‘Zelda’: The fitful life of a Fitz on the fritz

THEATER REVIEW

ZELDA AT THE OASIS
St. Luke's Theatre, 308 W. 46th St.; 212-239-6200. Running time: 80 minutes, no intermission.

It wasn't easy being Zelda Fitzgerald. The talented wife of "Great Gatsby" writer F. Scott Fitzgerald suffered from bipolar disorder, for which she was often institutionalized. Her marriage was tempestuous, her artistic ambitions mainly thwarted. She died at 47 in a fire at the sanitarium in which she was a patient.

Now, 64 years after her death, she must suffer the indignity of "Zelda at the Oasis," a scattershot biographical portrait.

P.H. Lin's play depicts Zelda (Gardner Reed, in her New York stage debut), looking like an aging flapper, whiling away the night in an after-hours New York City watering hole in 1934. The only other soul in the place is the weary Bar Man (Edwin Cahill), who has no idea that his sole patron is the famous Zelda.

Carol Rosegg

Gardner Reed (right) as Zelda, with Edwin Cahill, who plays all the men in her life — as well as a couple of women.

"Have you any idea who I am?" she inquires.

When he professes his ignorance, she declares, "I am all things new and modern!" So much for the hoary dialogue.

Eventually, the hard-drinking Zelda drifts into memories of her tumultuous life in a series of flashbacks in which the barkeep becomes such figures as F. Scott, a cub reporter, a doctor, Ernest Hemingway and Zelda's French lover. He also shows up in drag as a Russian dance instructor and Zelda's mother.

The major events of Zelda's brief life are dutifully ticked off in anecdotal, depth-free proceedings. The playwright tries to flesh out the bartender character by making him an aspiring songwriter. That mirrors Zelda's frustrated ambition to become a dancer, signaled here by her frantically breaking into a series of ballet steps.

Zelda never comes to life here despite Reed's impressively brave performance. Cahill fares less well, although it's doubtful any actor could play so many disparate characters convincingly.

Director Andy Sandberg is adrift in his handling of the play's ever-shifting modes, although Colin McGurk's set and Dustin Cross' costumes provide the perfect period atmosphere.

"So, are you going to refill my spirit?" Zelda asks the Bar Man early in the evening. It's a poignant request that is never quite answered in this empty vessel of a play.

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Starr Report

Michael Starr

Blog: TV

Veteran TV producer Ed. Weinberger is returning to the small screen next month with TV One's new sitcom, "Belle's," starring Keith David, Elise Neal, Tami Roman, Ella Joyce and Miguel Nunez (who co-created the show and will also executive-produce).

The show centers around William "Big Bill" Cooper (David), who owns and operates his family's upscale soul-food restaurant with his daughter Jill (Neal) and his sister-in-law (Joyce) — while his other daughter, Loreta (Roman) is described as a "self-absorbed prima donna" who's trying to decide between a career in the music biz and snaring a rich husband. "Belle's" will premiere Monday, Jan. 21 (10 p.m.).

Getty Images for Centric

Elise Neal

Weinberger's resume includes "Taxi," "The Cosby Show," "The Dean Martin Variety Hour," "Amen" and "Dear John," among many others.

Meanwhile, S. Epatha Merkerson will be in The Bronx next week to film an episode of TV One's "Find Our Missing," which returns for its second season Jan. 9. The show's stated goal is "to put names and faces to people of color who have disappeared without a trace." One of the cases will involve the disappearance of a Hunter College student last seen leaving the Port Authority.

* * *

"Mob Wives" stars Karen Gravano, Renee Graziano and Ramona Rizzo will at "Operation Mob Wives Saving Lives," taking place Dec. 14 at Chelsea Manor (138 West. 25th). It's sponsored by LaChic Media & JustJenn Productions, with a special performance by Judy Torres.

Meanwhile, another "Mob Wives" star, Drita D'Avanzo, will introduce MHP's 8-hour Alert Energy supplement this Saturday at the GNC in the Garden State Plaza (Paramus, NJ) from 1 to 3 p.m. She'll also be publicizing her charity, Single But Not Alone, which provides fundraising for single-parent households; Drita will be giving a single mom-in-need a gift certificate to buy winter clothes and Christmas gifts for her kids.

