Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals

Review - Master Class with Tyne Daly on Broadway

One recent trend on Broadway has been a series of revivals of well-regarded plays that, in the harsh light of retrospect, have revealed themselves to be somewhat less than we once thought. The recent production of Equus shone a none-too-flattering light on the play's heavy-handed melodrama and archaic 1970s pop psychology. And the 2008 Broadway revival of A Man for All Seasons had some people wondering whether the title still held true.

And now we have Master Class, which won Terrence McNally his second Tony Award in two years, over the likes of David Hare (Racing Demon), Sam Shepard (Buried Child), and August Wilson (Seven Guitars). I saw Master Class on tour in Boston with Faye Dunaway (who is supposedly writing, directing, and starring in an upcoming film version), and I remember thinking at the time that it was an entertaining, well-wrought, and powerful play.

After seeing the current Broadway revival of Master Class, which is playing Samuel J. Friedman Theatre under the auspices of the Manhattan Theatre Club, I can honestly say that the play remains powerful and entertaining, but as for well-wrought, well, not so much. Upon second viewing, the play feels more like a superficial character study, with its central diva surrounded by straw men and women who serve as tragicomic fodder for her ravings and punchlines.

Make no mistake, though, it's a hell of a lot of fun, especially when the actress in question has the depth of characterization within her to make Callas believable. By all accounts, Zoe Caldwell and Patti LuPone served this function more than admirably. And, fortunately for the current production, Tyne Daly brings her own brand of fire and fury to the role. Of course, we knew Tyne had it in her, at least based on her kick-ass, Tony-winning turn as Rose in Gypsy. But here, Daly successfully sheds the trappings of her typical working-class roles and emerges as a powerhouse of regal and cultivated strength.

As you may know, Master Class is based on a series of actual master classes that famed opera singer Maria Callas held at Juilliard in the 1970s. McNally is clearly having a ball as he paints a portrait of Callas as both a brilliant performer and an exacting tyrant. He tries to give us a sense of how Callas came to be the woman she was at the time of the play, but the flashbacks come off as facile psychoanalysis: her family treated her poorly, her sister was the pretty one, Aristotle Onassis acted as though she were his possession, all of her nemeses were plotting her demise, etc. That said, Tyne Daly is mesmerizing during these flashbacks, as she is during the rest of the play, bringing to McNally's often stilted words a depth and dynamism that they don't fully earn on their own.

In truth, Master Class almost works as character exploration, but remains unconvincing as genuine drama. The play's chief liability arises in its thinly drawn supporting characters, who are not so much people as types, each a convenient foil to show us some different side of Callas. McNally also falls back to frequently on jokey, easy humor, and much of the dialog from the supporting players seems like a series of setups for Callas punchlines.

On the positive side, McNally is clearly not interested in simply portraying Callas as a heartless monster, hectoring her students to the point of tears and tantrums. He also reveals a bit of what made a Callas great artist as well. For Callas, a great opera performance wasn't so much about vocal technique (Callas famously lost her voice after about 10 years of performing), but rather about achieving a fully realized character portrayal, and bringing out the drama inherent in the music.

Master Class is at its most convincing and thrilling when Callas is exhorting her charges to find the drama behind the music. McNally receives able assistance here from director Stephen Wadsworth, who shows that he knows well the workings of the master class, having overseen many of them himself at Juilliard. Especially fun to watch is Callas's third coaching, with the fiery Sharon Graham, played here by Sierra Boggess (and in the original production by Audra McDonald, who won a Tony Award for that performance). Boggess, last seen on Broadway with a tail fin and in Heelys as Ariel in The Little Mermaid, has terrific presence and superbly clean soprano voice. Daly and Boggess prove to be quite a dynamic paring, particularly as the two spar during Sharon's numerous abortive attempts at getting through Lady Macbeth's letter scene.

I must concede that most of the critics were a lot more positive about Master Class than I, and based on the positive response, the production has been extended to September 4th. I recommend the show if you want to see a fierce and furious Tyne Daly, who truthfully is a revelation in the role. And the play is never less than entertaining. But as a piece of serious drama, and a tribute to one of the giants of the opera stage, Master Class is somewhat less than masterful.

Review - Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown on Broadway

It sounded like a great idea. Take a beloved film, add some hotshot creatives, and throw in one of the most stellar casts to hit Broadway in years. But what could have been a scintillating delight of a musical is instead an abysmal mess, every bit as soporific as the famed Valium-laced gazpacho at the center of its frenzied plot. 

I refer, of course, to Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, the unpardonable, untenable disaster of a musical that opened last night at New York's lavishly refurbished Belasco Theatre.

Again, it really should have worked. Pedro Almodóvar's 1988 film has become a cult classic. David Yazbek supplied the wonderfully tuneful and witty scores to both The Full Monty and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. Jeffrey Lane's book for the latter show is funny and fresh. And Tony-winner Bartlett Sher could seemingly do no wrong after his twin triumphs directing The Light in the Piazza and South Pacific.

And then there's that cast: triple divas Sherie Rene Scott, Patti LuPone, and Laura Benanti, matched with the vocal and comedic prowess of Brian Stokes Mitchell and Danny Burstein. On paper, this show was a blockbuster in the making. 

So, what happened? I blame Bart Sher. I personally felt that his award-winning work on South Pacific was overrated, but at least that production had some sense of cohesion and focus. Not Women on the Verge, at least not when I saw the show a few weeks back. Sher seemed to be at a total loss with this material, demonstrating no flare for comedy whatsoever, not that the lame, lifeless material was doing him any favors. It really makes me wonder: Who green-lighted this mess? The show had numerous high-profile industry-only workshops under the auspices of the august Lincoln Center Theater. How was it that someone saw this show in raw form and thought it looked produceable?

As I tracked the show through its preview period, it seemed clear the members of the creative team were at a total loss. All we kept hearing about, at least at first, were the technical difficulties they were having with the set. Well, the set (designed by Michael Yeargan) is one of the most pointlessly complicated atrocities I've ever encountered, an eye-numbing barrage of moving panels, digital projections (by Sven Ortel), and a dangerous-looking glass monolith of a skylight that stagehands had to come onstage to nudge into place at the performance I saw.

To cover the Rube Goldberg-ian set changes, the show features an off-putting number of complicated crossovers between scenes, with supposedly comic business that never received a single laugh, at least not from me. So, it appears that the production staff were so concerned about working out the mechanics that they seemed to lose track of the fact that the show itself wasn't working. (Hear that, Julie Taymor?)

Later in previews, the staff seemed to realize that the show needed more help than the set, but at that point it was probably too late. The show I saw was, in my estimation, unfixable, with no redeeming qualities except for the game and professional cast. The changes that did occur have apparently amounted to rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. For example, when I saw the show, the number "Madrid" opened the second act, but now it's become the opening number. Well, "Madrid" is a dull, generic song that's meant to establish time and place, but bears little specific relation to the rest of the show. When I heard they were making this the opening number, I knew they really didn't have a clue as to how to fix the show.

So, what could have been the musical event of the season has instead revealed itself as an awkward lumbering bore.

Review - Coco at The York Theater, Musicals in Mufti

My abject apologies, dear reader, for my prolonged absence from the blogosphere. The new semester at the Boston Conservatory has started up with a vengeance, and I've been like the magician in the Frosty cartoon: busy, busy, busy.

Fortunately, I was able to carve out some time last Saturday for a day trip to New York to catch Coco at the York Theater, presented as part of its marvelous Musicals in Mufti series.

As the Mufti program points out, Coco was "suggested by incidents from the life of Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel." The original Broadway production of Coco has long been a guilty obsession of mine, partly because it was the only Broadway musical that the glorious Katharine Hepburn ever performed in. Yes, Katherine Hepburn did a musical. And, no, she can't really sing. But that doesn't matter. As Rex Harrison demonstrated in My Fair Lady and Richard Burton confirmed in Camelot, actors don't necessarily need to be strong singers to give convincing and affecting performances in musicals.

Plus you have that score by André Previn, set to lyrics by the occasionally great Alan Jay Lerner. Sure, it's no My Fair Lady, but it's full of its own share of wonders and fascinations. Previn's music is a lot more tuneful than people give it credit for, and Lerner's lyrics are sometimes clever, sometimes heartfelt, and sometimes painfully forced. My particular favorite in the clever department comes from "The World Belongs to the Young," and has Coco Chanel declaring "I want Paree to wake and see/without me there's a vacancy." Lerner also grinds out some genuine groaners. In "The Money Rings Out Like Freedom," Coco relates an anecdote regarding her invention of slacks for women, and in the process is forced to sing: "Soon all the sisters and the cousins and the aunts/Were calling we The Pirate of Men's Pants." (Get it? Gilbert & Sullivan? "Poor Wandering One" and all that?)

