Doin’ it for “Sugar”

Lo and behold, Bruce Kimmel has done it again. It seems every few weeks he’s going to push me further and further into the poor house with one of his now-essential limited edition cast album releases. This year has brought forth two different recordings of Promises, Promises and now his label Kritzerland has reissued the long out-of-print Sugar, the 1972 musical adaptation of the all-time classic Some Like It Hot. I first heard the score about six years ago, just as a good friend of mine was preparing to audition for the show at his college.

Some Like It Hot is one of the funniest movies ever made, with three iconic performances from Jack Lemmon, Tony Curtis and an endearingly blowsy Marilyn Monroe under the superb direction of Billy Wilder. Comedian Joe E. Brown got one of his most famous roles – and one of the most famous last lines in film history – as the ultra wealthy, mother-worshiping Osgood Fielding, Jr. who sets his sights on Lemmon’s character. It ranks #1 on the AFI’s list of all-time comedies and is one of those rare films that only gets funnier and funnier with repeat viewings. A musical version was not much of a surprise; producer David Merrick was already responsible for smash hit Promises, Promises based on Wilder’s The Apartment.

However, the critical response wasn’t as enthusiastic for Sugar. There were troubles out of town and there were constant changes being made. But there was some bad blood between composer Jule Styne, lyricist Bob Merrill and director-choreographer Gower Champion (who were all fresh from the out-of-town failure Prettybelle). The show did, however, play well to audiences and managed a respectable 505 performance run, turning a modest profit. The show made its London premiere in 1992 starring Tommy Steele, revised and reverted back to the film’s title. Most recently, a 2002 national tour went out with Tony Curtis graduating into the Joe E. Brown role.

The score isn’t on par with Gypsy, or even for that matter, Subways Are for Sleeping or Darling of the Day. But even lesser Jule Styne is better than most – it’s ripe with fun, tuneful melodies that speak to old-school musical comedy. Ultimately, I don’t think a musical adaptation was particularly necessary – how can you improve on a popular classic? But that doesn’t mean the album doesn’t make for a fun listen. Things gets off to a marvelous start with a smashing overture, an amusing opener “Penniless Bums” and a rip-roarin’ burlesque showstopper “The Beauty That Drives Men Mad,” in which the duo make their first appearance in their alter ego drag. Robert Morse, from all reports, offered a comic tour de force onstage (in the Lemmon role) that folks still recall fondly. He registers best, particularly his half of the genial “We Could Be Close” (he does get some of the best lyrics).

Tony Roberts (stepping into the Curtis role) had some of the more serious and less memorable musical moments, including the ballad “It’s Always Love,” which to me feels like it was interpolated from another musical entirely. Elaine Joyce is pleasant, but has the unenviable task of trying to live up to Monroe’s legacy and cannot. Cyril Ritchard takes on the Joe E. Brown role of Osgood Fielding, Jr. His duet with Morse is hilarious. Sheila Smith, a reliable standby for Angela Lansbury (Mame), Elaine Stritch (Company) and several principle roles in Follies, has the opportunity to step into the limelight as the female bandleader.

The CD was original released by Rykodisc around the same time of the first CD release of Promise, Promises with similar aural deficiencies. The new release is another 2-disc special edition. The first disc is for purists, a cleaned up release of the original album mix. The second disc offers a remixed edition, bringing greater clarity to the performances, bringing out undiscovered colors in Phil Lang’s superb orchestration and bringing down the excessive reverb that was one of album producer Mitch Miller’s trademarks. (Speaking of Miller, don’t stop playing the second disc after the finale…there’s a surprise). The result is stunning. While I’ve known the score for five years, in a way it was like hearing it for the first time. Kimmel has written the accompanying liner notes, which delve into the show’s transition from screen to stage.

