Tag: Review

It’s an honor and a joy…

I did four shows in one week. I think that could be a personal record. August on Tony Sunday. Gypsy first post-Tony. Then Friday evening I took in the Roundabout revival of Les Liaisons Dangereuses and Sunday afternoon Curtains.

When I go to the theatre alone, it’s very much a gamble the sort of audience experience I will have. I was most fortunate that my mezzanine seat was traded in for a center orchestra spot. I had the most wonderful conversation with a very classy, middle-aged couple who love the theater immensely and go as often as they can, whether together or alone. We discussed everything about the current season, the Tonys, what we were most looking forward to the coming year. It was akin to our blogger brunches, deep common bond stemming from a genuine enjoyment of the live theatre experience. I greatly enjoyed my twenty minutes spent with this witty, urbane couple prior to the show. Plus the engaging 15 minutes intermission (I was asked if I wanted anything from the bar. God, I love manners).

Then the houselights dimmed and the curtain came up on Ms. Laura Linney looking resplendent in period costumes and a surprisingly drab set. (Roundabout, you gave Old Acquintance an applause worthy second act set, you had to skimp on an opulent period production?) Les Liaisons, which first played Broadway in 1987 with Alan Rickman and Lindsay Duncan (that must have been some production) is adapted from the novel by Choderlos de Laclos by Christopher Hampton. My connection with the story goes back to an 18th century literature course I took in college. Truth be told, I didn’t care for it when I read it, studied it or when we watched the 1988 film adaptation of Hampton’s play Dangerous Liaisons with all its Oscar nominated glory and Glenn Close. This let to some trepidation from me upon spending the money to see the show, but I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to see Laura Linney onstage. That was the sole reason for going.

The current production is decidedly uneven. Clocking in at 2 hours and 45 minutes, it makes for a rather long evening. And though she proved fascinating to watch on stage and was giving 110%, Linney felt miscast as the Marquise de Merteuil. The reason to see it surprisingly enough turns out to be English actor Ben Daniels in his Broadway debut as Valmont. The word that springs to mind most to describe him onstage would be fearless. An engaging, witty and foppish presence, the play loses steam whenever he isn’t around. (The audience gasped en masse when he dropped his robe in the forced seduction scene). The scenes he has with Linney are the most interesting and compelling, everything else feels like waste. Mamie Gummer (aka Meryl Streep’s daughter) is making her Broadway debut as the virginal Cecile and Sian Philips has the choice supporting role of Madame de Rosemonde. Well, actually the entire supporting cast was underwhelming. I couldn’t help but think how interesting this story would be as a mere two-hander, akin to the style of the original novel. I was glad for the opportunity to see the two actors, but I still don’t like it.

Things were much more entertaining at Curtains. Now, for whatever reasons (financial or otherwise) I’d held off on seeing the Kander and Ebb musical, though my desire to see it was never in question from the first announcement of its out of town tryout. I saw the original cast of Spamalot the week before the Tonys, and I thought David Hyde Pierce was the most Tony worthy of the three stars, yet the only one overlooked for a nomination! His “You Won’t Succeed on Broadway” was a colossal showstopper, and he proved himself a successful – if unlikely – musical comedy star.

Curtains isn’t a perfect musical comedy. There are incredible flaws, but I’m assuming that stems from the unfortunate fact that both bookwriter Peter Stone and lyricist Fred Ebb passed away while the musical was still in development. While John Kander continued the project, bringing Rupert Holmes on board to finish. The story is a murder mystery set at the Colonial Theatre during the out of town tryout of a 1959 musical. The leading lady, who is atrocious, is killed during her curtain call and everyone in the company is kept in the theatre while the affable Detective Cioffi, a big theatrephile alternately solves the crime and helps turn the show into a hit. There is a great deal of charm and heart to the show, which is probably why I admired it. The book’s structure could have used some work, especially the first twenty minutes or so. Also, there were issues to be had with some of the lyrics – mostly in the show-within-a-show’s songs. In particular, the big production number “Thataway,” the word “bitch” or the lyrics “what’s that stirring in my pants” are two lyrics that would never have been considered for a stage musical, especially in 1959 Boston (where things were too often banned for being too salacious). (It has to be Rupert Holmes contribution as Kander and Ebb would have been aware of what would fly and what wouldn’t).

David Hyde Pierce provided the lone upset at the 2007 Tony awards with his win over Raul Esparza (much to the chagrin of many Company enthusiasts). Truth be told, I enjoy a good upset, so it made me almost hit the floor when Bernadette Peters shouted out his name as the winner. You could also tell that he was just equally shocked through his extraordinarily gracious and humble acceptance. His performance was stellar; a musical comedy turn that was funny, offbeat and surprisingly touching. Plus, he had one of the most convincing Boston accents I’ve ever heard. Karen Ziemba was everything I wanted her to be and more – a winning performer giving her all. And at 50, she shows no signs of slowing down or aging. Seriously, the woman looks like she’s in her late 30s, early 40s. And dances like she’s 20. “Thataway” stopped the show. Debra Monk was out, but Patty Goble was on, giving a strong performance as the ballsy producer Carmen Bernstein, reminiscent of a broad Andrea Martin. Jason Danieley’s tenor soared on the lovely “I Miss the Music.” Noah Racey and Megan Sikora were superlative dancers. Edward Hibbert got the best lines and the most laughs from his wry lines as the flamboyantly acerbic British director. Erin Davie has yet to shirk off her Little Edie-isms, and that distracted from her performance. I think out of the score, the only song that felt like a total dud was “The Woman’s Dead.” It wasn’t funny, it didn’t work and only provided amusement in conductor David Loud’s reprise “The Man is Dead” at the top of the second act. Aside from that, “Show People,” “Music,” “It’s a Business” – it was a tuneful musical comedy score. I haven’t been able to get the infectious melody for “Thataway” out of my head.

