Recent Backstage Reviews

Blue Coyote's Happy Endings
February 15, 2008
By Christopher Murray

Blue Coyote Theater Group asked nine playwrights "for their take on the sex-worker industry." The entertaining result, Blue Coyote's Happy Endings, presents nine short pieces of great variety, all of which in some measure wittily explore questions of how we see each other in the context of our desires.

A tatty red velvet curtain frames the performing space for a succession of vignettes featuring go-go boys, peep show habitués, lonely hearts, and lovers. Theatrical serial Burning Habits author Blair Fell's piece, Beauty, begins the evening with a voyeur in a black raincoat (David Johnson) waxing eloquent on the charms of an exotic dancer (Joe Curnutte).

The usual dynamic of the watcher and watched is flipped, however, in Christine Whitley's strangely tender and moving Peep Show, in which a woman (a beautifully vulnerable Laura Desmond) pays for the privilege to be ogled and objectified by a brusque but oddly tender man (Robert Buckwalter).

Various kinks that help people grow closer to or stay distant from their erotic fascination are explored in John Yearley's Whenever You're Ready, about an artist's nude model (Tracey Gilbert), and in Matthew Freeman's The White Swallow, about a radio announcer-voiced husband (Matthew Trumbull) with a strange predilection picked up from watching snakes swallow their prey on Wild Kingdom.

But the most successful pieces, appearing last in the evening, poke gentle fun at our yearning for connection. Boo Killebrew's winsome Pulling Teeth imagines a suburban coffee klatch at which a fey Easter Bunny (the talented comedian Phillip Taratula) tries to convince his pal the Tooth Fairy (R. Jane Casserly) to stop turning tricks to earn money and assuage her loneliness. In David Johnston's Yes Yes Yes, a nerdy reader of James Joyce (Jim Ireland) finds surprising shared interests with a literate go-go boy (again, tow-headed Joe Curnutte, providing pitch-perfect irony in his portrayal).

Presented by Blue Coyote Theater Group and Access Theater at Access Theater, 380 Broadway, 4th floor, NYC. Feb. 12-March 1. Tue., 9 p.m.; Wed.-Sat.., 8 p.m. (212) 868-4444 or www.smarttix.com.


The Wild Party
February 12, 2008
By Christopher Murray

"Queenie was a blonde/And if looks could kill/She'd kill twice a day/In vaudeville." So begins the opening song in Andrew Lippa's musical version of the literally banned in Boston 1928 poem by Joseph Moncure March.

The jazzy, sung-through score concerns a crisis in the troubled relationship of Queenie (a platinum blond-wigged Nicole Sterling) and her comedian boyfriend Burrs (the cherry-cheeked Jonathan Hack). Queenie has decided that "I'll raise my skirt and make him hurt" by publicly humiliating Burrs when they throw a bathtub-gin party for all their eccentric friends, including a love-weary lesbian (the delightful Tauren Hagans), a pugilist and his moll (Theis Weckesser and K.C. Leiber), and two flamboyant piano-playing brothers (Justin Birdsong and Zak Edwards). Things get violent when Queenie's attentions are caught for real after their friend Kate (Julia Cardia) brings a dapper newcomer, Mr. Black (Michael Jones), to the wild party.

The Gallery Players revival of this 2000 Off-Broadway musical (not to be confused with George C. Wolfe and Michael John LaChuisa's Broadway version from the same season) features what has become standard for this group, a distinct and committed ensemble cast that seems to be having a terrific time. The leads are the workhorses in this piece, driving the slight plot forward while the mayhem swirls around them.

The company's vocal talents aren't quite up to the demanding score, but their enthusiasm in evoking a cartoon of Roaring '20s debauchery is infectious, especially in Summer Lee Jack's sexy and stylish if somewhat overaccessorized period costumes. Director Neal J. Freeman and choreographer Brian Swasey provide clarity, a sense of mischief, and clockwork precision in moving the 18-member cast around a postage stamp-sized stage.

Presented by and at the Gallery Players, 199 14th St., Brooklyn, NYC. Feb. 2-24. Thu. and Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 and 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m. (212) 352-3101 or (866) 811-4111 or www.theatermania.com or wwwgalleryplayers.com.

