As it was at the overture and shall be at the exit music, bliss without end. Amen.

Theatre Aficionado at Large

Tag: Review

“Born Yesterday”

Luminous, effervescent, captivating, staggering, astonishing, breathtaking. These are all words I have used in the past five days to describe Nina Arianda’s star-making performance as Billie Dawn in the smashing new revival of Born Yesterday. The truth is these adjectives don’t even begin to describe the magic currently happening onstage at the Cort Theatre. Ms. Arianda isn’t merely making a Broadway debut, she is effortlessly establishing herself as one of the brightest new faces in American theatre. (For the record, I missed Ms. Arianda’s off-Broadway triumph in Venus in Fur and the sound that you hear is me kicking myself).

She makes her entrance casually, gaudily dressed and entirely unimpressed with the opulent $235 a night hotel suite, her tycoon boyfriend’s bragadaccio and the world of Washington politics. She quickly exits, but already an impression has been made. In the meantime other characters are talking, extolling necessary exposition that will come to impact the play’s climax and denouement. But it’s already too late for everyone else onstage. The tall, lithe blonde has merely walked across the stage and has forged a lingering impression. By the end of Born Yesterday, Arianda’s Billie has earned not only our love, but our respect and admiration.

Much of the credit is due to author Garson Kanin, who wrote in many interesting layers and memorable lines for the character. (When asked, “What’s Democratic?” Billie replies, “Not Republican.”) When the tycoon realizes she may become a liability in Washington circles, he hires a reporter to smooth out her rough edges. She resists these early attempts, insisting that she enjoys being dumb and that she is happy with what she has. But Billie Dawn is someone who has sacrificed her career, her relationship with her father and her dignity for a man who treats her as a business commodity, often brusquely and brutally. Knowledge is power, which the tycoon only realizes when it’s too late and she threatens his business exploits. It makes it all the more thrilling to watch her grow and become obsessed with learning, from asking questions. I haven’t felt so thrilled for a singular characterization in some time; Ms. Arianda is likely to become a sensation, not unlike the role’s originator Judy Holliday.

Jim Belushi plays Harry Brock, an uncouth junk tycoon who blusters his way through life and business, a contemptible bully. He is a mess of instant contradictions: embarrassed by Billie’s lack of social graces while raving about like an uncouth jackass. Much of his performance is pitched higher (even a reference to his yelling in the script), but Belushi provides a fantastic antagonist. Robert Sean Leonard is reporter Paul Verrall, idealistic but cynical; a man for whom integrity is important. It’s not the showiest of the roles, but Mr. Leonard plays him with utter sincerity, but could bring up the romantic spark a few notches. (I think it’s safe to say that Paul is the first man to treat Billie with respect since she lived with her beloved father).

Frank Wood plays Brock’s self-loathing alcoholic attorney who was once Attorney General but is easily bought. Wood effectively portrayed these elements of the character, but there were some issues with his diction at the performance I attended. Michael McGrath lurks and menaces as Brock’s cousin and main henchman. Patricia Hodges makes a delicious cameo as the haughty senator’s wife. The cast of 13 also includes Terry Beaver, Jennifer Regan and Danny Rutigliano in small but memorable appearances.

While there are some creaky moments, I was most surprised by the play’s relevance. It’s a product of its time, and some of the sensibilities date. However, it was not much of a stretch from 1946 to 2011 watching a corrupt tycoon try to buy government support for his dubious business practices. Harry Brock is a larger-than-life antecedent of those CEOs and banks who brought the country to the brink of financial ruin in 2008. He’s brash, bombastic and so rich that he thinks he’s entitled to everything he wants. He will bully and abuse everyone from a bell-hop to U.S Senator. In our reality, he would most likely get his way. Kanin reminds us that the people are the government.

Director Doug Hughes, whose revival of The Royal Family was also a sumptuous period feast, stages Kanin’s text with a deft comic touch. These actors are playing for character and not laughs, making it a warmer experience than I even anticipated. Admittedly, it takes the play a few moments to get started but once Billie Dawn is unleashed on the audience, it’s rapture to the very end. The experience is heightened by the set and costumes, with stunning period detail. John Lee Beatty’s divine navy blue and gold trimmed hotel suite earns gasps and applause as the curtain rises while Catherine Zuber’s costumes are perfection (the way she dresses Billie Dawn as she transforms is pure genius). It’s the best sort of eye candy.

Beg, borrow or steal. Do whatever you can to get to the Cort Theatre. Nina Arianda is not to be missed.

“Promises, Promises” – The New Broadway Cast Recording

When I received the new Broadway cast recording of Promises, Promises from Sony Masterworks last week, I have to confess I didn’t have high expectations. The reviews for the show were far from raves, and had been led to believe the show was a huge bomb. Much to my surprise, the cast album for this production is quite enjoyable. In fact it is one of the more spirited cast albums I’ve heard in quite some time. Full disclosure – I haven’t seen the revival so I cannot comment on the quality of the production as it plays onstage, but am aware of instances where the cast album can make a production sound better on disc than it played in the theatre.

From start to finish there is much to enjoy. Sean Hayes isn’t as distinctive as either Jerry Orbach or Tony Roberts and while his vibrato is a bit on the reedy side, he is certainly up for the inherent challenge and gives a welcome comic turn. He especially shines in “She Likes Basketball” and the title song. Kristin Chenoweth is somewhat more problematic as Fran. First off – interpolating Bacharach’s pop hits “I Say a Little Prayer” and “A House is Not a Home” make absolutely no sense for her character to be singing. Period. Chenoweth is famed for that seemingly endless coloratura range, and her voice doesn’t translate as well to belt/mix like other sopranos. Also, making “A House is Not a Home” an emotional focal center of the production shows genuine mistrust of the material by the creative team, but that’s a conversation for another time.

