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    Review: How Music Came Down to Earth, in ‘Goddess’

    Amber Iman lives up to the title of a musical about the divine gift of song.If you’re going to call your show “Goddess,” you’d better have one handy. Luckily, the musical with that name that opened on Tuesday at the Public Theater stars Amber Iman, who fully fits the bill. Whether scatting or belting or just standing tall in gold eye shadow and regal gowns, she conveys the combination of power and ease that inevitably elicits words like “otherworldly.”When Saheem Ali, the director of “Goddess,” gives Iman and the rest of the talented cast a chance to display that otherworldliness, mostly while performing the songs by Michael Thurber and dances by Darrell Grand Moultrie, the show makes a strong case for live performance as a central expression of our divided nature. “What is human? What is divine?” goes one of Thurber’s better lyrics. “Do either exist until they intertwine?”But when merely talking, “Goddess” descends. The book by Ali, with additional material by James Ijames, is labored, with a conventional plot about a young Kenyan man torn between furthering his family’s political dynasty and baring his artistic soul. (He plays saxophone.) It doesn’t take long to get bogged down in banalities of both the domestic and the folkloric variety.Because yes, the goddess of the title is literal. Iman plays Marimba, a mythic East African queen who, we learn in a flashback, taught humans to sing and gave them their first instruments. But like Omari, the saxophonist, Marimba has parent problems. Her mother wants her to go into the family business, which to judge from Julian Crouch’s amazing puppets and masks is evidently Evil Incarnate. But Marimba, refusing to accept the mantle of war goddess, instead escapes to Mombasa to live under a new name, Nadira, in an underground nightclub called Moto Moto.Arica Jackson, left, plays a spunky nightclub owner and Nick Rashad Burroughs, seated in the chair, is its exuberant emcee.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesIt is there that Nadira becomes a queen in the secular sense: a star. Singing Thurber’s mélange of music, which encompasses smooth jazz, R&B, theatrical pop and an aura of Afrobeat, she draws an audience that is similarly diverse. Moto Moto, run by the spunky Rashida (Arica Jackson) and emceed by the exuberant Ahmed (Nick Rashad Burroughs) becomes a hotbed of heterogeneity (there’s even a shaman) in a culture that is otherwise intolerant of mixing.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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    George Wendt’s Norm Made Every ‘Cheers’ Entrance Feel Fresh

    George Wendt of “Cheers,” who died on Tuesday, could walk into a bar and imply his character’s entire life outside it.Man walks into a bar.It’s the starting point for a million jokes. And for season after season on “Cheers,” some of the best of those were delivered by George Wendt, who died on Tuesday at age 76, as the long-suffering Norm Peterson.We knew him, above all, from his entrances, throwing open the door of the show’s namesake tavern, greeted with a hearty — all together now — “Norm!” You could say that he was the character whom the show’s theme-song lyrics (“Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name”) were about.Making his way in the world today, Wendt’s performance suggested, took everything Norm had got. A bedraggled accountant (later unemployed, later a house painter), Norm spent his days getting the stuffing kicked out of him by life, then returned to Cheers to replace that stuffing with beer.“Cheers” did not take place entirely within the bar that gave the sitcom its name, but it mostly did. The setting was a place people came to escape somewhere else. And that meant that the actors portraying those suds-drinking refugees had to portray that somewhere-else entirely through the strength of their performances.Wendt was the champion of that. His stage entrances — tie loosened, top collar button open, drawn to his bar stool as if it were a magnet — implied everything that he was hustling to get away from, every trouble he wished to drown. His wife, Vera, existed almost entirely offstage, but Wendt made their relationship real with his cheerful griping. You didn’t see his work day, but you saw how eagerly he washed down the aftertaste of it.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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    George Wendt, Who Played Norm on ‘Cheers,’ Dies at 76

