be cool about this. A musical beat, and then Michael tells her he meant the workshop. Burn. Julia blinks rapidly and deflects that with enough “great, great, SO great” that she’s only a bad perm and a gay best friend (oh, wait) away from vintage Grace Adler.   Continue reading

Smash 1.3 – Enter Mr. DiMaggio

The cold open is anything but as Derek choreographs Ivy in some horizontal mambo (that’s right – I said mattress dancin’!). Well, he’s detail oriented; he’s only checking her lung capacity. Ivy sings his scales – so to speak, I’m sure there was all manner of humming and lip rolls and tongue trills involved – but when she wants to get together sometime and watch Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, or maybe have Derek listen to her read passages aloud from Legend: Marilyn Monroe or even just sit and stare wistfully at that Boulevard of Broken Dreams print, Derek reveals himself to be anything but a gentleman as he smirks and says that he considers their continuing romps between the sheets Marilyn 101. Oh, Ivy, you’ve been reading the essential Marilyn: you should have known [Broadway] is a place where they’ll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul. Continue reading