Tony-winner Katie Finneran gives it her all as drunken Marge and she makes an interesting impression on “A Fact Can Be a Beautiful,” which has a fantastic dance break. Dick Latessa does well in his duet “A Young, Pretty Girl Like You.” On the other hand, “Turkey Lurkey Time” is a complete dud. You’d be better off with the original Broadway cast recording or that glorious youtube clip. Tony Goldwyn has very little to do on record as the cad boss who leads Fran on, singing “Wanting Things” and duetting with Hayes on “It’s Our Little Secret,” which features its verse on record for the first time).

The sound is crisp, there is extra music as well as the show’s finale with the famed last line  and really makes the rideouts of the songs just really hit home (it’s also easier to hear the pit singers here, too). The set is also blessed with ample liner notes, complete with the lyrics but lacking a thorough plot synopsis. Oh, and naturally there are plenty of photographs from the production.

Another thing about the score and show Promises, Promises. It’s based on the 1960 film The Apartment, but composer Burt Bacharach, lyricist Hal David and librettist Neil Simon created a contemporary musical in 1968 and the music is so much of that era that it genuinely strikes me as odd that the show has been pushed back to 1962. The syncopations, the rhythms and orchestrations are all evocative of the late 60s and it ‘s absurd to try and make it otherwise. The nature of the decade was so turbulent that 1962 is a million light years removed from 1968. It makes absolutely no sense to do that, especially if it’s to capitalize on Mad Men (which is referenced in advertising for the show. Mad Men the Musical is about the last thing I would ever care to see).

So it’s not the perfect reading of the show, but it’s still quite an enjoyable listen nonetheless. The real surprise about this particular album is the way it’s recorded. I’ve felt that a lot of recent revival albums have failed to capture the vibrancy of the onstage experience (Patti’s Gypsy and South Pacific come readily to mind) or the energy of earlier counterparts. This album, warts and all, pops from the overture to finish. Almost everything about this recording is alive and quite engaging (with the exceptions noted above); so much so that though I was wary of seeing the actual show, I’m now quite interesting in going. What can I say? The power of the cast album compels me.

Posted on July 7, 2010 at 3:03 am.

“The Bomb-itty of Errors” @ HVSF

Full disclosure: I don’t know all that much about the hip-hop. (Surprise, surprise). However, I was curious when I heard that the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival would be presenting a show called The Bomb-itty of Errors in its summer lineup. Based on The Comedy of Errors (also the basis for the marvelous Rodgers & Hart musical The Boys from Syracuse, as well as the not-so-marvelous Oh, Brother), the farcical plot revolves around two sets of twins separated at birth and the chaos of mistaken identity that ensues when they end up in the same town, taken from the ancient plays of Plautus. It’s one of Shakespeare’s earliest plays and is a full-out, no holds barred low-brow slapstick comedy.

Shakespearean purists might be affronted, but the rest of the masses will undoubtedly be amused (and I like to think those in the stalls at the Globe would have been amused, too). Utilizing a cast of four, a DJ and a unit set, the high spirited, fast-paced production directed by Chris Edwards produces a fountain of laughs. If some of the shtick falls flat and it’s not as consistently strong or satisfying as last year’s production of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) (there are bound to be inevitable comparisons between the two), there is enough in Bomb-itty, which is unashamedly bombastic and ribald, to amuse and entertain. The bulk of the show’s success is due to the superlative ensemble, who each play multiple roles in a sort of rapping panto. As a sort of hip-hoperetta, the piece takes some liberties with the storyline and structure (this time both sets of twins are fraternal quadruplets. Don’t ask, just enjoy), but tells the fundamental plot using rap, rhythm and the assistance of the dee-jay.

While the text may be a bit too raw for my taste, the casting is flawless. The four actors play multiple parts, men and women (oh, the drag…) and bring the audience into the action in a way that isn’t quite possible with any other variation of this piece. All four are utterly fearless, unafraid to push the envelope of ribald comedy and completely free to throw caution to the wind. Some of the humor might be a bit too lewd for the kids, but then again it might just sail over their heads. Parents, use your own discretion.

Michael Borrelli scores the biggest laugh of the night channeling a Hasidic Phil Silvers (as jeweler Himmelberg, another creation that I don’t recall from the original), telling a three minute improvised “Yo Momma” joke the show to a crashing halt with its inspired comic brilliance. Christian Jacobs, billed as the Phantom of the Choppera (whom I’ve known since high school and whose worked I have always enjoyed), is the most at ease with the hip-hop form and is a collection of manic energy and frenzy; bold and fearless. Patrick Halley (Wintry Mix) is steadily amusing throughout, but his highlight is an inspired turn as Luciana; strident, stupid and unbelievably vapid Luciana, whose later entrances were enough to induce belly laughs. Wayne T. Carr (Black Light) plays both Antipholus of Ephesus and his wife Adriana, and is so believable and so vibrant you forget how easily he switches from one to the other. Christopher Joshua McCardle is DJ iPhool, who has very little in the way of lines, but provides important support from his sound booth and turntable.

More than any other show that I’ve seen at the festival, the sound and lighting design play a far more substantial part with the proceedings and help to give the theatre the feeling of a night at a club. I must give kudos to whomever was working behind the show’s “curtain” with the props and costume changes. There were changes so fast and so clean I couldn’t help but gasp (the same could be said for those around me). I cannot begin to imagine the frenzy of dresses, wigs and pieces that flew around in that limited backstage area.

