THE LAST BROAD

Patti LuPone is done with Broadway, and almost everything else.

- MICHAEL SCHULMAN

Patti LuPone stood in a midtown recording studio one spring afternoon, talking to Carrie Bradshaw. LuPone, who descends from what she calls Sicilian peasant stock, had filmed an arc on the upcoming season of “And Just Like That . . .,” as the Italian mama of Giuseppe (Sebastiano Pigazzi), the young boyfriend of Carrie’s gay pal Anthony (Mario Cantone). She was now recording some dialogue tweaks in postproduction. On a monitor, her character, Gianna, was greeting Carrie at a party. At the microphone, LuPone tried out different line readings: “Ciao.” (Imperious.) “Ciao!” (Warm.) “Ciao-ciao!” (Sprightly.)

“Just fill it up a little bit,” the show-runner, Michael Patrick King, instructed.

“I like your dress verrry much. Verrry pretty,” LuPone purred in an Italian accent.

“Shit, now I have to call the Writers Guild,” King joked, about her ad-lib. They moved on to a scene in which Gianna spars with Anthony in his apartment. King had written LuPone a saucy exit line: “Questo corridoio puzza,” which translates to “This hallway stinks.” LuPone gave him options, punching her “P”s: “Questo corridoio puzza!” (Pugnacious.) “Questo corridoio puzza.” (Droll.) “Questo corridoio puzza! Ugh!” (Revolted.) When they wrapped, King told her, “You are a delight.”

“Thank you for including me, honest to God,” LuPone said. “And just, you know, think of me. Because I don’t want to be onstage anymore. Period.”