Well, despite my abiding love for the cast recording, Coco wasn't holding may attention in its Mufti presentation. When Hepburn left Coco after some nine months, the producers brought in French actress Danielle Darrieux to replace her. The show only lasted two more months. The reason: it's not very good. The score has its individual charms, but on the whole Coco really doesn't work, at least not without La Hepburn and Michael Bennett's original staging, which apparently was dazzling.

Alan Jay Lerner's book for Coco is jokey when it should be heartfelt, and includes a rather inert subplot about Chanel taking on a young modeling protege, in a relationship that's meant to be maternal but comes off as Sapphic. Plus, the book and songs exhibit just a bit too much of Lerner's condescension towards women. (It's no surprise that he was married 8 times.) "A Woman is How She Loves" is a particularly bizarre and misogynistic anti-fashion screed. (e.g. "But who cares where the hems are if dismal the stems are?")

Other than the show itself, the main attraction at this Coco was cabaret star Andrea Marcovicci in the title role. Marcovicci has played Coco before, as part of a staged concert at 42nd Street Moon in San Francisco in 2008. At first, Marcovicci wasn't faring well with the comedy, but she eventually got a handle on it when she let it flow from character rather than from forced line readings.

Marcovicci was more consistent, and effective, in her dramatic acting. In fact, at times she was immensely moving, particularly during "Gabrielle/Coco" and "Always Mademoiselle." Her singing was surprisingly thin, given her reputation in the cabaret world, but that may have been because most of the score seemed to take place on the break between her head and chest voice. Since there was only piano accompaniment, it makes me wonder why the York didn't have the music transposed for her, or find a pianist who could transpose on sight.

The rest of the cast was serviceable, at times inspired. The clear-voiced Lewis Cleale fared especially well in the role of Coco's absent father, played by Jon Cypher in the original production. David Turner was an admirable model of restraint as the fey Sebastian Baye, at least compared to the embarrassingly over-the-top René Auberjonois, who surprisingly won a Tony Award for originating the role. (Then again, perhaps it's not so surprising: it was a very slow year, and Auberjonois only had two competitors: Brandon Maggart in Applause and the late George Rose, his Coco costar.) In the George Rose role of Coco's long-time attorney and confidante, Charles Kimbrough didn't seem to have a clear handle on humor, which got lost amid some rather bizarre mannerisms, prompting ruminations among my cohorts and me as to whether he might be ailing physically.

Overall, I have to say cheers to the York for their mission of bringing us these forgotten little gems. For the most part, there's a reason they've been forgotten, but it's always a pleasure to experience something neglected from the past. I already have my ticket to the next Mufti show: The Roar of the Greasepaint - The Smell of the Crowd. Watch for my review in the coming weeks.

Review - A Little Night Music With Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch

Dear Catherine Zeta-Jones: The Theater Wing would like its Tony Award back.

Why? Because Bernadette Peters is now proving eight times a week that you didn't deserve it. It's not as though you embarrassed yourself in A Little Night Music. Far from it. Your Desiree was never less than professional, but never more than merely competent. Let's be honest: the only reason you got that award is that the Tony voters wanted to congratulate themselves on being able to attract A-list Hollywood talent to Broadway, and to encourage other stars to make the trek east.

But now, visitors to the Walter Kerr Theater in New York can see how a real star of the stage comports herself in one of the best female roles in the musical theater canon.

To be sure, Bernadette is not without her mannerisms and eccentricities, which are on full display here. Peters seems hell-bent on wringing every possible laugh from Hugh Wheeler's urbane and literate script, whether through exaggerated line readings or shameless mugging, even when she's not the immediate focus of the scene. But the marvel here is that it works, and swimmingly so.

When I saw Zeta-Jones play the role (read my review), there was a definite sense of nervousness about her, despite her striking beauty and killer smile. And that anxiety was contagious. But with Bernadette, I just sat back and enjoyed being in the hands of a seasoned stage performer. It reminded me of seeing Maggie Smith in Lettice and Lovage or Three Tall Women. In both cases, I knew she was hamming up a storm, but I eagerly and ravenously devoured every last scrap of pork.

And when it comes to hearing Bernadette Peters interpret Stephen Sondheim's ravishing score, well, there's just no comparison. Zeta-Jones was on pitch (mostly) throughout the show, but her delivery of "Glamorous Life" was irritatingly labored, compared to Bernadette's joyous playfulness. And "Send in the Clowns" in Peters' hands is a tour de force. Suddenly the mannerisms die away, the defenses are down, and we're left with a masterful performer laying bare a raw and palpable sense of loss and regret. It's nothing less than stunning.

And then there's the formidable Elaine Stritch. With all due respect to the wondrous Angela Lansbury, Stritch has a much firmer grasp on the humor inherent in the role of Madame Armfeldt. Of course, Elaine is showing her age much more than Angela was. Elaine's pacing is extraordinarily slow, giving the impression that accessing every single line and lyric is a chore. The show is about 15 minutes longer than it was with CZJ and Angela, and most of that extra time comes from Stritch's continual grasping and shameless backphrasing, particularly on "Liaisons."

But, again, it works. Stritch is every bit the pro that Bernadette is, and she knows her way with a caustic one-liner. In fact, she can make almost any line into a caustic one-liner, whether the authors intended it or not.

When I first heard that Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch would be taking over for CZJ and Angela Lansbury, I was skeptical. I wasn't sure that either was right for her respective role. But after seeing the show, I can confidently announce that both women suit their parts admirably, bringing a spark of vitality to a production that was sorely lacking in same prior to their accession. These consummate professionals breathe bountiful life into a formerly moribund property. It's an amazing sight to witness.

NOTE: New Federal Trade Commission (FTC) regulations require bloggers to disclose when they accept anything of material value related to their blog posts. I received complimentary press tickets to this performance of A Little Night Music.

Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch in A Little Night Music

As you most likely know, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Angela Lansbury played their final performances in the revival of A Little Night Music this past weekend. You may also know that the show, which was originally scheduled to close upon their departure, will instead take a brief hiatus before Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch take up the parts of Desiree and Madame Armfeldt, respectively, on July 13th.

More on that later, but first I wanted to address some Post-Tony controversy initiated by performer Hunter Foster. As I've said, the Tonys this year were dominated by Broadway congratulating itself for attracting A-list Hollywood stars, and awarded them Tonys, in some people's estimation, simply for showing up. Hunter took it upon himself to start a Facebook group called Give the Tonys Back to Broadway, which at the time of this writing had 7,651 members.

I've admired Hunter's work for years, but I find this effort misguided and naive. The Tonys are about business and marketing. And Hollywood stars are currently seen as the key to box-office success. As long as that ethos remains extant, Tony Awards will continue to go to shows and performers that are most likely to earn the voters money. And nothing will change in that regard until theater critics are restored to the ranks of the Tony voters.

That said, I believe that Catherine Zeta-Jones was undeserving of her Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical. (Read my review of this production.) If you didn't get to see her on stage, all you have to do is listen to the cast recording to witness the problem. She was fine in the book scenes, but during the songs she pushed and emoted to an egregious extent. Check out this clip from "The Glamorous Life." It's rather painful to listen to. It's as though she's trying with every note to justify her presence in the show. This otherwise excellent recording is marred by a leading performance nearly devoid of subtlety, although "Send in the Clowns" is admirably restrained.

But the fact remains that this show would never have made it to Broadway without CZJ. And based on the momentum established by CZJ (and the lovely Ms. Lansbury), we now get a chance to see Bernadette Peters and Elaine Stritch take up the roles. Would the show have made it to Broadway solely based on the draw of Misses Peters and Stritch? It's possible, but I have my doubts. So we very likely have CZJ to thank for providing us with the chance to see two genuine pros of the stage take on the roles. When Peters and Stritch leave, could we possibly see some additional recasting to keep the show afloat? Perhaps the mother/daughter team of Blythe Danner and Gwyneth Paltrow, as previously rumored?

