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Raise that Curtain: Review of “As the Curtain Rises - Broadway’s First Digital Soap Opera”
Schmakary’s Cookies, flying banshees, gratuitous references to pigs in a blanket, and a healthy appreciation of Andrew Barth Feldman. Add some “Real Housewives” worthy drama, on-and-off romances, a star-studded cast of theatre virtuosos, and you get “As the Curtain Rises - Broadway’s First Digital Soap Opera.”
Written by Dori Berinstein and Mark Peikert, this is the zany, colorful story of the making of “Avvatar: The Musical.” And no, that’s not a misspelling of the highest grossing movie of all time. The podcast centers primarily on accolated writing team Kaye (Ashley Park) and Bobby (Michael Urie) as well as hotshot rival producers Cheryl Philips (Lillias White) and Steve Jones (James Monroe Iglehart) as they scramble to put together fictitious “Avvatar” without the rights to its plot, world, or name, and on a killer deadline to boot. Drama, as is fitting for the stage, ensues.
“As the Curtain Rises” is an example of how podcasts as a format for fiction just work, when done right. There might not be a stage to look at, but the well-placed sound effects create an ambiance that transports you right into the bustle of Broadway. The occasional interspersed voice messages from various professionals and Alex Brightman’s comedically balanced commentary as the Narrator break up the dialogue and create higher stakes for the players (and are just plain fun).
For theatre lovers, there are references galore integrated seamlessly into the dialogue (as a zealous enthusiast, I was perhaps a bit too gleeful at the mention of “Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812”). Even for those less theatrically inclined, the story is strong enough to stand apart from the world it inhabits. Many characters are undoubtedly self-centered people who treat the world around them as a convenient ladder for their own success—it is a soap opera. But the cast manages to emit just enough humanity to imbue your exuberant disdain of the personages with a dose of grudging love. The humor of the writing, absurd yet subtle in its sarcasm, doesn’t hurt either.
The best part of “As the Curtain Rises” is how much of a celebration of theatre it is. Through a medium that asks you to sit and listen, the show conveys the pulsating panic that comes from putting on any kind of production, the intoxicating euphoria of success at the end of a road of trials, and the electric, hair-raising joy of theatre.
This podcast is not a technical explanation of how Broadway works. Rather, it is an idiosyncratic quarantine triumph that, through a tight twelve-episode arc, pokes fun at “theatre kids” all the while being gaudy, loud, and ostentatious in the way only they can. I give it a standing ovation.
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This review of a digital soap opera is as unusual an undertaking as the reviewed creation itself.