Recent Backstage Reviews

War
February 11, 2008
By Christopher Murray
Rattlestick Playwrights Theater's powerful American premiere production of acclaimed Swedish playwright Lars Norén's War, sensitively directed by the capable Anders Cato, explores the impact of ethnic cleansing on an individual family in an unnamed conflict. Nontraditional casting of a multiethnic company increases the resonance of the portrait as a global parable of destruction.

With her husband presumed dead, a mother and two daughters have done what is necessary to survive as the fabric of life has unwound around them. Suffering the horrors of poverty, hunger, rape, and torture, they live in a delicately balanced unit, alternating between indulging in fantasies of romance and leaking excoriation and despair that reveal how the violence of war seeps remorselessly into the domestic sphere.

At one moment, the daughters, Beenina (Ngozi Anyanwu) and Semira (Flora Diaz), can be playing like children, full of giggles and shared secrets; the next they are threatening each other in language of startling brutality. "Remember, she's a child," the mother (Rosalyn Coleman) cautions, to which Beenina chillingly replies, "There are no children here."

The family's fragile stability, with Beenina prostituting herself for money to keep food on the table and her mother keeping her soul alive through the companionship of her missing husband's brother (Alok Tewari), threatens to fall apart when the father (Laith Nakli) returns, disabled and embittered by his time in a forced labor camp.

Nakli gives a devastating performance as a haunted yet still furiously hopeful man who doesn't realize that his family has already been destroyed. The other four actors are equally excellent in this intermissionless 90-minute play that can seem relentless in its depiction of the collision between the quotidian poetry of family life and the horrors of war. The characters' faces seem drained of emotion, as if exhaustion and hopelessness have blunted their ability to express the tumultuous feelings inside them.


Presented by and at Rattlestick Playwrights Theater,
224 Waverly Place, NYC.
Feb. 11-March 2. Tue.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.

Under Milk Wood
January 28, 2008
By Christopher Murray
"From where you are you can see their dreams," recites one of the two narrators in Dylan Thomas' lyric paean to small-town life. Originally created as a radio play and performed at the 92nd Street Y two months before his death in 1953, Under Milk Wood is a loving evocation of a fictional small Welsh town called Llareggub, which is "bugger all" spelled backwards.

Following the reminiscences, daydreams, and petty foibles that make up the "salty individuality" of the town's characters, the piece begins before dawn one day and has the flavor of Our Town in its gentle humor. Captain Cat (John Mervini) falls into reveries about his seafaring days; Mrs. Ogmore-Pritchard (Amanda Kay Schill), twice widowed, doesn't let death stop her from bossing around the spirits of her two husbands; and Reverend Eli Jenkins (Owen Panettieri) recites his original poems to the rising and setting sun.

The narrators (Lyle Blaker and Elizabeth Bove) move among the townspeople reading the lyrical language that binds the piece. In Intimation Theatre Company's production, directed by Michelle Dean, the absence of Welsh accents flattens the poetry. The actors, each playing several of the townspeople, rely instead on funny voices and silly walks to draw out the humor. Despite their obvious affection for the humanist portraits, the company members lack the ability to get under the skins of the various townsfolk, and the result is caricature.

Presented by Intimation Theatre Company at Theater 3, 311 W. 43rd St., 3rd floor, NYC. Jan. 25-Feb. 10. Wed.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.

Save the World
January 22, 2008
By Christopher Murray
Accurately described in press materials as "a superhero adventure play," Save the World by Marvel comic-book author and playwright Chris Kipiniak is slavishly loyal to its genre, following the crackup of a self-appointed cadre of heroes called the Protectorate and replete with nifty electronic sound effects.

Formed in response to an extraterrestrial threat to the city of Denver (shown in flashbacks), the group finds itself in danger of self-destruction, plagued by betrayals, petty squabbles, and character flaws that match its superpowers in magnitude. A series of attacks on international cities proves to be a setup to eliminate the group's leader and deliver a fatal blow to the team's hubris in appointing themselves overseers of Jerusalem and the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

Irony is not entirely absent in the comic-book universe, nor is it in Save the World. Musing on the potential of a coordinated attack, the group's administrator, Stagger (the mannered but likable Stephen Bel Davies in a candy-apple-red suit), says, "Great. That means a super villain. Of all the days. I better put on a pot of coffee."

