Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals

Bloomer Girl - A Staged Reading

I hated history in high school. At the time, I thought this was simply because the subject didn't interest me, but I eventually came to understand that it was because my history teachers were somewhat perfunctory and uninspired in the way they presented the subject matter.

In college, I was "forced" to take a full year of world history, and wound up being rather pleasantly surprised by this rather delightful professor who related everything in the course to the art and music of the time periods in question. Want to know what Louis XIV was thinking? Take a look at some baroque architecture or listen to some Bach, he said. Interested in what the mindset was after the French Revolution? Check out a Delacroix painting or The Red and the Black.

As a result of that experience, I firmly believe in teaching history, and musical-theater history in particular, not merely as a series of dates and events, but in terms of the progression of ideas and the cultural, social, and political influences on those ideas. One of the most important themes in my musical-theater history course at the Boston Conservatory is the evolution in the portrayal of certain societal subgroups: African Americans, women, and members of the LGBT community. In researching the course syllabus, I was really struck by how many of the shows that I was hoping to cover reflected the changing attitudes toward -- and treatment of -- women, blacks, and gays, and how the shows presented in their way a sort of cultural history of each of those groups.

I was particularly struck when I came across Bloomer Girl, a show that I honestly hadn't really been familiar with prior to researching this course. But as soon as I started reading about the show, I knew I wanted to include it in the course. Bloomer Girl concerns itself with Amelia Bloomer, the inventor, naturally enough, of "bloomers," and her efforts to bring about women's suffrage in particular and women's rights in general. But the show also takes on the parallel struggle to abolish slavery and the workings of the Underground Railroad. Here was a show that addressed, dead on, two of the key themes that were emerging for my course, so two years ago when I initiated the series of staged readings that supplement my course, I knew that Bloomer Girl would be on my short list of shows that I wanted to present. But Bloomer Girl is more than just a history lesson: it's also a delightfully witty and tuneful reminder of musicals from a bygone era.

Given the personnel behind Bloomer Girl, it's really no surprise that the show would have such a strong social conscience. The show features a score by the glorious Harold Arlen, whom many people simply know as the composer of the glorious songs to the 1939 film, "The Wizard of Oz." But Arlen also created the scores to about a dozen Broadway shows, including quite a few shows with all-or-mostly-black casts, including St. Louis Woman, House of Flowers, and Jamaica. E.Y. "Yip" Harburg, Arlen's lyricist for Bloomer Girl, not to mention "The Wizard of Oz," had a similar history of contributing shows with inclusive content, including lyrics for the lighthearted sardonic revue Life Begins at 8:40 (which he also wrote with Arlen), book and lyrics for the scathingly funny social satire Finian's Rainbow (with Bloomer Girl librettist Fred Saidy), and book and lyrics to the outrageously bizarre but fascinating send-up of big business, Flahooley (also with Fred Saidy).

The original cast of Bloomer Girl (1944) featured Celeste Holm in the lead female role of Evalina. Holm was fresh off her star-making role as Ado Annie in Oklahoma, and Joan McCracken (the future ex-Mrs. Bob Fosse), who practically stole Bloomer Girl out from under Holm as the maid Daisy, was fresh out of Oklahoma as well. Also making the trip from Oklahoma to Cicero Falls, New York, was choreographer Agnes de Mille. The reviews and historical accounts of Bloomer Girl point to de Mille's choreography, in particular her legendary Civil War ballet, as being one of many highlights from the show, which ran an impressive 657 performances, or about 18 months.

Because we have only 4 days of rehearsal for these staged readings, my cast will, alas, not be performing the ballet, or any of the de Mille dances for that matter, but if you click on the link above, you can watch a video of the ballet, which comes from a 1956 television broadcast of Bloomer Girl, starring Barbara Cook and Keith Andes. Bloomer Girl has since all but vanished from view, save for a 2001 concert production by Encores, but the somewhat truncated cast recording serves to remind us of Arlen's eclectic score, Harburg's witty and evocative lyrics, and the dynamic performances of Holm, McCracken, and their able supporting cast.

