Nicholas Nickleby, Or, How I Survived Seven Hours of Dickens

In his play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, Tom Stoppard has one of the title characters explode at a band of travelling tragedians, who make their living by performing heart-tugging plays with endings full of corpses.   “Actors!” he snaps. “The mechanics of cheap melodrama! That isn’t death! You scream…

If I can (buh-buh!) make it there…

The “I-love-New-York-or-some-neighbourhood-thereof” song seems to be a staple of most musicals set in or around New York City (with the possible exception of Rent, which has instead an “I-love-Santa-Fe-because-New-York-sucks” song). Anyway, I won’t bore you with Sinatra or Kelly or even Daddy Warbucks. Instead, I will bore you with pictures.…