Well, if that does happen, Hunter Foster will no doubt be pleased to know that neither would be eligible for a Tony, since only the cast from opening night of a particular production qualifies. Unless, of course, the Tony commission changes the rules to accommodate replacement casts. And, depending on the wattage of the stars in question, is that notion really that far-fetched?

EIKILFM - Special Diva Edition

This past weekend, I performed with the Boston Gay Men's Chorus, as I do every June as part of Boston's Pride celebrations. Usually, I take part in the dance numbers, and this year was no exception. But I was also approached by the Chorus's artistic director to contribute some material. The focus of the concert was divas, and there was a section devoted to divas of the stage. The idea was that I would be on stage blogging, providing introductions to the various sections of the stage diva segment. Last night, our concert coincided with the Tony Awards telecast, so I added a quick update on the awards that had been announced at that point.

For those of you who couldn't make the concert, here's the stage patter I devised for the segments. I was told to be as bitchy as possible, so this might be slightly more vicious than I would normally be on this blog. Slightly. I've also included the songs that each speech was meant to introduce, as well as commentary as to whether I really believed the bitchery behind the lines or whether I was just going for a laugh or an effect. Enjoy.

Divas of the Stage

Concert patter

[INTRO]: Dear Reader: Welcome to Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals, Special Diva Edition. When I started writing this blog, my intention was to focus on the musicals themselves. Well, little did I know that my readers would take such prurient interest in the private lives of their favorite female stars of the stage. You people are petty and superficial. Fortunately, so am I. So, ask and you shall receive... [This is a fictive construct I devised purely for the concert. My readers are anything but petty, and I rarely traffic in gossip. Here I was solely trying to set up the rest of the set.]

[SONG: "There's No Business Like Show Business," Annie Get Your Gun]

[ETHEL MERMAN]: Rumors have been swirling around for years that Ethel Merman was actually a great big lesbian. But apparently, that was just a rumor started by “novelist” Jacqueline Susann. It seems that Jackie cooked up a story about rebuffing Ethel’s amorous advances. When in fact, quite the opposite was true. Dream on, Jackie. In other news, Ethel was also very close friends with J. Edgar Hoover. Probably because they wore the same dress size. [While reading Ethel's autobiography and a few biographies, I was distressed to discover that my beloved Ethel was a conservative republican, and cavorted with the likes of Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan. But I did have to chuckle to discover she was so tight with Hoover,  who we now know was one of the biggest closet cases in U.S. history.]

[SONG: "Some People," Gypsy]

[PATTI LUPONE]: When Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Sunset Boulevard premiered in London, the show starred the fabulous Patti LuPone. Well, the show ran into some trouble – to say the very least – and Sir Andrew decided to replace La LuPone with Glenn Close. (Because she’s *such* a great singer...) Hey, Andy: Don’t blame Patti because you haven’t written anything decent or successful since 1986. But, as we know, Patti cried all the way to the bank. In fact she fondly recalls the lawsuit settlement every time she’s floating around in her Olympic-sized swimming pool. Only in this pool, there’s no dead writer floating face-down. Yet. [Truth be told, I actually enjoy Sunset Boulevard, but I much prefer the Patti LuPone London recording. If I never hear Glenn Close "sing" again, that would be be just fine with me.] 

[SONG: "With One Look," Sunset Boulevard]

[LIZA MINNELLI]: What do I really need to tell you about Liza Minnelli? Well, at least she’s following in her mother’s footsteps. And we all know where that got her mother. [I adore Judy Garland, and I mean no disrespect here whatsoever. The night of our first performance was Judy's birthday, and I was worried that this line would start a mini riot. There were a few minor gasps, but I emerged unscathed.] 

[SONG: "Maybe This Time," Cabaret]

[BERNADETTE PETERS]: And then there’s Bernadette Peters. A gorgeous, talented woman who didn’t get married until she was almost forty. Hmm... Now, I’m not saying she’s gay. I’m just saying that she’d probably make some lipstick lesbian a wonderful husband. There are those who say that, when she did the 2003 revival of Gypsy, she absolutely triumphed as Mama Rose. And then there are those of us without any mental handicaps. [They made me change this last line for fear of getting complaints from the PC set. The new line read, "And then there's me." Also, I have no reason to believe that Bernadette is gay. I was simply going for a laugh here.]

[SONG: "Time Heals Everything," Mack and Mabel]

[Local Boston diva LEIGH BARRETT]: Of course, in Boston we have our own distinctive divas. One glorious example would be the lovely and talented Ms. Leigh Barrett. Now, I’ve known Leigh for years, and I could certainly tell you some stories. But unfortunately I’m under a gag order from the Massachusetts court system. Suffice it to say that, after a few weeks of recuperation, the goat and the chimpanzee are just fine. And the Boys Scouts of America wound up dropping all the charges. Well, at least we have the chance to enjoy Leigh’s sheer fabulousness on stage. In fact, I hear she’s currently singing with the Boston Gay Men’s Chorus... [Lest anyone get the wrong idea, this section is entirely fictional, except for the fact that I've know Leigh for years. Well, at least it's fictional as far as I know...] 

[SONG: "Losing My Mind," Follies]

The Boston Gay Men's Chorus Presents - DIVAS

I'm just now catching up on my blogging. I've been busy this week getting ready for the annual Pride concert with the Boston Gay Men's Chorus. This year, the theme is "Divas"; those fabulous ladies of the stage, screen, concert hall, and recording studio. We had our first concert last night, and it was a rousing success. But we have two more concerts this weekend, on Friday at 8 PM, and Sunday at 7 PM. If you're in the area, you might want to stop by and check out the proceedings.

If last night's concert is any indication, you're in for a wild ride. The bill of fare includes such iconic ladies as Judy Garland, Whitney Houston, Karen Carpenter, Tina Turner, Cher, Beyonce, and Lady Gaga. There's lots of singing, dancing, special effects, live sheep and real airplane motors. ("It's devastating. Simply devastating...") 

"But," you ask, "what part do you play in all of this, Chris?" Well, thank you for asking. I'm not only part of the corps de ballet, dancing up a storm in such energetic numbers as "Le Jazz Hot" and "Proud Mary," I also make a special appearance as your humble blogger, introducing and providing color commentary during the section of the concert in which we pay tribute to the fabulous divas of the stage, including Ethel Merman, Liza Minnelli, Bernadette Peters, and Patti LuPone. 

So, if you're looking for a fabulous way to celebrate Pride in the Boston area, why not stroll on over to the Cutler Majestic Theater in Boston's theater district. Tickets are $15 to $45, and are available through Telecharge. There are limited seats available for Friday night, but there are plenty of good seats left for Sunday.

Hope to see you there!

Review - Promises, Promises at the Broadway Theatre

I've never been much of a fan of Promises, Promises, a revival of which opened last night at the Broadway Theatre. But I have to say I was intrigued and enticed by what at first seemed like shrewd semi-star casting: Kristin Chenoweth and Sean Hayes in the starring roles. Add in B-list hottie Tony Goldwyn in a significant supporting part, and I was one intrigued little theater blogger, let me tell you. Unfortunately, the Broadway production that I was most eagerly anticipating this spring has become the one I'm mostly likely to forget.

Except, that is, for the marvelous Katie Finneran, a Tony Award winner for Noises Off, and hopefully a repeat winner this year for her hysterical work here as the minor character Marge MacDougall. When Fineran comes on stage at the top of Act 2, suddenly this otherwise earthbound show takes momentary wing. When Finneran disappears shortly thereafter, the show returns to its desultory self.

The frequently marvelous Ms. Chenoweth is here sorely miscast. It really makes you wonder: Did she, or any of her people, actually read the script before they signed her on? Because Fran Kubelik, at least on paper, doesn't really seem to mesh well with Chenoweth's persona. Let's see, an introspective, easily dominated, suicidal schlub? Yeah, that's Kristen, all right.

Hayes comes off somewhat better than Chenoweth, far more natural here than he was as Mr. Applegate in the recent Encores production of Damn Yankees. At the top of the show, Hayes was charming and strong-voiced, but once the plot kicked in he had a tendency to overdo the comedy, pushing harder for laughs, milking the ones that actually came. It was as though he got the (accurate) sense that the show wasn't quite working and felt the need to overcompensate for the lackluster production surrounding him. And in act 2, both Hayes and Chenoweth showed signs of vocal strain.