I’m always curious to hear Kimmel will bring out next. Almost all of the recent cast albums he has issued were originally United Artists record releases (now owned by MGM Records) and most are on CD for the first time. The original cast recording seems to become more and more of a niche market with each passing day. The sales of cast albums and the expense to produce them these days make it a risky endeavor. Some shows will recoup the costs, many don’t. Interest in many of the lost shows seems to be waning as avid collectors and show music enthusiasts seem to be disappearing. As someone who collects every show album I can get my hands on, I am always grateful when a new show gets recorded, but now I’m even more grateful when someone like Kimmel takes the initiative to bring out a show that has fallen into obscurity. (I do hope that he is able to release A Time for Singing).

The McHugh Medley

The musical Sugar Babies was a very unique enterprise: it was a star-driven revue and tribute to the era of burlesque. Bawdy sketches, numbers and routines – both old and new – made up the evening which starred MGM stalwarts Ann Miller (Occupation: STAR!) and Mickey Rooney (in his Broadway debut). “The show was well received by critics and audiences alike; a genuine crowd pleaser whose sole purpose was pure entertainment; a sort of final farewell to the long dormant genre. There was some skepticism about the show from insiders and outsiders and it wasn’t expected to be a sell-out smash, but that’s exactly what it became.

The musical opened at the Mark Hellinger Theatre in 1979, and settled in for a three year run, clocking in at 1208 performances; the final success to play the house. (During the 80s, there was one flop after another until the Nederlanders sold the building to the Times Square Church in 1991). Miller and Rooney headlined the Broadway production for its entire run and later toured. He only missed one scheduled performance during his seven years performing the show. His understudy never went on; when he vacationed during the Broadway engagement, Joey Bishop, Rip Taylor and Eddie Bracken were brought in to cover. As for that one performance he missed on tour? The producers just canceled it.  (The first national tour starring Carol Channing and Robert Morse was short lived).

Sugar Babies was nominated for 8 Tony Awards but went home empty-handed. Another little musical that year named Evita came to town, the event of that particular season. It didn’t matter, the show was a solid hit. Nationwide audiences were given the chance to see favorites Rooney and Miller on the Tony telecast when they performed the eleven o’clock “McHugh Medley” featuring various songs of noted songwriter Jimmy McHugh:

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Three Years

Every October rolls around and I get a bit sentimental: I started the blog on October 3 and traditionally I like to acknowledge the site’s anniversary. It’s been three years now since I first started typing a somewhat ambivalent post about myself and my theatrical interests. So I figure this something akin to a “State of the Blog” address. The conversation keeps me growing; I feel with each post I become a stronger writer and look forward to connecting with my fellow bloggers and close friends. I was so fortunate to unveil the new look this past June, designed by Chris Van Patten which sparked my own renewed interest in what I was doing. In brief, I’m grateful for the readership, the dialogues and the many good times that have come out of this site. I look forward to our discourse on the 2010-11 season.

“The Social Network”

Member since: November 30, 2004.

It’s not really a momentous occasion in my life, but it’s something I remember. The only reason I do remember the exact date I joined Facebook is because sign-up dates were part of the member profile for its first couple of years. When I joined, it was still a site specifically for college students and it seemed I got there just before most of my friends. From my small window at New Paltz, I was able to observe much of Facebook’s evolution and expansion into the world’s predominant social networking site. The terms “Facebook me” or “I’ll find you on Facebook” became part of the lexicon. Hell, I can still remember when the big thing to do on the site was to poke someone.

Now there’s The Social Network, a film depicting the creation of the website, from its inception at Harvard by founder Mark Zuckerberg to its rise to global phenomenon. Directed by David Fincher with a crackerjack script by Aaron Sorkin, it’s adapted from The Accidental Billionaires by Ben Mezrich. Turns out that the greatest social media site in the world was the indirect result of a break-up. The film starts with this scene, introducing us immediately to Jesse Eisenberg‘s Zuckerberg and tells us everything we need to know about this wunderkind genius. Eisenberg has been known for playing quirky, awkward nerds in a wide variety of films from The Squid and the Whale to Zombieland. In The Social Network he reaches a career pinnacle, with a sobering, captivating performance that is guaranteed to bring him an Oscar nomination.

