THE TONY AWARDS: A MODEST PROPOSAL

GIVE THE PRODUCERS THEIR OWN SHOW

The Tony broadcast was irresistible this year, absent the scripted gibberish that has padded the show for years. I just needed to say that. The striking Writers Guild of America’s negotiated settlement allowing the Tonys to proceed, televised, but without professionally pre-digested patter, was a break for all of us. The result, clearly unintended, was an evening of spontaneity, of heartfelt acceptance speeches, more than occasional wit from the presenters (some of it even caustically political), lots of live musical numbers straight-up, and adorable, un-narrated, backstage glimpses of Broadway musical casts cheering wildly for each other as they entered and exited the stage. The sense of community was intoxicating.

And yet, the show still dragged unconscionably in places, and every one of those places involved producers. Handed their Tonys for Best Play or Best Revival or Best Musical, the producers ran amok, as they always do, with speeches so egocentrically endless, to say nothing of their Lost Tribe processions to the stage in biblically numerous absurdity; the hejira of the investors.

It easily costs the show many precious minutes.

Make it stop. Cut the whole business (and it is all about business). Pick your person and send her/him/they up there; one Tony — one accepter. Everyone else, please stay the hell seated.

And if the producers complain — as they will, because stage time is how producers sell investors on investing these days, with the promise that their bucks will buy them a spot up there beside the big prize — well…here is a modest proposal:

Give them their own show. A half-hour or so, right after the real broadcast — just like the current hour-long pre-show that now carries all of the supposedly secondary awards. This year that show was far and away more lovely and compelling than even the main event, with more heartfelt acceptances, more unscripted banter, and two wonderful, full-length tributes to the two Lifetime Achievers, John Kander and Joel Grey, as opposed to the scandalously disrespectful, hurried walk-on and walk-off these two theater gods were given on the coast-to-coast broadcast. (Just two minutes clawed back from the producers would have sufficed to hear them at least speak!)

So, let the producers have their own after-show. They deserve one. Without them there truly would be no shows. Muster their “producer” multitudes (who used to be called “backers,” in part because they remained in the background) as both audience and awardees, filling the front rows and piling onstage at their leisure. Allow every single one of them to deliver an acceptance speech. Everybody will be so happy.

Let’s face it, the only people on that Tony stage who really make any money from the Tony broadcast are the producers. Their production bottom lines benefit directly from the exposure. Everybody else up there gets a T.V. taste and then goes back to eight shows a week, or a day job. Give the producers what they want: Unlimited face time. Plus the cost benefit. But wrangle them until all of of us have exited.

Tony viewers worldwide will say, Thank You.

A modest proposal.