But the theatre is perhaps less well-suited to a literal translation of the superhero sensibility than the movies. The intricate but still somehow mundane backstories and gee-whiz intensity of the characters is wearying and instigated some titters in the audience. That being said, the company makes its way through the plot's machinations and manipulates the silly plastic prop weapons without winking and with considerable energy. Kelli Hutchinson stands out in dual roles as a disaffected member of the team and a cynical television reporter.

Ultimately, this study of the breakdown of a team hews too closely to the conventions of the comic-book form even as its ultimate resolution hints at dissatisfaction with any artificially superimposed ethos.

Presented by the Roundtable Ensemble at the American Theatre of Actors, 314 W. 54th St., NYC. Jan. 19-Feb. 9. Thu. and Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 3 and 8 p.m.

Havana Pics

1. Capitalo
2. Airles Perez and me
3. Me with the old Presidential Palace, now the Museum of Bella Artes in the background
4. Nice building in Vedado, the neighborhood I stayed in
5. Me in front of a cool car in Guanabo, a little beach town east of Havana
6. Airles and Jamie Rauchman, the artist and documentarian

Recent Backstage Reviews

Pinocchio
January 14, 2008
By Christopher Murray

In its United States premiere, Italy's Teatro Del Carretto brings a revelatory theatricality to the tale of an innocent beset by scoundrels who survives by dint of his capacity for whimsy and wonder.

Never mind that the production is entirely in Italian. Carlo Collodi's fable of a puppet turned into a boy and then turned out into a terrifying world is the stuff of mythology, and director Maria Grazia Cipriani creates a unique and somehow familiar dream world of great intensity and beauty with the help of inspired scene and costume designer Graziano Gregori. On a half-circle stage, a small troupe of commedia dell'arte performers in black, white, and red costumes and masks use simple, repetitive, almost palsied movements to convey not only specifics of character but also the impact of surviving through traumatic experiences.

Giandomenico Cupaiuolo, who almost never leaves the stage during the 75-minute piece, presents Pinocchio as a classic clown in a tour de force physical performance. He mewls and cowers before his tormentors at one moment and then the very next is playing with abandon and glee, his skinny legs splayed out at crazy angles. He brays when turned into a donkey under the whip; tumbles out torrents of excited words to his protector, the Blue Fairy (or Fata, as she is known in Italian, played by Elsa Bossi); and puffs with exasperation in a wonderful Chaplinesque scene in which he is caught between two tasks: polishing shoes and delivering glasses of milk to his offstage father.

What makes this production so amazing is the expert use of ancient theatrical tools such as color, gesture, lighting, and sound. For many audiences, the performances of Cirque du Soleil are perhaps their only exposure to a heightened theatricality of undeniably great emotional power. Pinocchio brilliantly presents such techniques in the service of an exploration of what it means to be fully human and of the mystifying impact of swinging from one adventure and mood state to another with dizzying if often exhilarating speed.

Presented by Watson Arts and La MaMa E.T.C.
at La MaMa E.T.C., 74A E. Fourth St., NYC.
Jan. 13-27. Thu.-Sun., 7:30 p.m.
(212) 352-3101 or (866) 811-4111 or www.theatermania.com or www.lamama.org.


Journey to the End of the Night
January 14, 2008
By Christopher Murray

Director Joshua Carlebach and adaptor Jason Lindner have ably transformed the best-known novel and life story of controversial mid-20th-century existential writer Louis-Ferdinand Céline into a compelling one-person show featuring the talented actor Richard Crawford. This idiosyncratic and often lyrical monologue, spoken from behind a book-cluttered desk, alternates between the deceptively chatty reminisces and recriminations of Céline and the tall tales of the writer's anti-hero, Ferdinand Bardamu.

At once a timely warning of the constrictions of knee-jerk political correctness and an exploration of the dangers of distorting personal or cultural histories, Journey to the End of the Night makes good use of first-rate work from set designer Anna Kiraly and lighting designer Anjeanette Stokes. Laurels, though, go to Zach Williamson for a brilliant soundscape that begins with scratchy emanations from speakers around the audience and includes evocations of atmosphere such as a bicycle bell or the sound of bedsprings straining under the weight of bodies pressed together in sex.