    A burly, easygoing Chicago native, he became a staple of living rooms across the country for more than a decade as one of America’s favorite barflies.George Wendt, who earned six consecutive Primetime Emmy Award nominations for his role as the bearish, beer-quaffing Everyman Norm Peterson on the enduring sitcom “Cheers,” died on Tuesday morning at home in Studio City, Calif. He was 76.His death was confirmed by his manager, Geoff Cheddy, who did not specify a cause.Over more than four decades, Mr. Wendt racked up about 170 film and television credits. But he was best known for “Cheers.” He appeared on every episode of the sitcom during its 11-year run on NBC, which began in 1982. His streak of Emmy nominations for outstanding supporting actor in a comedy series began in 1984.Mr. Wendt, a native of the South Side of Chicago, started his entertainment career in inglorious fashion, sweeping the floors at the Second City, the famed improvisational comedy club in his hometown that helped launch the careers of generations of stars, including John Belushi, Mike Myers, Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.In 1974, he became part of the Second City’s touring production and resident company. “I had no acting experience in my background,” he said in a 2013 interview with The Democrat and Chronicle newspaper of Rochester, N.Y., “but something just clicked.” He remained with the company until 1980.With his easy charm and lunch-pail demeanor, Mr. Wendt headed for Hollywood to appear in the pilot for an NBC show called “Nothing but Comedy․” He later popped up on popular television shows like “Taxi,” “Alice” and “Hart to Hart” before becoming one of America’s favorite barflies on “Cheers.”He later said that his pronounced girth was key to the role, making Norm the relatable guy that viewers would feel like sidling up next to at their neighborhood bar.“One nice thing about being fat for a living is that you don’t worry about losing weight or dieting,” Mr. Wendt once said. “I don’t know how much I’d have to lose before it was noticeable. Anyhow, if I lost 100 pounds people would say, ‘Oh, no, not another fat comedian wanting to be a leading man!’”While the Norm character felt natural to who he was, he said, there were definitely differences between fiction and reality.“The Norm you see in ‘Cheers’ has been years in the making,” he said. “I have some characteristics in common with him besides our fondness for beer. But I think I’m a lot happier than Norm.”He added: “I was a beer drinker long before ‘Cheers.’ When I put a couple of six packs on top of my grocery shopping cart, people are pleased. I tell ’em I’m taking them home to rehearse.”A complete obituary will be published soon.Ash Wu More

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    ‘Pernille’ Is a Brilliant Norwegian Dramedy

    The series, about an endearingly ordinary woman who works in child welfare, is a lot like Pamela Adlon’s spirited FX dramedy “Better Things.”The Norwegian dramedy “Pernille” (in Norwegian, with subtitles, or dubbed), on Netflix, is about as lovely as shows get, endearing but mercifully resistant to treacle.Henriette Steenstrup created and stars in the show as Pernille, a single mom to two of the most ungrateful — realistic — teens on TV. She is reeling from her sister’s death six months earlier, and she still leaves her sister voice mails, sometimes chatty and sometimes wrenching.Pernille’s older daughter, Hanna (Vivild Falk Berg), is histrionic and capricious and suddenly dragging her feet about a long-planned gap year in Argentina. The younger, Sigrid (Ebba Jacobsen Oberg), is a ball of rage, surly beyond measure but still young enough to be read to at night and get tucked in sometimes. Pernille’s nephew, Leo (Jon Ranes), is also living with them while his father recovers from the accident that killed his mother. The show kicks off with Pernille’s widower dad (Nils Ole Oftebro) announcing that he is gay and ready to live his truth.The show is, in all the good ways, a lot like Pamela Adlon’s FX dramedy “Better Things,” which was also about a single mom, her aging parent and her indulged, difficult daughters. The heroines share a life-animating sense of duty, as well as a prickly, spirited humor and brilliance. They both have drip exes whose intermittent fathering is a grave disappointment, and they both have robust social support and sexually encouraging friends.The biggest difference between the shows is that Adlon’s character, Sam, is situated as uniquely, dazzlingly bohemian, a fount of outsider art, sumptuous recipes, dark eyeliner and arty pals. Pernille is more squarely ordinary. She sings in a community choir and spends a lot of time texting, and she gets star-struck just meeting a guy who works on Nick Cave’s tour. This isn’t to say Pernille isn’t special. She is, of course, once you know her, which is exactly what the show accomplishes.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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    Late Night Is Concerned About (the Truth Behind) Biden’s Health