The film has Oscar written all over it: Picture, Director, Screenplay, Editing. Using Zuckerberg’s various law suit depositions as a framing device (which works brilliantly), the film is able to simultaneously depict the cause and effect of the website and its impact on the world with great clarity. Sorkin’s brittle, rapid-fire dialogue sparkles from beginning to end; he had me from that brilliant break-up to the final image. Fincher’s direction is spare and the pacing is expressively fast. The film rarely gives the viewer a chance to breathe and that only adds to the overall experience, laughing at a smart-ass line one second, feeling rage the next. The Social Network is brittle, brutal and unflinching.

There’s a great chance for Justin Timberlake, playing Napster founder Sean Parker as my buddy Matt put it, “our generation’s Gordon Gekko,” to receive a supporting actor nomination. Even better and more deserving of a nomination and a win is Andrew Garfield as Eduardo Saverin, Zuckerberg’s best friend, business partner and subject of the greatest betrayal. Later, I was rather surprised to realize I was feeling sorry for someone (Saverin) whose net worth is now $1.1 billion.

Interestingly enough, while I was expecting myself to hate Zuckerberg (I’m no fan of his misguided theories regarding privacy), but I found myself surprisingly empathetic. Whether or not the depiction in the film is 100% accurate or not, he is portrayed as a near tragic anti-hero rather than a villain (the real villain of Sorkin’s script is Parker). He’s a genius, someone with an arrogant need to prove his intelligence and lacking in all social graces, which seemed to speak more to Asperger’s or crippling social awkwardness than anything else. I was floored by the character’s dialogue, and Eisenberg’s seemingly effortless domination of the film, particularly those scenes in deposition. And for the record: I don’t think Zuckerberg stole the idea for Facebook from the Winklevoss twins or anyone else.

Even if Mark Zuckerberg hadn’t invented Facebook, he’d still be the youngest billionaire in history and the subject to our interest and scorn. Like artists, inventors and other men of genius, Zuckerberg seems to be that sort of man understands the world better than most, but has great difficulty participating in it. He’d still have found a way to change the way the world interacts with one another. Rashida Jones plays the assistant to Zuckerberg’s lawyer and she is not only a rare sympathetic presence but is there to ask the questions I think most people would like to ask Zuckerberg (well, at least those I had while watching). As the credits rolled, I turned to my friend and said, “It’s lonely at the top.”

After the film I spent an hour talking, seemingly nonstop, about the film, its reflection on our society and how much our daily lives are impacted by social media. I don’t think it’s an entirely negative thing, myself, but I understand more fully why some people are loath to join these various sites and the overwhelming need people have to maintain some semblance of privacy in an world that becomes more and more transparent every day. As the story progressed during the film, I thought to myself “I remember when that happened” and it unexpectedly became a reflection of my own college experience and post-graduate life. (On a tangent there is no love lost in the film for Harvard life, depicted as one of great privilege and arrogance).

I’m a blogger because I’m a writer and will never profess to be anything but a Luddite when it comes to computer science, but it’s interesting to see the ways Zuckerberg has impacted my own life. Many of my friends are people I know through my blog and our distance makes Facebook and Twitter the ideal platforms for keeping in touch. I still prefer long-form writing but with computers, e-mail, blogging, and now micro-blogging, using a pen seems to be as passe as the 8-track. That’s what has changed – these sites make the world smaller and our connections more immediate than ever. However, I do remain very conscious of what I write and make it a point to maintain some privacy in my life. No one needs to know every single thing about me, which is something that many tend to forget when dealing with the online world. As Zuckerberg’s ex girlfriend in the film says “It’s not written in pencil, it’s written in ink.” Whether or not this is a good thing has yet to be determined, but regardless we can’t unring that bell.

Will Julia Roberts & Meryl Streep battle it out in “August: Osage County” film?

It’s been reported this evening by Deadline that the Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts are in talks for the film version of August: Osage County. I’ve heard rumors about this casting for months now, but this is the first time I’ve seen anything in print. The other rumor I heard was that Mike Nichols would direct, instead TV show runner and writer John Wells will helm the film, his second feature. (His first, The Company Men, hits the big screen on October 22).