The production was solid. Great orchestrations, clever choreography and good staging. I couldn’t help but be reminded of Destry Rides Again when looking at the scenes from Robbin’ Hood. (A western musical on Broadway in 1959, yeah, it was bound to happen). It felt like I was watching a Golden Age show. Not necessarily one of the top-tier, but a solid B musical. For a contemporary musical comedy it was especially wonderful in that it wasn’t overtly tongue in cheek or self-referential, which has become the norm these days. It wasn’t perfect, I readily admit that. But if it provides a genuine, grin-inducing, feel-good experience, who cares? After leaving the Al Hirschfeld Theatre (last time I was there it was the Martin Beck), I couldn’t help but be pleased that in a few years this show will reach the high school realm. For educational theatre, particularly on the high school level, it will provide a great male lead for those unlikely to be considered for similar roles in classic titles. The show closes this coming Sunday, so hurry if you can.

While I didn’t make any acquaintances at the Hirschfeld, on the train ride home, I encountered an elderly couple that had attended Chicago. The cue was “I hear Gypsy is excellent.” Of course I had to corroborate their source. It led to an engaging conversation that lasted for the entire train ride. Again, the common bond was the love of the theatre. The husband recalled his first Broadway experience, which was the original production of The Diary of Anne Frank with Joseph Schildkraut. The wife immediately one-upped him by recounting her experience seeing The King and I with Gertrude Lawrence. She even went on to tell how the night she went, the Queen of the Netherlands was in attendance, making it all the more special for her. When I mentioned that I wished I was there, she told me ‘You’re young. When you’re older, you’ll hear the same thing from the younger generations when you tell them you’re story. It evolves like that and that is part of what makes it so special.”

And I think with those sage words, I bid you a good night!

"Everything’s Coming Up Laura"

As per my new tradition, I attended a post-Tony performance for the second year in a row. Last year was Grey Gardens, this year it was the revival of Gypsy, you know, the one with the short broad who sings loud? For those of you who know, Patti LuPone, Boyd Gaines and Laura Benanti were all recipients of the Tony award the other evening for their work in this production. A whole gang of us ended up at the show – which included a pre-show dinner at Angus.

The energy in a post-Tony win house is indescribable. A mutual admiration society develops between the kids onstage and the kids in the house. The Gypsy overture began; always a crowd favorite. I noticed Patti LuPone had entered the house with a small stage management entourage and proceeded to get prepared to go on. I had deja vu flashbacks to the final performance of the 2003 revival. On her cue, LuPone vaulted down the aisle of the St. James to the reception of a standing ovation from the crowd. To assuage the fans, she broke and took a very short but deep bow, then got back to work. And here is where I express my disappointment. I had an almost immediate sinking feeling as she began her lines. In the first several scenes, LuPone overshot the runway. Her deliveries were extravagantly broad, and she was playing to the house, not for character. “I hope they didn’t make a huge mistake Sunday night” was the thought that crossed my mind just before “Some People” (which is where the normalcy seemed to return to her performance). Well, it’s not a huge mistake. Either she brought it back down, or I adjusted to her style because from that point onward I was okay with her performance.

Boyd Gaines and Laura Benanti received extensive applause. Gaines is very amiable onstage – the perfect Herbie, unlikely to be better realized by other actors. For the latter, it was so lengthy, the alarm clock sound cue went to the intermission cell phone cue. (I sat just in front of the sound booth during the first act; second row center for the second). The audience was very genuinely moved when Benanti spontaneously burst into tears at the reception. Of course, that also proved to be the moment that Benanti gave the shining star-turn performance of the decade.

If I live to be 115, I will never see “The Strip” so brilliantly executed. Benanti was, if anything, even better than the previous two times I’d seen her in the production. Her moments – discovery of kinship with June in “If Momma Was Married,” the crush on Tulsa – how “All I Need is the Girl” is there for her (great point, Noah), the devastation in the act one finale – both of Tulsa’s marriage to June, and how that sets off her mother. Not to mention the moment she realizes she has an ally and the potential for the normalcy she’s desired in Herbie. Then came the second act, with her refreshingly honest take on the dialogue, mining the moments without overshooting her runway. Many tears onstage and in the house when she looked into that mirror and realized she was pretty. And how. Her “Strip.” The awkwardness and almost disgust at what’s she doing, until she realizes she has the audience in the palm of her hand. It’s a miraculous moment as you see the shades of her confidence grow – and turn into superstardom. It’s all sorts of funny and sexy – her acting is superb. In the dressing room scene, she dominated Patti. The awkward silence that followed was brittle, real and ripe with the tension and embarrassment that follow confrontations of that calilber. How moving though, was the scene following “Rose’s Turn”? I can’t get over it. She is the heart and soul of this revival. Patti, for all her intensity (her ferocious “Turn” received the usual Routledge – an emotional tour de force so expected at this point, it’s almost cliche – relax, I said almost) and pathos, just wasn’t the highlight for me last night. It was Benanti, hands down.

I did enjoy the second act on the whole, more than the first. I made eye contact with both Patti and Laura. I winked at Patti, swooned over Laura. And the story goes on.

However, the show could use a stage manager or Mr. Laurents himself to give some notes. Actors should be allowed to test the waters during a long run, but they should also remember that it is their job first and foremost to tell the story. Leigh Ann Larkin is going over the top with her monotone Louise (particularly in the office scene). The show ran long last night, till eleven, and not just because of the standing ovations. Other stage business is superfluous and detrimental to the experience. And let’s be real about this, kids- Gypsy doesn’t need any help, just the restoration of the original libretto. Rose loses facets of dimension without the Kringelein scene and the necessary “Small World” reprise after Herbie walks out (among other bits that have been altered).