    “They used to say it’s not the crime, it’s the cover-up, but it’s starting to feel like politics is all cover-up,” Jon Stewart said.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.Our Sympathies, but …The news that former President Joseph R. Biden Jr. had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of prostate cancer naturally spurred late-night discussion on Monday.On “The Daily Show,” Jon Stewart mocked those professing sympathy for Biden while at the same time using his condition to score political points. “They used to say it’s not the crime, it’s the cover-up, but it’s starting to feel like politics is all cover-up,” Stewart said.“Don’t news people have to tell you what they know when they find it out? Isn’t that the difference between news and a secret?” — JON STEWART“That’s what’s so hilarious about politicians: The cover-up doesn’t work when everyone knows you’re lying.” — JON STEWART“The tell is when you’re so over-the-top about what you don’t want to tell the truth about.” — JON STEWART“It’s clear Biden wasn’t running the country. Hell, he couldn’t have run a dishwasher, and they knew that.” — GREG GUTFELDThe Punchiest Punchlines (Games We Play Edition)“‘The American.’ Do you know what that is? It’s the idea of [Homeland Security Secretary] Kristi Noem to have a new reality show where immigrants compete against each other to win American citizenship. She said, ‘It’s not like “The Hunger Games,” even though it sounds exactly like ‘The Hunger Games.’” — BILL MAHER“Anyone who thought about it for six seconds would say, ‘Oh, wait, no — this is “The Hunger Games.”’” — STEPHEN COLBERT“I know that sounds dystopian, but, to be fair, that’s how citizenship has always worked. In fact, my great-grandfather actually won the first season of ‘So You Think You Can Dig the Erie Canal.’” — STEPHEN COLBERT“The Knicks eliminated the Boston Celtics to advance to the next round, and after the game, things got crazy. Rowdy Knicks fans went down to Penn Station and caused $3 million worth of improvements.” — JIMMY FALLON“SAG-AFTRA filed an unfair-labor charge against Fortnite, after the game revealed an A.I. Darth Vader that can talk back to players. Great idea, Fortnite, let gamers make Darth Vader say stuff. Because if there’s one thing I know about gamers, they are super polite and respectful.” — TAYLOR TOMLINSONThe Bits Worth WatchingJohn Oliver dissected the ways in which President Trump shapes coverage of his presidency, including using lawsuits and the F.C.C. as leverage, on Sunday’s “Last Week Tonight.”What We’re Excited About on Tuesday NightAmid conspiracy theories circling about his photo of seashells appearing to be a threat against the president, the former F.B.I director James Comey will surely set the record straight on “The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.”Also, Check This OutWith Sarah Sherman, left, Ariana Grande, Marcello Hernández, Heidi Gardner and Ego Nwodim, “Saturday Night Live” generated an unlikely viral hit in October with a sketch about a seducer named Domingo. Will Heath/NBCNow that the 50th season of “Saturday Night Live” is at an end, here are its most memorable moments, from political satire to straight-up silliness. Domingo! More

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    John Mulaney’s Weird Talk Show on Netflix Suddenly Found Its Way

    “Everybody’s Live With John Mulaney” understands what’s wrong with the genre. Still, it took time to hit on the ambitious free-for-all it is now.Last week, John Mulaney hosted his weekly talk show blindfolded, because, well, why not?Covering his eyes enabled him to make a joke about what he has in common with the pope: “We’re both from Chicago and we both willfully blind ourselves to the absurdities of our job.”Yet the stunt had less to do with opportunities for punchlines than with short-circuiting the rhythms of the talk show. Putting a host in such a predicament scrambles the script. Mulaney occasionally wandered away from the camera, leaving us, his viewers, abandoned and slightly worried for him. What’s remarkable is that if you were to rank the most bizarre aspects of that hour of “Everybody’s Live With John Mulaney” (every Wednesday on Netflix), blindfolding the host might not make the Top 10.Consider the competition: Mulaney’s sidekick, Richard Kind, told a story about taking a nap on a toilet during a date. An actor playing Yakub, a bulbous-headed ancient scientist who the Nation of Islam believes invented white people, came onstage to sing a show tune. That was followed by an actress who did an impression of Jean Smart — that is, if she weren’t smart. (The character’s name was, naturally, Jean Dumb.) Steve Guttenberg appeared and underneath his name onscreen, it read: “Defund the Police Academy.” Then there was the subplot of a daredevil robot named Saymo who broke up with his girlfriend in front of a crowd on a studio lot, then tried to roll off a ramp and fly over a car. He failed and crashed to bits.With a lab-experiment aesthetic, “Everybody’s Live” is the most ambitious, most anything-goes television talk show in many years. Whether it works is more of an evolving question.The season began with a firm idea of what was wrong with other talk shows: actors promoting projects, overly planned chat, generic topicality, formulaic structure. Critics like me have long complained about these elements, and Mulaney, bless him, just did away with them. But figuring out the show you want to do is harder than knowing the one you don’t.“Everybody’s Live” is less original than it appears (even the blindfold had been done before). Trying to escape topicality, Pete Holmes’s short-lived talk show organized monologues around not the news but broad subjects like marriage or family. Mulaney did something similar, centering every episode on quirkier themes like “Can major surgery be fun?”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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    ‘Bus Stop’ Review: Travelers Find Shelter From a Storm