I don’t know how artistic director Terry O’Brien feels about the musicals based on Shakespeare plays, but with the success of Bomb-itty I’d be really curious to see if the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival would tackle Your Own Thing or Galt McDermot and John Guare’s Two Gentlemen of Verona. The other shows this season include Troilus and Cressida and The Taming of the Shrew. I’ll be reporting on those soon.

Posted on July 6, 2010 at 11:48 pm.

"Next Fall"

(Possible spoilers ahead. You’ve been warned).

There has been much hype surrounding Geoffrey Nauffts’ play Next Fall, which has become something of a critical darling in a rather ho-hum season for new plays. The play, about the contentious romantic relationship between two gay men – one Christian, one atheist/agnostic. The play literally starts with a bang – a car crash to be specific, which places one half of the couple in a coma. In a style reminiscent of Diana Son’s Stop-Kiss, the narrative unfolds in a series of scenes that switch between the present and past, alternatively unraveling the precarious and unlikely nature of the relationship.

But ultimately, Next Fall fails to deliver on its promise of profundity. Instead the audience is subjected to a lackluster play that is half sitcom, half melodrama (complete with expected hospital waiting room histrionics). The characters don’t fare much better: they lack complexity and ultimately become ciphers, allowing the playwright to get on his soapbox. There is some shading to Adam and Luke, but everyone on the periphery is flatly written. Dad is a redneck fundamentalist Christian, mom a bizarre reformed free-spirit addicted to painkillers, and there’s the obligatory Grace Adler-esque best friend. Then there’s the ex-boyfriend, but more on him later.

The relationship between Adam and Luke is represented in a perfunctory fashion. Adam is a high-strung, neurotic New York mess (think Woody Allen minus the wit). Luke is presented as a pure, naive Christian, well-meaning and ignorant. Luke’s parents are presented as narrow-minded, stereotypes of conservative Christianity. In relying on these cultural stereotypes, Nauffts’ gives himself an outlet for his worldview, but doesn’t offer anything compelling or revelatory in the process.

The strident, snarky Adam is both irritating and aggravating because of his insensitivity and unyielding narcissism. There were certain questions he asked Luke which had credence, but that was undermined by his total lack of compassion, especially in the scene where he asks Luke to love him more than God. Perhaps it’s just me, but if you really love someone you accept them for who they are, and it seemed as though Adam never did. I wanted to paraphrase The Sound of Music for them – just because Luke loves God doesn’t mean he loves Adam less. For someone who demands acceptance from others, Adam is very unwilling to offer it himself.

It’s to the play’s disservice that Luke is written and portrayed in such a simpleminded way. There’s an infinitely more interesting play to be written when the two characters are intellectual equals, or last on an even playing field. There was no one there to represent the middle-ground where ultimately most of the people I know tend to fall. One particular idea that is completely missing from the discussion are those who believe in God, or some other higher power, but not in organized religion (and there are many out there who do).

Breen does what he can with Adam’s uptight persona, but is mostly monotonous. Heusinger has similar troubles with Luke, but managed to get my sympathy (I tend to root for the underdog in a situation). Connie Ray and Cotter Smith are strong performers in search of strong material as Luke’s parents Arlene and Butch (why don’t you just hit us over the head with a hammer) but fail to register. Maddie Corman is a pretty, talented actress with charm and comic sensibility, but she seems more interesting than the character she is playing. The role of Brandon, Luke’s ex-boyfriend is cripplingly underdeveloped and given a stultifying portrayal by Sean Dugan. Even after Brandon’s big scene in the second act, there is very little to warrant his presence in the play.

Ultimately, Luke dies of his injuries at the end of the play leading into a sober denouement in which the characters slowly disperse. But after 2 1/2 hours of watching him vilified by his lover for his beliefs, it felt more like the playwright was sacrificing the character because of his faith. A first-time playwright, Nauffts needed more time to workshop and shape his text. What we are left with are talking points that are never molded into anything definitive, dialogue that wouldn’t pass muster in a second-rate sitcom and the vague outlines of character. When the houselights came up, I was left with a decidedly autumnal chill.

Posted on May 28, 2010 at 7:18 pm.

"Lend Me a Tenor"


Leaving the Music Box Theatre after seeing the infectious new revival of Lend Me a Tenor, I found myself unable to stop humming “La Donna è Mobile,” the famed aria from Rigoletto. No matter what I did or what song I played, it remained at the back of mind – buoyant, effervescent and melodic. The aria is heard as the house lights go down and curtain comes up on Ken Ludwig’s popular farce, instantly grabbing you and immersing you into the roller coaster ride of sidesplitting comedy about to enfold onstage. Like that aria, this new production sings out with gusto that will leave you buoyant, effervescent and smiling long after you have left the theatre.

The original production was a big hit in 1989. Starring Victor Garber, Tovah Feldshuh, and Tony-winning Phil Bosco, it ran for over a year and instantly became a staple in stock and community productions. (Its world premiere was in London in 1986). The plot in brief: the Cleveland Grand Opera is expecting a world-renowned Italian tenor for their gala. When he becomes indisposed, hijinks, misunderstandings and a hell of a lot of door slamming ensues. As a farce, the play itself is merely good, not great. Ludwig’s text as a whole feels more like a rough draft of a greater comedy that has yet to be realized. There are some missed opportunities (especially with the Bellhop, who should have more to do) and its ending seems somewhat abrupt and rushed. However, this production is so laugh out loud hilarious and features a top notch ensemble of actors, that it’s incredibly easy to both forget and forgive the shortcomings of its writing.