* * *

Carmen Electra is making the talk show rounds tomorrow — appearing on VH1's "The Morning Buzz Live," "The Wendy Williams Show" and "Anderson Live" before heading over to XL Nightclub to premiere her new single, "I Like It Loud" at photographer Steve Ruiz's benefit birthday party. Proceeds from the party will benefit The Ali Forney Center, which helps LGBT homeless youth and supports them.

* * *

Last, but not least:

* That was wealth manager Michelle Smith and CNBC regular Alexandra Lebenthal welcoming 30 high-powered New Yorkers to their Ladies Poker Night at Maserati of Manhattan (in Tribeca) Monday night. CNBC cameras covered the event . . . "Access Hollywood Live," hosted by Billy Bush and Kit Hoover, was up 25 percent last month on Ch. 4, here in New York, over its Nov. 2011 numbers.

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‘Mice’ roars

THEATER REVIEW

OF MICE AND MEN
Baruch Performing Arts Center, 55 Lexington Ave.; 212-352-3101. Through Saturday. Running time: 135 minutes, one intermission.

Kevin Kline, Patti LuPone, Frances Conroy: They're just a few of the actors who began their careers touring with the Acting Company. That long list of illustrious alumni may one day include Joseph Midyett and Christopher Michael McFarland, judging from their powerful performances in the troupe's stirring revival of "Of Mice and Men."

First seen on Broadway in 1937, John Steinbeck's classic concerns migrant workers George (Midyett) and Lennie (McFarland), who've just shown up at a California ranch, desperate for jobs. George — small and fast-talking — has assumed the role of protector for the hulking, dimwitted Lennie, whose childlike love of petting soft things frequently gets him into trouble.

They immediately find themselves at odds with the ranch owner's hotheaded son, Curley (Michael McDonald), who's clearly threatened by the constant male attention his wife (Megan Bartle) seems to crave. While George tries to stay clear of her, Lennie mainly dreams of the pair someday owning a farm where he can tend to his beloved rabbits. But his inability to control his massive strength has fateful consequences.

Director Ian Belknap's stark production, performed on a mostly bare, wooden-planked set, brings the play's elemental themes to stunning dramatic life. Beautifully realized are such moments as when an aging ranch hand (Joseph Tisa) reluctantly agrees to allow his mangy old dog to be shot, in a scene foreshadowing the play's tragic conclusion.

McFarland is deeply affecting as the mentally damaged man-child, while Midyett superbly depicts both George's deep love and his frustration at having to care for his friend.

"When I think of the sweet time I'd have without you, I go nuts," he bitterly tells Lennie, but you can tell he doesn't quite mean it.

The supporting ensemble fulfill their roles expertly, with particularly fine efforts by Tisa as the ranch-hand who dreams of throwing in with the pair and Yaegal T. Welch as the black stable-hand who chafes at being ostracized by his fellow workers.

This superb production runs only through Saturday before touring the country. If you can't catch it now, look for its return run at the New Victory Theater March 1 to 10.

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Note to Stones: Stop rolling!

When the Rolling Stones take the stage at Barclays Center on Saturday for the first of three US concerts marking their 50th anniversary — which follow a pair of similar shows in London last month — it's a safe bet that few of the fans who witnessed the group's first American appearance in 1964 will be there to greet them.

In those days, the audiences for the self-styled "World's Greatest Rock and Roll Band" were made up almost entirely of screaming teenage girls. When the group appeared at Carnegie Hall, a matinee performance (yes, in those days pop groups gave matinee performances) was stopped after three songs because fans got out of control.

The band today, Jagger, Richards, Ronnie Wood and Watts, looks ready for a spot of tea.

These days, the only screams the group will be likely to attract from teenagers are ones emitted in horror. Meanwhile, older fans may well let out their own shrieks of disbelief at the prices being charged for the anniversary shows.

At the box office, tickets for the sold-out Barclays show, and a pair of others to follow at the Prudential Center in Newark, went for about $100 for the nosebleed seats up to about $750 — well more than $800 once you tack on Ticketmaster's "convenience charge." Then there are the various "VIP Packages," which in Newark topped out at a staggering $2,450.

