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    Jonathan Tunick Unveils a Grand Orchestration of Sondheim’s ‘A Little Night Music’

    Jonathan Tunick, Stephen Sondheim’s longtime collaborator, unveiled a grand orchestration of “A Little Night Music” that deserves more than a concert.Near the end of Stephen Sondheim’s musical “A Little Night Music,” the orchestra swells to what he is said to have called his Max Steiner moment, something out of “Casablanca” or “Gone With the Wind.”Désirée and Fredrik, former lovers who reconnect but nearly miss out on happiness again, come together and kiss. The instruments respond with a grand, emotive reprise of the show’s 11 o’clock number, “Send in the Clowns.”At a concert performance of “A Little Night Music” at David Geffen Hall on Thursday, the premiere of a new orchestration by Sondheim’s longtime collaborator Jonathan Tunick, the 53-piece Orchestra of St. Luke’s let out a fortissimo tutti. Strings and winds soared with the melody, but there was more: resonant, staggered chords to support it in the low voices, and florid counterpoint. It was a moment fit not only for the movies but for the opera house, which, perhaps, is where this new orchestration belongs.Not all musicals are fit for stages beyond Broadway, but some are. And there has been a resurgence, since Sondheim’s death in 2021, of large-scale revivals of his work. (This, after years of skillfully stripped-down productions by John Doyle.) “Sweeney Todd” returned to Broadway with Tunick’s original orchestration for nearly 30 players, crackling with detail and musical drama. Last week, “Follies” was presented at Carnegie Hall with a similarly sized ensemble and a starry cast in concert.The version of “A Little Night Music” on Thursday had nearly double those forces. If anyone can be trusted with that task, it’s Tunick. He and Sondheim first collaborated on “Company,” in 1970, and Tunick orchestrated the composer’s final, unfinished show, “Here We Are,” last year.Tunick, center, was Sondheim’s longtime collaborator, starting with the 1970 musical “Company.”Joan MarcusWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    This Debate, We Could Hear Biden Speak. There His Troubles Began.

    The CNN presidential debate kept the volume down, for a change. That didn’t make it more intelligible.With the plans for the 2024 presidential debates, President Biden’s campaign appeared to get much of what it wanted. It got its preferred timeline, with Thursday night’s debate in Atlanta far earlier on the calendar than usual. It got the live audience removed. It got, above all, an agreement to mute the microphone on the candidate who wasn’t speaking, to avoid the cross-talk that made his first 2020 debate with Donald J. Trump a cacophonous mess.After Thursday night, Mr. Biden — and his party — might have wanted the cross-talk back.The changes that CNN instituted staved off the shouting matches and the competitive cheering that have marked past debates. But they could not prevent Mr. Biden from starting his rushed opening remarks in a papery rasp that, before the debate was over, his campaign was stressing to reporters was the result of a cold. It did not keep him from getting lost in the corn maze of his sentences, answer after answer.And it did not keep him from finishing an argument on tax reform and health care with a spiral that was surely saved instantly to the hard drives of Republican campaign operatives: “Making sure that we’re able to make every single solitary person eligible for what I’ve been able to do with, the, uh, with the Covid, excuse me, with, um, dealing with, everything we had to do with, uh … look … if — we finally beat Medicare.”There was no interruption. Mr. Biden came across loud and unclear.You can at least credit Mr. Biden for one accomplishment: For perhaps the first time since Mr. Trump announced for president nine years ago, he managed to hold a debate in which Mr. Trump’s performance was not the biggest news afterward.The former president and challenger had his own issues. He blustered, dodged, made false statements and repeated his denials of his 2020 election loss. He cited his golf game as proof of his acuity and uttered the line, “I didn’t have sex with a porn star.” But Mr. Trump, kept to glowering between answers by the mute button, was outrageous and misleading in a familiar way; it was the standard man-bites-fact-checker story.The debate in Atlanta — sorry, the “CNN Presidential Debate,” as the ubiquitous branding emphasized — was fairly bare-bones. (It was also simulcast on the other major news networks.) The moderators, Dana Bash and Jake Tapper, spread questions across a variety of topics, not correcting candidates in the moment. The pushback they gave was limited to reminding the debaters of how much time they had left and firmly asking them, again, to answer questions they had sidestepped, as Ms. Bash did when asking Mr. Trump if he would accept the results of this election as he had not in 2020. (He gave the qualified answer that he would accept a “fair” and “legal” election.)We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Jeremy O. Harris’s ‘Slave Play’ Documentary Is Fueled by Experimental Films

