The Boys in the Band returns to theatres

We're both excited and jealous as all Hell to hear that The Boys in the Band is in theatre's again! It's one of our favorite films and judging from the New York Times review, it's quite the theatrical experience, too:

This proximity to the actors means that you smell the cologne that Michael sprays on himself as he prepares for the party, singing along with Judy Garland (of course). And you can practically taste the lasagna prepared by two of the play’s neatly archetypal characters: Emory (John Wellmann), the effeminate one, and Bernard (Kevyn Morrow), the black one, the seemingly complicit victims of the most demeaning jokes here.

You can also practically taste the bile and bitterness that emanate from Michael, embodied with undiluted viciousness by Mr. Hammond in the evening’s cornerstone performance. Once Michael sets up the nasty climactic party game (convenient for stripping people to their naked and trembling souls), things get truly uncomfortable. In addition to being irritated by the script’s formulaic contrivances, you may find yourself thinking, “O.K., as a respectful audience member, I can’t walk out of this room, but what’s keeping most of these characters here?”

Such feelings of entrapment are, I presume, intentional. They enforce a sense of unhappy men trapped in personas that are either lies or exaggerations of qualities they may possess but also hold in contempt. They are also trapped, it seems, in a masochistic funhouse hall of mirrors in which they serve as one another’s unflattering, distorting reflections.