Playwright Tracy Letts has adapted his own play for the screen and truthfully I’m quite curious to see how he has adapted the work. The play was first produced at Steppenwolf during the summer of 2007, starting something of a sensation in Chicago. It came to Broadway’s Imperial Theatre for a limited engagement that fall, quickly extending its engagement and transferring next door to the Music Box for an open-ended run. Most members of the original cast gathered for London and Australian engagements which quickly became must-see events.

It’s no secret that I’m not the biggest Streep fan – not that I don’t think she’s a good actress, I just don’t think she’s the greatest. However, as much as I was hoping for someone more interesting (or perhaps even Southern) in this part, I’m certain she will deliver a professional performance that is sure to add another Oscar nomination to her belt. While Barbara Fordham is the lead in the sense of the story’s arc and character development (it is ultimately her story), Violet gets all the memorable one-liners and is ultimately a terrifying and antagonizing presence. The role’s originator Deanna Dunagan swept the NY theatre awards while starring in the Broadway run and her replacements Estelle Parsons and Phylicia Rashad received rave reviews.

However, it’s the casting of Barbara Fordham that has me scratching my head. Roberts is an established movie star with the requisite charm, but I’ve always found her range to be limited. I could be wrong and she might work in the part, but I have serious doubts. I was admittedly blown away by the powerhouse performance Amy Morton gave in the original stage production and would have, in an ideal world, liked seeing her take on the role for the screen adaptation. But in lieu of Morton, I can’t help think that Laura Linney would ultimately be the best choice. Julia seems more ideal for Karen or Ivy.  However, for the sheer resemblance factor I’d put Jennifer Ehle and Natasha McElhone opposite Streep. No word on any other casting.

I am, and have been, curious as to how this play would open up on the big screen. The play runs three and a half hours, with a large cast of characters (and some emotional pyrotechnics) but the action is limite to the Weston house, which is itself a character. Many of the family skeletons come dancing out of the shadowed cobwebs in a situation that is even explicitly described as “fraught” by the character Mattie Fae. It will be interesting to see whether or not the film will successfully open up on film.

Perhaps I’ve been spoiled: I was there on Broadway for the show’s opening night. I can’t imagine a better experience for this work than live onstage, fueling the audience with the hilarious and heartbreaking antics of the extended Weston clan. Seeing the show seven times in NY, I heard reactions to scenes that I haven’t heard at other musicals, let alone plays. Morton herself likened the experience to being at a hockey game. Then again, the perfect solution would have been taping that original cast (especially the definitive Dennis Letts as Beverly) for airing on PBS or Showtime.

Again, this is only word that they are in negotiations. It doesn’t necessarily mean either one is definitely taking on the project (though they’d be fools to pass up on these great roles). Personally, I would just prefer a more interesting lineup.

“Brief Encounter” on Broadway

England. 1938. A railway station. A gust of wind. A speck of grit flies into a woman’s eye. These are the chain of events which instigate a genuine connection between two people, who happen to be married to others. This love is unexpected and they embark on a passionate, if intensely guarded affair, meeting every Thursday in the cafe where they met. This comes from the pen of Noel Coward, first as the one act play Still Life, part of the ten play cycle Life at 8:30 and later as the Oscar nominated classic Brief Encounter directed by David Lean. It’s an overwhelming exercise in restraint, no matter the incarnation.

This new stage incarnation of Brief Encounter now onstage at Studio 54 is, in short, an Anglophile’s dream. English vernacular, customs, emotional repression, the confines of station and class are all displayed onstage in ways both sublime and surreal. The heart of the story is this pained affair between the couple. Still waters run deep, and director Emma Rice has dipped into a bag of theatrical tricks to bring this story of restraint to unexpected and fanciful heights, finding ways of expressing the passion deep beneath the surface. The production, conceived and written by Rice (combining elements from both Still Life and Brief Encounter) originated at Kneehigh Theatre in Leeds, England and enjoyed success in the West End, St Ann’s Warehouse and the Guthrie before arriving on Broadway, with much of its cast intact.