    The playwright Jeremy O. Harris’s “Slave Play. Not a Movie. A Play.” wears its intellectual references on its sleeve.Jeremy O. Harris’s new documentary — titled “Slave Play. Not A Movie. A Play.” — is ostensibly focused on acting students rehearsing scenes from his provocative “Slave Play,” which was nominated in 2020 for 12 Tony Awards.That’s only the beginning.The documentary, which is streaming on Max, becomes an examination of Harris’s artistic influences and why he wants his play to be seen solely as a work of theater. Part of the strategy is calling back to hallmark experimental documentaries.The playwright Jeremy O. Harris, left, providing feedback to acting students who are rehearsing “Slave Play.”HBO“It’s really important to pay homage to these figures who are just now starting to really get the celebration they deserve, but also opened the door for me to do what I’m doing,” Harris said in an interview.Here are some of the references that informed “Slave Play. Not A Movie. A Play.”:‘Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One’“Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One” is a movie about making a movie about directing a screen test.Janus FilmsUnderstanding the premise of this making-of-the-making-of documentary requires some investment.On its first layer, “Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One” (1968) is a screen test filmed in Central Park. On the next, it’s a movie about William Greaves directing the screen test. And then it’s a movie about making a movie about directing a screen test.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘My Lady Jane’ Asks: ‘What if History Were Different?’

    A fantastical series about the very short-term 16th century queen Lady Jane Grey takes historical liberties in the name of reclamation — and fun.Lady Jane Grey is generally considered a tragic heroine, the teen queen of England and Ireland for nine days in 1553 before her foes manipulated her into an early death by execution. As the cheeky narrator of the Amazon series “My Lady Jane” puts it, “History remembers her as the ultimate damsel in distress.”He then adds, using a vulgar term for “forget”: “[Expletive] that. What if history were different?”This is the animating question (and tone) of “My Lady Jane,” which premiered on Prime Video on Thursday. Playful, optimistic, a little raunchy, this take on the Jane Grey story plays like an R-rated version of “The Princess Bride,” with touches of everything from “A Knight’s Tale” to the cult Britcom favorite “Blackadder.”It is also just the latest of a handful of recent series that feature strong women attempting to wrest control of their destinies in the oppressively patriarchal societies of 16th- and 17th-century Europe, a period perched between the Middle Ages and the stirrings of modernity.These shows take liberties with history, none more so than “My Lady Jane.” Like the real historical figure, the title character, played by Emily Bader, is an educated and strong-willed young woman. Unlike the real Jane, the fantasy version is also able to outfox the political and religious forces conspiring against her, with swashbuckling flair and a self-knowing wink. There is also colorblind casting: King Edward VI (Jordan Peters) and one of his sisters, Bess (Abbie Hern), are Black, a decision made by the show’s producers in adapting the series from the novel by Brodi Ashton, Cynthia Hand and Jodi Meadows.And oh, yes: The show has human characters who turn into horses, dogs, snakes and other animals. (Those didn’t really exist).For the showrunners, Gemma Burgess and Meredith Glynn, the series offered a chance to reclaim Jane from the cruelties of history — and have a bit of fun in the process.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Jon Stewart Is a Little Stressed Out About That Debate

