Last weekend, I saw the last showing of Billy Crystal's Tony Award Winning One Man autobiography called 700 Sundays, playing at the Canon Theatre. What an amazing performer he is, standing on stage and pouring his soul out for almost 3 hours as he relayed story after story about his years growing up in New York. His tales made you roar with laughter at one moment, and then choke back tears of emotion the next.
Billy Crystal's childhood was absolutely amazing as he got to grow up interacting with some of the Jazz legends of the times including Billy Holiday and Oscar Peterson, because of his father, uncle and grandfather's work in the music industry.
Surprisingly and perhaps admirably, the show focuses very little on Billy Crystal's own rise to fame in the entertainment industry. He glosses over that accomplishment in a mere sentence as he goes on to regale one anecdote after another about his beloved extended family, sometimes taking on their personnas to hilarious results.
The title "700 Sundays" refers to the early death of Billy's father when he was only 15, and reflects the approximate number of Sundays he got to spend with his dad before he died. His father worked hard during the week, but Sunday was the special day reserved for Billy and his brothers. His mother died a few years ago, which is probably what triggered him to write this show, as a cathartic tribute to those who are now gone.
Perhaps because it was the last show, Billy waited out the seemingly endless standing ovation so that he could make a final speech at the end. He talked about how how he purposely made Toronto his first stop in a continent-wide tour. He mentioned playing in the past at Massey Hall and how he felt the floor boards creak with ghosts of past Jazz greats and how he felt an affinity to Toronto.
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