Of course there's a lot of expense to cover: For their total of five shows in Britain and America, the Stones are reportedly being paid about $25 million.

Not that any of this comes as a surprise. They may be long spent as a creative force, but the Stones are a thriving corporation, steered by a CEO — Mick Jagger — who's demonstrated a mix of shrewdness and business acumen that makes him the peer of any strait-laced captain of industry.

We can put aside Jagger's blithe explanation that when it comes to ticket prices the group is merely a hapless victim of market forces — or Ronnie Wood's shrugging dismissal that, "We've got to make something." The Stones long ago set the benchmark for shameless cynicism when it comes to exploiting "the brand." Among the luxury items on offer when the box set of "Exile on Main Street" was released two years ago was a limited-edition box of three lithographs, "signed individually by Mick, Keith or Charlie," priced at $2,500.

If that's too rich for your blood, you might opt for the "Brussels Affair" box set that Ticketmaster is offering bundled with Barclays tickets for a relatively paltry $863.

By one account, the biggest crush of the opening-night concert at London's O2 Arena was not at the front of the stage, but at the merchandising stand, where eager customers were spending more than $300 on a poster of a gorilla's face — the artwork on the cover of the band's new greatest hits album, "Grrr!"

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Glittering ‘Golden age’ is a diva-ine comedy

THEATER REVIEW

GOLDEN AGE
Manhattan Theatre Club, 131 W. 55th St.; 212-581-1212. Through Jan. 6. Running time: 145 minutes, one intermission.

Opera has been very good to Terrence McNally. He scored one of his biggest hits with "Master Class," inspired by Maria Callas' infamous voice lessons. "Golden Age," which opened last night, isn't on that level, but it's still the playwright's liveliest effort in years.

Not that we actually hear much music here, since the show is a backstage comedy: Characters don't sing so much as talk about singing.

The backstage in question, elegantly re-created by set designer Santo Loquasto, is in a Paris theater during the premiere of Vincenzo Bellini's opera "I Puritani," in 1835.

Joan Marcus

Lee Pace, as opera composer Vincenzo Bellini, and Bebe Neuwirth, as a Spanish diva, sparkle in "Golden Age."

Bellini (Lee Pace) is surrounded by his stars, who fret, gloat, emote and pout. And that's when they're not onstage.

The heavier emotional baggage is hoisted by two guests: Spanish diva Maria Malibran (Bebe Neuwirth), who's over the hill but still charismatic, and Bellini's patron and lover, Francesco Florimo (Will Rogers).

These two embody the play's more serious side, with chatter about art and death, love and legacy. Fellow composer Rossini (F. Murray Abraham until next Tuesday, then George Morfogen) even puts in a reflective cameo.

But the mood turns to full-on comedy whenever the "Puritani" crew is on, with its barbed but affectionate bickering.

After Bellini tells baritone Antonio Tamburini (Lorenzo Pisoni) that he was "just a hair flat at the first hemi-demi-semi-quaver," the singer smoothly replies, "I'm not a magician, Vincent. Silk from a sow's ear I cannot make."

Director Walter Bobbie brings the same comic flair he did in "The School for Lies," setting a brisk but unhurried tempo that's perfect for the farcical goings-on — a cucumber joke is straight out of "This Is Spinal Tap."

The timing is key, too, because the scenes coincide with arias from the opera in progress wafting through — Florimo's monologue about his love for Bellini coincides with an offstage aria in which the tenor, Giovanni Battista Rubini (Eddie Kaye Thomas), expresses his feelings for his wife-to-be.

Pace ("The Normal Heart," TV's "Pushing Daisies") has the debonair good looks of a golden-age Hollywood heartthrob. He elegantly underplays Bellini's exhilarated highs and his depressed lows, and his rapport with Neuwirth is tainted with lovely wistfulness.

But the play must end, and McNally chooses to resolve the diverging moods' push and pull in a bittersweet manner: The curtain comes down not just on "I Puritani," but on an entire era.

