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Imogene Coca performs "Repent"

Imogene Coca originated the role of Mrs. Letitia Primrose (a role Mildred Natwick turned down for being too salacious), the religious fanatic from the lunatic asylum in the screwball musical comedy On the Twentieth Century. This highly entertaining number was her one solo in the show in which she instructed the audience on the only way they could find salvation: to “Repent.” The musical opened in 1978 at the St. James starring Madeline Kahn, John Cullum and Kevin Kline. Directed by Hal Prince, with music by Cy Coleman and book and lyrics by Comden & Green, the musical is an adaptation of the farce Twentieth Century, most famous for its 1934 film adaptation with John Barrymore and Carole Lombard. The show is a treasure: the two leads parallel Kiss Me Kate in that they must be able to sing with near operatic quality, but they must also be funny (not to mention the mammoth egos of the leading characters). The show is about a desperate theatre impresario trying to make a comeback with his former leading lady/ex-lover, who has gone on to Hollywood stardom. The score is phenomenal and the cast recording is a must have, in spite of the fact they recorded on a day when Kahn was experiencing vocal problems. (Oh, but what an overture and what a great listen).

(Kahn would depart the company after two months, the specifics of which are still partly cloudy. Understudy Judy Kaye became a star replacing her in the lead role. Sarah, Noah and I were privileged enough to see Kaye sing “Never” at the Theatre World Awards a couple years back and she could still play the role at 60). The show won 5 Tony awards including Best Actor (Cullum), Best Feat. Actor (Kline), Best Book, Score and Scenic Design (a celebration of art deco that audiences cheered as much as the show itself).

The musical played 460 performances and has only been revived in NY under the guise of an Actor’s Fund concert starring Douglas Sills, Marin Mazzie and Joanne Worley.

The Great American Musical Returns!

Patti LuPone officially returns to Broadway tonight in the latest revival of the musical Gypsy playing the St. James Theatre. As we are well aware, this is a transfer from the Encores! Summer Series concert that played the City Center last July. The production has transferred, company and all. (Save for Nancy Opel, who is currently starring in the national tour of The Drowsy Chaperone. Lenora Nemetz returns to the Great White Way after an extended absence as Mazeppa and LuPone’s stand-by).

La Môme

Though I was pulling for my personal favorite Julie Christie to win at this year’s Academy Awards, I was in no way disappointed in the selection of the gorgeous and talented French actress Marion Cotillard for her portrayal of Edith Piaf in La Vie en Rose. It’s a tad bit unusual as far as biopics are concerned as it doesn’t follow a solid through line. The film shows her life from early childhood to her death from liver cancer at the age of 47, but non-linear; almost a puzzle piecing together her past with her present. The film is extraordinary because of Cotillard and her magnanimous portrait of the famed chanteuse. As is the case with many Oscar winning performances from bio-pics (Reese Witherspoon’s overrated rendering of June Carter Cash a notable exception), there is a transformation at which you can do nothing but marvel. However, the prothesis aside (though seeing the frail and aged Piaf near death is jarring), Cotillard finds the humanity behind the legend, showing us that in spite of off-stage drama that colored her personality and aura, she was a passionate performer with an unending need to sing. (When she turns to her friend on her deathbed and knowingly asks “I’m never going to sing again, am I?” you are absolutely heart-broken). I do have to comment on Cotillard’s physicality. She has every gesture from the posture to the “singing through the hands” trademark down pat. I also wanted to comment: Edith Piaf was 4’8″. Marion Cotillard is about 5’7″ though you’d never know it from watching the film; she’s that convincing.

I didn’t know that much about Piaf prior to seeing the film, but have become fascinated. She is, in essence, the French Judy Garland (or was Garland the American Piaf?) She lived a torturous and brief existence, booze soaked and drug addled, mixing a powerful mezzo belt with the fire and intensity of an artist’s soul. The daughter of a street singer and an acrobat, she spent several years of her childhood being raised in her grandmother’s brothel. (A fascinating sequence; also, Piaf was struck blind due to infection, the religious prostitutes raised money to send her on a Pilgrimage to St. Thérèse de Lisieux). The superlatives applied to what will become Cotillard’s most famous role have all but exhausted the thesauri in the world. You’ve read the reviews and I won’t add to them. The accolades and awards are deserved; and Marion is a treasure to behold. Taking us through the dimensional world of a struggling insecure artist who’s temper and alcoholism are juxtaposed with moments of such vulnerability that all you want to do is hug Piaf. (It is during these moments where I feel Cotillard is channeling Giuletta Masina’s Gelsomina from La Strada, which is an extraordinary achievement that lesser actors couldn’t begin to fathom). The film, though doesn’t end just with her death, it is interspersed with her world-premiere performance of another signature song “Non, je ne regrette rien” (which translated means “No, I regret nothing”). Superb.