As I was walking away from the St. James towards Times Square, I passed Anderson Cooper the moment Patti came out of the stage and the stage door crowd’s roar echoed through the cavernous city block. His look was priceless and I only wish I’d had a camera for it.

A Stream of Consciousness on "Inner Voices"

– The Zipper Factory Theatre is one of the more unique performance spaces I’ve seen in my life. Great is the confusion Roxie and I have upon entering the lobby. Or bar. (It’s both. This is a bit unusual and really cool). Looks like we’re waiting for the rave to begin. (Roxie: “Oh didn’t you read about that. I brought glowsticks.”)

– House opens. General admission. You can pick your own seating. In this case the minivan bench of your choice. (Whaaa?) The atmosphere is more that of an acting conservatory than say a theatre. Has that black box meets thrust stage quality about it.

– Victoria Clark is one of the most superlative talents on the NY stage.

– OMG. Victoria Clark is in a nightgown and playing a character at three distinctively different phases of her life. She’s incredibly genuine as an eleven year old pre-pubescent. The work is musically and dramatically fascinating. Probably the first thirty-minute, three-act play I’ve ever seen.

– Roxie and I are six feet away from Victoria Clark. I imagine it’s akin to what it’s like to be looking into the face of God.

– Tres Ninas is offering Victoria Clark a chance to play a fascinatingly self-destructive divorced alcoholic mother of two who has sex with someone half her age.

– OMFG. That was an orgasm. Strange feeling of deja vu hits…

– Catharsis. Supreme acting through song. Clark has a gift when it comes to subtext and giving a layered, complex performance. The woman to my right is an absolute emotional wreck. And rightly so. The audience gives her a Routledge (mid-show standing ovation). She exits. She is missed already. My neck hurts. It’s the damn van seat.

– The woman in front of us looks like Liz Smith. Is that her?

– What the hell is this girl wearing? Okay. This is the girl from Spring Awakening. It’s Alice Unwrapped. There’s a vamp. I’m already bored. Bring back Vicki.

– So the girl is one of those delusionally weird teens who prides herself on being different. Her dad is in Iraq. This cannot be ending well.

– Dad is missing. Mom goes depressive. Daughter goes delusional. Younger sister sounds like an irritating know-it-all who deserves to be slapped.

– The composer really enjoys Bill Finn.

– This is starting to get tedious. Do we really need thirty minutes to cover what probably should be a ten-minute one-act?

– I would love to hear Victoria Clark’s take on the “Duet for One” from 1600. And see her play Alice Challice in Darling of the Day. She can do anything.

– Jennifer Damiano seems like she needs more time in acting school. Or she should be in the house for Victoria Clark to see how you tell a story, create a complex character and captivate an audience all by your lonesome. Then again, Clark also teaches… hmm…

– Is Bill Finn aware of this?

– Okay, so the little girl is the one who’s mind is still with it. I’m starting to think this story would be more interesting if it came from her perspective. Or the mom’s. Anyone but this girl.

– More vamping.

– I think Bill Finn should sue…

– Okay. She takes off the vest. An interesting concept is marred by poor writing and poor execution. Polite applause. Slight headache. I guess that’s what a thirty minute rip-off of “Passover” from Elegies will do to you.

– Bring back Vicki Clark. Is that Liz Smith? I still can’t tell.

– Ohh. Here’s Barbara Walsh. It’s A Thousand Words Come to Mind. I’m captivated from the way she puts down her handbag.

– Oh my. Mom is dying. This isn’t going to end well either.

– I’ve never seen Barbara Walsh perform before. Now I want to see everything she does from here on out.

– She manages to be quite affecting in disclosing the nature of her relationship with her mother. All the while revealing oh so much about herself in the process. Now that is effective acting.

– Ooh. This has a literary angle. The mom tells her daughter she was the inspiration for a character in Philip Roth’s The Human Stain. Mom starts to learn of her mother for the first time in her life.

– Um.. Mom is dying. Someone in the upper decks shrieks with laughter. Let the awkward times roll… Walsh blazed on unfazed. We turn back to Walsh, fazed.

– Borders? What the hell? Sorry. Bizarre loyalty to B&N.

– Barbara Walsh should be the next Vera in Mame. Her ability to be wry and dry is succinct. But she is also so damn touching. Damiano should stick around for this master class too. I have a sudden desire to see Walsh and Clark work opposite each other. And I want to see Walsh play Charlotte in A Little Night Music.

– The mom has died. Time for the denouement. We discover that she was a frustrated writer who never realized her dreams. Daughter understands her now more than ever. They’ve finally connected.

– The letter from Philip Roth. Exactly the satisfactory touch the audience wanted. Many sighs from all over.

– My neck pain has spread into a tension headache. All from that awkward seating. Time to go.

– No, it isn’t Liz Smith.

"La Fille du Regiment"

My unending thanks to Sarah for inviting me to the open house dress rehearsal of Donizetti’s La Fille du Regiment at the Met this morning. It was only my second time there, but what an extraordinary event (and one I’d like to do again and again). The production built around the French diva Natalie Dessay is nothing short of a vibrant joy. Fast and funny, it was a sheer pleasure from start to finish – and it was a “dress rehearsal.” I can only imagine the kind of magic that will emanate through that hallowed hall come opening night on Monday.

I have to admit, I wasn’t familiar with the opera prior to today. In fact, I had forgotten what I was seeing as I made a frenzied trip to NY this morning (don’t ask, it was too traumatic). I soon found out, and am now officially in love with the piece. A delectable opera comique by Donizetti (whose Lucia was a recent smash for Dessay in the same venue), this production was first done in Vienna and Covent Garden, and is now making (what will be) it’s triumphant Met debut. Seriously, the buzz is such that it sold out months ago. They keep it fresh and hilarious. Oh – and Marian Seldes has two marvelous cameos in the second act (non-singing). Who could ask for more?

