By Harry Haun
29 Sep 2006

A pair of lyricists-directors at the opening—David Zippel and Barry Kleinbort—praised Johnson’s ways of words (even if they didn’t rhyme). Zippel, who had a highly lyrical night at Merkin Hall last Monday, was with one of his featured singers, Anna Bergman, who had great luck that evening with “The Ingenue,” a song Zippel wrote with Wally Harper for Barbara Cook, and “The Measure of Love,” a song from a so-far-unproduced Larry Gelbart-Cy Coleman musical about Napoleon Bonaparte (titled, sans period, N).

One of the eight producers of The Two and Only!, Stewart F. Lane, said that he’s saving his Palace for the incoming Legally Blonde. He is also a published landlord-producer: In the spring, Heinemann is bringing out his latest tome, "Let’s Put on a Show," a how-to-do-just-that guide for the theatrically inclined Mickeys-and-Judys of this century.

Glenn Young, about to start a new publishing list, was singing Johnson’s praises at the party. “To think that many characters could come out of one amazing mind and body staggers the imagination,” he said. “You start out thinking it’s sort of a nightclub act, and then, as it goes on, you’re brought in closer and closer, and pretty soon you’re trapped.”

If there was a member of the audience—not from the immediate or extended family—that glowed with particular pride on opening night, it was Jay Sandrich, the television director who hired Johnson for “Soap” (even if it mean breaking up Johnson’s existing act with the sweet-faced Squeaky and replacing him with the smart-aleck Bob). “I know how hard it was to get the show to this stage,” relayed the other Jay, “and I’m thrilled for him. I was just saying to his folks it must have been interesting growing up with someone so creative. I didn’t know he could write so well when he was doing ‘Soap.’ He is such a sweet, wonderful person, then he got the character of Bob in his hands, and Bob would say things that Jay would never even think of. That made Jay such a joy to work with.”

Conspicuously absent from the opening-night bash was Bob, who hoped Lucy the Slut would bob by from Avenue Q. A half a block wouldn’t have killed her. Who did she think she was? Ann-Margret?