One of the most impressive elements of Rice’s direction is the absolute sincerity given to the central relationship. Melodramatic material, especially from this bygone era, can easily be seen and played as camp or arch, but the characters are given great humanity by Tristan Sturrock and Hannah Yelland. Instead of just putting Brief Encounter onstage, this work expands much of story with amusing meta-theatrics, clever projections and some other surprises which I won’t spoil here. In essence, it becomes part musical, part 39 Steps and part devastating. Contrasting comic relief is supplied by the stellar supporting cast, who play various roles as well as instruments in the onstage band. Annette McLaughlin is a production highlight as Myrtle, the cafe proprietress. Tall, lithe and funny, the production gives her the opportunity to show that there is practically nothing she can’t do. Dorothy Atkinson scores big laughs as her assistant Myrtle. Props also to ensemble member Damon Daunno, who sings much of the show’s music before, during and after the show.

One of the most important elements, aside from the projections, is the use of Noel Coward’s songs to underscore and heighten particular moments throughout. I was jarred by a couple of anachronistic moments; the song sung in 50s rock and roll style and a reference to Marlon Brando don’t sit well with something set in 1938. But overall, the result adds to the show’s charm. The stage show wisely reprises Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No.2, used to popular effect in the 1945 film. While we’re on the subject, will someone please record a cast album? This is one play with music I would love to listen to.

I have one considerable reservation regarding the venue: the show should be in a smaller house. If you’re in the orchestra yes, I can see how one can get easily immersed. However, up in the mezzanine there was no audience interaction, no decor, no cucumber sandwiches; absolutely nothing to bring us into the atmosphere of the play. We couldn’t hear the band singing in the aisles pre-show, which seems to be a big part of the experience if you’re seated below. We saw them going from section to section, but no matter how hard we strained we couldn’t hear them until the show was about to start. (And I would just shave about five minutes from the running time, but that’s another minor quibble).

However, once the show gets started, it’s hard not to get swept away. And if you’re an old Anglophile like myself, you’ll find yourself quite taken. One last thing – when the play is over, head to the orchestra section bar. The cast heads to the back of the house for a post-show performance and I think you’ll want to stick around. (And the leggy McLaughlin is also on hand to serve sandwiches). The show is presented by Roundabout as a limited engagement, currently scheduled to close December 5.

Broadway Flea Market 2010

Up until a couple days ago, I had no intention of going to the 25th annual Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS Broadway flea market in Shubert Alley and 44th Street. I’d never gone and had never really given it a thought before and honestly I don’t know why. Then talking about weekend plans with Steve, who suggested going to have a look, I thought, “Why not?” Then gradually my excitement for the event built and built until I was the excitable little kid on Christmas Eve. I love browsing through flea markets and second hand stores (you never know what treasures you will find) and well, it goes without saying I love Broadway. The thought of combining the two was overwhelming. Sure there were other things like fancy auctions (silent and live), celebrity signings and photo ops, but I was more interested in the things I would find and the people I would see around the market.

My day started early. In fact, I was aware how early and how long the day would be that I went to bed before midnight for the first time in seven years. (I know, right…?) I met Steve outside Junior’s a little after 10:00 and the crowd was already out in full force. Neither of us had done it before, but we were both quite excited. The first person I saw was good ol’ reliable Noah, who beelined it to the tables to get Bernadette’s concert on DVD. Noah gave me a brief orientation of the layout and warned me not to blow all my money in fell swoop. Rest assured I didn’t, but boy was I tempted.

Tables from the various shows and organizations were set up in an L-shape down 44th Street from 8th Avenue and swinging to the left into Shubert Alley. I had gone in early because I knew Steve had a matinee but I decided on the way down that I would stay for the duration: many other twitter and blog friends would be around and it seemed like a fun way of catching up with folks. While I was expecting to spend quality time with some, I didn’t realize how many I would be meeting in person for the first time.

What I loved about the entire day was that everyone was in high spirits. I was able to slip into full conversations with total strangers about shows or records or anything that happened to be going on at that moment. Vendors were cheerfully hawking their wares (My favorite was the grandmother holding the sign “Will read a Vagina Monologue for donation”). There was this feeling of good cheer all over the place, friends and strangers gathered in this collective of good will that exemplified the generosity and overall awesomeness of the Broadway community. You could browse tables for show merchandise, old and new. Playbills, programs, window cards, props, cast album LPs and CDs, sheet music, shirts, keychains, and even baked goods.