Peruvian-born tenor Juan Diego Florez tackles the first act aria “Ah, mes amis” with such death defying technique that it seemed like no one wanted the opera to continue. There are nine high C’s in that aria. Yes NINE. HIGH C’S. And he nailed each and everyone with such ease, you’d have thought he was born singing this. I will never forget hearing that aria for the first time, and how I knew before it was over that the audience was going to go completely nuts. (In reading about it, his performance at La Scala in February 2007 broke the 74 year embargo on encores as he sang the entire aria – and nine high C’s for the enraptured audience). Dessay was in top form all around. A tomboyish and playful heroine, she relished in the physical comedy and athleticism in her characterization, tossing off coloratura trills while skipping around the stage, being tossed aloft and even in tantrum. I never thought I’d ever hear a tomboy expressed musically as a coloratura soprano. The match of the two leads was impeccable and find it hard to see or hear anyone else in the roles (all due respect to Pavarotti, Sutherland, Pons, et al). British mezzo-soprano Felicity Palmer was the Marquise and you know what? We could use a gem like her in grande dame musical comedy roles.

Afterwards, there was an enjoyable if slightly staid talk back session. Marian was marvelous as ever. Then Sally, Sarah and myself headed to O’Neals for lunch and a few drinks (and hours of endless conversation). A glorious afternoon.

Fortunately this production will be broadcast. This is from an earlier production of the opera (with Dessay & Florez).

UK Television segment on the opera (and its stars):

“Ah! Mes Amis”

“Chacun le Sait, Chacun le Dit”

“Salut a la France”

A Most Enchanted Evening

Well, my whirlwind week of theatre has come to an end. I have had the unusual privilege of book-ending this week-long extravaganza with two separate opening night performances. A week ago it was Patti LuPone’s ferocious turn in Gypsy. This time, it’s the sumptuous majesty that is South Pacific, one of the most romantic scores ever composed, returning in its first ever Broadway revival. In a season of stellar revivals, this one manages to be the crowning achievement. In fact, right here and right now, I say that it deserves the Tony for Best Musical Revival.

You see, I started out appreciating musical theatre in part because of Rodgers and Hammerstein. My father, not much for film or television, especially theatre (and their celebrities), made a notable exception with various film adaptations of R&H works. Every year during that annual telecast of The Sound of Music, I would get to watch it. And every year until I was 11, I was sent to bed before it was finished.

Anyway, my father’s favorite film remained SOM, though occasionally I caught a glimpse of another musical on TV… as a very young child, I thought it was a specifically a war film, till I caught a rather ugly island woman who kept changing colors burst into song about a “Valley High” or something. (I was five). I would learn with the 1995 release of The Sound of Movies hosted by Shirley Jones on A&E that there was more to this songwriting team than Julie Andrews twirling on an alp. I became fascinated to learn that most were originally stage musicals, something that didn’t really hit home till later, and I became obsessed with film musicals, an obsession that would transplant itself into the American musical theatre.

South Pacific would maintain its popularity in my household. My father became a Marine in 1958, the year the film was released – and anything military was de rigeur when it came to his television programming. South Pacific, for me, is what I consider to be the best of the Rodgers and Hammerstein canon. Now, I loves me some Dick and Oscar, but this earns the title of best of the best. The film is a less-than-stellar adaptation; what with those color filters (which didn’t bother me till I learned cynicism and naturalism) and some underwhelming performances. That didn’t stop me from seeking out Lumahai Beach on Kauai nine years ago when on vacation. And yes, that’s where Mitzi Gaynor washed Rossano Brazzi out of her hair.

For what it’s worth, the original production opened April 7, 1949 at the Majestic Theatre. Co-librettist Josh Logan directed. Mary Martin and Ezio Pinza were the stars. They were supported by Juanita Hall, Myron McCormick and William Tabbert. WWII was only four years removed. The show walked away with the hearts of the critics and audiences. Its success also included a rare Pulitzer Prize win for a musical (only the second up to that point) and 9 Tony Awards (the original South Pacific is the only production – play or musical – to have swept all four acting categories). The original cast album sold many, many copies. Everyone fell in love with “Some Enchanted Evening,” the breakout success of the score. It ran in NY until 1954, racking up 1925 performances. It would play two successful years in London as well, starring Martin and Wilbur Evans. The film would come in 1958. Mixed critical reception didn’t stop the film from becoming a blockbuster.

The musical called attention to racial prejudice and injustice with its two parallel love stories, culled from the vibrant short stories of James Michener, Tales of the South Pacific (which, if you haven’t read it, do, Mr. Michener has a poetic lyricism in his prose). On one hand you have Emile de Becque, worldly and successful plantation owner romancing the hick Arkansan Nellie Forbush. On the other, the upper class Main Liner Joe Cable finds himself torn between his social station and his undying love for the Tonkinese Liat. Throw in colorful secondary situations, mostly Billis and his laundry, shower and souvenir racket, and the gravity of a country battling one of the most important wars in its history and you’ve got a full plate.

The show has received numerous revivals in London, a terrible TV remake starring Glenn Close (but no cigar…) and has become a staple of high school and community theatres worldwide. However, the new production that opened tonight at the Vivian Beaumont Theatre marks the first Broadway revival of this acclaimed masterpiece. Not that the show hasn’t been seen in NY: there was an acclaimed Musicals of Lincoln Center engagement in 1967 starring Florence Henderson (recently released on CD) and was presented by the NYCO in 1987 (both productions played the NY State Theatre). I was there in 2005 for the concert at Carnegie Hall with Reba McEntire and Brian Stokes Mitchell.

