Well, gang, I’ve come to the end of what was a near perfect day. I make an attempt to never speak in superlatives, strange foible of mine, but oh well. Anyhow, I spent the majority of my day having new adventures (as Sarah would put it) with many new friends, most of whom I’ve encountered through starting my blog. Brunch commenced at Joe Allen’s, in what I would like to term our own version of the Algonquin Round Table (the password to join is “Marian. Marian Seldes.” But remember kids, it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it…). There I met Esther, Steve, Doug, Joe and Eric; all intense theatrephiles who reside out of town, and all of whom I admired and enjoyed instantly. Of course the days adventures would be incomplete without Kari, Sarah and Jimmy. While others traipsed off to matinees of some sort or other, I went hung out with Sarah for the afternoon, which of course involved Angela Lansbury and Prettybelle. Then in another first, I actually rode the city bus.
Some of us attended that evening’s performance of Encores! No, No Nanette which is probably the strongest production I’ve seen at the City Center. I had but one qualm with the entire effervescent evening: that it was over. The plot is shaky thin, but that’s what one expects from the pre-Show Boat musical comedies. The music (Vincent Youmans, with lyrics from Otto Harbach & Irving Caesar) is infectious, the choreography (Randy Skinner), direction (Walter Bobbie) and costumes (Gregg Barnes) were top notch.
Usually, the Encores! crowd presents the original version of the show at hand, but in an unusual turn of events, there are two available editions of this musical: the 1925 original and the even more successful 1971 revisal (by Burt Shevelove) that played two years (and featured Ruby Keeler in a triumphant return to Broadway after 41 years). For this production, the powers that be decided on the ’71 version of the show, and I have to confess I’m glad they did.
In reviving the show in 1971, the country was into what is being referred to as its nostalgia craze. They were reissuing the Busby Berkeley musicals, other musicals about the 1920s and 30s were being written. Plus given the context of the virulent 60s, it made sense that entertainment leaned toward the more innocent escapism of these earlier years. Berkeley was even initially hired to direct, but wasn’t well enough to handle the task (Shevelove took over direction, Berkeley retained credit as “Production supervised by”). Donald Saddler provided the choreography. Ralphs Burns charted the orchestrations (the twin pianos provided chills, I kid you not) and Luther Henderson created the dance music.
In this evening’s performance, everything was spot on. It was a celebration of the 20s, without becoming overly campy and most refreshingly without the di rigeur self-referential satiric edges that have become so commonplace in the musical comedies of the present decade. What also was so refreshing was the audience’s complete surrender to the show. Sandy Duncan is 62 years old, which incidentally is the same age as Ruby Keeler when she did it, and from the way she carried her two big showstopping dance numbers, you’d think she was a youthful chorine. We need her back on Broadway, and how. A dancer’s longevity is rare; exceptions like Donna McKechnie and Chita Rivera come to mind instantaneously. I would place Duncan up in that area. Perhaps, since her signature musical role comes second hand, she might not be considered as such. But, my God, she delivers, high-kicking, fan-tailing and limber with endless energy and effortlessness. It felt like the auditorium was going to come tumbling down around us as she led the sure-fire “Take a Little One Step” that precedes the finale. Kudos to Beth Leavel, who knows how to bring the hilarious, can move like the breeze and can sock it to the rafters. (“The Where-Has-My-Hubby-Gone Blues” was a definitive showstopper. So was her next line). Did anyone else notice the subtle wink she gave the audience when the ovation continued to roar? Michael Berresse is a good dancer. Alright, you got me, an understatement of the grossest sort! He made Skinner’s moves look effortless – he’s certainly a throwback to the Gene Kelly mode, no? The ever-reliable and affable Charles Kimbrough was the philandering Bible-salesman who’s habit of keeping secret women (all of whom he gives money to keep happy, but it’s seriously strictly platonic) leads to most of the conflicts. Mara Davi, a soubrette who deserves her own vehicle, was even better than I had anticipated. Shonn Wiley (who, incidentally, I also saw at the Westchester Broadway Theatre in Crazy For You in 2000 opposite his now-wife Meredith Patterson) had the thankless role of Tom, her beloved, relishing in the role of the square-cut, straight-laced type. Oh yes, and the maid. There’s always the wise-cracking maid. Here it was played the lover extraordinaire of all things Broadway, Rosie O’Donnell, providing laughs with her world-weariness, a showdown with a vacuum cleaner and even a brief tap solo towards the end of the show. I am thrilled to have seen the show, mostly because of its place as an early 20s hit. A show that most would scoff at under normal circumstances, but is the epitome of the type of musical theatre that should be celebrated by Encores!.