Crawford, all tweedy joviality and bushy eyebrows, is wonderful as Céline as he chortles and leers in a plummy British accent, cracking dirty jokes and working up to rehearsals of his pet prejudices and standard apologies for his presumed anti-Semitism during World War II. The detail and intelligence of the swirling worlds created around the seated actor allow Crawford to fully and confidently embody the convoluted contradictions of a man who likely was both a self-deluded cad who blamed others for his limitations and a writer who understood the essential self-interest of humankind that often leads us to behave as if we were vermin.

Presented by the Flying Machine Theater
at the Gene Frankel Theater, 24 Bond St., NYC.
Jan. 13-26. Tue.-Thu., 7:30 p.m.; Fri. and Sat., 7:30 and 10 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. (No performance Tue., Jan. 15.)
(212) 352-3101 or 866 811-4111 or www.theatermania.com.

Recent Backstage Reviews

Black Nativity

December 03, 2007

By Christopher Murray

The Classical Theatre of Harlem's new adaptation of Langston Hughes' 1961 gospel version of the birth of Jesus Christ imagines what it would be like if Mary gave birth in the middle of Times Square in the sordid days of the early 1970s. And that's a pretty good conceit. But a better one is, What if the adult Jesus Christ had the strut and flash and twinkle of Broadway's veteran showman André De Shields? Now there's a theological question worth pondering.

Decked out in a blood-red suit with black-and-white calfskin high-heeled pointy-toed shoes, DeShields as the Narrator/Pastor locks the audience in his mesmeric gaze and doesn't let go for the 90-minute breakneck revue of songs that follows. He's a crowing rooster delightfully full of both himself and the spirit of the Lord as he plays pater familias in this exciting and often moving holiday presentation.

That's not to say that the ensemble isn't rocking as well — they are. There is ample showcasing of some wonderful young vocal talent, including in particular the angel-faced and -voiced Melvin Bell III and a dulcet Nikki Stephenson. The tiny members of Nairobi's Shangilla Youth Choir make up in cute for what they forgivably lack in pitch.

The production is a feast for the eyes as well as the ears; costume designer Kimberly Glennon must be the hardest-working member of her profession this season, decking out the ensemble in a cornucopia of fantastically colorful '70s outfits made of what the three wise men probably would have brought in 1973: upholstery, spandex, and polyester. The wigs and platform shoes deserve to be credited as full members of the cast.

But ultimately it's De Shields' world; the Heavenly Host is just allowed to share it with him. After playing Caligula and Lear for CTH, De Shields cements his fruitful collaboration with the company, sharing with it a muscular, intelligent, and fearsomely entertaining sensibility.

Presented by the New 42nd Street at the Duke on 42nd Street, 229 W. 42nd St., NYC.Nov 30-Dec.30. Tue.-Fri., 7:30 p.m.; Sat., 2 and 7:30 p.m.; Sun., 1 and 6 p.m.(646) 223-3010 or http://www.dukeon42.org/.

A Christmas Carol

December 03, 2007

By Christopher Murray

Vortex Theater Company rounds out its ambitious 2007 season having explored the ghost of musicals past (H.M.S. Pinafore), musicals present (Kiss of the Spider Woman), and now a vision of the kind of musicals yet to come with director Kris Thor and composer Joel Bravo's intense and satisfying new version of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.

Set in North Carolina during a holiday heat wave, this collaboratively created Carol re-imagines Scrooge as an ethically challenged environmental entrepreneur of the Bill Gates ilk. As played by downtown music-scene icon Jason Trachtenburg, Scrooge is an über-nerd cipher, his flat delivery and ironic sangfroid enough to bring a chill to the humid Southern air.

Richly layered scenic elements, including Super 8 home movies screened by the ghost of Christmas past (here called the Archivist and played by a cheery Kelly Eubanks), surround the audience, as does the cast before the show starts. The hipster vibe sometimes verges on preciousness when the company seems a wee bit full of in jokes and uncommunicated backstory.

The gist of the updating, however, is that Scrooge lost his love, Belle (Tracy Weller), to his mentor Jacob Marley (Joe Ornstein) and now returns home on the occasion of the mysterious sickness of the Carolina ash tree he planted in memory of his mother.

"People don't change; they tend to stay the same. That's just the way we work," states one of the lyrics to the haunting and catchy guitar-based songs. The music subtly captures the thematic concern of the piece: If we rush through life consumed with ambition and work, do we forget to have regrets?