This revival is without a doubt one of the most rapturous evenings I’ve ever spent in a theatre, especially in terms of a musical revival. No expense was spared in transforming the immense stage of the Vivian Beaumont into a tropical paradise. What is one of the most effective orchestrations in musical theatre (by the late, great Robert Russell Bennett) is on full display here – in a rare departure from the norm, there are 30 players in the pit. Never have I been so moved by the thrilling nuance of a Broadway orchestra, the harp, the strings, the brass, the winds, come together for a lush three hour display of emotion and grandeur.

One of the highlights of the show was the presentation of the orchestra itself. During the lengthy overture (where, for once, people didn’t talk and paid adamant attention) the stage pulled back to reveal the orchestra conducted by Ted Sperling, in tie and tails, after which the orchestra took their call. The audience went complete nuts over the whole affair. The orchestra was revealed during the act one finale, and each section got a chance to stand for the toe-tapping entr’acte. We were also privileged to see them one more time after the curtain call.

The casting couldn’t have been more impeccable. There are forty (!) actors in the production, led by Kelli O’Hara, who it seems as we are learning each year, can pretty much do anything. Here she inhabits Nellie Forbush, the cock-eyed optimist and knucklehead, but with more thought and a keen awareness of the sobering nature of her war-time duties. Paulo Szot is Emile de Becque, the enigmatic and virile French planter, with whom she falls in love; equally sizable in voice and presence. His haunting treatise on the pain of lost love, “This Nearly Was Mine,” often woefully overlooked due to the popularity of “Some Enchanted Evening”, brought the proceedings to a screeching halt as the audience cheered. Matthew Morrison brings a new shades of darkness and upper class cockiness to Lt. Joe Cable, only to make his tragic romance even more prescient than ever. His voice also sounds more legit than I’ve ever heard him before. Loretta Ables Sayre is Bloody Mary, played for character and not for laughs, though she earns them. Never before have I felt that Mary had her daughter’s best interest in mind, as opposed to coming across like an unscrupulous madam. Danny Burstein as Luther Billis channeled Bert Lahr. The ladies and gentlemen of the ensemble were all spectacular.

Bartlett Sher has once again proved himself to be one of the most spectacular theatre directors working today. He keeps his productions honest, naturalistic and never boring. He guides the cinematic nature of the score with precision and depth, moving seamlessly from one scene into the next, all the while raising the expectations of revivals from the Golden Age. The themes are never rammed down our throats, the singing is a natural emotional extension of character and plot and in a departure from what has become the norm, we are not blasted out of our seats by highly ill-advise pop singing and over-amplification. There is one notable subtle (or perhaps not so subtle) touch in that the black soldiers are segregated from the white, which creates secondary friction during several of the “in-one” moments that assist the scene changes. It’s a testament to Lincoln Center that they trusted the work of Rodgers, Hammerstein and Logan, paying it homage while finding new colors for the 21st century (and not feeling the need to completely overhaul the work). It may be a period piece, but the new revival makes it more timeless than ever before.

I may have shifted in my sensibilities as I’ve gotten older. My adoration of Rodgers and Hammerstein made way for the rueful irony of Sondheim’s sophistication. I’ve been more akin to complex and occasionally pretentious works that tend to challenge rather than entertain (though usually they do both). I’ve never been able to completely grasp it when people dismiss the musical, for whatever reason. Granted, the second act may not be as polished as the first (not many Golden Age shows have that going for them), but Sher and his cast have managed to make the issues of racial prejudice and bigotry as real as possible, especially since (unfortunately) these themes still play a major role in our society today. What’s more important is that this revival doesn’t play as a museum piece. South Pacific, with its music and its lyrics and its everlasting characters are more alive and palpable than ever before. And in this new staging, we are reminded of where we’ve been, where we are and where we’ve yet to go.

Peter Filichia responded to my excited e-mail regarding my opening night ticket: “And congrats on that SOUTH PACIFIC ticket. I hope that the writers of today’s musicals are all there and then apologize to New York immediately following.”

I may have known South Pacific for years, but never before has it moved me to tears. Long may it run.

On a side note: Angela Lansbury, Henry and Mary Rodgers Guettel, Tommy Tune, Alice Playten, Frank Rich, James Naughton, William Finn, Jack O’Brien, Phyllis Newman and Rebecca Luker were among the first nighters that I saw.

"A White House Cantata"

Colossal failure. That’s the summation I generally give 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the Leonard Bernstein-Alan Jay Lerner flop that played a tumultuously chaotic out of town tryout and limped into New York for a 7 performance run. Where did it go wrong? Probably at the very start. Lerner was frustrated over the Watergate scandal of 1972 and collaborated with Bernstein on a concept musical that would examine the first hundred years of the White House, with an emphasis on race relations through that time. Highly ambitious stuff.

Tonight I was at the condensed revision of the piece (which eliminated practically the entire book and focused on the historical musical scenes) called A White House Cantata. The event was presented by the Collegiate Chorale under the artistic direction of Tony award winning actor Roger Rees and marked the NY premiere of this revision, and the first time the score had been heard in NY since it closed May 8, 1976.

The piece calls out for a more theatrical staging rather than the staid classical production it received tonight. The Collegiate Chorale stood and sat upstage in a semi circle, with four chairs and four mike stands (everyone had a binder) downstage. Chills were to be had several times throughout. “Take Care of This House” and “To Make Us Proud” (which reminded me so much of “Make Our Garden Grow”) are stunning pieces. The crescendo of the latter was beyond gorgeous. (“To Make Us Proud” should never have been cut as the finale. It is a stunning summation of liberal patriotism – and that last note is held forever and a day). Hearing those original orchestrations (by Bernstein, Hershy Kay and Sid Ramin) was worth the price of admission alone. Dwayne Croft was amusing as the President, and in stellar voice, if no great shakes as an actor. Emily Pulley‘s “Duet for One” was well executed – she found the comedy where June Anderson failed in the initial presentation/recording ten years ago. And needless to say, the number stopped the show. However – she did not take the high D above C at the end which separates the good First Ladies from the superlative First Ladies (like Patricia Routledge and Judy Kaye, who made the first official recording of the showcase for John McGlinn). Robert Mack and Anita Johnson were fine as Lud and Seena; especially with the infectious “I Love My Wife.” Rees also made an amusing cameo as Admiral Cockburn during the “Sonatina.”