    Hosting a live “Daily Show” after the Biden-Trump spectacle, Stewart said he needed “to call a real estate agent in New Zealand.”Welcome to Best of Late Night, a rundown of the previous night’s highlights that lets you sleep — and lets us get paid to watch comedy. Here are the 50 best movies on Netflix right now.Jon Stewart went live hosting “The Daily Show” on Thursday, recapping the debate between President Biden and Donald Trump. Stewart wasn’t in the best of spirits.Things started out strong: “Both men are ambulatory. They are both upright. Level one cleared,” Stewart joked over a clip of the candidates taking the stage. But it wasn’t long before the host said he needed “to call a real estate agent in New Zealand.”One rambling Biden answer — ending with the non sequitur “We finally beat Medicare” — had Stewart staring into the camera in horror.“OK, a high-pressure situation. A lot of times, you can confuse saving Medicare with beating it. I’m sure it’s not something that repeated throughout the debate, causing Democrats across the country to either jump out of windows or vomit silently into the nearest recycling bin. Anybody can [expletive] up talking.” — JON STEWART“I’m not a political expert, but while Biden was preparing at Camp David — for a week — did anyone mention he would also be on camera?” — JON STEWART“A lot of people have resting 25th Amendment face.” — JON STEWARTStewart also called out Trump for his many falsehoods.“Just so we’re all clear, everything that Donald Trump said in that clip is a lie,” he said after one montage. “Blatant and full. And we were tight on time putting this [expletive] together. There’s plenty more. Really makes you wonder: What’s R.F.K. Jr. doing tonight?”“Let me just say after watching tonight’s debate, both of these men should be using performance-enhancing drugs, as much of it as they can get, as many times a day as their bodies will allow. If performance-enhancing drugs will improve their lucidity, their ability to solve problems, and in one of the candidate’s cases, improve their truthfulness, morality and malignant narcissism, then suppository away.” — JON STEWART More

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    ‘N/A’ Review: For Nancy Pelosi and A.O.C., It’s a House Divided

    Is moral leadership possible without parliamentary power? Two very familiar congresswomen battle it out onstage.The publicity for “N/A,” a two-hander that opened at the Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater on Thursday, has been careful to point out that, despite all appearances, the N in the title is not Nancy Pelosi, and the A is not Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Rather, the playwright, Mario Correa, argues in a program note that “N/A” is about a battle of “ideas and ideals,” which are “bigger than any one person (or even two).”I vote nay on that proposition.The play’s ideas and ideals are fine, and modestly if repetitively dramatized, but what makes this swift summer trifle so diverting is the embodiment of the women themselves. N and A are perfect incarnations of their congressional doppelgängers, down to Pelosi’s golden Mace of the United States House of Representatives brooch and A.O.C.’s signature “Beso” red lipstick. The gimmick also gives Holland Taylor (as N) and Ana Villafañe (as A) tasty roles and a meaty conflict to sink their teeth into.Correa frames that conflict as ideological, not personal. In five scenes starting with the 2018 midterms (when the Democrats win control of the House) and ending with the 2022 midterms (when they lose it), he broadly traces their seesawing power.At first the seesaw is profoundly unbalanced. We meet A just after her surprise primary victory against a machine Democrat and N’s handpicked successor. (In real life, that would be Joseph Crowley.) Though still a savvy street fighter, A is awed and a little cowed by the Washington she discovers. “So, yeah, we are not in Kansas anymore,” she tells her Instagram Live followers, invoking a surprising image of fragility.By then, N has been in Congress for 31 years. Having lost the House speakership when “that man” was elected, she intends to reclaim it. Her favorite number — the only one that counts for a parliamentarian — is 218, the number of votes needed to get work done. Anything shy of that is zero.So even though she and A find that they agree on many policy goals, especially ending the inhumane treatment of migrants at the southern border, they are irreconcilably opposed about how to achieve them. N wheedles, calls in chits, holds her nose and plays footsie with lobbyists, and if she doesn’t have the votes to pass a bill, she doesn’t waste her political capital trying. Naturally, A wants to blow that all up.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Jamie Kellner, TV Executive Who Started Fox and WB, Dies at 77

