“Theater. Cocktails. Chaos.”
Come for the theater. Stay for the drinks. Regret nothing.
Conducts orchestras and conversations with equal intensity. Knows when you're flat—musically and emotionally.
Equal parts charm, chaos, and jazz hands. If there’s a mic, Aaron will find it.
Knows everyone. Knows everything. Will absolutely tell you after one martini.
Delivers both performances and cocktails with devastating precision.
Writes the chaos. Lives the chaos. Occasionally survives the chaos.
The idea didn’t start inside the theater.
It started in a parking lot.
On a balmy Boca Raton evening, five friends—Eric Alsford, Aaron Bower, Leah Sessa, Michael Hunsaker, and Conor Walton—had decided to do something a little different before heading into The Wick Theatre to see My Way.
Instead of meeting at the bar inside, Leah had a better idea.
“Why are we paying $18 for drinks,” she said, popping open the trunk of her SUV, “when I have a full setup right here?”
Inside was a surprisingly well-stocked mini bar—plastic cups, a shaker, citrus slices, and at least three bottles no one remembered her buying.
Conor let out a low whistle. “This is… aggressive.”
“This,” Leah corrected, already pouring, “is prepared.”
They gathered around the open trunk, music lightly playing from someone’s phone, the glow of the theater marquee just visible in the distance. Other patrons passed by, some giving curious glances, others clearly jealous.
Eric took a sip, immediately launching into a rant about the musical arrangements he expected to hear inside. Aaron countered with a passionate defense of cabaret-style performance. Michael started breaking down how he would stage a Sinatra revue if given the chance.
And Conor, leaning casually against the bumper, watched it all unfold with a grin.
“You realize,” he said, “this is exactly what people do before a football game, right?”
They paused.
Leah lowered the shaker. “What, drink?”
“No,” Conor said. “This. The arguing. The predictions. The strong opinions no one asked for.”
Aaron laughed. “Oh my god… we’re tailgating.”
“For theater,” Michael added, the idea already taking shape.
Eric snapped his fingers. “We could actually do this. Break down shows like games—music, performances, direction—”
“And keep it fun,” Aaron said. “Not stuffy. Like commentary you actually want to hear.”
“Breaking down Broadway like game day.”
“Before the curtain rises… we’ve already got opinions.”
Leah raised her cup. “With better drinks.”
Conor grinned. “Theater Tailgaters.”
There it was again—that pause.
The kind where everyone knows.
They all looked at each other, the hum of the parking lot around them, the theater doors just beginning to open in the distance.
Michael lifted his drink. “Alright. First official meeting of the Theater Tailgaters.”
They clinked plastic cups in the glow of Leah’s trunk light.
And a few minutes later, when they finally made their way into The Wick Theatre to see My Way, they weren’t just going in as audience members anymore.
They were going in as commentators.
The show hadn’t even started yet—
—and already, they had something to say.
Feathers, sequins, and enough costume changes to make your head spin—the Tailgaters take on The Cher Show at The Wick Theatre. From triple-casting Cher to the parade of iconic hits, the crew breaks down whether this production delivers superstar spectacle—or just glitzy overload. Do all three Chers shine equally? Are the vocals turning back time, or just going through the motions? And how much rhinestone is too much rhinestone?
Grab a drink, pop the trunk, and let’s talk divas—because this tailgate is serving pure Cher energy.
The Tailgaters take a sharp turn from spectacle to substance as they unpack Prayer for the French Republic at GableStage. Spanning generations and grappling with identity, belonging, and rising antisemitism, this production sparks a conversation that’s as urgent as it is intimate. The crew dives into the performances, the shifting timelines, and the question at the heart of it all: what does it mean to feel safe in a place you call home? Is the storytelling as powerful as its message? Do the personal moments land as strongly as the political ones? And how do you even begin to “review” a show that hits this close to reality?
Grab a drink, pop the trunk, and lean in—because this tailgate is getting real.
A sparkling citrus champagne cocktail with elderflower liqueur and a sugared rim. Bright, celebratory, and the perfect first sip before the curtain rises.
A bold bourbon old fashioned with smoked orange peel and a touch of maple. Smooth, strong, and earned.
A refreshing mix of aperol, prosecco, and blood orange with a splash of soda. Light, bubbly, and ideal for mid-show gossip.
A deep red sangria with dark berries, brandy, and a hint of spice. Rich, moody, and meant to linger.
A glam vodka martini with a splash of lychee and edible shimmer. Extra? Absolutely. Necessary? Also yes.
A tropical rum punch with pineapple, lime, and grenadine—served in a big batch for sharing. Loud, fun, and a little chaotic… just like the best shows.
“Critiques with cocktails…
Because every show deserves a post-game.”
“The Theater Tailgaters podcast is the perfect blend of insight and entertainment—it doesn’t just review the show, it recreates the entire night out. By bringing the energy of tailgating into theater, it makes every performance feel like an event worth celebrating and debating. It’s smart, it’s hilarious, and it makes you wish every show came with a trunk and a drink.”
Steven Sondheim
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€ 999,00
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