As the show is performed now, with practically nothing left of the book it runs an intermission-less 90 minutes. Basically it’s everything you hear on the disappointingly lifeless album they recorded after the London premiere ten years ago (with Thomas Hampson and June Anderson). But I feel though that by removing the entire book, you’re left with just songs and little context. They tried to make up for that with a historical Powerpoint presentation that lasted the entire performance. They also wisely used supertitles for lyrical clarity. Which brings me to my aforementioned quibble. The piece is eminently theatrical and not classical – it would have fared better with musical theatre actors in the leads. Say for instance, Marc Kudisch and Victoria Clark as the President and First Lady. (Let’s face it, Victoria Clark should just do the Patricia Routledge songbook). There was a lack of cohesion that was made even more obvious with the lack of dialogue or even a narration. Hmm.. That sounds like an idea for the cantata, link the fragmented musical sequences with narrative. That would make more sense than just jumping from one musical piece to another. It could also help the audience care more for Lud and Seena, since they are the fictional characters of the piece, who really come out of nowhere and go nowhere, except to serve as catalysts for racial discussion within the musical numbers. We should have an opportunity to care for them. But let’s face it, it is a problematic show, otherwise it wouldn’t be obsessed by elitists and curious flop fiends.

I am, as many of you are well aware, fascinated to no end by the piece, especially since it’s one of such breadth and scope. And there seems to be a masterwork yearning to break out of the confines of the show in each of its revisions. I found that there was more fun to the piece when it was a Broadway musical and not an oratorio (the piece demands the energy and acting, especially in regards to the satiric numbers). They’ve reinstated the much more reserved original Prelude as opposed to the lively overture that opened the show on Broadway (which is decidedly Bernsteinian) and the framework of “Rehearse” which is infectious and little tidbits, like “The Honor of Your Presence is Requested” which for whatever reason I just love the melodic line. The impeachment scene between President Johnson and Seena is one of the most compelling dialogues that the show had to offer. It was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the servants rarely interact with the President and First Lady in the revision. The fragmentation sort of defeats the author’s original intent, doesn’t it?

The following quote from John Adams’ correspondence with his wife Abigail, written on his second day of occupancy was missing – and it makes for a beauty of a line:

“I pray Heaven to bestow the best of blessings on this House, and all that shall hereafter inhabit it. May none but honest and wise men ever rule under this roof.”

After the show, there was a highly engaging talkback hosted by Seth Rudetsky with Richard Muenz, Beth Fowler, co-director George Faison and Fowler’s husband John Witham (they met during this production and were married a year later). Also present was Warren Hoge, who covered the show during its preview period in 1976 – and told an amusing anecdote about how he sang “Take Care of This House” to Ronald Reagan at a White House dinner. One of the audience questions was actually a comment from a man who was at the closing and recalled how Routledge received such an ovation for “Duet for One” that she performed an encore. Fowler backed him up saying it was the only time she had ever seen anything like that “They wouldn’t let the show go on.” She also does a rather amusing Pat Routledge impersonation. They mused on what worked and didn’t work. The chaos of rehearsals and being out of town. The confusion of having rehearsed half a scene, only to perform the new first half and the old second half at the evening perform. Yikes. Many mixed reactions on the original work from all onstage. “A wonderful-terrible experience.” They were all thrilled to hear the score again – and Faison summed it up best when he said that Lerner and Bernstein were trying to say too much.

Erik Haagensen, who was cited in the concert notes as having written an article about the musical for Show Music magazine in 1992, has worked on an estate-approved revision of the work that was done in the early 90s. What a shame we can’t get his work out in the open, because I feel that there is a masterwork among this ruin that has yet to surface.

One final quibble. For a show that deals with race it was jarring that the chorale was almost all white, with nary an African American woman in sight, save for Ms. Johnson.

While it was a treat to hear the piece live in NY, A White House Cantata is not and should not be the final word on this score.

One-Armed Dancing and the Celtic aura of "Juno"

It’s a whirlwind couple of days for me. In the span of two days I’ll have had the privilege of hearing two favorite flops scores. Unbelievable, huh? Tonight it was Juno, the Blitzstein-Stein adaptation of Sean O’Casey‘s acclaimed tragicomedy Juno and the Paycock at City Center Encores! Tomorrow night it will be A White House Cantata, the concert revision of Bernstein-Lerner’s 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, which is being presented by the Collegiate Chorale at Frederick Rose Theatre.

There is much to admire in Juno. Running for only 16 performances in 1959, the musical was plagued by the lack of a solid director, as well as being considered far too dark for its time. I treasure the original cast album. The score is fascinating to no end: Shirley Booth and Melvyn Douglas lead the way as Juno and Jack Boyle, with support from Monte Amundsen as their willful daughter Mary and Jack MacGowran (Squire Danaher’s lackey from The Quiet Man, playing a similarly sycophantic role) as Boyle’s drinking buddy Joxer Daly. Tommy Rall was Johnny, their son, who was left with one arm and the guilt of betraying his comrade in the rebellion to the British. When a British attorney comes to town, he says that the Boyle’s have come into an inheritance, and let’s just say it is downhill from there.