Trivia for the musical fans out there, Piaf’s close friend and composer Marguerite Monnot (played in the film by Marie-Armelle Deguy) who wrote the music for many of Piaf’s major pieces (most notably “Hymne à L’Amour,” with lyric by Piaf) became world-famous as the composer of the delightful musical comedy Irma La Douce which, composed in 1956, became the first French musical since the operettas of Offenbach to achieve world-wide popularity.

See the movie. Rejoice in the music. Marvel at Marion Cotillard.

Dorothy Loudon: An Appreciation

The American musical had a bright spot with this fearless comedienne-actress who could have you howling with laughter one moment and crying your eyes out the next. (Case in point; look at her signature roles – Miss Hannigan in Annie and Bea in Ballroom. About as night and day as you could imagine). Dorothy Loudon managed to survive a string of early flops: the prophetically titled Nowhere to Go But Up that lasted two weeks, The Fig Leaves Are Falling which ran a whopping four performances (yet garnered Loudon her first Tony nomination). She was the best thing about Lolita, My Love a decent if ill-advised adaptation of Nabokov’s novel, which opened and closed out of town in Boston. There is a recording of her performing the showstopping “Sur Le Quais”, a Gallic romp for Charlotte Haze in the middle of the first act. After playing Edith in a short-lived revival of The Women in 1973 (opposite Kim Hunter, Alexis Smith, Rhonda Fleming and Myrna Loy), she spent the mid-70s touring. Mike Nichols personally asked her to audition for the role of Miss Hannigan in Annie and took a supporting role and made it a star turn, triumphing at the the 1977 Tony awards over co-star Andrea McArdle. The success of Annie brought Michael Bennett and Ballroom calling. Though the show was a failure, her performance was highly lauded and the only thing that prevented her from winning the Tony was the juggernaut of Sweeney Todd and Angela Lansbury. Incidentally enough, her next job would be replacing Angela in Sweeney. She played opposite Katharine Hepburn in The West Side Waltz, took on Patricia Routledge’s role of Dotty Otley in the Broadway premiere of Noises Off and was one of Jerry’s Girls. One song that she got to sing in the latter was the highly irreverent and politically incorrect “Have a Nice Day.” Cut from La Cage Aux Folles early in its Boston previews, the song was an expression of a character’s bigotry, with a lyrical punchline so offensive that only someone of Loudon’s ability could make it funny. She rarely appeared on film, but made an impression as Carol Burnett’s replace on The Garry Moore Show in the ’60s and was a perennial favorite at the Tony awards. She also was featured on many Ben Bagley recordings, as well as many cast recordings and compilation albums produced by Bruce Kimmel in the 1990s. Loudon’s final appearance on Broadway was in the first preview of the Lincoln Center revival of Dinner at Eight. Due to her failing health, was forced to withdraw and Marian Seldes stepped in. She died in November 2003 at the age of 70, losing her battle with cancer. The following May, at the Theatre World awards, she received a tribute in the closing of the ceremony by Peter Filichia, which prompted a spontaneous full-house standing ovation in her memory. (I was there). One of the great disappointments in my theatre-going career is having missed out on the opportunity to see her perform live. Enjoy these two clips of her bringing down the house. The first is her performance at Sondheim – A Celebration at Carnegie Hall in 1992, where she puts a new spin on “Losing My Mind” and “You Drive a Person Crazy.” The second is much-talked about performance from the 1983 Tony awards. The evening was a celebration of George Gershwin, as the Uris Theatre became the Gershwin Theatre, and the line-up featured many stars performing various songs. Loudon had the choice task of performing this obscure little Gershwin number, “Vodka.” (I would post her “Fifty Percent” from the 1979 Tony awards, as it’s a devastating and captivating performance – when the Tony’s allowed performers to perform entire songs… but the youtube clip is of an inferior quality).