All things considered, I think I exercised great restraint in my selections. My main goal was to find a window card from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, which I knew was would be a challenge. I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t find it, but I searched high and low. I was also really amazed by my friends who were also on the look out! The first thing I bought was an old libretto of The Consul published by Schirmer’s. For $2! I later found a window card for my beloved revival of Ragtime for a mere $5. (At this point, I was seriously realizing just how much trouble I could get into).

I’d been weaving through the crowd and its an easy environment to get separated from your cohorts. One minute I was with Steve, the next I was on my own (though it turned out that Steve was being exceptionally generous elsewhere). That fluidity was indicative of the day, you sort of meandered every which way and would eventually happen upon someone. I got to have some quality conversation with Kevin David Thomas of A Little Night Music at their table (I was tempted with a sparkly Miss Saigon sweatshirt, but I passed) and he was one of the most enthusiastic about my 1600 quest. That’s where I happened upon the one and only Robbie Rozelle, who was making the rounds. With the exception of Steve, Linda Buchwald (Pataphysical Sci) and Byrne Harrison (StageBuzz), all my encounters were quite random. There were two close friends from high school and my best friend’s cousins. Small world, isn’t it? Plus I got to see Seth Christenfeld and meet David Rigano and James Sims. If I’m forgetting anyone, I do apologize.

I received a text from Follies enthusiast and friend Chris Lavin, who was browsing before heading to work on a show downtown, that he was looking for me. He approached me with this cardboard box filled with LPs which he promptly handed to me. Turns out he was at one of the tables near POTO, about to browse this particular box when the someone working the table said “$3 and whole thing is yours.” He felt he couldn’t pass up that golden opportunity. So he rifled through for what he wanted (all original cast LPs of Sondheim shows from 1970-1984) and left the rest for me. Thus began the image of me, trundling about the bazaar with the box o’ stuff. I put my Ragtime window card in there, the keychain, my playbills and the Coram Boy magnet. Trekking around with your own box brings around reactions of bemusement and curiosity (lots of people asked if I was selling).

My LP acquisitions: Side By Side By Sondheim, Carnival, The Boy Friend (film soundtrack with Twiggy), Brigadoon (with Shirley Jones, Jack Cassidy & Susan Johnson), Sunday in the Park with George, Christy, Henry Sweet Henry, The Rothschilds, Sweet Charity, I Do! I Do!, Raisin, A Doll’s Life, Philemon, Paint Your Wagon and Milk and Honey (the reissue; I already have the original using the show logo).

Playbill treasures: Sugar Babies, She Loves Me (original!!), Tovarich (Vivien Leigh’s Tony winning musical star turn!), Private Lives (Tammy Grimes), 6 Rms Riv Vu, A Time for Singing, Beekman Place (Arlene Francis!), Me and My Girl (from London’s Adelphi, original cast Robert Lindsay and Emma Thompson as Sally), City of Angels, Goldilocks, The Norman Conquests (OBC), The Best Little Whorehouse Goes Public, My Fair Lady (Rex Harrison’s 1981 revival at the Uris) and Lettice & Lovage.

Later in the day, I also had the opportunity to meet Mary Stout as she browsed through the market. Her charm is endless; we chatted for a few moments about the wonderful AMC series Remember WENN, which is where I first saw her years ago. We both agreed it was far too short-lived and deserved a DVD release. (Hey Rupert Holmes, get on that!!) Byrne took our picture, and is the only pictorial evidence of my box o’ stuff (and no, I have no idea why I didn’t put it down for the shot):

The most unexpected purchase of the day: a “Gingy” signed by Tyne Daly from the Love, Loss and What I Wore. I don’t know what I’ll do with it, but well it’s for a good cause. My buddy Jodi Schoenbrun-Carter, who works on the show as its associate general manager, was working effortless at their table to bring in the funds. It proved near impossible to maneuver with my now-iconic box o’ stuff and this large sketch. (There was one guy working the event whose path I kept crossing and each time he seemed more and more amazed that I will still standing). Byrne was kind enough to help me carry it, because there was still quite a bit of flea market time left. Eventually he was braving the crowds with it as a shield. It was quite a cumbersome load altogether that he graciously offered to store my original “Tyne” until my next NYC visit.