(An interesting footnote: Bloomer Girl features a dramatically purposeful and symbolic performance of Uncle Tom's Cabin during the second act of the show. This was some six years before the Jerome Robbins ballet, "Small House of Uncle Thomas" in The King and I. As I always say to my students, there's really no such thing as an original idea. What matters is the quality of the execution.) 

Bloomer Girl performances at the Boston Conservatory are December 7th and December 8th at 8 pm in the Zack Box Theater. Admission is free. Seating is on a first come-first served basis. Email me for more details.

Bestest Musical Ever - Fall 2011

So it's back to school for me and for my students. This semester promises to be even more zany-kooky-crazy than ever, and I couldn't be happier.

Of course, one of the things I look forward to each semester is the opportunity to utilize my new musical-theater history students to help me create more lists. As you may have noted from my recent posts, I'm kind of a nut about lists.

One of the first things I do each semester in my musical-theater history course is ask my charges to write down the three best musicals ever. The criteria: theirs. Then we use the compiled list as an opportunity to start a conversation about what makes great musicals great.

Here's a list of the shows that received multiple votes:

West Side Story 14
Sweeney Todd 12
Les Miserables 8
Gypsy 8
Into the Woods 6
Wicked 6
Company 5
A Chorus Line 4
Ragtime 4
Funny Girl 3
Next to Normal 3
The Sound of Music 3
Carousel 2
Hair 2
The Music Man 2
Oklahoma 3
Parade 2
The Phantom of the Opera 2
South Pacific 2
Sunday in the Park With George 2

And here are the shows that received one vote each:

Anything Goes, Big River, The Book of Mormon, Cabaret, Candide, Caroline or Change, Cats, Damn Yankees, Fiddler on the Roof, Glory Days, Grey Gardens, Guys and Dolls, Jesus Christ Superstar, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Hello Dolly, La Cage aux Folles, The Last Five Years, The Light in the Piazza, A Little Night Music, Memphis, The Pirates of Penzance, Rent, Show Boat, Singin' in the Rain, The Spitfire Grille, Songs for a New World, Spring Awakening, Starting Here Starting Now, [title of show]

The shows that I've placed in bold text are the outliers, the ones that I find interesting either because they're ranked higher or lower than usual, or because they're making their first appearance on the list. (Click here to see a sampling of lists from previous semesters.)

Funny Girl has never ranked as high as this. In fact, it usually only shows up once, if at all. The show is rarely done regionally or in high schools, so the students would likely only have been exposed to the show thus far through its marvelous movie version with what's her name. I think we can reasonably attribute the show's position on this semester's list to the upcoming revival of the show, and the attendant publicity on the casting of Lauren Ambrose and Bobby Cannavale in the leads.

I can't recall Next to Normal ranking this high before. I get the feeling that this is the last gasp for the show on this list, given that the show has closed on Broadway and the tour has wound down. Then again, the show is starting to catch on regionally, so it's possible that the show will continue to stay in the public's mind, and therefore on this list in the future.

The Book of Mormon makes its first appearance on the list, which is understandable, because it only opened last spring. I think we can attribute the fact that it didn't get multiple votes to two things: the show is sold out through the new year, and the tickets are pretty darned pricey. We're talking poor students here, after all.

It's a bit of a surprise that Rent only got one vote, as it's usually quite the sentimental favorite among my students. Plus, the show just re-opened Off Broadway, giving a new generation a chance to catch a professional version of the show. (Read my review.) Also, the show is pretty popular now among regional theaters, but that make in fact have worked against the show. Although powerful, Rent is chockablock with flaws and inconsistencies. It's possible that repeated exposure to the show has lessened its luster in the eyes of my students.

Then there are the one-offs, shows that rarely appear on the list, and probably only make an appearance when some regional theater decides to do it, and the students get a chance to appear in or see a relatively obscure show. I think this explains the presence of The Spitfire Grill, Starting Here Starting Now, and Songs for a New World. The last of these is very popular with students looking for songs to add to their rep books, so it's possible that the person who voted for Songs has never actually seen it, but only listened to the recording.

