‘Sunset Boulevard’ is returning to Broadway this spring, with the same magnificent woman who originated the role of Norma Desmond in its American inception: Glenn Close. Twenty years ago, my Mom and I sat in the last row of the Minskoff Theatre and watched Ms. Close bring the mansion down in splendid fashion, and now we are set to return to the house on Sunset in the next year. (I’ve been holding off on posting anything, as the tickets were a surprise Christmas gift. We shall pair them with ‘War Paint’ on our annual Broadway trip in the spring.)
It is a fitting moment for a ‘Sunset’ post, as I usually put up a ‘Perfect Year’ homage for New Year’s Eve. That scene remains my favorite in the musical version, for reasons already explained here. Yes, it’s the scene that keeps on giving, and I’ll always be touched by it. Even as my cynicism grows, and fewer and fewer people seem to get it, my heart still believes in that moment, in the moment of hopeful, wistful love. My head now knows better, but my heart still doesn’t. And I will never be sorry for that folly.
