Really ABC, really?

Fan-tastic! After rousing concert, Kristin Chenoweth gets down with family,friends & admirers

Kristin Chenoweth with a group of fans at Jones Hall.
In "Maybe this time" from Cabaret, the chanteuse let her hair down, literally.Pitching her scrunchy to stage right and tossing her curls side-to-side . . .now this is a party, one fabulous musical fete.
Chenoweth genuinely was glad to be there, and she was glad you were there, too.
But more than just a brief rendezvous and photo op with Chenoweth after herconcert, the reception was an informal meet-and-greet with the ambiance of agenteel southern Christian bar mitzvah brunch reception sans food, Maddie theMaltese in the mix.

"Hi, I am Kristin," Kristin Chenoweth said.

In keeping up with the sassy petite gal, I wanted to respond teasingly, "Who?" But more like a "duh" slipped out of my mouth, loud enough to be heard by some of the other Chenoweth disciples awaiting eagerly their turn to be introduced to the "There-is-nothing-I-can't-sing-or-do — except television" (her funny words, not mine) celeb.

During a private reception, where more 30 friends, family and fans packed the tiny Jones Hall Green Room, chatter about her sparkly pumps, her cutesy travel-size-I-can-put-you-in-my-pocket stature and her sunny smile overtook any commentary about the show.

But more than just a brief rendezvous and photo op with Chenoweth after her concert in Houston as part of the "Some Lessons Learned" 19-city tour, the reception was an informal meet-and-greet with the ambiance of a genteel southern Christian bar mitzvah brunch reception sans food at around 10:30 p.m. Wednesday.

Yes, we all know who you are, Kristin Chenoweth, but it was that whimsical salutation that disarmed anyone awe-struck by Hollywood-cum-Broadway star sight 'ems, and go on to prattle with Chenoweth as if there was some long-lost-thrice-removed cousin connection.

This bachelorette doll worked the room like a pro, but without making it a "god-now-I-have-to-meet-my-fans" kind of chore.

Then again, with "aunt this" and "cousin that" and "uncle whatever" and a group of blondes that could have been her sororities sisters in a past life present — and an ex-beau with his parents in the room — it wasn't just Chenoweth on parade, it was the whole mishpuche with her well-behaved Maltese Maddie also in the mix.

Nice to meet you as well. Enchanté.

The truth is out there, no breaking news here: Chenoweth is 4-feet, 11-inches tall stepping out of her 5-inch-high twinkling stilettos. But you can't appreciate the size paradox until you come face-to-face with the show biz doyenne. It takes one warm "Hi, I am Kristin" for her to exceed your height in spirit, just like Chenoweth told the audience she used to sing, "I'm Only 4-Foot-11 but I'm Going to Heaven, and it Makes Me Feel 10-Feet Tall," when she was a young girl.

Amid conversing about interviews, bubble baths, doggies, films, GCB (really ABC, really?) and family, sporting jeans, a gray sleeveless button down, hair pulled back in a pony tail, no jewelry and just enough makeup for glow, this bachelorette doll worked the room like a pro, but without making it a "god-now-I-have-to-meet-my-fans" kind of chore.

She genuinely was glad to be there, and she was glad you were there, too.

The music

After a teasing musical intro of her colossal range, courtesy of her music director Mary Mitchell and a 12-piece ensemble — and in case you forgot whom you were there to see, a video montage of key moments in her professional career splattered across a screen with her name in shiny boldface type, to be repeated at the end with more personal material and family photos — Chenoweth pranced onto the stage in a black form-fitting pantsuit bedecked with shimmering earrings, a wide bracelet and a bedazzled microphone.

There's no need to choose between one genre or another for Chenoweth, why not do it all?

And a 32-ounce something-something from Sonic — and a red straw.

No doubt, this was the Kristin Chenoweth Show.

Applause. Screams. We love you Kristin.

She opened with "Should I be Sweet?," from the 1933 musical Take a Chance, which she recorded in her 2001 album Let Yourself Go. Such lyrics, in a way, recount the synopsis of her career. There's no need to choose between one genre or another for Chenoweth, why not do it all? A bit of this, a bit of that, gospel, opera, musical theater, pop, Broadway, jazz, classical, Americana, you name it.

(Insert joke: Not the Dallas Mavs, love, it's the Rockets. You are in Houston.)

Things got sexy rowdy in "Maybe this time" from Cabaret, which Chenoweth sung in Glee with Lea Michele. The chanteuse let her hair down, literally, and pitched her scrunchy to stage right, tossing her curls side-to-side . . . now this is a party, one fabulous musical fete. When she growled through some of the seductive melodies, listeners went insane with standing ovations, cat calls and whistles.