There are certain issues to be had with the musical. One: Juno and the Paycock is considered so deft a masterpiece that many critics feel musicalizing the material was necessary. Two: (and this could be from the Encores! treatment, not necessarily the show itself) the libretto is underwhelming and lacking cohesion. Three: Garry Hynes could have done a better job staging the piece. Four: A query more so than a critique… would Juno have fared better if it had involved the Irish civil war of 1922 (when the play is set) as opposed to the Irish rebellion against the English of 1921 (a not so subtle shift for which the author’s received O’Casey’s permission).

I am certainly most grateful to the Encores! crew for sticking to their mission this year (as much as I loved the Follies) and giving us these shows. I couldn’t help but feel that there were many directorial choices that could have been fleshed out further. Victoria Clark was a force of nature as Juno, the sharp tongued and long-suffering (yet good-hearted) earth mother. She sang with conviction and made the most of what is, musically, an underwritten role. Conrad Shuck was amusing, if not entirely successful as the Captain. He sang with gusto, but he missed much of the humor, particularly as Joxer’s foil in “Daarlin’ Man” (Listening to the cast album afterward, was a night and day experience; I was actually laughing out loud at the number). A stand-out was Tyler Hanes as Johnny; while we didn’t get the first act ballet, we got the second act nightmare in which the character faces much of his demons and fears onstage. It was a particularly breathtaking moment, and as pointed out to me, really difficult because he’s dancing with one arm. Celia Keenan-Bolger was excellent as Mary, even if her upper register is a bit under-developed. Michael Arden was good if vocally underwhelming (You couldn’t give us a real Irish tenor for the resplendent “One Kind Word”? Or at least one who could sustain those notes under Mary’s dialogue?). Celia’s art songs were fine; though “My True Heart” got awkward when it became a soft-shoe duet. Keep it a solo. But dramatically those songs are a marvel. The orchestrations are full and rich; Blitzstein really was wondrous at capturing the feel and texture of Irish folk music (even a parody of a John McCormack mother-worshipping tear-jerker). The “Hymn” and staged funeral should have not been placed upstage, I feel it would have had a better impact had it been placed downstage, with a more prescient force.

The surprise of the night to me? Juno and Mary’s madrigal “Bird Upon a Tree” stopped the show. And what a gloriously sung piece it was too.

Not a perfect piece but I’ll take it. And I’d gladly like to see it tried and attempted to be fixed once again…. all for love 😉

Milo O’Shea was in the house last night; why wasn’t the man onstage?

Had a grand time at Seppi‘s afterward with some grand company and some daarlin’ white Russians. One flop down, one to go…

"The Ecdysiast Play"

Oh you know the one I mean. Where crazed patrons choke one another. Where vents fall from the ceiling and light bulbs explode. Oh, and curtains come down on Laura Benanti. Yes. It’s the latest revival of Gypsy. It’s a little strange for me since it’s the first time I’ve seen a second production of a show on Broadway (especially in so short a lapse between). Bernadette Peters. Remember her? Well, anyway, Gypsy is welcome back on the Rialto anytime, as far as I’m concerned. And tonight was one of those electric nights where everything aligned for that certain 5’2″ bundle of dynamite, Ms. Patti LuPone in what early ads were referring to “the role she was born to play.” They were not wrong.

Patti came.
Patti saw.
Patti conquered.

Taking the early mold of her previous experiences with the musical, both at the Ravinia Festival in ’06 (the start of the journey that culminates in her opening last night) and the City Center presentation last summer, LuPone has refined her character with the precision of a diamond cutter. Rose is a determined mother of two very lovely young girls that she thrusts into the throes of show business in an effort to assuage her own unfulfilled ambitions. It just screams musical comedy, no? Well, anyway. It’s genius. The score. The orchestrations (and that overture. yowza!) The book. It’s almost fool-proof (so why did you tamper with it, Mr. Laurents?) You follow through Rose, the character as she goes from unmitigated determination (“Some People”) through desperation when she uses Louise in an effort to mask her emotional scarring and fear of failure (“Everything’s Coming Up Roses”) through her eventual breakdown when confronted with the reality that both show business and daughters have passed her by (her defeat: “Rose’s Turn”). Might I add, Patti’s diction was almost too perfect (not a problem, just an observation) and her vocals were the best I’ve ever heard live. Just for the record.

From Mr. Brantley, who was decidedly mixed this summer:

“When Ms. LuPone delivers “Rose’s Turn,” she’s building a bridge for an audience to walk right into one woman’s nervous breakdown. There is no separation at all between song and character, which is what happens in those uncommon moments when musicals reach upward to achieve their ideal reasons to be. This Gypsy spends much of its time in such intoxicating air.”

Nuance, chemistry and impressively layered acting abounds. From Patti. From Laura. From Boyd. From Leigh Ann. From Nemora. From Alison. From Tony. All of whom are superlative in their roles. (For my money, Laura, Boyd and Tony are definitive in theirs). As for the ending, I’m not really sure what I think. I guess if you tamper with what has been for years, you’re bound to notice. But on the flip side, the staging of the new ending is a bit more naturalistic and honed into the unresolved rift between mother and daughters. It’s not really going to make or break the experience. That happened five minutes before.

Did I mention, it was opening night? Yep. Noah and I sat in the balcony behind a deluded crone and her rude mother. One insisted on leaning forward the entire show and the other chimed in with an extensive crinkling of a candy wrapper, for literally the entire show; except when she leaned forward. That group clearly had no idea what was going on and looked out of water when the crowd continually went to pieces, especially the overwhelming standing ovation received at the end of the “Turn.” Thankfully it didn’t detract too much from the overall experience. Kari and Sarah were also among the first nighters reveling in what was a thrilling experience. Post show, we had dinner at Angus McIndoe’s. As Kari and I sat waiting like wallflowers for Noah and Sarah while they kibbitzed, I spotted none other than Mr. Stephen Sondheim at the bar. Kari and I immediately made our way over; not to speak with him make no mistake, but to sit near at the bar like the total theatre geeks we became in about, oh I don’t know, 3 seconds. (Kari surreptitiously snapped a photo with her iphone – and no one was the wiser. And she was literally trembling from her proximity to musical theatre’s living deity). Dinner was fantastic. The booze was fantastic – and I drank almost half a bottle of water – not a Poland Spring or Fiji, no I guzzled one the size of a large merlot bottle – as we made our way out. Pity it wasn’t vodka or gin. I might have had another act to my evening.

