Jeremy Piven was looking well at the Golden Globe awards last night. Seemingly recovered from his recent suspicious mercury poisoning, he told an interviewer that the illness just left him like really wiped-out, man.

New tidbits about the Jeremy Piven-destroys-Broadway story keep coming. "Mercury-filled sushi made him sick!" "Wrong! He quit early because he parties too hard!" Etc. Now an insider with the show, Speed-the-Plow, has provided some details.

Hollywood community, Jeremy Piven is very disappointed in you. Why have you refrained from rallying around the actor as he suffers so dearly from mononucleosis... er, we mean "self-inflicted sushi poisoning"?

If ever David Mamet had justification to launch one of his famous, profanity-studded tirades, the news that Jeremy Piven had abruptly (and weirdly) quit his play Speed-the-Plow would certainly seem to fit the bill.

Camelot is over! No one can pay their Rent! The West Side Story these days is that lots of Broadway shows are closing! Ahem. Yes, lots of big glittery plays and musicals are shutting their doors forever because of this creepy, kooky economy. One of the big Goliaths to fall last week was Mel Brooks' much-maligned Young Frankenstein, which will put on the Ritz one last time on January 4th. Thing is, no one's really all that sad to see it go. The show was anticipated like crazy—the Brooks pedigree! Remember The Producers? What a crazy, million Tony-winning smash that was!—and priced accordingly. Premium tickets (a rotten idea pioneered by Brooks and Co. when Producers hit big) reached excesses of $400, group sales seats (bread n' butter, folks) were drastically limited, and, perhaps worst of all, the critics seemed pretty fed up with the whole endeavor. Acidic word-of-mouth spread throughout the industry, from creative types to tour directors, and the show was marked (perhaps not entirely fairly) an arrogant, dead-on-arrival failure. Don't piss off the theatre queens and the cigar-chomping tour company people! They're vicious! The New York Times details the story today, getting show producer Robert F.X. Sillerman to sheepishly admit: “What they perceived as our arrogance was nothing more or less than my ignorance.” Oh, sad. Though, we're not sure we believe that! Sillerman goes on to add that the show will recoup its investment, though just barely. And, well, given the show's astronomical ($11 million to mount, $600,000 a week to keep up) budget, we're not sure we believe that either.

As the stock market continues its long, thumping swan dive into the terrible abyss, sometimes we just need lights! and costumes! and songs! and gay people! to cheer us up. Well, you'll be hard pressed to find such spectacle on the old Broadway come January, as three popular musicals will be shuttering in the next few months. Duncan Sheik's sex 'n pop rock ode Spring Awakening just announced their January 19th closing today, coming pretty quickly after bebop drag show Hairspray and Monty Python mug fest Spamalot made similar announcements. It's just sad proof that this looming recession reaches into even the silliest parts of the American experience. I guess you'll just have to watch TV now or something. I know. I know.

[Actress Sarah Jessica Parker with her husband Matthew Broderick at the Broadway Voices for Change Benefit Concert, which she hosted, last night; image via INF]

The latest Broadway revival of Arthur Miller's All My Sons opened last night! It stars John Lithgow and Patrick Wilson, who some are saying are quite good, Oscar winner Dianne Wiest, maybe a bit off, and some girl named Katie Holmes. As she's a newcomer to the Broadway scene, and is apparently married to some sort of mega moviestar turned Scientologist crazy named "Tom Cruise," let's take a moment to at look the top critics' takes on this exciting new starlet's big bow. Ben Brantley of the New York Times seems to think she's trying just a bit too hard:

Remember Once, that exquisite little film about two unnamed Dubliners making beautiful music together? Well now it's going to be a Broadway musical. So. Yeah.

Click to viewBoomp3.com Well-liked movie star Tom Cruise took on the difficult task of escorting the greatest actress in the history of Broadway, Katie Holmes, out for dinner in New York City the other night. Cruise made sure that his beloved significant other wore an outfit similar to his, so they would not get lost in the blinding darkness of 42nd street. Cruise felt the matching shiny suits would help reflect the light in the night as the twosome slowly moved into their awaiting SUV. Cruise said, “I would be so lost if I ever lost my beloved in the big city. That’s why I have to keep such a tight hold of her.” [Photo Credit: INF Daily] *A Call To The Bullpen is a work of fiction. Although the pictures we use are most certainly real, Defamer does not purport that any of the incidents or quotations you see in this piece actually happened. Lighten up, people ... it's a joke.