Anthony LaPaglia shines as Tito, the egomaniacal tenor in question whose propensity for women and booze causes most of the evening’s chaos, and is especially memorable for the fearlessness of his physicality, particularly in the scene where he gives the impressionable would-be tenor Max a lesson in voice and relaxation. It must be seen for full effect. Tony Shalhoub is in full cigar-chomping mode as the temperamental producer Sanders. Jay Klaitz is a comic revelation as the endearing Bellhop (and operaphile). Movie star Justin Bartha makes an impressive Broadway debut as the nebbishy Max, who vacillates between the sadsack producer’s assistant and confident opera diva when masquerading as Tito with considerable aplomb.

Mary Catherine Garrison winningly proves that ingenues have dirty dreams as Saunders’ daughter and Max’s girlfriend, and whose scream in the second act is one of the funniest moments I’ve seen on this or any other stage. The ever-reliable Jennifer Laura Thompson, always a welcome presence, taps into her quirky comic skills as the seductively ambitious diva Diana. Brooke Adams is far too striking to convince as a dowdy, past-her-prime matron, but the actress – mercilessly decked out like the Chrysler building – scores some big laughs.

Jan Maxwell effortlessly walks away with the entire evening as Maria, Tito’s fiery, jealous wife. Maxwell, who was last seen giving a bravura star turn in the shimmering revival of The Royal Family, hits another home run as she rages, seethes and breaks down with an exaggerated Italian accent. Whenever she is onstage she is in total command, somehow maintaining her character’s elegance in spite of her antics. She brought the first act to a crashing halt by merely hissing. After the disappointments of To Be or Not to Be and Coram Boy (which deserved to be a hit), it is especially welcoming to see Maxwell having such a banner season. Ms. Maxwell is one of the unquestionable treasures of the NY theatre scene, equally adept in both plays and musicals. If there is a God, Maxwell should be nominated for a Tony (for this and The Royal Family) – and she should win.

Then, of course, there is the director. Stanley Tucci, in his first Broadway directing gig, is as gifted a director as he is actor. His task is not an easy one; staging a successful farce is incredibly difficult as it involves laser-sharp timing from the loudest door slam to the tiniest gesture. His work here is infectious and inventive, bringing lightning pace and visual gigs, but also a certain touch of humanity that wouldn’t normally seem possible in pure farce. Tucci’s directorial touch is solid 14 karat gold. Anyone sitting center orchestra should also watch out for flying objects – all spit takes and such gags are directed out at the audience, a rather zany, inspired touch from a genius actor turned director.

John Lee Beatty’s sumptuous set captures the elegance of a posh hotel suite in the 30s, so vividly realized its as though a penthouse was cut in half and placed onstage. Martin Pakledinaz has once again outdone himself with his period costumes. His eye-popping outfits worn by his leading ladies are especially memorable (the image of Jan Maxwell casting off her fur-lined wrap is a vivid image that will aways stick with me).

Lend Me a Tenor is undoubtedly the hit comedy of the season, and the funniest thing this side of The Norman Conquests. I look forward to making another visit, especially to revel in the genius of Ms. Maxwell, but also in appreciation of Mr. Tucci’s immense achievement. Oh – and for that tour de force curtain call, which is worth the price of admission alone.

Simpler Yet Still Sublime: "Ragtime"


Some might feel it is too soon for a revival of Ragtime, but there is no time like the present for this exhilarating, moving epic musical based on the novel by E.L. Doctorow. The show is well known for its opulent original production, a history pageant that spared no expense in becoming a theatrical event. That production lingers in the hearts and minds of many theatre-goers for its superb original cast, and the Tony-winning score by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens. It also is remembered for the less than stellar reception it received the first time around, finding itself in competition with the critical darling The Lion King across the street, losing the Best Musical Tony and closing when Garth Drabinsky’s Livent collapsed after 834 performances and a financial loss.

Imported from the Kennedy Center, this production strips away the physical extravagance that some felt overwhelmed the first production, finding at its heart the story of three diverse families whose lives somehow intersect during the post-Gilded Age. More faithful to the source material than the film adaptation, the musical Ragtime opens with one of the most extraordinary pieces of expository writing known to musical theatre. In nine minutes, we are introduced to every major character, every theme and every thread of plot which we are to follow for the next two and a half hours.

An archetype family of affluent WASPS living in Westchester find themselves rattled from their suburban complacency by the discovery of an abandoned African American baby in their garden. The family’s lives are forever changed by this moment, by taking in the young woman and exposing themselves to much of the unjustices and darker underbelly of the American dream (as experienced by the immigrant Tateh, who also becomes intertwined in their lives in the second act). Doctorow’s original novel finds these fictional characters encountering many historical figures such as Evelyn Nesbitt, Harry Houdini, Emma Goldman, Henry Ford, J.P. Morgan and Booker T. Washington. Those characters are also supplanted into the musical, where they serve as observers and commentators on the main fragments of the plot.

Comparisons with the original production are inevitable, especially given it’s been less than ten years since the original closed at the (now) Hilton Theatre. However, director-choreographer Marcia Milgrom Dodge, in removing the opulence turns this large musical into an actor driven piece. It’s not as drastic as the family band version of Sweeney Todd from a few seasons back, but it places further emphasis on the characters, who are less stately and more realized in this production. Rather than overwhelming the audience in its history, Dodge focuses on the human connections providing great emotional intensity in her stage visuals.