Suddenly, trouser-stuffing gags feel very far away.

elisabeth.vincentelli@nypost.com

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Bah! Humbug on B’way

Michael Riedel

It's a jolly holiday all over the city — except on Broadway, where many of the theaters are stuffed with coal.

What a dreadful fall theater season!

The flops are piling up faster than wrapping paper on Christmas morning. Box-office receipts are wilting like mistletoe in January. And the critics are meaner than the Grinch. (Did you see those reviews for "Dead Accounts"?)

Oh — and Al Pacino's still stumbling around in "Glengarry Glen Ross," which by my count is now into its third year of previews.

Let's hear it for Bloomberg's Jeremy Gerard, the only critic who thumbed his nose at the "Glengarry" postponement. Gerard wasn't buying the official line that, due to Hurricane Sandy, the cast needed nearly a month's more rehearsal time. And he was right. My sources say it was Hurricane Al who insisted on the delay because he couldn't get a handle on the play.

Noting that the producers are charging up to $377 for a seat during the protracted preview period, Gerard marched up to the box office, bought a ticket and filed a review last week.

His verdict: "stilted and self-conscious."

The producers feared his review would trigger a stampede of critics. That didn't happen; the critics are honoring the new opening date: Saturday. (Look for their reviews on Monday.)

Where's the outrage, I wondered!

And then I spoke to one of those critics: "Please! I've sat through enough bad theater lately. I'm in no rush."

He has a point.

"The Performers"?

Closed after seven performances.

"Chaplin"?

Closing Jan. 6 at a loss of nearly $10 million.

"Scandalous"?

I bow to no one in my admiration for Kathie Lee Gifford. She's a plucky showbiz survivor. But those grosses! Just $370,000 last week.

Greece is in better fiscal shape.

(This just in: "Scandalous" closes Sunday.)

But it's not all broken toys under the Christmas tree, and there are a couple of shows I can recommend for the holidays.

Top of my list — and tickets are available — is the Roundabout's delightful revival of "The Mystery of Edwin Drood."

The original 1985 production had a terrific cast — Betty Buckley, Cleo Laine, Howard McGillin and the late, great George Rose.

Rupert Holmes, who wrote the show, never thought he'd have a better cast. But the Roundabout came through with Jim Norton, Will Chase, Chita Rivera and Stephanie Block.

"I've now had two dream casts," Holmes recently told me on the set of PBS' "Theater Talk."

As anyone reading this column surely knows, the audience decides who the murderer is at the end of "Drood," which is based on Dickens' last, unfinished novel. Holmes says the selection usually goes in cycles, with one cast member being chosen for a run of about a week or so before the cycle changes and someone else gets a turn.

Sometimes, though, an actor will do something on the sly to make sure he or she gets picked. During the run of the original production, an actress playing Rosa Budd was voted the murderer nearly every night.

Holmes noticed she was slipping a knife up her sleeve when no one else in the cast was looking.

The current cast, by the way, is recording the show this month. The album will feature — for the first time — all eight of the murderers' confessions.

"Drood" is doing so well that the Roundabout has extended it until March 10.

Don't miss out on the fun.

Let me also put in a good word for "The Holiday Guys," a snappy and irreverent revue starring two Broadway vets, Jeffry Denman and Marc Kudisch. I love their bongo rendition of "Do You Hear What I Hear." The show runs for two weeks starting Dec. 18 at the York Theater.

And for a slightly creepy Christmas show, there's always "Sleep No More," still going strong at the McKittrick Hotel down on West 27th Street. After Saturday night's performance, the company is hosting the Carnival des Corbeaux, featuring musical and theatrical performances throughout the hotel, plus an open bar.

Happy — hiccup — holidays!

michael.riedel@nypost.com

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A few of our un-favorite things

Steve Cuozzo

Memo to the city's hard-working waiters and sommeliers:

Eating and drinking in your restaurants is about our "favorites," not yours. You are working. We are paying.

The year's most irksome service phenomenon is floor staff who try steering us to dishes we don't want, don't need or shouldn't be allowed in the room. Meanwhile, the "favorite" frenzy lets them avoid sharing what we actually need to know.