Trachtenburg leads an intelligent and charming company of actors and musicians working in true ensemble fashion in a complex and thought-provoking show that harnesses some of the philosophical wistfulness many find in the holiday season.

Presented by Vortex Theater Company at the Sanford Meisner Theater, 164 11th Ave., NYC.Nov. 29-Dec. 22. Thu.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 5 p.m. (No performances Sat., Dec. 8, and Sun., Dec. 9; additional performance Mon., Dec. 17, 8 p.m.)(212) 352-3101 or (866) 811-4111 or http://www.theatermania.com/.

The Sordid Perils of Actual Existence

December 03, 2007

By Christopher Murray

"I'm finally ready to take the next step," declares the young man. Marriage? Nope, bigger: real estate. David (co-playwright Andy Reynolds) is looking for a little emotional support from his real estate agent, Carla (Crystal Field, Theater for the New City's founder and doyenne). She's happy to oblige, dispensing grimaces and advice in equal measure in this slight new comedy.

David, who works in the accounting department of Unabible (a company looking to translate the Bible into every existing language), had thought he was dying of a brain disease, but, oops, he's not. So now he wants to get busy with living, buy a co-op, and settle down with his caustic girlfriend, Daphne (Laura Wickens, who also plays Carla's amanuensis, Polish immigrant Zoya). But Carla has other ideas.

You see, Carla does have a fatal disease: twinkle-eyed, zany, oddball wisdom. This sort of illness used to be epidemic in plays like Herb Gardner's A Thousand Clowns and many of the comedies of Neil Simon. Carla's a loveable meddling yenta who knows from whence she speaks with her injunctions to carpe the diem: She lost her beloved husband several years ago — never mind that his slightly bemused ghost (Dick Morrill) keeps popping out of closets for conversation and cuddles.

The Sordid Perils of Actual Existence does have some serious fish to fry in questioning stock beliefs such as religious faith or cynicism that people hold on to in order to anchor themselves even at the cost of their own happiness. But this is an uneven, overly speech-laden, sentimental play in an uneven if well-intentioned production directed by co-playwright Tom Gladwell.

Presented by and at Theater for the New City, 155 First Ave., NYC. Nov. 23-Dec. 2. Thu.-Sun., 8 p.m. (212) 254-1109 or www.theaterforthenewcity.net.

Home James

November 19, 2007

By Christopher Murray

The Secret Theatre opened in September in the Long Island City Art Center as a new center of operations for the Queens Players. Until then, the formerly peripatetic company relied on a series of restaurant event rooms for performance space. The plucky little group's second production, a picaresque comedy called Home James, was directed and adapted by Artistic Director Richard Mazda from the original British production in which he acted, as he does here.

The play follows young Jamie (the deadpan and droll Robbie Rescigno) as he comes to New York from Poughkeepsie to stay with his kooky cousin Crystal (the likeable Christina Shipp) following the death of his beloved father from bowel cancer. He meets a number of eccentric types in a series of vignettes that switch locale from New York to Tijuana and back.

The play is rescued from cliché by a very charming and game group of comedic actors in multiple roles. Each character seems to have a brilliantly individual laugh, from a bark or a chortle to a giggle or a scream. It's kind of delightful.

BarbaraAnne Smilko is amusing as a subway poet-panhandler but really nails a caricature of a bored phone receptionist imitating a voice mail message. Robin Cannon, Ali Silva, and Yarida Mendez also bring idiosyncratic zest to their parts. Richard Mazda, wearing all his various hats (including a really shocking canary green and yellow sombrero at one point), wisely keeps the production values simple and the pace muy rapido.

Robbie Rescigno brings more than a dash of Buster Keaton to bear as he gloomily observes all the mayhem around him. But his fey portrait of a young man's grief drawing him towards adulthood is alternately moving and quite funny. He's somewhat miscast in this role, but an actor to watch.

Presented by the Queens Players at the Secret Theatre, 44-02 23rd St., Long Island City, NYC.Nov 14-Dec. 1. Thu.-Sat., 8 p.m.(212) 352-3101 or (866) 811-4111 or www.theatermania.com.

Gay Psychic Interview

Dishing Out 'Tuff Love'
By: CHRISTOPHER MURRAY
11/29/2007

With psychic Hank Hivnor, it's all good, so put away the garlic.