Quentin Earl Darrington plays Coalhouse with an unaffected earnestness that is tragically contrasted by his grief-stricken vigilantism in the second act. Stephanie Umoh has the the inenviable task of filling Audra McDonald’s Tony award winning shoes as the ill-fated Sarah, but if she doesn’t make you forget her predecessor, she certainly rises to the occasion. Ron Bohmer finds considerable dimension in Father, a man aware of change around him but so grounded in his fastidious manner he can’t accept or adapt to it. Even more pleasantly surprising is his ability to make his character sympathetic. Rob Petkoff exudes considerable warmth and charm as the immigrant turned filmmaker Tateh. Bobby Steggert proves exceptional as Mother’s Younger Brother, simmering with angst and finding himself through activism, and later joining Coalhouse in his quest for justice.

The emotional core of the entire musical is to be found in Christiane Noll’s layered, multifaceted portrayal of Mother. The character with the most overwhelming arc, Mother emerges from docile housewife to an independent woman aware of herself and her responsibility in the world. Noll, known mostly as the woman who wasn’t Linda Eder in the original Jekyll & Hyde, comes into her own with a star making turn that is sure to be the talk of the spring’s awards season. She finds humor and pathos in the most subtle nuances of her performance, enhanced by the singing actress’ sumptuous soprano.

The intimacy of Dodge’s staging is further enhanced by the three-tier set by Derek McLane. Utilizing set pieces and lighting, the stage becomes a Ford factory, the house in New Rochelle, the Tempo Club in Harlem, Atlantic City and the Morgan Library, among other locales. The skeletal abstract nature of the design creates some striking tableau vivants, particularly those seen at the very top of the show and during “New Music.” Supporting actors are often found on a tier of the set, observing the story going on below and is ultimately a spare and effective use of the space. Santo Loquasto, costume designer of the original production, repeats the honor here. The lighting design is by Donald Holder, whose work here is the most atmospheric aspect of the scenography.

I have had the privilege of seeing this musical twice already, once on its first preview and again the other evening (where I found myself behind Ben Brantley). It’s no secret among friends and fellow bloggers that this was the musical production I’ve been looking forward to the most this season. One of the most powerful scores of the last twenty years, Flaherty’s music runs the gamut of period styles including cakewalks, rags, marches as well as soaring anthems and lingering ballads. Ahrens’ lyrics are among her best. One of the strengths of this revival is its retention of William David Brohns Tony-winning original 28 piece orchestration, complemented by exceptional singing. The only severe flaw I tend to find with the show is that it tends to wear its heart and ambition on its sleeve far more than it should, and Terrence McNally’s libretto, while an exceptional example of adapting a novel for musical theatre, fails to match the elegance of the score.

If the current revival at the Neil Simon Theatre is in every capacity less stately than the original production, it’s a stirring, overwhelmingly emotional event. Already, I am aching for the opportunity to see the show again, as I don’t know if I’ve ever been so moved by a musical production. I saw the original production of The Light in the Piazza a whopping twelve times, and that’s my personal record and I wouldn’t be surprised if this enthusing, affirming revival smashes that record. I can only hope that this time, Ragtime is welcomed to Broadway with the open arms it deserved the first time around.

Posted on November 15, 2009 at 11:23 pm.

"Brighton Beach Memoirs" – An Elegy

Watching the family of seven in Brighton Beach Memoirs trip over one another, share dinners, get into squabble and fights and sort through the chaos of daily living made me smile knowingly as I recalled my own childhood. My mother, my father, my three brothers and myself lived together in a house in suburban Westchester, with rampant Irish Catholicism and its trimmings in lieu of Judaism. My father worked as a firefighter and house-painter while my mother tended to the household and make some extra money by babysitting neighborhood kids. Our financial situation was never as dire as the Jerome family, but I think back and wonder how we ever managed to survive together in the house, as I found myself sharing a bedroom with my brothers while six of us sharing two bathrooms. This is never more evident than when all of us reconvene at the family home and we find ourselves near claustrophobic. The chaos of my youth has turned into warm memories of days gone by.

It’s disappointing, but not surprising to discover that The Neil Simon Plays are closing up shop tomorrow after an unfortunately brief run at the Nederlander. Brighton Beach Memoirs and Broadway Bound were to play in rep, with David Cromer making his Broadway directorial debut (and whose Our Town continues at the Barrow Street Theatre). However, ticket sales have been poor; last week’s average ticket price was $21.32. When the show opened to mixed to positive reviews last Sunday night, the writing was all but on the wall.

Originally I had planned to wait to see both shows in marathon, since The Norman Conquests proved that a full day at the theatre is most exhilarating. However, when I started to hear from the rumor mill that Broadway Bound would be canceled, I took the opportunity to see Brighton Beach Memoirs this past Tuesday. Much like my experiences with Coram Boy, The Lieutenant of Inishmore and Souvenir, I find myself looking back on a show that deserved a better fate and a longer run.

Loosely based on Neil Simon’s childhood, the plays are 2/3 of a trilogy (the other being Biloxi Blues) about the growing up of Eugene Jerome, a precocious kid from an impoverished Jewish American family in the Brighton Beach area of Brooklyn who simultaneously dreams of playing for the New York Yankees in the World Series and becoming a writer. The shows opened in the 1980s, where they were some of the longest running plays of the decade (with Brighton running for 1,299 performances) and established Matthew Broderick’s career (for better or for worse) and garnered Linda Lavin a Tony award (for Broadway Bound).