The show is strong enough that it could seriously transfer to Broadway. The polish and caliber for a mere 8 days of rehearsal is beyond the call of duty in concert situations like this. I didn’t even catch anyone really glancing at their concert prompt-binders either. I’m not sure if anyone would be interested in a transfer, but believe me, I wouldn’t mind seeing it again. And I’m sure most of those who saw it this weekend feel the same way. Post-show was spent at what is the post-City Center hangout, Seppi’s on 56th for some food and my usual white Russian. Not to mention “I Want to Be Happy” stuck in our heads. It should be criminal to have had as much fun as I did today. I look forward to the next time people come back into town.
The final line from Sandy Duncan’s bio: “And, contrary to urban myth, she does not have a glass eye.”
And now you know the rest of the story…
>I refuse to be a critic. I refuse to be a journalist. However, for all those who insist that I write (oh God), I figure a compromise in the form of a blog is in order. That way I can avoid formality and staid observations and allow myself to a means of expressing what it is I have to say about things.
Mostly I’ll be discussing theatre. Maybe some film. Okay. I love the genre too much not to discuss it, especially if its related to theatre or if it features some of the better actors of past and present. I may also be into discussing certain books or even socio-political climates in our world. Basically, if I want to rant about anything and everything, I will.
I have enjoyed live theatre, particularly musical theatre, ever since I can remember. My first show, at least in my memory, was a local production of Peter Pan when I was in first or second grade. That was almost killed by an excruciating production of Annie I witnessed a mere year later. (How bad? I rooted for Miss Hannigan). My first film musicals were Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music, respectively. (I always thought Julie Andrews was more attractive with an Edwardian upsweep than with a tomboyish blonde crop). From those films, I immersed myself in the remainder of the Rodgers and Hammerstein canon, as well as anything shown on AMC, when it was still good, and later on, TCM. You’d think with such an appreciation, I’d have immediately gone to Broadway, especially growing up so close to it in Westchester County. But, I never made it there until the Ides of March, 2000. I had a terribly feverish flu that day as I attended a Wednesday matinee of Miss Saigon with my class. I was practically hallucinatory during the famed helicopter scene and ended up being out of a school for a week as a result. But there was no way I was going to miss my first trip to Broadway. It could only improve from that experience.
My next show was Cats.
Moving on… so here I am seven and a half years later, much more well-versed in the art form, much more opinionated and with a Jeopardy-like ability to recall names, dates and other such trivialities that most people have long stopped caring about. There is a soft spot for many of the flop shows and scores of past, with a particular interest in Juno, Donnybrook!, The Girl Who Came to Supper, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Dear World, A Time for Singing and Darling of the Day. (That Patricia Routledge did not have a successful career in the American musical theatre remains one of the greatest enigmas known to man).
My favorite musicals are: She Loves Me, The Light in the Piazza and Sweeney Todd. Numerous runners-up include: Follies; A Little Night Music; The King and I; South Pacific; Fiddler on the Roof; My Fair Lady; Grey Gardens; Carousel; Mame; High Spirits; Gypsy; 1776; Show Boat; Sunday in the Park With George; How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying; Kismet; Kiss Me, Kate; The Music Man; West Side Story; The Most Happy Fella; 110 in the Shade; Parade; Ragtime. I am always willing to hear new scores as well as past obscurities that may have slipped by the wayside.
Favorite plays: Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?; The Pillowman; Doubt; Long Day’s Journey Into Night; The Lieutenant of Inishmore; Noises Off; The Man Who Came to Dinner; Arsenic and Old Lace; Mary, Mary; The Crucible, Mister Roberts; Auntie Mame; Hamlet; Proof; Barefoot in the Park; The Little Foxes and The Heiress.
Favorite actors/performers (theatre and film) include, in no particular order: Emma Thompson, Laura Linney, Katharine Hepburn, Cherry Jones, Bill Irwin, Kathleen Turner, Victoria Clark, Kelli O’Hara, Madeline Kahn, Angela Lansbury, Dorothy Loudon, Anthony Hopkins, James Stewart, Henry Fonda, Cary Grant, Jack Nicholson, Peter O’Toole, Helen Mirren, Greer Garson, Zero Mostel, Maureen O’Hara, Deborah Kerr, William Holden, Audrey Hepburn, Glenda Jackson, Barbara Harris, Barbara Cook, Peter Sellers, Vanessa Redgrave, Lynn Redgrave, James Mason, Gregory Peck, Tammy Grimes, Rosalind Russell, Ethel Merman, Mary Martin and a slew of others.
People I do not care for as performers (and you may be surprised): Meryl Streep, Jane Fonda, Tom Cruise, Robert Redford, Warren Beatty, Julia Roberts, Kristin Chenoweth (and a slew of others). There are more, but why dwell so heavily on the negative? I have my reasons and that’s all I need.
That about covers a brief introductory. Like I previously stated, I will comment on things I’ve seen and expound my opinions on varying subjects. Plus, I would love to hear your thoughts as well.