Lane is all but setting fire to the stage (as his character at one point threatens to), it is not the stuff of banner headlines. It looks photo-op fabulous, with its augustly shabby, nicotine-stained pressroom (by Douglas W. Its cast is filled to the gills with tabloid-worthy faces, as was the audience for its opening night (which in a rare break from recent tradition, critics attended, instead of the usual news media previews). So to finish the thought I started before I so rudely interrupted myself, the latest edition of “The Front Page” is … diverting. But though “The Front Page” is all about the adrenaline rush that turns journalists into deadline junkies, it’s hard to work up the proper urgency about Jack O’Brien’s production. No doubt Walter would inform me that you, my impatient audience, have already stopped reading by now.
#Nytimes front page may 31 2016 manual#
Burns is portrayed quite spectacularly by Nathan Lane as a man whose advice you ignore at your peril, I shall state right away - with the rattling fanfare of a hundred manual typewriters - that the revival of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur’s 1928 classic, which opened on Thursday night at the Broadhurst Theater, is …ĭang it! (Imagine I just wrote something saltier.) That’s way too much prose for any paragraph, never mind a lead.
“Who the hell reads the second paragraph?” snarls Walter Burns, the merciless newspaper editor in “The Front Page,” examining the copy of his star reporter.
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