Cromer has directed his ensemble with pinpoint precision, finding great emotional depth in a play that could easily be played for cheap laughs. Showcasing the humanity of its story and its characters, these characters are fully-formed, dimensional and part of an American family, which also happens to be Jewish. Nowhere is this more evident than in the triumphant, ultimately moving performance of Laurie Metcalf as matriarch Kate who runs her harried household with tough love and a consistently stern exterior. However, it is in the nuance and specificity of Metcalf’s choices that make her a stand-out among the ensemble. There is a particularly striking moment as she descends the staircase while having a breakdown, leading into the first major argument she’s ever had with her sister. Her obvious one-liners and zingers come from a place of deep emotional resonance. Nazism is rapidly expanding in Europe, talk of war becomes more and more prevalent and all the while, she is left to make sure that a family of seven is sheltered and fed. Kate Jerome is a woman who is moving forward with the weight of the world on her shoulders. I only hope that the Tony nominating committee will remember her performance come June.

If Metcalf’s Kate is the rock upon which her family is built her performance is beautifully complemented by Dennis Boutsikaris as her husband Jack, the heart of the household. Jessica Hecht is virtually inrecognizable as Kate’s widow-turned-wallflower sister who lives with them and gradually finds the strength to become an effectual mother to her young daughters (Grace Bea Lawrence and Alexandra Socha). Santino Fontana is winning and winsome as Kate’s eldest son Stanley, who means well but often lands himself in trouble.

Then there is Noah Robbins. The young actor is nineteen years old and making his professional acting debut, let alone first appearance on Broadway. As the alter ego for the playwright, his character guides the evening as an observational narrator, a testament to the uncanny writing ability that he and other family members espouse. (And by extension, Mr. Simon himself). It was especially touching to see his wisecracks and commentary rounded out by his coming of age, and the metaphoric end of his childhood. With the show’s closing, I only wish him the best of luck as he embarks on what could be a most promising acting career.

It is disheartening for the show to fold so prematurely. The plays that are attracting the stars these days tend to be anything with major movie stars. It’s unfair that the show should suffer the stigma of a 9 performance run, but that is unfortunately part of the unpredictable nature of show business. It just seems as though there wasn’t great audience interest in these seminal Neil Simon works. Cromer is establishing himself as a director of merit in the New York scene, and his work here is consistent, compelling and often moving. One of the things I was most impressed was how he and his actors found a way to tell a nostalgic story without getting lost in a sea of diabetes-inducing sentimentality.

After the curtain call of Brighton Beach Memoirs, I turned to Noah and commented how much I was looking forward to seeing the second play. I feel for the entire ensemble, particularly Mr. Robbins and his Broadway Bound counterpart Josh Grisetti, a fresh-faced off-Broadway up and comer who won a Theatre World Award for last season’s Enter Laughing. One made an auspicious Broadway debut, and the other was poised to do the same. Beg, borrow or steal to get a ticket to see this one before it closes tomorrow afternoon – you won’t want to have missed it.

The question has been brought up whether or not Mr. Simon is still relevant to Broadway audiences, as his works have been met with indifference in recent years. I think it’s still to early to write him off just yet – he’ll be represented this spring at the Broadway Theatre with the revival of Promises, Promises, for which he wrote the libretto.

Posted on October 31, 2009 at 4:57 pm.

"Finian’s Rainbow" Shines on Broadway

The powers that be behind the Roundabout revival of Bye Bye Birdie, the new textbook example of how not to revive a second-tier Golden Age property, should look to the St. James Theatre to learn a thing or two. The seemingly unrevivable Finian’s Rainbow has made its way back to Broadway in a loving, vibrant production that illustrates the enchanting wit and charm that made the show a resounding success in its original production.

The musical, last seen on Broadway in 1960, has had something of a problem in receiving a full-scale revival. The libretto by Fred Saidy and lyricist Yip Harburg is generally considered the deal-breaker in resuscitating the show. While it combines elements of fantasy and whimsy with a satiric look at racial bigotry and capitalism, the book has long been considered dated, and rightly so. It is dated. Finian’s Rainbow was a period satire written in 1947 that surprised audiences with its storyline, which included a white racist senator being transformed onstage into a black man, with the use of black face. The stage trick worked for a 1940s audience, but would prove disconcerting to our more racially aware society. There’s also a leprechaun turning mortal while looking for a stolen pot of gold, a mute who communicates solely through dance, among other hijinks.

The Encores! presentation brought in resident script doctor David Ives to condense the problematic book, but in doing so left much to be desired as too much of the story was stripped away. A brand new adaptation has been arranged for the Broadway transfer, executed by Arthur Perlman which is a considerable improvement. While it doesn’t completely smooth out the script’s roughest edges, it manages to make them somewhat more palatable. (And I do love the exchange between Finian and Og involving popular musical theatre lyrics of the time).

Kate Baldwin is effervescent as Sharon McLonergan, a feisty colleen finding herself transplanted from her native Ireland to Rainbow Valley, Missitucky on her father’s whim. Sharon’s first song of the evening is the popular “How Are Things in Glocca Mora?” and Baldwin’s simple, lucid interpretation is the most spellbinding I’ve ever heard. Cheyenne Jackson is her paramour Woody, the town’s hero, who cuts a dashing figure and sings well, but is, dare I say it, wooden. Jim Norton ties together the entire production as Finian McLonergan, who incites chaos by stealing a pot of gold from a leprechaun in one of the more outrageous get-rich quick schemes known to drama. With a twinkle in his eye, and a skip in his gait, Norton appears to be having the time of his life.