"Some wore masks like in the movie V for Vendetta, and one poster read: 'FREE KATIE.'" [AP]

Curious about the Broadway debut of Katie Holmes, actor and Scientologist Tom Cruise's earthling bride? Or, more importantly, are you curious about what Tom Cruise is like in an enclosed space? A theatre insider tipster sent us the following report from an exclusive invite-only dress rehearsal performance of All My Sons, set to open very very soon:

Click to viewBoomp3.com Doting stage husband Tom Cruise was on pins and needles as he watched his ladylove, Katie Holmes, go through her final dress rehearsal of All My Sons. Cruise admitted that his nerves got the best of him during the performance tonight. “It was just so moving and profound," he said. "It felt like I was giving birth. My water may have broke right before the second act. It was that beautiful.” Cruise went to give Holmes her traditional post-performance hug and a firm handshake, but Holmes opted for the firm handshake instead. [Photo Credit: Splash Pics] *A Call To The Bullpen is a work of fiction. Although the pictures we use are most certainly real, Defamer does not purport that any of the incidents or quotations you see in this piece actually happened. Lighten up, people ... it's a joke.

Click to viewBoomp3.com Popular significant other to the stars Katie Holmes appeared to be melancholy after leaving rehearsal for her play, All My Sons. When asked, “Why so glum, sugar plum?”, Holmes replied that she didn’t know where to start. Holmes was mostly upset that nobody admired the Grease inspired pants she wore today. Holmes said, “ My pants look like the ones Sandy wears at the end of Grease. I wore it because, you know, it's dress like your favorite character from a play day. Nobody noticed. Everybody made a big fuss over Dianne Wiest dressing like Laura from The Glass Menagerie, but nothing for me.” Holmes felt that the best remedy for her blues may be to go over to Brooklyn and crawl into a big bowl of mac & cheese. [Photo Credit: Splash Pics] *A Call To The Bullpen is a work of fiction. Although the pictures we use are most certainly real, Defamer does not purport that any of the incidents or quotations you see in this piece actually happened. Lighten up, people ... it's a joke.

When Rent first premiered on Broadway, the musical—a rock and roll mishmash polemic about New York City's poor bohemian youth, the AIDS epidemic, and the struggle and ultimate power of being oneself ("faggots, lezzies, dykes," whatever)—it seemed destined to get fabulous acclaim and burn out quickly. The acclaim most certainly arrived, Rent won a whole slew of Tonys and, indeed, the Pulitzer Prize for drama (so rarely awarded to musical works). But its longevity was a true surprise. The mythos surrounding its sexy young cast and the untimely death of the show's creator, Jonathan Larson, helped (along with crazed, devoted legions of "Rentheads") the show power through 12 years at the Nederlander on 41st street. It closed just last night. I managed to catch its penultimate performance on Saturday. I first saw Rent when I was 13 years old, at the Shubert theater in Boston. It was the first touring company, and they ended up doing a heavily extended six month run. I saw it five times with various combinations of friends. I saw it twice more when it returned in 2000 (17 years old, a little more cynical), sleeping overnight in front of the theater for $20 first or second row rush seats. So I was familiar, in a very distinct sense and muscle memory way, with the junk pile of a set that looms on stage when you walk in, that giddy feeling you have knowing that it will soon be warmed and lit up. I was soaking wet from the hurricane or tropical storm or whatever that passed through, and felt appropriately bedraggled in the Nederlander, which was completely overhauled, and yet distressed, when the show came in. I got a tiny and expensive little glass of red wine and asked the bartender what was coming in next. "Guys and Dolls," he said grumpily. A standing ovation greeted the cast as they walked out on stage at the top of the show. When they launched into the first salvo of sing-speaking and then the barnstormer song, "Rent," it was both pleasantly familiar and also a little off. The cast seemed a bit tired, as did the seats and the walls and even that trusty junky set. Or maybe it was just me, now maybe feeling too wet and too cold to really enjoy anything. Plus I was alone and still drinking the sad little wine and maybe feeling older and a little less bedazzled by these colorful young people's hyperbolic emotions. The performances were all fine, though some folks were a bit miscast. Mimi was a beautiful singer but too operatic for the scratchy, desperate role. Roger was even more melodramatic than usual, and Mark even more detached and forgettable. Eden Espinosa (from Wicked and that unfortunate Bklyn: The Musical) played a fun, chipper, kinda wholesome Maureen and Tracie Thoms, from the ughhhh movie version, was a strong and sexy Joanne. A couple of the original chorus members were back, which was fun to see but also a little...depressing. Things picked up as the first act zipped along (faster than I remembered), "Another Day" and "Christmas Bells" particular highlights. And then came the rainy and smoky intermission and the cast walking out in a line to sing "Seasons of Love," met by another standing ovation (getting tired from standing) and the death-filled, downer tumble of the second act ("Without You" was still lovely, if oversung). By the time the reliably stirring finale was belted, I admit I was won over all over again—if not by this particular cast and slightly wrong tempo and definite datedness of the material, certainly by the old, bittersweet, inclusive spirit of the show, still alive in the audience of, I'm guessing, mostly longtime devotees. Though my seatmates were newbies. I met Debbie, a woman who had seen the movie and loved its soundtrack. When her husband passed away two years ago, she took comfort in the soundtrack's (yes a bit hokey by now, but still something good and hopeful) message of survival and rememberance and weathering all things as best as one can. She said she loved the show and was very glad she'd finally stopped procrastinating and bought the ticket. To my right were Lily and TJ, two precocious 13-year-olds (the cirrrcle of liiiife). Both devoted theatre fans (I believe they said they'd seen Gypsy, which is sorta heavy stuff for their age, no?), TJ had seen Rent on stage before, while Lily had only seen the film. She said they were "obsessed" with the soundtrack. Throughout the show she rocked back and forth, sat as far forward in her seat as she could, and occasionally grabbed TJ and whispered something to him. She seemed rapt and enamored, and I felt briefly jealous that I couldn't enjoy the thing for the first time again. But I was glad that she could. After the long (and blessedly final) standing ovation, I turned to ask the kids' what their final impressions were. But they'd already disappeared into the crush of people cramming their way out of the theater. In some ways I was glad I didn't get to ask them. If they'd said something not so good I think I would have been crushed. I prefer to assume they loved it as I did when I was 13 and feeling revolutionary. And though I had maybe seen something not that good that night, I was still happy I'd made the effort one last time. The show will live on for years and years in tours and awkward, wobbly college productions, but here (and at the New York Theatre Workshop downtown) was where it had first bloomed and flourished. 12 years of "today," now ceding, finally, to tomorrow.