    With an emphasis on younger viewers, he established the networks as serious rivals to ABC, CBS and NBC, which had ruled television for nearly 40 years.Jamie Kellner, a media executive who helped build Fox Broadcasting into a thriving television network with shows such as “Beverly Hills, 90210” and “The Simpsons” — and who went on to create the WB network, known for the angsty “Dawson’s Creek” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” — died on June 21 at his home in Montecito, Calif., near Santa Barbara. He was 77.The cause was cancer, said Brad Turell, a family spokesman.Mr. Kellner was one of the most successful television executives of his generation, whose knack for capturing young viewers — first men at Fox, then women at WB — lured viewers away from the Big Three networks that had ruled television for nearly 40 years.Mr. Kellner believed ABC, NBC and CBS were ignoring viewers under 35 and were hamstrung by middle-of-the-road taste. Rupert Murdoch, Fox Inc.’s owner, and Barry Diller, its chairman, recruited Mr. Kellner from the television syndication business in 1986 and installed him as president of the Fox Broadcasting Company.Its aspiration to be the first new TV network since ABC in 1948 was broadly derided. But from the debut in 1987 of its first series, the lowbrow family sitcom “Married … With Children,” which was shown on six Murdoch-owned stations and a string of independent ones that Mr. Kellner helped stitch together, the new network began stealing the Big Three’s audience.By 1992, with shows like “Melrose Place,” about the social lives of 20-somethings, Fox was No. 1 with viewers 18 to 34. “We don’t really need anyone over 50 years of age to succeed with our business plan,” Mr. Kellner told The New York Times.He resigned in 1993 after seven years at Fox. By then, Mr. Diller had left, and Mr. Kellner and Mr. Murdoch had clashed over Mr. Murdoch’s desire to pivot to older viewers and more mainstream shows.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘The Bear’ Season 3 Is a Clanging, Wailing Beast

    The hit FX series about an upstart Chicago restaurant loves the pressures of tight quarters and close shouting. The new season serves up plenty more.Jeremy Allen White stars in “The Bear.”FXSeason 3 of “The Bear,” available now on Hulu, is a volcano of self-loathing. Appropriately for a show set in Chicago, “The Bear” tends to move in a loop, revisiting the past and bringing old wounds into the present day aboard a clanging, wailing beast. This go-round makes all the local stops: enchanting food porn, bitter screaming matches, elegant monologues, small moments where the audience can learn culinary techniques, a character’s back story that boils down to “they were poor and needed a job.” Doors open on the right at repressed rage.When we last saw our Bear pals, the friends-and-family preview night for their revamped restaurant had collapsed because Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) locked himself in the walk-in fridge — but really because of the fragility and volatility of the clique at large, and the fact that the characters mostly hate their friends and families. Everyone yelled even more than usual, with Carmy and Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) whipping themselves into hysteria through the fridge door, and Carmy and Claire (Molly Gordon) breaking up. Sydney (Ayo Edebiri) was left with all of the responsibility but none of the authority. The action of this season begins moments later, a blue cloud of dejection hanging over everyone.I used to think of “The Bear” as claustrophobic, but now I think it’s claustrophilic: This show loves tight spaces, the pressures of close quarters. Its hugs are all rib-cracking, suffocating, too much. Even dermatologists don’t require such detailed examinations of every mole and pore on people’s cheeks.The show often name-drops actual restaurants, and many real chefs appear as themselves. (This season, they appear a bit too much: Save it for the endless mutual appreciation societies on “Top Chef.”) The omnipresent jargon, the if-you-know-you-know details and the fly-on-the-wall style give everything a rush of legitimacy — it may not be not true, but it’s real. Or wait: maybe not real, but true.That veracity is tempered by the show’s appetite for contrivance. Barnburner monologues give way to dialogue so repetitive it might as well be a Meisner exercise. Comic relief becomes sitcom buffoonery from a dumber planet. The show’s high-profile cameos can yank you out of the action and make you think “ooo, Jamie Lee Curtis” and not just “ooo, dysfunctional Christmas.”Characters on “The Bear” struggle to express themselves and struggle to be understood, so they repeat everything, over and over, louder and louder. What grates is when the show itself does this, too, always adding another line for good measure — just to make extra sure you definitely, 100 percent got what it was going for. In one scene at the end of this season, Carmy and Luca (Will Poulter), Carmy’s old chef pal, reminisce about how many peas they shucked for a certain dish while working together. Sydney says it sounds like “a trauma dish.”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More