"Let me tell you my favorites" is to 2012 waiter shtick what "I'm Henry and I'll be your out-of-work bond trader tonight" was to the 1980s "American Psycho" age. Often, it's a push to unload whatever's sitting around the kitchen. If black bass is approaching its "sell by" date, count on it to be your waiter's No. 1 fave.

Gabi Porter

Waiters rave about the fried oysters at Pig and Khao, but they don't always check first if the "fave" dish is available.

At the new Lincoln Center edition of The Smith, I blundered into dry and dreary "15-hour pork" because — silly me — I trusted the waitress' excited endorsement. She said polenta included goat cheese and jalapeno; neither showed up.

The spiels can lead to teeth-gnashing frustration. My first time at Pig and Khao, Leah Cohen's delightful Southeast Asian bistro on Clinton Street, the waitress raved about oysters fried with sizzling garlic, ginger and chilies. They were a life-altering "must," she said.

Her sales pitch worked too well. We ordered oysters, panting with anticipation. She returned crestfallen, minutes later. The kitchen was out of them. Shouldn't they check before setting our salivary glands on fire?

Fancy Italian spots avoid the actual f-word, but pitch specials in such prolonged, lubricious detail that you're made to feel like a garlic-chomping gavone not to have them. Hello, Il Mulino Uptown, where the detail often omitted is the price. Red snapper was $50! Yes!

The "favorite" frenzy has spread to wine. A sommelier is supposed to make recommendations. But at both Bill's and Arlington Club, they practically insisted we have "organic," "biodynamic" reds even after I made clear that I can't stomach most of them.

Yet there's often no alerts about things we really need to know. No place bamboozled me as much as Animal in Los Angeles, which had just received an eight-page rave in The New Yorker (Yes, The New Yorker) when I ate there in 2010.

After the waiter promised that a chicken-liver-on-crostini affair included no onions whatsoever, it arrived as a jagged Mount Everest of fried onion strips. It differed from local fiascos only in degree.

Many places regard presentation as a house secret, to be shared only when you pry it out of the waiter (who often has to "check on that for you").

We wouldn't have ordered a side of fries at The Library at the Public had we been told that the burger one of us was having came with enough fries to feed the whole theater crowd downstairs. Nor would I have ordered a side of broccoli at Bill's had we known there was plenty of broccoli with my scallops.

When a dish departs wildly from what its name implies, it's incumbent on the crew to tip you off. I've had "spaghetti carbonara" — classically made only with eggs and cheese — laden not only with cream, but with the banal vegetables normally reserved for "primavera" victims.

Even the greatest restaurants neglect to warn you when familiar-sounding dishes are "deconstructed." I eat at Boulud Sud every chance I get. But when I asked for saltimbocca Romana, I had no idea that prosciutto would be presented separate from the veal, rather than atop or around it, or that sage would take the form of a few leaves atop the meat.

So do your jobs, guys. Just tell us what to expect. And save your "favorites" for your own nights out.

scuozzo@nypost.com

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‘Civil War Christmas’ sets you free

THEATER REVIEW

A CIVIL WAR CHRISTMAS
New York Theatre Workshop, 79 E. Fourth St.; 212-460-5475. Through Dec. 30. Running time: 150 minutes, one intermission.

Some Christmas tales are so straightforward and intimate, you can tell them around a fireplace with a cup of cocoa.

"A Civil War Christmas" isn't one of those stories.

Set in December 1864, Paula Vogel's sprawling play is made up of several storylines and even more characters — and it takes them a whopping 2 1/2 hours to finally converge. It's like "Short Cuts" or "Crash" but with Robert E. Lee, John Wilkes Booth and, of course, Abraham Lincoln — the hottest president of 2012, never mind that he's been dead 147 years.

But this endearing, occasionally trying play isn't about historical figures and what they did on the eve of the Civil War's last Christmas.

First, Vogel ("How I Learned To Drive") mixes and matches those names with equally real but lesser-known people such as Elizabeth Keckley (Karen Kandel), an African-American seamstress and friend of Mrs. Lincoln's (Alice Ripley, "Next to Normal").