There was plenty of witty kitsch for those that wanted some quirky theatricality. In "Going to the Dance With You" one foxy cowboy portrayed a horse which she rode on, and the other got down in all fours as a stool for a high-heeled, no-flats shoe fad spoof for "In These Shoes?" And when the men danced off the stage hand-in-hand pretending to be gay (or not, who knows), Chenoweth quipped, "This happened, no joke."

"Popular" in Japanese, German, Dutch and whatever other language she found on YouTube, a pretend phone call to and an ode to Dolly Parton with "What Would Dolly Do?," an Avenue Q puppet comedic skit and a sneak peek at the late Donna Summer disco tribute duet for American Idol with finalist Jessica Sanchez . . . that was icing on the cupcake.

Chenoweth delivered her strongest message: Although she was an entertainer, she wished to leave her mark in the world through her charitable work.

But if I had to single out one favorite moment, I couldn't. There wasn't just one.

Though written for a tenor for the character of Jean Valjean, "Bring Him Home" from Les Miserables, or "The Misfits," as her mom used to say, evinced her operatic training, delicious control and vast array of vocal colors, all while nodding to her "controversial," unapologetic Christian values. "From This Rock" brought the audience to their feet.

No one in the hall was convinced that the impromptu duet performance of "For Good" from Wicked with a 19-year-old concertgoer chosen at random wasn't planted, albeit it was unscripted.

And it was in the encore, a nostalgic guitar-accompanied version of "I Will Always Love You" as first penned by Parton that honored Whitney Houston, when Chenoweth delivered her strongest message: Although she was an entertainer, she wished to leave her mark in the world through her charitable work.

With that, Chenoweth surely left a strong mark in Houston. No one will forget this performance.

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Movie Review

Safe cracking takes center stage in new heist movie Tuner

Photo courtesy of Black Bear

Leo Woodall in Tuner.

Of all the ways that movies depict people trying to steal money and other valuables, safe cracking is among the least exciting. By design, it’s a laborious process that only those with a very certain set of skills can do. While clever editing and the right music can enhance scenes of safes being cracked, there’s a reason that the method is among the least used in heist films.

In the new film Tuner, Niki (Leo Woodall) has a job and a condition that just happens to lend itself well to committing that specific crime. He works as an apprentice piano tuner for Harry (Dustin Hoffman), usually doing the hard work while Harry schmoozes the client. Niki is well-suited for the job because he has a rare condition called hyperacusis, which makes him both sensitive to loud noises and able to hear subtle things that others cannot.

When he runs across a trio of criminals trying to break open a safe at a house where he’s tuning a piano, he helps them more out of frustration than avarice. But when Harry goes into the hospital and racks up huge bills, Niki decides to join the group to make some quick money. They soon want more than he’s willing to give, and he must find a way to extricate himself from them without losing himself completely.

Written and directed by documentary filmmaker Daniel Roher (making his narrative feature debut) and co-written by Robert Ramsey, the film has a nice pace to it despite there being relatively little action. Roher and Ramsey spend the first third or so establishing Niki, Harry, and Harry’s wife Marla (Tovah Feldshuh) as characters, letting the audience understand their relationships and how they interact with each other.

The time they devote to the personal storytelling pays dividends when Niki starts to descend into crime, as his divided loyalties — not to mention the danger of the thefts — insert tension into the plot. That stress is heightened even more when Niki starts a relationship with piano student Ruthie (Havana Rose Liu), as getting closer to her necessitates a series of lies.

There comes a point, though, where the plot stagnates to a degree. Niki’s end goal, if he has one, is never clear, and it’s obvious that it’s only a matter of time before things start to fall apart. After starting strong in their character development, Roher and Ramsey take shortcuts as the film rushes toward its conclusion. This is most notable in a weird argument scene between Niki and Ruthie that comes out of nowhere and seems to serve no purpose in the story.

Woodall, who had a memorable turn in season 2 of The White Lotus, is on the cusp of breaking out, and this understated-but-compelling lead role should help him become an even bigger name in Hollywood. Hoffman has a small role, but he remains as interesting as ever despite the lack of screentime. Liu (Bottoms) is also an up-and-coming actor who should become a star with more roles like this one.

Tuner is a low-key thriller that succeeds because of the way the filmmakers approach the under-used method of robbery. Even if it doesn’t quite reach its potential, the film maintains a high quality throughout thanks to its storytelling and acting.

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Tuner is now playing in theaters.

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