David Hurst: critic, lover, heartbreaker

It's true. The NB was created as a forum for pithy commentary on the world of pop culture. It is not supposed to be about its author. Usually, when its author speaks, the passive voice and the royal "we" are utilized, so as to create the illusion of disconnectedness and unselfishness.

The thing is I get it: no one wants to read my journal. I know that. I understand that. It's fine.

However, my heart was torn to shreds this weekend, and I just need a moment to cry. Please understand that things will return to normal once this is done.

What happened was, David Hurst, a reviewer for such NYC publications as Show Business Weekly, Theatermania and NEXT magazine, decided to write this this week.

Moving from the sublime to the ridiculous, Michael Conley's musical revue "hello, boys!", with original songs written by Conley and Matthew Loren Cohen, returned to Don't Tell Mama this month for another short run. Conley's talent is undeniable, but the music in "hello boys!" is beyond banal-a frustrating mix of smart lyrics and dreadful music, severely undercutting Conley and his often hysterical delivery is Cohen, who bangs on the piano with a relentless intensity that's as exhausting as it is mind-numbing. It's funny for 15 or 20 minutes, but an hour of pounding will try anyone's patience, regardless of the star's talents.

Now, I'm all for being able to take it because I sure love to dole it out. But, David Hurst, what happened? We were once in love, Hursty. Don't you remember writing this?

All the performers are savvy comics who are quick on their feet and ingenious with a turn of phrase or rhyming scheme. Their efforts would be impossible without a magician behind the piano and "TNBBM" has a genius in Matthew Loren Cohen who keeps the underscoring going constantly and then, miraculously, composes the songs effortlessly. You don’t have to be a musician to be impressed with his inventiveness but, if you are, his versatility is all the more amazing.

Apparently you never got all the Harry & David fruit baskets I sent every Christmas since we kindled our relationship. And, David, I was serious when I made reservations for us at Spice Market before Lauren Ezersky ruined it all. You never showed up, but I never gave up hoping. Alas, it was not to be. I just wish I knew what I did to hurt you. I never meant to, Davey. You have to believe me when I say I never meant to.

1 comment:

Ian said...

Bitter queens, who forget to medicate their manic depression, are everywhere. Not that you need me to say this, but there are songs in your show that give me goosebumps - notwithstanding the lyrical silliness. But then, maybe that's why Hurst writes for a Pulitzer prize-winning outlet like Next. You should ask him to mix the sound at your next show. He probably needs the cash.