If you are terminally hip and need some advice on whether to move forward on that kooky installation project you've been planning or just give in and become a corporate drone, maybe you should take a break one Wednesday night and head out to Williamsburg's Sugarland where Thain Torres hosts the weekly Tuff Love party. There you can slurp up some Pabst Blue Ribbon for cheap, ogle the go-go boys, and consult with the event's resident psychic, Hank Hivnor.

Thirty-nine years old but still with the enthusiasm and spunkiness of a recent art school transplant to the city, Hivnor, who actually grew up here, offers advice and insight based on his being "in tune with the infinite" as Professor Marvel told Dorothy Gale. Hivnor is also the creative force and writer behind "Emerald Crest," a serial performance event in the mold of Jeff Weiss' "Hot Keys." Originally performed at the Art Land Bar and Dixon Place, the soap opera is in development for its next series of episodes.

CHRISTOPHER MURRAY: So what does the resident psychic at Tuff Love actually do?
HANK HIVNOR: I read auras, energy. People always ask me where are the cards - no cards here! I just read people, It's so much fun doing readings at parties because it feels like a party when I'm giving readings, it's a happy affair. I help people to focus on their passions and find clarity, so that's my intention. Aside from that, I can look at your former lives, and make predictions. I'm also a medium, I can talk to the folks upstairs!

CM: How did you realize you were psychic and how is your track record?

HH: You know what? I didn't realize I was psychic, I realized how to control the energy, because I just thought I was hyper-sensitive and crazy. I luckily met some great mentors who taught me how to ground my energy and make my gifts available to myself and others. My track record is good because people come back and say, "It did happen like you said and, oh yes, my grandmother did have three red dogs that were always with her," and lots of details like that.

CM: Is a gay psychic different from a straight one?

HH: I think that many gay people are more psychic than straight people, you have to be. I grew up in a pretty straight world and it's not just about finding action, like with gaydar, it's often about survival and recognizing danger. But regardless of your sexual orientation, the process is the same, and the spirits wouldn't judge, they are just loving energies that provide information.

CM: What's the one thing that gay hipsters want most to hear a psychic say to them?

HH: I don't tell people what they want to hear, I answer their questions, and that's usually better. I will tell you what the majority of people are concerned about - love and career - and my intention is matched with a very loving universal energy that desires that they completely succeed and have the best of everything.

CM: What's the scene like at Tuff Love? Is it tawdry and louche?

HH: Hold on, my mom gave me a dictionary for my birthday. Louche? Maybe when it gets cold enough we can do some louching off the roof deck. Tuff Love is a really fun scene, it reminds me of the East Village of the '90s - fun, wild, and weird - a place you can be yourself in. It's not boring, and you know New York has gotten a little boring!

CM: Do people drink beer while they are being "read," and isn't that dangerous, like they could get possessed or something?

HH: No, no, only possessed with the desire to dance naked on the bar! It's all good. I create a sacred space and uphold that energy. Bars can be ghost magnets but I've never felt anything strange at Sugarland, and who has the time? We're there to have fun! Sometimes people project what they think a psychic is supposed to be at me and freak out when they find out I'm just me. Look! It's me Hank, and I have these abilities and this is a cool resource for you, so put away your garlic and relax!

CM: What's up with the soap opera and when is it coming back?

HH: "Emerald Crest?" It's in the shop but it's going to start again soon. That's kind of you to mention that. Yes folks, I also write comedy!

CM: You come from a Salinger-esque family here in New York. Your dad was a code breaker for the Brits during World War II and then a playwright and there were snakes and raccoons running around the house when you were a kid. Then you grew up and marched in the Mermaid Parade last summer as a giant jellyfish. Now you are a Williamsburg gay psychic and comic auteur. So are you a complete creature or a just down-home kinda guy?

HH: I'm kinda all over the place, I'm happiest when I'm involved in a creative project with other loonies, but at the end of the day it's really nice to snuggle on the couch with a movie and a buddy. I'm really pretty normal, but I had thought of being a cactus or sea anemone for Halloween!

You can consult Psychic Hank at the Tuff Love Performance Salon and Party on Wednesdays from 10 p.m. to 4 a.m. at Sugarland at 221 North Ninth Street between Driggs and Roebling Streets, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. For more information, go to www.myspace.com/tuffloveparty.

©GayCityNews 2007