Michael Appler When Nicole Scherzinger entered her dressing room at the St. James Theatre on Sunday afternoon, accompanied by an entourage befitting a Pussycat Doll-turned Broadway diva, a bouquet of roses awaited her.
It was opening night of “Sunset Boulevard,” and any Norma Desmond preparing to open the breakout Broadway show of the season should expect her lavishing of gifts and florals.
But Sunday, beside the roses on the dressing room table, sat a handwritten note. It was from Glenn Close. For Scherzinger, the gesture was unexpected and overwhelming.
For all the adulation she’d received in the West End—where, truly, Londoners tripped over themselves to see director Jamie Lloyd’s bare and bloody re-envisioning of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s classic—the singer had never spoken to Close, Patti LuPone, or any of the leading ladies who’ve embodied this highest role of diva worship. “The truth is,” she told Variety in the quiet aftermath of Sunday’s opening night, “the role is mine to make.” In Lloyd’s production—which strips the show (and Scherzinger) of any comfort, forcing its audience to spend two hours in the emptiness and terror of Desmond’s descent—there is no room for sentimentality. “Patti LuPone and Glenn Close are my idols,” Scherzinger told Variety. “But I haven’t spoken to them, because if this show is going to be real and authentic, it can only come from me.” And out from Scherzinger did Demsond roar.
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