But it's really not fair to let the stars shoulder the blame here. And it's not that the story isn't strong, based as it is on Billy Wilder's masterful movie, "The Apartment." The characters are sweet and likable, and the libretto features Neil Simon at his jokemaster best. No, the main culprits are the lousy score and flat direction. I've always been a fan of Rob Ashford, mostly for his energetic and frequently humorous choreography. I had heard decent things about his directorial skills, based mostly on his well-received London and Los Angeles productions of Jason Robert Brown's Parade. But I have to say his directorial work here on Promises, Promises is less than impressive. As Terry Johnson so vividly demonstrates with La Cage aux Folles, insightful direction can make even mediocre material come alive. Ashford may indeed have a promising future as a Broadway director, but you'd never know it from watching Promises, Promises.

And then there's the score. Burt Bacharach's music features pretentious, self-conscious, pointlessly complicated changes in time signatures. And Hal David's lyrics are thoroughly unmemorable. After hearing the songs in context here, it's really no wonder to me that the pair haven't worked on Broadway again. Sure, there are a few moderately passable numbers, including "She Likes Basketball," and "I'll Never Fall in Love Again." (Although, on the latter, Ms. Chenoweth performs what is easily the least convincing fake guitar playing I've ever witnessed.)

But the rest of the score falls into three categories: dull, painful, and ridiculous. In the dull category we have the bland and pointless "Wanting Things." In the painful column, there's "Our Little Secret," "Where Can You Take a Girl?," and "You'll Think of Someone," all of them awkward, tuneless, and egregious in their rhythmic eccentricity. As for ridiculous...well, hello..."Turkey Lurkey Time"? Sure, the number was fun when Michael Bennett staged it in the '60s. (See it here on YouTube.) But Ashford's staging can't hold a candle to that of Bennett, and the song itself is a pointless trifle, both in and out of context.

As if the creative staff knew the score couldn't stand on its own, they've interpolated two Bacharach/David hits into the production: "I Say a Little Prayer" and "A House Is Not a Home." In terms of fitting the context of the show, the songs work just fine. But "Prayer" seems like a throwaway number here, and is lifelessly staged. And "House" serves a strong dramatic purpose in its current context, but is, to my ears, rather dull.

Theatergoers in search of an enjoyable, humorous, heartwarming recreation of an admittedly creaky show should definitely check out La Cage aux Folles. As for Promises, Promises? Meh, Meh.

Grade: C+ (Worth seeing for the delightful Katie Finneran. Otherwise, a somewhat joyless and obligatory affair.)

Reviews - Finian's Rainbow and Kate Baldwin CDs

For me, there's no greater pleasure than sitting down to listen to the cast recording of a beloved show. Of course, I'll buy practically anything, irrespective of whether I've seen the show. Years ago, my cousin Joanne asked me why I would buy the cast recording for a production I hadn't seen. I sputtered at first, for lack of comprehension. Why would one need to have seen a show to enjoy a cast recording, I eventually replied. I wasn't alive to see Ethel Merman in Gypsy, but I can still marvel in her clarion call of a voice on what might just be the greatest score of all time.

In deference to my cousin, I will say that cast recordings are that much sweeter when I have seen the production in question. It's one of the reasons why I'm so delighted with the new PS Classics release of Finian's Rainbow. Alas, this production of Finian's Rainbow played its final performance at the St. James Theater in January. I saw the show once at Encores (read my review) and twice on Broadway (read my review and my re-review). My take on the show itself varied, but my reaction to the score was steadfast: it's a gem. Fortunately, the good folks at PS Classics have done their usual bang-up job of preserving classic and quality shows, which now includes this nonpareil score from composer Burton Lane and lyricist Yip Harburg.

Sure, there are more cohesive and integrated scores, particularly those from some of the Rodgers and Hammerstein shows. But I'll be damned if I can think of another score from this or any period that has as many genuinely tuneful, funny, and charming numbers as Finian's Rainbow. There honestly isn't a single bad number in the bunch. Lane and Harburg run the full gamut from sweet lyricism ("Look to the Rainbow") to charm songs ("Something Sort of Grandish") to rousing production numbers ("If This Isn't Love") to wry social comment ("Necessity"). And when you've got the personable and professional likes of Kate Baldwin, Cheyenne Jackson, Jim Norton, Christopher Fitzgerald, and Terri White to sing such a gem of a score, well, all the better.

This recording of Finian's Rainbow captures so much of what made the show charming, particularly Kate Baldwin's stirring soprano voice and Christopher Fitzgerald's impish playfulness. And what a delight it is to hear Terri White's husky voice emanate from my stereo once more. In younger days, I practically wore out my LP of Barnum, particularly White's bravura take on "Thank God I'm Old."

Rediscovering Finian's Rainbow got me to thinking about other shows that feature the worth of Burton and Harburg. Both gentlemen had distinguished careers as songwriters, but neither really hit it all that big on Broadway. Harburg's other shows include the underrated Bloomer Girl, the joyous but forgettable Jamaica, and the utterly bizarre Flahooley. None of these shows was particularly successful financially, and Flahooley was a outright bomb. Lane's most memorable shows, other than Finian's, were On a Clear Day You Can See Forever and Carmelina, both of which have much to recommend them, although as a whole they're rather unfulfilling. 

But as is often the case with talented creators, even their biggest flops contain diamonds in the rough. Which is one of the reasons that Kate Baldwin's new solo CD, Let's See What Happens, is such a delight. As a sort of Finian's tie-in, PS Classics has also recorded and released this compilation of musical delights, mostly from the various shows and movies that Lane and Harburg contributed to over the years. And who better to interpret these songs than the dazzling Ms. Baldwin.

Notable tracks on the CD include "That Something Extra Special," from Darling of The Day, and as definitive as Patricia Routledge is on the show's cast recording, Baldwin more than holds her own. Baldwin also charms on "Here's to Your Illusions" from the aforementioned Flahooley. Again, Baldwin proves a genuine match for another formidable lady, the lovely Barbara Cook, who performed the song on the train-wreck fascinating Flahooley recording. The Baldwin CD also unearths a few little-known (or at least unknown to me) gems, including "I Like the Likes of You" from The Ziegfeld Follies of 1934, and "Have Feet, Will Dance" from the 1957 TV musical "Junior Miss." 

The CD errs on the side of the slow and contemplative ballad, and although I'm usually more of an uptempo guy, Baldwin's clean and rounded delivery make for energizing listening even on the slowest of slow songs. I really hope this woman has a long and successful career ahead of her. She's enchanting both on-stage and in the studio. It's lovely combination.

Review - A Little Night Music Revival

Easily the most anticipated musical of the season thus far has been the Broadway transfer of acclaimed London production of A Little Night Music. My schedule didn't allow me to see the show during previews, as is my normal wont, but I did get down to the Walter Kerr Theater last weekend to take in [sigh] a post-opening performance.

Given that I was seeing A Little Night Music almost a month into its run, it was inevitable that I would have already heard a good deal about the production. For instance, I had witnessed much talk of the scaled-down staging, reflecting the larger trend of treating Stephen Sondheim revivals as "chamber" pieces. This particular aspect of A Little Night Music didn't bother me: these reduced productions have at least one positive effect, which is creating more of a focus on the piece itself.

I had heard a good deal of grumbling about the reduced orchestrations: the current production of Night Music features new charts by Jason Carr for eight musicians, whereas the originals by Jonathan Tunick called for 25. I guess I don't really focus on sound quality and fullness, as long as the playing is professional, which it most certainly was. The music sounded just fine to my admittedly unrefined and inattentive ear.

What did bother me were some of director Trevor Nunn's staging choices, some of which seemed to defy explanation. Most egregious was the dinner scene, in which Nunn has the cast sitting on the floor on pillows. Not only did it seem strange that elegant dinner guests would be lolling around on the floor, but this choice would seem to be a direct contradiction of Madame Armfeldt's line upon the guests' arrival: "We cannot be caught squatting on the ground like Bohemians."

One note of irony in the supposedly "intimate" production design was the scenery by David Farley, which was lumbering, cumbersome, and visually unappealing. And the much-discussed exceedingly dim lighting, designed by Hartley T A Kemp, is indeed exceedingly, annoyingly, unnecessarily dark. Is the production team trying to get us to focus more on the characters? Or hide the hideous set? Whatever, the insufficient illumination here is irritating, and I would imagine even more so for those with aging eyes. And when you add the veritable darkness of the proceedings to the production's deadly slow pacing -- the show clocks in at 3 hours, whereas the original was closer to 2.5 -- the effect is soporific, indeed.