Dorothy Loudon: An Appreciation

The American musical had a bright spot with this fearless comedienne-actress who could have you howling with laughter one moment and crying your eyes out the next. (Case in point; look at her signature roles – Miss Hannigan in Annie and Bea in Ballroom. About as night and day as you could imagine). Loudon managed to survive a string of early flops: the prophetically titled Nowhere to Go But Up that lasted two weeks, The Fig Leaves Are Falling which ran a whopping four performances (yet garnered Loudon her first Tony nomination). She was the best thing about Lolita, My Love a decent if ill-advised adaptation of Nabokov’s novel, which opened and closed out of town in Boston. There is a recording of her performing the showstopping “Sur Le Quais”, a Gallic romp for Charlotte Haze in the middle of the first act. After playing Edith in a short-lived revival of The Women in 1973 (opposite Kim Hunter, Alexis Smith, Rhonda Fleming and Myrna Loy), she spent the mid-70s touring. Mike Nichols personally asked her to audition for the role of Miss Hannigan in Annie and took a supporting role and made it a star turn, triumphing at the the 1977 Tony awards over co-star Andrea McArdle. The success of Annie brought Michael Bennett and Ballroom calling. Though the show was a failure, her performance was highly lauded and the only thing that prevented her from winning the Tony was the juggernaut of Sweeney Todd and Angela Lansbury. Incidentally enough, her next job would be replacing Angela in Sweeney. She played opposite Katharine Hepburn in The West Side Waltz, took on Patricia Routledge’s role of Dotty Otley in the Broadway premiere of Noises Off and was one of Jerry’s Girls. One song that she got to sing in the latter was the highly irreverent and politically incorrect “Have a Nice Day.” Cut from La Cage Aux Folles early in its Boston previews, the song was an expression of a character’s bigotry, with a lyrical punchline so offensive that only someone of Loudon’s ability could make it funny. She rarely appeared on film, but made an impression as Carol Burnett’s replace on The Garry Moore Show in the ’60s and was a perennial favorite at the Tony awards. She also was featured on many Ben Bagley recordings, as well as many cast recordings and compilation albums produced by Bruce Kimmel in the 1990s. Loudon’s final appearance on Broadway was in the first preview of the Lincoln Center revival of Dinner at Eight. Due to her failing health, was forced to withdraw and Marian Seldes stepped in. She died in November 2003 at the age of 70, losing her battle with cancer. The following May, at the Theatre World awards, she received a tribute in the closing of the ceremony by Peter Filichia, which prompted a spontaneous full-house standing ovation in her memory. (I was there). One of the great disappointments in my theatre-going career is having missed out on the opportunity to see her perform live. Enjoy these two clips of her bringing down the house. The first is her performance at Sondheim – A Celebration at Carnegie Hall in 1992, where she puts a new spin on “Losing My Mind” and “You Drive a Person Crazy.” The second is much-talked about performance from the 1983 Tony awards. The evening was a celebration of George Gershwin, as the Uris Theatre became the Gershwin Theatre, and the line-up featured many stars performing various songs. Loudon had the choice task of performing this obscure little Gershwin number, “Vodka.” (I would post her “Fifty Percent” from the 1979 Tony awards, as it’s a devastating and captivating performance – when the Tony’s allowed performers to perform entire songs… but the youtube clip is of an inferior quality).

"The 39 Steps"… and a Birthday Tribute

Before the Oscars last Sunday, I jetted down to the city to take in the matinee of The 39 Steps as part of my Roundabout subscription. I should preface anything I have to say with the following: I am an enormous fan of Alfred Hitchcock. In fact, it’s easier for me to list his films I haven’t seen: Topaz, Marnie, Under Capricorn, The Paradine Case, Spellbound and Jamaica Inn. Don’t worry – I plan on getting to them in the near future. There are many of his films I love and only a couple that I dislike (Torn Curtain is my least favorite; even though as is the case with any lesser Hitchcock, there’s always something to be appreciated). I have been obsessed with him ever since I first caught a glimpse of the shower scene when I was 7 and it scared the bejesus out of me – imagine my horror when I was told only a few minutes later it was time to shower and get ready for bed. I’ve devoured his films, read a lot about them and just enjoy them on many levels. (And a lot of them are surprisingly hilarious. Take for instance Mr. & Mrs. Smith with Carole Lombard in Hitch’s sole screwball comedy; he uses his trademark styles to heighten the comedy and with hilarious results). I can only assume that the more you know Hitchcock, the more you’ll enjoy The 39 Steps.