You’d think my day would be over once  I was east of Broadway, but no. There were two folks walking immediately behind me with their wares talking about the Belasco and Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown and I found a moment of rare inspiration to chime in on their conversation, to talk about the “flop houses.” I think they were at first taken aback, but they saw the Ragtime poster sticking out and we sparked up a delightful conversation all the way into Grand Central.  Ashley and Robbie are avid Broadwayites;  the talk ran the gamut from Gypsy with Bernadette and Patti to the [tos] crew to our final shout-out to Madeline Kahn as we parted ways. That geniality is indicative of the flea market experience. I doubt I could have asked for a better day, with its mix of friends old and new. And it was all for a good cause.

BC/EFA is reporting today that the flea market made a total of $476,917! Not bad, friends, not bad. I look forward to next year to see if we can best that tally (and the continuation of my 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue quest).  If you were unable to attend this year, you can still make a donation via their website.

Pure Joy

The other night, a good friend and I were having a conversation about No, No Nanette and he seemed both surprised and bemused that I was just over the moon espousing the show’s virtues. Though it was two and a half years ago that I saw the show at Encores!, my memories of the Broadway ready revival are vivid and fresh. (Why oh why didn’t this one transfer?!) When asked why I like it so much, the simplest answer I could give was that “It’s pure joy from start to finish.” I’ve been giving that statement a great deal of thought. It’s one of the most honest answers I’ve ever given, but one of the most unique. That’s not to say I don’t find myself regularly having a miserable time at a musical. Far from it. But there are so few shows or productions that give that fizzy champagne/good time feeling – and are able to sustain that feeling from the beginning to end. These are the musicals where I find myself smiling from ear to ear from the first note of the overture until long after I’ve left the theatre, and mostly because of the sheer happiness I feel as a result.

Nanette is definitely one of those shows. The 1971 revisal that is. I’ve heard the original 1925 show with its original arrangements and orchestrations and I honestly feel that they somehow did it better in ’71. The experience of getting the show up and running was a bit of a nightmare, but it produced a surprise smash at the 46th Street Theatre. Folks wanted nostalgia and this show offered a wonderful slice of period flavor, with a familiar score, a simple farcical plot and tap-happy showstoppers. Ralph Burns did the orchestrations, Buster Davis did the vocal arrangements and Luther Henderson provided incidental and dance music.

I knew I was in for a treat the moment the orchestra started playing the overture with strains of “I Want to Be Happy” and I was flooded with warmth from head to toe once the twin grand pianos started playing during “Tea for Two.” My happiness didn’t let up for a long time; I was humming “I Want to Be Happy” ad nauseam, listening to the superb 1971 cast recording. The score (music by Vincent Youmans, lyrics by Irving Caesar and Otto Harbach) is filled with songs that are breezy, light and evoke another era altogether. Listening to the original cast album is just as much fun as seeing the show, from that delightful overture to the finale of “I Want to Be Happy” with the entire cast strumming ukuleles.

Another one is Mame, with one of the freshest, most wondrous original cast albums ever recorded. It gets off to a sock start with those first trilling strings and winds that soar up the octave as the brass belts out the title song. Its orchestrations by Phil Lang are pitch perfect, brassy, bold and exciting. It starts the ball rolling with one gem after another. The Mame score may not be anything revolutionary, but it was musical comedy writing at its finest. Easily my favorite Jerry Herman score and I’ve enjoyed them all. Angela Lansbury shimmers in her star turn – the trumpet blast that was added for the 1998 reissue makes her entrance in gold pajamas all the more vivid. The original show made a musical theatre star of Lansbury, who took the town by storm. Each performance sparkles: Lansbury, Bea Arthur, Jane Connell, Frankie Michaels, Jerry Lanning and Charles Braswell are all wonderful and blessedly definitive. The ensemble is stunning – big voices, lots of great arrangements and an energy that just flies out from the speakers.