There has been some recasting of roles since the Encores concert. Christopher Fitzgerald brings considerable comic charm and impishness to the leprechaun Og, and is a versatile improvement over his predecessor. David Schramm (Roy from Wings) plays Senator Rawkins with a vivacity reminiscent of the late Burl Ives, while his counterpart Chuck Cooper has a field day with the second act number “The Begat.” (It boggles my mind that no one ever thought of double casting the part before). Audience favorite Terri White belts out the rafter-shaking “Necessity,” repeating her duties from the Encores concert. However, one major difference – her performance on Broadway (as written and staged) was more of a genuine supporting turn rather than the glorified cameo it was at Encores.

Warren Carlyle’s staging and choreography are full and energetic, with “If This Isn’t Love” practically stopping the show. His earlier work from the Encores! production has been expanded and adds a certain clarity to what is essentially a convoluted story. He has the light touch necessary to bring his cast of 30 above and beyond what is normally expected from this show, and it would be interesting to see his work on top tier Golden Age material. (I wonder if he might be the man for Carnival!). The costume and lighting design are sumptuous, however, the set design by John Lee Beatty is surprisingly unattractive. There is a lovely patchwork show curtain, but the unit set is a gaudy extension of the Encores set up, which is unfortunate since the orchestra was moved to the pit.

As it was at Encores, the real star of the evening is the music of Burton Lane and lyrics of Yip Harburg. Harburg was known especially for his word play, and his tongue in cheek playfulness with the English language is complemented by Lane’s sophisticated use of melody. I dare you to leave Finian’s without one at least one of those songs running through your head. I’ve always admired its score. Harburg’s lyrics are always superlative (even his work in the flop Darling of the Day is better than most contemporary successes) and Lane is one of our most underrated composers (I enjoy On a Clear Day and even Carmelina). The score is one superb musical delight after another.

I should confess, I was never a big fan of Finian’s Rainbow. It’s story and script have left me rather cold over the years, and that certainly wasn’t helped by the tepid film adaptation or Ella Logan’s bizarre idiosyncratic performance as Sharon on the original cast album (one of the rare occurences where I prefer a revival album to the original). However, the vivacity of this production has made me reassess my opinion of the entire show, as I find myself hoping to make a return visit.

When the show played the City Center last March, I still wasn’t entirely convinced that it was worthy of a Broadway run. (The only Encores! I’ve ever felt was ready for Broadway was the superlative No No Nanette from 2008). However, in bringing Finian’s Rainbow to the St. James, much care has gone into making it a fully realized evening, and one with warmth to spare. For whatever quibbles there are with the script, the polish and poise in Carlyle’s production is enough to keep you smiling long after you’ve gone home looking for your own rainbow.

Posted on October 29, 2009 at 11:12 pm.

"Avenue Q" Rises Again

This may come as a surprise to many of you, but the final preview of the current Off-Broadway transfer of the Tony-winning smash hit Avenue Q was my first time ever seeing the show. There was really no excuse for my not having seen it before, as its been around for six and a half years. But sometimes even the good ones fall through the cracks – I didn’t see Hairspray until its penultimate performance. Anyway, this little musical that could, which famously upset juggernaut blockbuster Wicked for the 2004 Best Musical Tony, played 2,534 performances at the John Golden Theatre and closed up shop on September 13.

However, in the best closing notice coup since Roger Berlind announced the revival of Kiss Me Kate would remain open after 9/11, producer Kevin McCollum stunned all in the audience and onstage with the news that the show would reopen at New World Stages the following month. In this day and age of Twitter, Facebook, et al, it’s stunning that they were able to keep this secret so airtight.

But now the show, a Sesame Street style spoof on post-collegiate life in NY, has reopened at New World Stages 3, comprised of many Avenue Q alumni from the Broadway run and national tour. So while I don’t have much perspective of how the show played on Broadway, but I can’t help but feel that the more intimate the space the better. (I entered the Golden for the first time two weeks ago, and it felt even a trifle too big for even Oleanna and it’s one of the smallest Broadway houses).

So how did I miss this show? Well, I’ll admit. I get very excited for an original cast and try to see a show when it’s fresh and new. My first experiences on Broadway involved tired companies of juggernaut musicals that felt more like death warmed over than exciting live theatre (Miss Saigon and Cats). It wasn’t until my 3rd experience, with the revival of the aforementioned Kiss Me Kate (and its original cast), that I felt this post-show rush that can be best described as floating ten feet in the air. Ever since, I’m wary of any production once the originals leave – particularly in a musical.

Well, I am sorry I waited for so long. The show is what it is – a ribald, irreverent but timely pastiche. Its explorations of life in New York City aren’t exactly going to erase your memories of Company, but the creators use the familiar techniques employed by children’s shows to create an endearingly satiric portrait of adulthood. So instead of learning our ABCs and 123s, we are treated to such Tony-winning musical gems (courtesy of Jeff Marx and Robert Lopez) as “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist,” “The Internet is for Porn,” and “Schadenfreude.” There are the instructional animated films, the requisite marginally older & wiser humans, and inevitably the life lessons (“There’s a Fine, Fine Line” and “For Now”). What truly impressed me was the strength of the Tony-winning book by Jeff Whitty, which is much sharper in focus than many of the other self-referential musicals that have come after Avenue Q.

The engaging cast is comprised of Q alums, many of whom were involved in the final Broadway company. Seth Rettberg leads the charge as Princeton & Rod and illuminates the stage with offbeat charm. I can’t decide which is funnier: his delivery of “My Girlfriend Who Lives in Canada” or the ensemble’s outrageous pregnant pause that greets it. Sassy beltress Anika Larsen as Kate Monster & Lucy T. Slut is a petite powerhouse, with an especially showstopping delivery of “Special.” Cullen R. Titmas scores big as Trekkie Monster and Nicky. Nicholas Kohn and the irrepressible Sala Iwamatsu comprise the incongruous couple of Brian and Christmas Eve.