All of which would seem to be beside the point, because very few attendees for this Night Music are there for orchestral richness, atmospheric lighting, or swift pacing. They were there to see Catherine Zeta-Jones, who is perfectly presentable, if uninspired, as Desiree. Her manner during the book scenes was very natural, but during the songs she seemed to be pushing. In her first number, "The Glamorous Life," it seemed as though she was trying to justify her presence on Broadway. Her diction was a bit lacking at times, but her voice is strong and appealing. "Send in the Clowns" had a nice, smoky quality to it, although she did sharp a bit on the final note, when she tried adding a brief crescendo/diminuendo emphasis.

But I couldn't help thinking as I watched the show, "She's the reason we're all here." Because, without Catherine Zeta-Jones, this revival quite simply would never have made it to Broadway. News that she would make her Broadway debut in the show reached as far as China and Pakistan. The production has been playing at or near capacity, with a very healthy average ticket of about $130.00. But when CZJ leaves, the show very likely close, unless they can find another Hollywood A-lister to step in. 

Not that it really matters, but the casting for the rest of the show has its highs and lows. Angela Lansbury is her fabulous self as Madame Armfeldt, although in truth, she's not entirely suited to the role. Try as she might, our beloved Angela is far too likable in a part that should be imperious and cutting. Broadway newcomer Alexander Hanson is terrific as Frederick, conveying just the right sense of world-weariness and faded prowess. Leigh Ann Larkin is far more subtle and effective as Petra than she was (IMHO) as June in Gypsy. Larkin does a bang-up job on "Miller's Son," one of the best I've ever seen, in fact. (I still don't think the song belongs in the show, though: it stops the action dead, asking us to spend four-plus minutes with a minor character just as we want things to wrap up.)

There were, however, some major casting missteps. Ramona Mallory seems to be have been cast solely because she's the daughter of the original Anne, Victoria Mallory. At first, Mallory the younger seemed a welcome -- albeit petulant -- change from the typical ingenue. But she eventually became irritatingly hysterical and whiny. Aaron Lazar seems far too young and not nearly imposing enough as Carl-Magnus. And then there's poor Erin Davie, a wonderfully talented young woman, who is sorely miscast here as Charlotte. Davie is far too soft-edged. Her "Every Day a Little Death," which should be a paean to understated bitterness, becomes a maudlin, melodramatic affair. Davie seems to be acting up a storm, trying to make the part work, but she's simply not right for the part, at least not now, and perhaps not ever.

While I remain glad that A Little Night Music has finally, after 35 years, made it back to Broadway, the production at hand hasn't much to offer to beyond marquee-value names above the title. It's certainly a strong show in its own right, and the current version is never less than serviceable. But for $137.00, is "serviceable" really enough?

Review: The Film Version of Nine

Che delusione. Come molto deprimente. Che disastro.

I saw the movie "Nine" on Monday, and all this week I've had the hardest time bringing myself to write up this review. It was just such a depressing experience.

I've always been an ardent admirer of the musical Nine, with its wise and witty book by Arthur Kopit and sensational score by Maury Yeston. Nine was one of the first shows I ever saw on Broadway, and I was captivated by Tommy Tune's simple yet effective staging. But I also enjoyed the show in revival form, particularly director David Leveaux's fresh visual take and Antonio Banderas's dynamic turn as Guido. And the movie version seemed to have so much going for it, particularly the stellar female cast: Marion Cotillard, Nicole Kidman, Judi Dench, Kate Hudson, Sophia Loren, Penélope Cruz, oh, and somebody named "Fergie."

So what went wrong? Two things: the script and Rob Marshall.

I'm no purist when it comes to movie musicals. Two of the best films of Broadway shows are "Cabaret" and "Sweeney Todd," and neither of those movies is particularly faithful to its source. The "Cabaret" movie is almost completely rewritten. But it works. And "Sweeney Todd" removed a large portion of Stephen Sondheim's score, albeit with his blessing. But the cuts, for the most part, were effective.

So, I'm not dumping on "Nine" for all the rewrites or the excised numbers. The problem is that the screenplay, by Michael Tolkin and Anthony Minghella, is just plain awful, filled with dialog that is at best banal, at worst laughable. Minghella passed away in 2008, so I'm going to have to assume that Tolkin is to blame for the trite phrasing and mindless bromides. After all, Minghella had a far more august resume ("The English Patient," "The Talented Mr. Ripley") than Tolkin does ("Deep Impact," "The Rapture"). But who knows, right? All I know is that virtually nothing remains of Arthur Kopit's original libretto, and what has taken its place is often ridiculous. At one point, poor Penélope Cruz is actually forced to say to Guido, "I'll be waiting for you, with my legs open." Ugh.

But I could have withstood the indignities of the screenplay if the musical numbers weren't so poorly integrated into the film. The songs all take place in some conceptual nowhere land, sometimes interspersed with the scenes at hand, sometimes not. So the music doesn't emerge from the mouths of the characters themselves, but rather from some imaginary versions of same. That's not in itself a problem, but director Rob Marshall hasn't given us a clear idea as to why he's made this choice.

By comparison, in the "Cabaret" movie, the songs take place in a Berlin nightclub. In the "Chicago" movie, the songs for the most part are meant to be Vaudeville numbers. Those conceits create a connection between the songs and the action. But how and where are they taking place in "Nine"? As individual internal monologues? In Guido's head? That doesn't really make dramatic sense: Guido isn't a musical-theater aficionado, he's a film director. He wouldn't think in terms of musical numbers, but rather cinematic sequences. As a result, the songs don't add to the movie, they stop it dead.

For me, "Chicago" didn't really work as a movie, but it did leave open the possibility that Marshall might develop an independent voice. "Nine" calls that possibility into serious question. So far, Marshall appears to be little more than a poor man's Bob Fosse, without the vision or the bite. As I watched "Nine," I kept thinking about the stylistic debt that the movie owed to "All That Jazz," an infinitely superior film, and it made me wonder what Fosse could have done with "Nine." Perhaps all the people who knew how to create effective movie musicals are dead, but is Rob Marshall really the best we can do?

I had thought that I would have a problem with Daniel Day-Lewis as Guido, but, although I would have preferred Javier Bardem, I didn't mind Day-Lewis, not even his thin singing voice. Had the script and direction been better, DDL might have had a chance to be terrific, but as it stands he's merely serviceable. And there are a few individual performances here to savor, particularly Kate Hudson as the American journalist, who gets the best of the the three new songs, "Cinema Italiano." And Fergie really hits it out of the park vocally with "Be Italian," although the staging for the number itself is rather flat.

"Nine" opened to disappointing reviews and meager box office. The movie went into wide release on Christmas Day, hitting 1,400 screens nationally over the holiday weekend, but this week the distributor is cutting the number of screens by about 36%. They're trying to put a positive spin on it, saying, "The movie is performing well on about 890 key screens." Hmm, well how about those other 510 screens, guys? I don't think the movie-musical genre is in any immediate danger: "Mamma Mia," artistic abomination though it might be, did a very respectable $144 million domestic gross.

But is it really to much to ask, or hope, that we finally find someone who can put a decent movie musical together?

Stephen Sondheim at Sanders Theater - Part 1

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of attending A Life in the Theater - An Evening With Stephen Sondheim, which took place at the lovely Sanders Theater in Cambridge, Mass. The event comprised a conversation, of sorts, between Stephen Sondheim, looking rather spry for his 79 years, and Frank Rich, the man formerly known as the "butcher of Broadway" during his stint as chief drama critic for the New York Times. 

In truth, Rich needn't have showed up. His questions were rather on the soft-ball side, and didn't really go much beyond "And then you wrote Follies. What was that like?" Pretty much anyone with even a passing knowledge of musical theater could have performed the same function. Sure, there was a certain added value to his presence, given his now legendary review of Follies for the Harvard Crimson, and other such overlaps, including his presence at the final DC performance of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. But on the whole, the added value to Rich's presence was minimal.

