Patti LuPone in Sweeney Todd -- a protracted squee, not a review

So last night I went to see Sweeney Todd. I wasn't positive I was going to like it, because I knew the staging was really minimalist and the actors were playing instruments -- conceits that I feel can sometimes get in the way of productions. But I knew I was going anyway, because hey, Patti LuPone.

I loved it, of course.

She was amazing, the male lead -- Michael Cerveris, who got a Tony for Assassins -- was amazing, and so were many supporting cast members. The Johanna, in particular, was the first one I've heard who can sing "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" without making me want to throw her out a window.

There were some changes I didn't love -- Pirelli as an airy mezzo, wtf? -- and sometimes the instruments really got in the way. But a longer review is forthcoming, and for now just know that adjfdsfhgagd, you need to see this if it's possible.

I was in shock for probably half the time, that PATTI LuPONE was ON THE STAGE in front of me. She exists! In the flesh!

It was over at 10:30, and I was just going to grab the subway home, when I happened to walk past a small exit marked "Stage Door." No fool, I decided to stick around for awhile -- just until 11, you understand -- with a few other people.

By 11, all of the supporting cast had left. Most of them were nice about autographs and pictures.* I avoided most autographs, but Michael Cerveris was buzzing straight down the line, and grabbed a pen and signed my program before I could blink. His signature is on the bio page, which is at least okay.

So it was 11, and everyone else had come out already. (Cerveris had gone back in; he'd come out just to do autographs and put his dog in his Escalade.) But Patti LuPone was still inside, and hadn't come out at all yet; her pimped-out Escalade and her bodyguard and assigned cop were still waiting at the curb. I decided to hang around until midnight.

At midnight, I wondered what could be taking so long. In a worst-case scenario, I gave half an hour to allow for notes, then two hours for another run-through with just the two leads. In that case, she'd leave at 1 AM. This logic brutally forced me to wait until 1 AM. Which I did.

By this time, there were only three other people -- two very nice, very gay Tischies and one girl who's probably me in ten years (this is not a compliment). We all were just hanging around and occasionally going "God, Sondheim" (them) or "God, Patti LuPone" (me).

At about 1:05, this tiny old auntlike lady swept out and made royal apologies and gave us all huge hugs and kisses. It was about five minutes before I figured out she was Patti LuPone.

She's majorly wigged for the show -- and onstage, she read as huge; she was definitely padded in at least five or six places. Her hips, however, are natural; in terms of wideness, they are H  I  P  S. But she's so short -- she's probably like 5'2" -- and her hair is gingery. And, even ignoring the hair, she really looks nothing at all like her headshots.

Anyone could easily walk by her on the street. The heartbreak is that I probably have.

But yeah, so she gave me a huge hug and kiss, and I told her how much I loved her performance that night -- the staging made it so different from her usual Mrs. Lovett, a part she's played about a thousand times -- and I told her I learned to belt from listening to Evita 24/7 over a course of a summer, and she was appropriately touched. And we talked for a minute or so, and the autograph was a complete anticlimax because ZOMG, PATTI LuPONE RECOGNIZED MY EXISTENCE.

When I got home (after hailing a cab perfectly), I looked at myself in the hall mirror. I looked perfectly composed: my shirt was not destroyed, my makeup was still complete, I looked poised and articulate. Amazingly enough, I feel that I may have made a good impression!

So, uh, this was definitely one of the high points of my life.

Also, Patti LuPone has a Nose; I have the nose.
Patti LuPone has H  I  P  S; I have H  I  P  S.
The deduction you should make here is pretty obvious, I find.

* Disclaimer: I have never understood the autograph scene. Even less do I understand the collecting of autographs. Or waiting to meet someone just because he/she's famous, even though you don't care about him/her. I just don't get it.



And now I'm going away until Tuesday.