It didn’t take long for Katie Holmes to prove she cannot compare to Nicole Kidman when it comes to Broadway appeal. Months before she even sets foot on stage, Tom Cruise’s replacement wife is striking out at the box office, managing to sell only $1 million worth of advance tickets to her September theatrical effort in All My Sons. That may sound like a decent take in the world of steadily declining Broadway sales, but it doesn’t even come close to Kidman’s number, which was $4 million. So why the distant gap in interest between seeing Holmes hack through Arthur Miller and Kidman feign sex live? It’s not just a matter of full-frontal cartwheels...

Variety reports in typically sycophantic fashion that Harvey Weinstein will bring some of his greatest movie hits to Broadway-starting with Finding Neverland in 2010, followed by a stage version of Pink Floyd's The Wall, Shakespeare in Love, Chocolat, Cinema Paradiso, and Shall We Dance. Weinstein and his brother have "mega" TV plans too. The film producer's entertainment interests-which range from movies to reality television, online social networks, fashion and the theater-seems impressive both in breadth and the financial confidence they would indicate. But don't be fooled.

Go figure: It turns out the jilted, crazy wife of Shubert Organization President Philip Smith, who aired their messy divorce battle on YouTube, has a long history of turbulent relationships and public flame-outs involving mostly men. Judging from the profile that just appeared in New York, the wife, Tricia Walsh-Smith, has done two sensible things in her life, starting with her lucrative appearance in close to 500 television commercials, including the Hellmann's mayonnaise ad pictured at left. She also wrote and starred in a popular play in Britain called Bonkers, about "a bulimic ex-model whose husband is always having affairs." Everything else has been kind of a disaster, particularly her many breakups:

Toronto, proving once again that it is a city ahead of its time when it comes to zombie creativity, is currently hosting an onstage musical version of the classic, terrible 1981 zombiesploitation flick Evil Dead. To advertise the show their agency is making zombie-themed versions of posters from popular Broadway shows. Any excuse to make the theater more friendly to the undead is worthwhile. Pictured, a Les Miserables ripoff; and after the jump, a Hairspray version.

So Katie Holmes' long-running negotiations to come to Broadway have finally borne fruit, and the wife of Tom Cruise is now officially committed to take on some sort of role in a revival of Arthur Miller's All My Sons this fall. The Church of Scientology is a just a few blocks away from the theater, the Observer noted, and at least one tabloid report has hubby Tom tagging along for the duration of Holmes' season in New York, presumably in case she needs some more reprogramming. Holmes, meanwhile, is intent on escaping Cruise's shadow and reinvigorating her acting career. And maybe, you know, saving a few accident victims around town, since there's no one else who can really do anything. [Variety via Observer]