Sondheim talked about a lot of stuff that we've heard before, but it was certainly a delight to hear it from the horse's mouth, as it were. What follows is a show-by-show breakdown of some of the stories and recollections that Sondheim related to a rapt audience of about 1,100 admirers. There was so much great stuff to relate that I'm going to be breaking it up into two separate posts.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
- This was definitely one of the more oft-told tales of the evening, but Sondheim related a few details that I found compelling. Famously, Forum was flopping in DC. The final out-of-town performance had 50 members sparsely scattered throughout a 1,700-seat theater. Jerome Robbins had come in to help doctor the show, and said the opening number, "Love Is in the Air," wasn't working. The song was charming, but Forum isn't. It's a low comedy. Enter "Comedy Tonight."
- Sondheim says that this certainly made sense to him, given what had learned from his apprenticeship with Oscar Hammerstein, who told him that the opening number is the most important part of a musical: it needs to tell the audience what to expect in terms of style and substance. "Comedy Tonight" went into the show in Broadway previews, and the rest, as they say...

Company
- The original closing number to Company was called "Happily Ever After," which was eventually replaced by "Marry Me a Little" and ultimately "Being Alive." It's often said that "Happily" was cut because it was too much of a downer, but Sondheim said it was actually cut because it made the ending too bitter.
- "Side By Side" was originally supposed to be the 11 o'clock number, but Sondheim's agent suggested moving it to the opening of act 2 to give the audience a sort of progress report on Bobby. In its current place, the song really livens up the rest of the act.
- Most of the characters in Company were based on real people in librettist George Furth's life, while the part of Joanne was written specifically for Elaine Stritch. Sondheim was working on a number for her called "Crinoline," which was about memory and living in both the present and the past. (This, of course, would later become the theme for Follies.) Furth said, "No, that's not Elaine." Furth was out drinking very late one night with Stritch, in a bar on 3rd Avenue that was about to close. Stritch persuaded the bartender to keep bar open for her. "Honey," she said, "just give me a bottle of vodka and a floor plan." That's Elaine. 

Follies
- During the show's tryout in Boston, the opening sequence to Follies was somewhat abstract and featured shrill, dissonant music and slowly moving ghosts, and the audience just wasn't getting it. Sondheim spoke of the responsibility that creators have to their audience. "It's OK if they don't like it, but if they don't understand it, that's something you have to fix," he said.
- Sondheim thought the original opening would have been truer to the theme of the piece, but he worked with choreographer/co-director Michael Bennett to devise a new opening. "The audience is your collaborator," he said. "It's not about pandering. You can be subtle or indirect, but you're not allowed to baffle." 

A Little Night Music
- After such an expensive "flop" (his word, meaning Follies), Sondheim and Harold Prince wanted to make something that was a crowd-pleaser. Sondheim joked that he may indeed have a bit of a dark streak, but at the time a friend advised him to use Night Music as a chance to "show off." The friend exhorted him to "make it delightful, just a lighthearted operetta."
- The show was based on the 1955 Ingmar Bergman film, "Smiles of a Summer Night." While Night Music was running, Bergman contacted Sondheim about collaborating on a movie version of Franz Lehár's The Merry Widow. Bergman visited Sondheim the day after Bergman first saw A Little Night Music on Broadway. Sondheim asked him what he thought. Bergman said, "My dear boy, my movie and your musical share a story and nothing else. But we all eat from the same cake." Strangely enough, Bergman related that Victoria Mallory, who played the part of Ann, looked just like the woman Bergman had based the part on. "As for that Hermione Gingold, she does tend to fuck the audience, doesn't she?"
- Speaking of Hermione Gingold, when she auditioned for Night Music, Sondheim and Prince were worried that she might be too campy for the role, but she actually read extremely well. On her way out of the audition room, she told Sondheim and Prince, "I notice the character is 74 years old. So am I." (Later they found out she was actually 75.) Gingold also had noticed that at the end of the show, Madame Armfeldt dies, and the stage direction indicated that she slumps over and her wig falls off. Gingold took off her own wig, revealing that she was completely bald.
- Rich asked Sondheim if he knew whether Ingmar Bergman had seen the film version of A Little Night Music. "It may be what killed him," he said.
- Of course, Elizabeth Taylor played the part of Desiree in the movie version. Sondheim said that, to make her appear to sing on key, they had to cut and paste individual notes from multiple audio takes. And this was before digital editing.
- Taylor shared a trailer with co-star Diana Rigg. One day, Rigg asked Taylor if she knew that day's date. Taylor didn't, but started looking around for a newspaper. She found one, but said, "Oh, never mind. This is yesterday's paper."

COMING SOON: Sondheim's recollections on Sweeney Todd, Into the Woods, and Gypsy, including the revelation that "Rose's Turn" was originally supposed to be...a ballet?

iSondheim with Barbara Cook?

We've been hearing off and on about a new revue of Stephen Sondheim's work with the unbearably precious name iSondheim. The show is being compiled and directed by James Lapine, longtime Sondheim collaborator.

The show was originally supposed to run at Atlanta's Alliance Theater this past April and May, but that production was canceled because of the projected production costs and the weak economy. As the awful title implies, iSondheim was to have included a great deal of technology -- multimedia, video, projections, etc. -- featuring interviews with Sondheim himself, intermingled with live performances of songs from Sondheim's career. But the production requirements apparently made the show untenable for a regional, non-profit run in the middle of a recession. 

More recently, there's been chatter on the Rialto about a New York run for iSondheim, under the auspices of the Roundabout Theater, and starring none other than the glorious Barbara Cook, who would be making her first appearance in a non-concert, non-benefit Broadway show in nearly forty frickin' years. The show would also feature two additional singers, yet to be cast. The wonderful Liz Callaway was supposed to have starred in the Alliance run. Wouldn't it be great to see her treading the boards again? Perhaps with her equally marvelous sister, Ann Hampton Callaway?

However, iSondheim seems to have hit a bit of a snag, according to Michael Riedel's column today in the New York Post. Apparently, Mr. Sondheim himself isn't happy with the revenue percentage that the Roundabout wants from any future touring company of the show. Something tells me Steve is going to get his way; it would seem that the Roundabout needs this show -- financially and artistically -- a lot more than Sondheim needs the Roundabout. The good news is that the iSondheim name, according to Riedel, is very likely to change. He mentions that both Virtual Sondheim and Sondheim on Sondheim have been under consideration as replacement titles, although neither seems to be much an improvement. 

Here's hoping that the differing parties iron out their differences so that we can all get to see both Stephen Sondheim and Barbara Cook back on Broadway where they belong.

Desk Clearing: West Side Spanish, Birdie Dance, Nine Movie, and Ragtime Logo

A number of things have been making me cranky lately. Not sure if it's just my mood, or if these items are genuinely annoying. So, rather than addressing each item separately, I figured I'd just get them all out of the way in one peevish post.

Bye Bye Birdie - The New York Daily News reports that the star of the upcoming Broadway revival of Bye Bye Birdie, Gina Gershon, won't be performing the show's iconic Shriner's Ballet. The article quotes Gershon as saying the dance was cut because it was too "gang rape-y." As other commentators have pointed out, that's never seemed to be a problem before, despite being Tams-Witmark's number-one show for decades. The more likely explanation: Gershon can't handle the dance. If they're so concerned about modern sensibilities, will Gershon be performing the regressive and sexist "An English Teacher"? Will the chorus girls still be fawning and fainting to the salacious sight of Conrad Birdie's gyrating hips? The show is a period piece. If you don't like the period, don't do the piece.
Peeve Factor: 7 out of 10. If you want to see a real pro in action, click here to watch Chita Rivera perform the Shriner's Ballet.

West Side Story - According to the New York Times, the current smash-hit Broadway revival of West Side Story has changed back much of the show's much-touted Spanish to the original English lyrics and text. As you may know, director Arthur Laurents brought in Lin-Manuel Miranda (In the Heights) to translate huge chunks of the show into Spanish. The article quotes Laurents as saying the Spanish was "an experiment." Yeah, a failed experiment. As I've written about in my reviews of the show itself and of the CD, I wasn't a fan of the Spanish text. I found it alienating and thought it robbed two terrific songs ("I Feel Pretty" and "A Boy Like That/I Have a Love") of their humor, pathos, and drama. But I also thought that Miranda's lyrics didn't match the quality of Sondheim's original work.
Peeve Factor: 5 out of 10, mitigated by the fact that they've, for the most part, reverted to the infinitely preferable original words.