Second, we're at New York Theatre Workshop, not Confederate Williamsburg, so this isn't a pageant but a fable. Intermingling with the likes of the 16th president (Bob Stillman) are fictional characters, notably Hannah (Amber Iman), an escaped slave trying to reach the White House with her young daughter, Jessa (Sumaya Bouhbal).

To get the little one going, Hannah sings "Follow the Drinking Gourd," a folk tune often associated with the Underground Railroad and one of the many traditional numbers that punctuate the show. Music director Andrew Resnick provides the bulk of the accompaniment on the piano, though cast members pick up a guitar here, a banjo there.

It's hard not to be touched by the plain beauty of these songs, especially since the actors are often in glorious voice — Iman, in particular, has a warm, burnished tone. Surprisingly, the single worst performance comes from Ripley, a Tony winner whose vibrato-laden "Silent Night" is like nails on chalkboard.

Between the interlocking stories, musical interludes and Vogel's taste for extraneous diversions — did we really need an encounter between a horse and a mule? — the show can drag, especially in its first act.

Thankfully, director Tina Landau ("Superior Donuts") proves to be an excellent juggler, gracefully keeping all her balls in the air.

And when the resolution comes, it's as sweet as we need it to be. It is, after all, a holiday show. Who wants gritty realism in that?

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Kuwait: the brothers lose (for now)

Amir Taheri

A plot by the Muslim Brotherhood to seize power in Kuwait through street politics appears to have been defeated — at least for now. On Saturday, Kuwait managed to hold a general election in the teeth of the Brotherhood's call for a total boycott.

True, the turnout, around 40 percent, was the lowest in a decade. But the results reflect the oil-rich country's ethnic, religious and political diversity.

Despite the boycott, the Brotherhood won four seats, as several prominent figures refused to toe the party line. Shiites, some 30 percent of the population, more than doubled their share of seats, from seven to 15. The new 50-seat parliament will have three women members, compared to none in the previous one.

A coalition of reformists and moderate Islamists has secured a majority, paving the way for a revision of the constitution to increase the powers of the parliament.

The United States has a national interest in a stable and democratic Kuwait. Since the American withdrawal from Saudi Arabia and Iraq, Kuwait has emerged as the principal base for US forces in the Persian Gulf.

Since the country's independence in 1960, Kuwaiti politics have been something of a curiosity in the Arab world — a mixture of electoral politics on the one hand and, on the other, traditional deals between the ruling Al Sabah family and its allies in tribal and merchant clans. For decades, the model proved flexible enough to weather numerous storms, including Iraqi invasions in 1960 and 1990.

Kuwait developed consensual politics in the 19th century, long before the oil bonanza. Timid but important steps toward broadening the base of decision-making came even before independence. The emergence of political, social and cultural clubs, the expansion of relatively free media and creative tension between parliament and government helped define a Kuwaiti brand of politics.

The country has differed from most other Arab countries in other ways. It has never had an opposition in exile, because dissidents are able to express their views at home, in the media and/or the parliament. Nor has Kuwait earned notoriety for imprisoning dissidents.

But Hadas, the Kuwaiti branch of the Brotherhood, is trying to inject a dose of insurrectionary tactics into the country's politics.

Hadas knows that Kuwait's demographic mix wouldn't allow it to secure the electoral victory needed for radical Islamization. There is no configuration under which Hadas could secure a straight majority.

Wisdom dictates that Hadas temper its lust for power. Indeed, the Brotherhood throughout the region should not try to bite off more than it can chew.

A decade ago, Sudanese politician Hassan al-Turabi spoke of his dream of Islamists capturing Kuwait and using its oil wealth to advance global jihad. That dream may still live in some heads in Kuwait and elsewhere.

Certainly, it's not difficult to play heroics in Kuwait, because you can be sure that, whatever you do in politics, nothing really bad will happen to you or your family. But this is why there is no need for street politics in Kuwait.

Yet reform would be prudent. The parliament has often been a kind of political souk, with members blackmailing ministers, and at times the whole Cabinet, and the government trying to advance its agenda by bribing parliamentarians.

The predominance of individual, clannish and sectarian interests has slowed down the emergence of a sense of common interest. That, in turn, has hampered decision-making.

The electoral system in place is far from flawless, and the absence of political parties encourages sectarianism.