Those sighted: Angela Lansbury, Mandy Patinkin, Laura Linney (flawless with little to no makeup), Martha Plimpton, Corky from Life Goes On, Thomas Meehan, John Weidman. Others I probably had no clue were in the house. They even had a red carpet and an official opening night sticker on the playbill.

Oh, and after her curtain call, Patti LuPone lay fully prostrate onstage to her cast. It was that kind of event. Stephen Sondheim and Arthur Laurents got their props. And Sondheim gave a shout out to the late Jule Styne. (Class act). Though it appears Laurents gave Patti notes as they exited the stage…

Hey guys. Gypsy is back on Broadway. What the hell are you doing reading my blog? GET TICKETS AND GO NOW!!!!

"We can’t stay here, honey, we gotta go on…"

Let it be known. I love Shirley Booth. Her films were too few and far between; and she is largely forgotten by many today save for those who remember the TV series Hazel. However, it should be Booth had an exemplary career onstage (from 1925-1970):

Liz Imbrie in the original company of The Philadelphia Story
Ruth Sherwood in the original company of My Sister Eileen
Bunny Watson in the original company of The Desk Set
Leona Samish in the original company of The Time of the Cuckoo

That isn’t even taking into consideration her musical theatre career which started with A Tree Grows in Brooklyn in 1951 (where she sings the classic “He Had Refinement” – the delivery on the cast album is so definitive you’ll never want to hear anyone else do it) and continued a downward spiral through By the Beautiful Sea and the flops Juno (a personal favorite) and Look to the Lilies.

The role for which she will be most regarded is that of Lola Delaney in William Inge‘s Come Back, Little Sheba. Booth created the part in the original Broadway production and would later recreate it for film opposite Burt Lancaster; she would become the first person to win the Tony and Oscar for the same role. Watching Booth is an unmitigated joy. A shining example of a character actress, Booth’s distinctively nasal voice, her radiating warmth and stellar range turns the film version of Sheba into an acting master class. (If you have not seen this film and are still reading this, you really should be on your way to Netflix now). Booth evokes that kind of soulful and loving reaction that is reserved mostly for beloved aunts and grandmothers. You know what I mean.

How do you describe Lola Delaney? In certain ways she reminds me of my mother: incredibly talkative, always friendly to everyone she meets and willing to talk about everything. That’s about where the similarities end. Lola is basically trapped in her marriage to Doc, her recovering alcoholic husband who is driven back to the bottle by the seemingly virginal boarder, Marie that lives with them. Marie’s a little ho. She adores the Delaney’s but she is carrying on with the muscular and lascivious Turk while all but engaged to another guy back home. She functions as a surrogate daughter for the childless Lola and Doc, but she also inadvertently wakes the demons surrounding their marriage. Basically, it’s as though they’ve settled, but Marie reminds them both of their lost youth and innocence in their own ways. By the play’s end, so much that has been left unspoken is – and as a couple must learn to cope and go on with their lives.

Not much happens, but it’s a marvel to behold. Especially by S. Epatha Merkerson in the Broadway revival. Lola is, aside from being charming and endearing, also a character of deceptive simplicity. She isn’t written with great histrionics of many other characters of the era, in fact there is an innate honesty in the way that Inge created his character. In fact many of her earthshattering moments are when she isn’t speaking at all. Merkerson’s performance is so genuine that you never felt you were watching an actress perform, but a lonely housewife managed to wander onstage and we became a part of her life, albeit for two hours. And more importantly, you never once would think you were looking at Anita van Buren, the formidable police lieutenant she’s portrayed on Law & Order for more than a decade.

There is a brilliantly constructed sequence in the first act that depicts Lola’s life after her husband has gone to work and Marie has left for school. In the first pause after she is alone, just the way she looks around the room while slowly rubbing her hands down her waist speaks inordinate volumes. Then she encounters the new mailman, whom she invites in for water and inundates with small talk. Similarly, she invites the milkman in as well immediately following. Both cases, she is desperate for kindness and kinship, the warmth and neediness that is there because Doc is complacent but emotionally distant. With the postman, she delivers a rapid-fire monologue just for the sake of conversation that leaves him wanting to leave; but the remnants of the coquettish flirt of her youth manage to win him over. Same for the milkman; whom she is even more successful for admiring his athletic physique. By the end of both brief sequences, she has won them over. This scene plays importance during the denouement where Lola is too distracted to see the mailman seal a letter and place it in the mailbox (a fulfillment of an early promise) or appreciate the milkman’s photo display in the health and fitness magazine. Yet it displays to the audience the kind of positive impact Lola’s innate goodness has on others. Not to mention how she befriended her next door neighbor Mrs. Coffman, whom at first she suspected of killing Sheba, but during the violent drunken climax, is first on hand to help Lola.

I’m loathe to reveal more of the plot since the piece isn’t quite the chestnut you’d expect. There are certain elements that could be considered archaic, but the play is unexpected in many ways. And for that, you should treat yourself to a quick read of the script, or better yet, watching the film adaptation.

The show was woefully a limited engagement (that closed on 3.16). If you got to see this actress at her peak, count yourself among the lucky. If you missed it, more’s the pity. Let’s hope S. Epatha Merkerson comes back to the boards as soon as possible.