"Nine" - The more I hear about Rob Marshall's forthcoming film version of Nine, the less excited I become. First, the delectable Javier Bardem dropped out, replaced by the talented but IMHO considerably less sexy Daniel Day Lewis. Now, according to Playbill, Maury Yeston has provided three new songs for the movie: "Guarda la Luna," "Cinema Italiano," and "Take it All." Which is fine, but to make room, they're cutting at least five of the original songs: "Simple," "Be On Your Own," "Grand Canal," "Nine," "The Bells of St. Sebastian's." Boo and grrr. (For a detailed discussion of the cut and added songs, check out a post by my friend Kevin at Theatre Aficionado at Large.)
Peeve Factor: 9 out of 10. Pun intended. I'm not a knee-jerk purist, but the movie is going to need to be pretty spectacular to make up for the butchering of the score. Of course, the "Sweeney Todd" film involved a tremendous amount of cutting as well, and I raved about that movie in my review. So, the jury's still out, despite my current annoyance.

Ragtime - The press folk for the upcoming Broadway revival of Ragtime have recently been touting the new visual identity for the production. (See left) Apparently, it's the work of some famous Italian illustrator. Whatever, it's washed-out, flat, and unmemorable. Plus, the physical arrangement seems borrowed from the logo to The Secret Garden. Of course, I was also nonplussed by the logos for Hair and A Catered Affair, and impressed by that of Cry-Baby. So there's no necessary connection between the quality of an individual show and that of its marketing materials.
Peeve Factor: 2 out of 10. Like many of you, I'm simply thrilled that Ragtime is getting another chance on Broadway. During its original run, it was overshadowed by The Lion King and hampered by irresponsible -- and now felonious -- producing.

A Little Night Music - With Lansbury and Zeta-Jones?

In his column yesterday, Michael Riedel of the New York Post wrote that the upcoming Broadway transfer of Trevor Nunn's acclaimed London production of A Little Night Music will very likely star Angela Lansbury (Madame Armfeldt) and Catherine Zeta-Jones (Desiree Armfeldt). There hasn't been any official announcement about casting, but the production is tentatively scheduled to begin performances in December at the Walter Kerr Theater.

Rumors have been circulating for weeks about Angela Lansbury's involvement in A Little Night Music, but this is the first I've heard about Catherine Zeta-Jones. I'm not sure what I think of CZJ as Desiree. She certainly has musical-theater experience, but I didn't think she really deserved an Oscar for the movie version of "Chicago." She was fine, but unexceptional.

But, irrespective of whether CZJ can pull off the part, there's the Antonio Banderas factor to consider. It's very unlikely that the recent Broadway revival of Nine would have gotten off the ground if it hadn't been for his presence, and as long as he stayed with the show, it did terrific business. But as soon as he left, business plummeted, despite the presence of replacement Guido John Stamos.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the same dynamic will play out with CZJ in Night Music. There's no question that she'll be a huge box-office draw, but once she leaves, the show will likely close. Unless, of course, they can get some other Hollywood star to take her place. (Rene Zellwegger as Desiree? The mind boggles...) And what are the odds that CZJ is likely to stick around for more than 6 months, a year tops? 

I adore A Little Night Music, and have been longing for a strong Broadway revival of the show, of which this production would be the first. I'm not usually a pie-in-the-sky kind of guy, and I know that the economic realities and vagaries of producing a Broadway show can induce producers to find ways to mitigate their risk. I can certainly understand the producers' wanting to bring in a name, but there's a part of me that wishes they would rely on the strength of the show itself and the quality of the production.

Blithe Spirit Still a Joy

I was invited to attend a press preview of the Public's star-studded production of Twelfth Night in Central Park over the weekend. Alas, Mother Nature conspired otherwise, and the Sunday night performance was canceled due to rain. Never mind that I had planned an overnight to NYC for the express purpose of seeing the show. Harrumph.

But the day was hardly a total...wait for it...washout [CUE: rimshot], as it gave me the chance to meet up with some of my wonderful blogger friends, including Steve at Steve on Broadway, Mondschein at Third Row Mezzanine, and Sarah at Adventures in the Endless Pursuit of Entertainment. I also got to meet two new blogger friends, Vance at Tapeworthy and Byrne at Stage Buzz.

In addition, the trip gave me the chance to meet up with my dear friend Ann, and to take in another performance of Blithe Spirit, which I enjoyed so much when I saw it in April. (Read my review.) It's certainly not the deepest play ever written, but Noel Coward's droll -- if a bit stilted -- dialog is a delight, even upon repeated exposure. The performances seem to have morphed a bit. Rupert Everett appeared to be much more concerned with mugging and getting a laugh than embodying a credible character this time around. The same can be said for Christine Ebersole. But Jayne Atkinson, whom I found overly abrasive the first time, seems to have added a richness and a solidity to her performance that was previously lacking.

Of course, the real reason to see this show is to witness Angela Lansbury's now Tony-winning performance, and I'm happy to say that she remains a delight. Angela has always had this adorable, sparkling quality to her, at least on stage and in musicals. Even when she's playing Mama Rose or Mrs. Lovett, two rather despicable characters, Angela somehow makes you fall in love with her. There were a few more fumbled lines this time around, but somehow for me it added to the delicious dotty nature of her portrayal of Madame Arcati.

Blithe Spirit plays at the Shubert Theater in New York until July 19th. If you haven't seen it (or even if you have, right, SarahB?), I recommend it highly. It's not the tightest production, and again there are some ham-bone tendencies on the part of some of the performers to contend with. But how many times are you going to get to see the wonderful Angela Lansbury again? I mean, she's 83 years old. What are you waiting for?

A Little Night Music in London, New York, and Paris

It's a bit surprising, if not downright shameful, that so far there hasn't been a single Broadway revival of the Stephen Sondheim/Hugh Wheeler masterwork A Little Night Music. It's not only one of Sondheim's few shows to make a profit during its initial Broadway run, it's also pretty darned near perfect. (Although I venerate "The Miller's Son" as a song, it doesn't belong in the show. It stops the action cold, just as we want things to wrap up, and it's 4-plus minutes with a deservedly minor character.)

We've been hearing for years about proposed New York revivals of A Little Night Music, but they've had a nasty habit of falling through. A few years back, Glenn Close was supposed to make her return to the Broadway musical stage in the role of Desiree. That production never materialized.

More recently, the Roundabout Theatre staged a successful one-night-only benefit concert version of A Little Night Music, which starred Natasha Richardson and her mother, Vanessa Redgrave. There was talk of the Roundabout bringing the show back as part of its regular season, but Richardson's tragic death unfortunately prevented that from happening.

Now it looks as though the current London production, helmed by Trevor Nunn, is making a bid for Broadway later this year. A Little Night Music opened at London's Garrick Theatre in December 2008, after a sold-out run at the Menier Chocolate Factory. A recent casting notice states that rehearsals for the Broadway production are tentatively scheduled to begin in October toward a December opening at a theater TBD. We'll see as to whether that production comes to pass. 

As if that weren't enough, Playbill.com recently reported that Kristin Scott Thomas (who was robbed...Robbed!...of a Tony nomination for her sparkling turn as Madame Arkadina last fall in The Seagull) will play Desiree in Paris an English-language production in 2010. Before you ask, "Can she sing?," I would remind you that the role was written to cater to the vocal limitations of Glynis Johns, who originated the role in the 1973 Broadway production. It's the kind of part that requires an actress first, a singer second. Dame Judi Dench played Desiree in London in 1995, and anyone who's heard that long out-of-print and highly collectible cast recording can vouch for the fact that she's no Maria Callas. 

I'm certainly hoping to see the New York revival actually happen. If it doesn't, I may just have to fly over to London or Paris. Or both.

Reviews: God of Carnage, Mary Stuart, and Waiting for Godot

It's been the rare theater weekend for me in which more than one show really stood out as high quality theater. Which made my most recent trip to New York, over Memorial Day weekend, all the more exhilarating. Overall I saw five shows: God of Carnage, Mary Stuart, Waiting for Godot, Rock of Ages, and Hair. And no fewer than three of these shows were simply outstanding, although the other two were thoroughly enjoyable in their own ways. Which shows fall into which categories? Ah, patience, dear reader. Below I present my capsule reviews of the straight plays. Look for my reviews of the two musicals in the days to come.