And a great deal of corruption is built into the system. Not long ago, I was amazed to hear parliamentarians passionately demanding the cancellation of all debts up to a certain level — a move that could have bankrupted all Kuwaiti banks.

Cleaning the stables remains a major task.

Kuwait also faces a tricky succession problem: The emir, Sheik Sabah Ahmad Al-Jaber, is in his 80s — yet the family for the first time seems unable to promote a credible line of succession.

Kuwait's national security, even survival, depends (at least in part) on maintaining a consensual system in which basic freedoms are guaranteed. The country must remain vigilant against rapacious neighbors close and far.

In a moment of danger, a Kuwait under an obscurantist system would be unable to call on Western democracies for rescue — as in 1990, when Saddam Hussein's armies annexed the emirate.

Have a comment on this PostOpinion column? Send it in to LETTERS@NYPOST.COM!

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Spreading the wealth — and choking US growth

The Issue: The battle in Washington over taxes and spending, and their impending economic impact.

***

It's interesting that many people continue to think that President Obama wants a settlement to avoid the fiscal cliff. He doesn't ("Growth Is All That Matters," Editorial, Dec. 1).

He wants to go over it and then use the resulting complaints to reduce taxes on those making less than $250,000 and restore social spending cuts. Then, presto, he becomes the tax-cutter-in-chief and defender of the poor and middle class.

Obama couldn't care less about economic growth. He cares about wealth redistribution and equality of outcome.

President Obama

Republicans need to take this to heart and deal with him accordingly. Sean McDowell

Atlanta

Obama wants to raise taxes on the wealthy.

He speaks out of one side of his mouth of millionaires and billionaires. Out of the other side, he cites families making $250,000 as rich. Something is very wrong with this picture.

Melanie Coronetz

Manhattan

Republicans should make a pledge to see if liberalism works. It could bring great benefits to the country for years to come.

If four years of taxation on job creators and spending on unions bring this country to its knees, as it most certainly will, it will be worth it to gain a clear answer on liberal policies once and for all.

Let Obama and the liberals have their way, so they'll own the results of their policies.

Steve Gidumal

Orlando, Fla.

Republicans should agree to raise income taxes on individuals making $1 million and couples making $1.5 million — the real rich — combined with an agreement by the Obama administration to use zero-based budgeting for 2014 and the rest of the term.

Zero-based budgeting would provide a true cost of government that could establish a baseline for how much entitlements would need to be adjusted.

At the same time, Republicans should explain on television why raising taxes during an economic downturn is a bad idea because it reduces consumer demand and that America's debt problem comes from overspending, not low tax rates.

Max Rugemer

Oakton, Va.

The "party of no," "obstructionist" Republicans should handle the current budget deal the Democrats put forth exactly the same way they did with Obama's health-care deal — zero involvement — if they want to galvanize the base and make big gains in the 2014 midterms.

Alan Alberts

Thornton

Surely, the fiscal cliff is meaningless to Obama and the Democrats. They extended the Bush tax cuts, rather than making them permanent, and then went on a $6 trillion borrowing, spending and regulation spree with impunity.

They intend to raise taxes beyond merely letting the tax cuts expire on Jan. 1, which, coupled with the coming costs of ObamaCare, will decimate businesses, jobs and the middle class.

America has already been deceived, betrayed and pushed off the fiscal cliff. A hard landing and a deeper recession are dead ahead.Daniel Jeffs

Apple Valley, Calif.

I suggest a referendum on whether tax rates should be raised for those with high levels of income and that eligibility to vote on this referendum be restricted to those who actually paid income tax the preceding year.Don Murray

Manhattan

Now that Obama has laid out his opening bid for negotiations, here's an idea for House Speaker John Boehner: On the revenue side, he can call for the elimination of state and local income-tax deduction.

That's about $50 billion per year and hits the blue states the hardest. It should be no problem, since they voted for higher taxes anyway.

On spending cuts, how about $6 trillion over 10 years? Start with cutting Health and Human Services, Homeland Security and Education, and the balance can go to entitlements. Based on the balance of Obama's bid, this is equally balanced.

Brian Daniel

Manhattan

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