Then there’s the title song, a master class of musical comedy unto itself – and the leading lady doesn’t even sing a word of it! It starts slow and builds and builds through several choruses. Then the ensemble breaks into a spirited gallop, by which point the leading lady is still silent but overjoyed and moved. Just when you think it can’t get better, Lang and Pippin bring the gallop back in for the first pullback which consists of a cakewalk across the stage (props to Onna White for the choreography). But it’s not done! It modulates up a half step for the final section, a full-out fortissimo to bring it to its requisite big finish. The banjo is only measures away from needing new strings, the trumpet is blasting a high solo while the trombones descend in the bass line. All through this, the drummer is steadily beating out a simple but insistent 4/4 downbeat. It’s enough to make you stand up and cheer in your living room.

The album, superbly produced by Goddard Lieberson, captures the high spirits of those first days when the show was getting ovations like you would not believe. (SarahB has relayed the story of the title song in Philadelphia bringing the show to such a halt, theatregoers were standing on their chairs). The orchestrations are beautifully balanced and there is that light touch of reverb that made those Columbia albums the best ever recorded. You’d think they’d just recorded it in a theatre, full costume and all. I even like “That How Young I Feel,” which is the one number from the score that most dismiss (though I do wish they had recorded its jitterbug dance break). Mame is an album I would bring to a desert island without having to think twice. I’ve never seen a stage production of the show that has equaled the album, but I’m still waiting for the Broadway revival with Donna Murphy.

These are the kind of things I turn to when I want a score that will make me feel happier. Joy at its simplest is a hard emotion to evoke without causing cavities or a diabetic coma. There are many, many shows that try to force that joy on the audience and those usually seem mechanical and fall flat. The joy I speak of isn’t something tangible. You can’t quite put the finger on it, but there is that quality that makes it stand out from the rest (not unlike star presence). It’s easier to charm, provoke or even get a laugh, than it is to evoke the feeling of pure, unadulterated happiness and elation. There are performances on other albums that give me joy, even if the score doesn’t, or a song here or there. But it’s incredibly hard for a show from first note to last to do it.

These are two of mine, but I know that there are others. What I’d like to know is: what scores bring you joy?

“With One Look”

With the release of Patti LuPone’s memoir, there has been a resurgence in talk about Sunset Boulevard in the message board circuit. The musical of Billy Wilder’s legendary film noir classic was big news and big gossip fodder in the early 90s, with music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. The show opened in London with Patti in the iconic role of Norma Desmond, played in the film by silent star Gloria Swanson (in the performance of her career). However, the reviews for the London run – particularly those of the American critics who flew over – were less than enthusiastic. Thus began a series of events that led to LuPone being replaced for the Broadway run by Glenn Close, who was in the Los Angeles company. Lloyd Webber claimed Paramount studios demanded a movie star in the role and well…you’ll have to read Patti’s book for her perspective on the matters.

The show itself became a vehicle for great female stars, with replacements as notable as the originals. This sort of event hadn’t really happened since the original productions of Hello, Dolly! and Mame in the mid to late 60s. Norma Desmond became a role that women wanted to play. LuPone and Close were both replaced by Betty Buckley. Other Normas in the West End included Petula Clark, Elaine Paige and Rita Moreno. Paige made her Broadway debut with this show, closing the NY production. Diahann Carroll opened Garth Drabinsky’s Toronto production. Many other actresses were interested in playing the role, but the show proved a financial disappointment and was not a juggernaut success like POTO. The set was enormous (and temperamental) with the grand staircase coming down from the flies, etc. It was visually stunning, but I don’t think overall it is a good adaptation of the material. There are some interesting songs, particularly the near-arias composed for Norma. (It’s a shame Sondheim didn’t write his version of it).

It’s not quite the Madame Rose argument, but there are many admirers and detractors of the various Normas who power-belted through the show in the mid-90s. Here are five of them:

Patti LuPone (in the original higher key):

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Glenn Close:

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Betty Buckley:

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Elaine Paige:

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Petula Clark:

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