God of Carnage - In short, everything you've heard is true. Yasmina Reza's latest work to hit Broadway is one hell of a ride. For me, the play and its stellar cast more than live up to the hype. Marcia Gay Harden seems to be the odds-on favorite for the best actress Tony this year, and not without reason. Harden is a powerhouse on stage, chewing the scenery to be sure, but all in service of portraying a character whose seams are bursting before our eyes. Slightly less showy but no less effective is the wonderful Hope Davis who manages to render credible her character's numerous contradictions. James Gandolfini is superb as the brutish lout who's forced to make nice at first, only to drop all remnants of the facade over time. And Jeff Daniels is a revelation as the insensitive lawyer who, like the witch in Into the Woods, winds up being the only truly honest person in the piece. It would be a shame if director Matthew Warchus ends up splitting his own vote with his dual Tony nominations for this show and The Norman Conquests. With his work this season, as well as on last year's Boeing-Boeing, Warchus has shown himself a master of multiple genres.

Mary Stuart - Janet McTeer is my new religion. When I saw McTeer in A Doll's House in 1997 I was thunderstruck. Never before had I seen a performance of such depth and nuance. Thankfully, McTeer remains in top form with Mary Stuart, and what's more she's matched in passion and power by her formidable co-star, Harriet Walter. If I were handing out awards, I would give a Tony to both of these women for the sheer fire and dimension they bring to the roles of Mary, Queen of Scots and Elizabeth I. I went in expecting great performances, but I figured the play would be this creaky history lesson. Quite the contrary. Adaptor Peter Oswald grafts vibrant flesh onto Friedrich Schiller's centuries-old skeleton of a play. And director Phyllida Lloyd redeems herself quite nicely after the abominable film version of "Mamma Mia." Rush, my friends, to the Broadhurst Theater to experience one of the most thrilling productions, and two of the most radiant performances, in many a moon.

Waiting for Godot - I received a call last week from the Roundabout Theater, asking whether I would be renewing my subscription. I would not, I replied, particularly in light of the Roundabout's miserable 2008-2009 season. "Yeah, we dropped the ball a few times," said the guy on the phone. Um, you never had the ball. Pal Joey was atrocious. Hedda Gabler was laughable. The Philanthropist is an embarassment. "Ah, but you haven't seen Godot yet, have you?," he replied. At that point I hadn't, but I did see it over the weekend, and it was really quite good, if not outstanding. Sure, Nathan Lane was extemely Nathan Lane-y, but it actually works for Estragon, and served to bring out the inherent humor in Beckett's work. Bill Irwin as Vladimir served as a perfect foil for Lane, offering up introspection and restraint to balance Lane's shtick. Director Anthony Page (who also directed Janet McTeer in A Doll's House) brings plenty of levels and a strong sense of pathos to the play, evincing both the vaudevillian and the existential, sometimes within seconds of each other. Tony winner John Glover has been rightly praised, and nominated, in the role of Lucky, immersing himself entirely in what could easily be a castoff role. John Goodman's Pozzo seemed to be stylistically in a different show, and it wasn't clear that he really understood the role, or whom he was meant to be. But, on the whole, this production helps to partially redeem what has indeed been a troubled year for the Roundabout.

9 to 5 - What a Way to Make a Musical

Say what you want about the whole movies-into-musicals madness, sometimes it actually works. Well, perhaps not always perfectly. Such shows as Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, The Wedding Singer, and Legally Blonde may not be masterpieces, but they do represent reasonably entertaining nights in the theater, albeit in descending order of quality.

Well, we can now add 9 to 5 to that list, upon which it ranks just below Legally Blonde. The score, by one Dolly Parton, comprises a lackluster series of songs with unmemorable tunes and egregious use of slant rhyme. The only song with any staying power, other than the title song, is Stephanie J. Block's eleven-o-clock anthem, "Get Out and Stay Out," although I have a feeling this song will not hold up to repeated listening.

The book -- by Patricia Resnick, who wrote the original "Nine to Five" movie upon which the musical is based -- is reasonably entertaining, although it definitely reflects the work of someone who hasn't written musical theater before. Someone schooled in the form would know enough not to write scenes that require such immediate costume and scenery changes, necessitating pointless crossovers, superfluous dance, and meaningless reprises to fill the interstitial stage time.

Let's forget for the moment that the show involves three women who kidnap another human being and tie him up in his own home. Even if you accept that ridiculous premise, the show doesn't even capitalize on the farcical potential therein. It's a shame, because in the right hands the property itself would have made a great musical. The famous movie scene with the marijuana-induced revenge fantasies represented a tailor-made series of musical numbers in the making, but Parton and Resnick have squandered the inherent comedic possibilities with bland, unfocused songs and bits that never reach their comic potential. However, the scene leading up to this time-wasting series of songs is absolutely hysterical, thanks to the prodigious talents of the three central women.

The delightful Allison Janney is a musical-comedy revelation, demonstrating crackerjack timing and a natural presence that completely overshadow her admitted vocal limitations. More than holding their own in Janney's wake are Stephanie J. Block, who has a history of working overtime to make bad material palatable (cf. The Pirate Queen), and Megan Hilty, who does a terrific Dolly Parton impersonation. I don't necessarily mean that as a diss: Hilty is an absolute pleasure to watch, although her actual performance is about as original as Rachel York's Leslie Anne Warren impersonation in Victor/Victoria. In both cases, we have very talented women falling victim to creators who didn't trust them enough to forge unique characterizations.

Other than the middling score and atavistic book, the main culprit here is director Joe Mantello, who is now officially the most overrated director on Broadway. Mantello's lame attempts at bolstering the weak book with vulgar shtick and empty stage business fall utterly flat. It's beginning to look as though Mantello shot his wad with Wicked; he's going to have to come up with something great pretty soon to win back his reputation as Broadway's go-to guy.

Another major liability on the production staff is choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler, whose work here is laughably inappropriate. Blankenbuehler's dynamic pop-and-lock style worked perfectly for the sanitized street urchins of In the Heights, but it's woefully out of place here, executed by dowdy secretaries and doughy men in three-piece suits. Yeah, the '70s were funky, but it wasn't the pasty white people who were getting down, as it were.

I've heard from numerous friends and students about how much fun they had at this show. There's certainly a lot of energy onstage, and the cast is more than worth the price of admission. (Provided you get a discount ticket, which apparently many people have been doing.) But as regards quality musical theater, 9 to 5 doesn't quite add up.

Blithe Spirit an Unqualified Delight

With so many star-studded revivals on Broadway this season, it's sort of hard to keep up with all the names above the titles. But the one I was looking forward to the most was Blithe Spirit, and fortunately the production did not disappoint. In fact, I'm hoping to see it again at my earliest opportunity.

Blithe Spirit the play is quintessential Noel Coward: dry as a good martini, and oh so terribly droll. The play was made into a so-so musical called High Spirits in the early '60s. The score, by Hugh Martin and Timothy Gray, has a few memorable songs, including "You'd Better Love Me" and "Faster Than Sound," but on the whole it's a pretty middling affair, despite Coward himself at the helm as director.

The casting for the current production of the non-musical version is letter-perfect. Madame Arcati is a role Angela Lansbury was born to play, and play it she does with a spirited playfulness, and spot-on comedic timing. And Rupert Everett makes for a charming, frazzled, and impish Charles Condomine. Rupert has a very natural presence on stage, but also a WASP-ish sexiness, sort of like a latter day Cary Grant. [Insert gay joke here.]

Christine Ebersole has the requisite ethereal quality, as well as the pouty petulance, that the role of Elvira calls for. I heard someone remark that she doesn't even try to do an English accent, but I didn't really have a problem with that. I mean, Charles certainly could have married an American as his first wife. Jayne Atkinson as Charles's second wife took a bit of getting used to. At first, I couldn't really see what Charles would see in this woman, but then when we meet up with Elvira, it becomes clear that he was looking for someone less flighty, more dependable. Atkinson was a bit shrill during the fight scenes, but that's really more a function of the writing and the direction. The Ruth character exhibits a sort of George Bailey quality: despite mounting evidence of the supernatural, she remains obdurate and obtuse. 

Director Michael Blakemore keeps the whole business moving at an engaging pace, and gives his actors just enough business to keep the action in motion. And some of his staging choices are downright inspired.

In related news, Christine Ebersole will record a companion CD to the show featuring the Noel Coward songs that she sings during the scene transitions. The CD will include such Coward classics as "I'll See You Again," "Someday I'll Find You," and "You Were There." Interestingly, the CD will not include "Always," an Irving Berlin song that plays a prominent role in the plot of the show. Apparently they want to focus the recording exclusively on Noel Coward. An understandable choice, but I would love to have a recording of Christine singing that gorgeous Berlin song.