However, for whatever reason, my favorite is Maggie Lakis, who mostly provides silent support as an extra puppeteer but scores the biggest laughs of the evening as one of the Bad Idea Bears. Whenever Ms. Lakis is onstage, I couldn’t help but watch her. Not that she steals focus, mind you. She is just that fascinating a presence in a unsung performance ripe with humor and stagecraft.

There were two unexpectedly personal moments for me in the show. One was Princeton’s opening “What Do You Do With a BA in English?” I actually picked up one of those some years back and am still asking myself that question on a regular basis. The other, and one a bit more poignant, was “I Wish I Could Go Back to College,” a reflective moment where the ensemble contemplates what were arguably the best years of their lives. I turned to my friend and fellow blogger Jimmy mid-song and said “That was my weekend.” I was at my alma mater for an alumni weekend reception hosted by the Theatre Arts department, my other area of study (talk about a win-win…)

While greeting old friends and faculty, I had the chance to mingle with bright, optimistic and engaged theatre students who were anywhere from five to eight years younger than I am now. (I’m 26). In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that long ago, but we (Roxie and myself) started pondering when did we get so old, and why do these kids look so young? In the six years since the show opened (and closed and reopened), life for the post-bachelor’s student has grown increasingly more difficult and how strange that most of the themes pertaining to the show are still relevant to most of the people I know under the age of 30. This show got me thinking about myself, where I’m going and what I am doing with myself. And all they had to do was use puppets. Not many shows have that sort of effect on me, the most recent I can think of being the short-lived Reasons to Be Pretty.

Kudos to the house staff at New World Stages, who go the extra mile to make sure that there are no cell phone interruptions during the show. (Including reminding someone in the press about the NYC statute against cell phone use inside a theatre). This was also my first experience with the in-seat drink service, something in which I might partake should I go back again (which, yes, I am already considering). Though, I wondered during the audience collection if alcohol was a factor in inspiring an audience member down front to throw a Nutri Grain bar at the cast…

The move to off-Broadway was surprising, but it makes sense. The show is built for intimacy, and it is more cost effective for the producers to run it in a 499 seat house outside of Broadway. (And apparently The 39 Steps may follow suit…? Who knew?) It’s also nice to see that the show is becoming a theatrical institution for the city. As long as there are fresh-faced college grads tackling the world head on, there will always be a place for Avenue Q. Especially in New York.

Posted on October 21, 2009 at 10:05 pm.
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Walking Among My Yesterdays - 2011

1/19 - Avenue Q

1/25 - Knickerbocker Holiday (Collegiate Chorale)

1/30 - Chicago (Fan Day)

2/13 - La Cage Aux Folles

3/8 - Kate Baldwin & Sheldon Harnick: She Loves Him (Feinstein's)

3/12 - Kate Baldwin & Sheldon Harnick: She Loves Him (Feinstein's)

3/30 - How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying

4/6 - High

4/20 - Born Yesterday

4/27  - The People in the Picture

5/4 - Sister Act

5/4 - The Normal Heart

5/11 - Lombardi

5/19 - Something Wonderful: An Evening of Broadway (Carnegie Hall)

6/3 - Marilyn Maye: It's Maye in May (Feinstein's)

7/14 - Kate Baldwin & Sheldon Harnick: She Loves Him CD release (Feinstein's)

7/27 - Around the World in 80 Days (HVSF)

8/2 - Hamlet (HVSF)

8/7 - Follies (first preview)

8/20 - Jerusalem

8/27 - Sammy Gets Mugged (Fringe)

9/4 - Master Class (closing)

9/11 - Mary Poppins

9/12 - Follies (opening night)

9/16 - The Life and Death of King John (NY Shakespeare Exchange)

10/10 - Give Our Regards to Broadway (Manhattan School of Music)

10/16 - Broadway Originals (Town Hall)

10/17 - Carole Demas: Summer Nights (Laurie Beechman Theatre)

10/26 - Hugh Jackman: Back on Broadway

10/27 - Follies

10/30 - Chinglish

11/12 - Follies

11/18 - Annie Get Your Gun (Walter Panas Players)

Walking Among My Yesterdays - 2010

  • 1/3 - Ragtime
  • 1/20 - Tyne Daly: The Second Time Around (Feinstein's)
  • 2/6 - Betty Buckley: For the Love of Broadway! (Feinstein's)
  • 2/7 - Fanny (Encores!)
  • 2/27 - Yank!
  • 3/2 - God of Carnage
  • 3/8 - Kate Baldwin at Birdland
  • 4/3 - Lend Me a Tenor
  • 4/11 - Anyone Can Whistle (Encores!)
  • 4/23 - Collected Stories
  • 5/19 - Mitzi Gaynor: The Razzle Dazzle Years (Feinstein's)
  • 5/26 - Next Fall
  • 6/20 - A Little Night Music
  • 6/25 - The Bomb-itty of Errors (HVSF)
  • 7/31 - A Little Night Music
  • 8/21 - I Do! I Do! (Westport Country Playhouse)
  • 8/27 - Our Town (Barrow Street)
  • 9/25 - Brief Encounter
  • 10/7 - The Scottsboro Boys (first preview)
  • 11/6 - Lucky to Be Me: The Music of Leonard Bernstein (City Opera)
  • 11/19 - NY Pops' Stephen Sondheim Birthday Bash (Carnegie Hall)
  • 12/12 - The Scottsboro Boys (closing)

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