Anyway, the film is one of Hitchcock’s early classics, released in 1935. I won’t give away much of the plot, as it’s a film that should be seen to be fully appreciated. Robert Donat stars as Richard Hannay, who is an early prototype for Hitchcock’s trademark “wrong man” protagonist. Anyway, there’s a murder; he’s wrongly implicated and gets involved in an espionage plot as he and only he can try and stop the agents from fleeing the country with valuable information. All the while, he is being chased from London into Scotland by the police. Episodic and plot-driven, the film is a tour-de-force for Donat, who is supported by Madeleine Carroll (the first Hitchcock blonde…?) and the always perfect Peggy Ashcroft in a small but crucial role as a Scottish housewife. There are twists and turns and chases across the moors; great one-liners from Donat and one of the sexiest scenes to get by the censors when he and Carroll are handcuffed together (whether or not you see the play or film, you’ll know the one I mean).

“I long for something mindless and trivial. Something utterly pointless…I know! I’ll go to the theater!!”

So Mr. Hannay decides in his opening monologue. You already know that this fateful decision is going to incite a slew of mystery and intrigue. But who knew slapstick comedy was going to be a part of the equation? This stage adaptation opened in London last season, winning the Olivier for Best New Comedy. In an incredible feat of unending creativity, the film is recreated onstage. The catch? There are four actors: one playing Hannay (the spot-on Charles Edwards, who originated the part in London; the lone actress (Jennifer Ferrin) playing the three pivotal female roles and two actors (Arnie Burton and Cliff Saunders) playing EVERYONE ELSE, in a feat that is so audacious and clever, there aren’t enough superlatives to praise the actor’s hard work.

For a film that is as much a travelogue of Scotland as well as thriller, its staging is devilish fun. The proceedings keep things to a minimum with a lot of fun theatrical tricks and clever use of minimalist scenery (and props) to recreate large panoramic scenes (like the Moor chase) and even the uncanny and hilarious ability to recreate the many crowd scenes in the film (the moment where Hannay joins a parade to escape the police brought down the house). The show uses the wit of the screenplay to their best advantage, adding indelible low-comedy that will leave you breathless from excessive laughter. Watch Burton and Saunders as they portray about five characters having separate exchanges all at the same time. My favorite was their recreation of the famed hotel scene where the spies encounter the proprietor and wife. Nothing short of genius on their part.

There are also musical and textual references to other Hitchcock films, many of the music cues getting huge applause and a lot of strangely enjoyable groan-inducing puns (the music hall and vaudeville tradition put to use was welcomed wholeheartedly by the audience). The play flies by; each act is 45 minutes and is a decidedly engaging mix of absurdist parody and low-brow comedy. (Think of say, Airplane! as opposed to Spy Hard). My only qualm to the powers that be – it would be even better if the show ran without an intermission. You don’t have to have seen the film to enjoy the play, but what the hell, it enhances one’s appreciation for Mr. Hitchcock and I still find it quite good 73 years removed. It’s worth of the price of admission alone to see the two supporting actors do their thing; I’m still reeling from their performances.

Oh, and for the curious, Mr. Hitchcock has a cameo. I won’t tell you where or how, but it too stopped the show.

Before I sign off for the night, just wanted to wish the ever-youthful and ever-beautiful Bernadette Peters a happy 60th birthday. That is not a misprint. The beloved diva is reaching her milestone birthday looking nowhere near her age. Hopefully you all put on your favorite BP album (what did you listen to, I’m curious? I listened to Sunday in the Park With George) and take a glass to celebrate. This raises an important question: when is Bernadette coming back to Broadway and in what star vehicle? (Whatever the answer, it’s not soon enough).