    Intimacy is at the heart of this rare revival of William Inge’s 1955 play, about stranded passengers learning from one another and about themselves.When a blizzard strands stagecoach passengers in a lodge in Quentin Tarantino’s “The Hateful Eight,” violence and mayhem erupt. Death looms.Eight people are also marooned by a snowstorm in William Inge’s 1955 play “Bus Stop,” but what looms for them is life: Some take stock, others try to figure out what awaits.Best known for its movie adaptation starring Marilyn Monroe, “Bus Stop” isn’t seen much in New York these days, so Classic Stage Company, the National Asian American Theater Company and Transport Group should be thanked for this revival.The director Jack Cummings III staged Inge’s “Come Back, Little Sheba” and “Picnic” in repertory for the Transport Group in 2017, and is familiar with the delicate bard of the Midwest, whose deceptively plain work captures the lives of working people. The most consequential decision here is to forgo amplification, creating a sense of intimacy at the Kansas diner where four bus passengers and their driver (David Shih) wait out the weather. The diner’s owner Grace (Cindy Cheung) and a waitress, the high school student Elma (Delphi Borich), are used to parades of customers, but maybe not for such extended stays. Conversations stop and start as the visitors chat among themselves and with the locals, who include the sheriff, Will (David Lee Huynh). Elma, for example, is fascinated by Dr. Gerald Lyman (Rajesh Bose), a former professor whose flowery verbiage evokes a broader, more literate world than hers — and a more perverse one, too, as he has a taste for underage women.But the most striking of the newcomers is Cherie (Midori Francis), a nightclub singer who has been whisked away by Bo (Michael Hsu Rosen), a smitten young cowboy who plans to take her to his Montana ranch, whether she likes it or not.The story line is rattling to a contemporary audience. But the beauty, humanity and complexity of Inge’s writing is that he makes us understand what drives Bo and, even more important, who Cherie is, and why she stays with Bo.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 6 Mitford Sisters, Their Jewelry and a New TV Series

    The costume designer for “Outrageous” talks about finding designs that the women would have worn.The Mitford sisters, known for their 20th-century aristocratic glamour and political scandal, were not among England’s most gem-laden women. But jewelry did play a role in their outsize public profiles.“Diana the fascist, Jessica the communist, Unity the Hitler-lover, Nancy the novelist, Deborah the duchess and Pamela the unobtrusive poultry connoisseur” is how Ben Macintyre, a writer for The Times of London, once described the six women.Now they are the subjects of “Outrageous,” a six-part series scheduled to debut June 18 on BritBox in the United States and Canada and June 19 on U and U&Drama in Britain. The series is set in the 1930s, the era in which they became famous — and infamous — and arrives on the heels of the discovery of a diary kept by Unity, who was obsessed with Hitler and, by her own account, was his lover. Excerpts were published this year by The Daily Mail.A childish prank involving Unity and Jessica was most likely one of the sisters’ earliest jewelry episodes. “A diamond ring was used to etch both the image of a hammer and sickle and swastika on a window in their childhood home,” Sarah Williams, the writer of “Outrageous,” said in a recent video interview. “They had such a young bond as kids, but they were both rebels, and that bond of rebellion was stronger than their political beliefs. They were absolute extremes.”The sisters — there also was one brother, Thomas, who was killed in World War II — were the children of David Freeman-Mitford, the second Baron Redesdale, and his wife, Sydney Bowles. While the family was not particularly wealthy, the sisters were schooled at home and then entered society.“As part of our research, we specifically collected images of jewelry pieces worn by the Mitford girls,” Claire Collins, the costume designer for “Outrageous,” said by email, “and although we couldn’t replicate certain pieces, we were able to use them as a guide.”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