And then there's Glory Days, the one genuine WTF on this year's list. The show is a bit legendary among Broadway types, as it's the only one-performance Broadway flop in recent memory. I was scheduled to see the show the weekend after it opened (and closed), so it was the one show that season that I didn't get a chance to see. But my fellow bloggers tell me it was embarrassingly bad, and the cast recording, while revealing a certain naive charm, nonethless exhibits very little genuine craft. The subject matter - four high school buddies get together one year after graduation and discover they've grown apart - is certainly appealing to those of the incoming-freshmen mindset, but rather ridiculous to those of us of a certain age, who understand that one year out of school is hardly a prime vantage point for gaining wisdom or perspective.

Oh, well. At least no one voted for Jekyll & Hyde.

Review - Show Boat at the Goodspeed Opera House

How can a show be a masterpiece if it has no official version? That's the question I always pose to my students when we cover Show Boat. There's no question that the show is historically significant. With Show Boat, librettist and lyricist Oscar Hammerstein II, along with composer Jerome Kern, introduced credible drama, three-dimensional characters, ambitious musical sequences, dramatically purposeful dance, and a host of other innovations to the musical stage.

But Show Boat has changed significantly since its 1927 premiere, with every subsequent stage version and movie treatment. Songs and scenes have come and gone. Depending on the version you happen to catch, the entire second act might look completely different from that of any previous production you may have seen. 

And the tinkering continues to this day with the current production at the Goodspeed Opera House, which opened this past Wednesday. The good folks at the Goodspeed set for themselves two primary challenges with this production: to find a way to make this sweeping pageant of a show work in the diminutive Opera House space, and to streamline the show to make the whole event clock in at around two and a half hours. I'm very happy to report that the Goodspeed production succeeds splendidly in its first goal, but as for hitting the mark on the second, well, the production is certainly swift and efficient, but at the expense of the human drama that's crucial to the overall effectiveness of the piece.

It's difficult to imagine that the Goodspeed has never done Show Boat before. The setting is perfect: the theater is perched on a scenic riverfront, and the building itself is a charming slice of Americana. Take a look at the photo to the right: doesn't it just look like the boat pictured above might pull up at the dock at any moment? Also, the Goodspeed auditorium looks as though it could be the actual hall from the titular show boat.

And this last point becomes one of the key elements in making Show Boat work in this compact house. The scenic design by Michael Schweikardt is both attractive and ingenious. In addition to designing a stunning set piece for the actual on-stage boat -- which places the audience on the ship rather than staring at the side of the boat, as many productions do -- Schweikardt takes full advantage of the Goodspeed auditorium, with its brass railings and horseshoe-shaped balcony, to create the illusion that the audience is actually in the hall of the show boat itself. It's simple but ingenious. I never got the sense that the show needed a bigger playing space. Not once. That's effective design. Director Rob Ruggiero shrewdly places performers throughout the hall throughout the show, and has cast members make many of their entrances and exits through the house to emphasize the atmospheric design of the show.

But whereas the design and direction make an asset out of the performance space, this script and score for this particular version of the show were somewhat less successful. The production staff have made what the press materials call "adjustments, edits, and changes," with the full knowledge and approval of the Rodgers and Hammerstein Organization. The result is streamlined and brisk, but emotionally a bit cold. Part of this might be the breakneck pacing. Even the song tempos seem accelerated, particularly in "Make Believe" and "Why Do I Love You?" I got the impression that Ruggiero was at the back of the house with a stopwatch, watching every song and scene with an eye toward efficiency.

But the real problem seemed to be that the staff have removed too much material that develops the central relationship, between Magnolia Hawks and Gaylord Ravenal. The role of Gaylord seems particularly pared down. As a result, the show hits all the important plot points, but doesn't give us time to stop and care about these people. Casting may be partly to blame here. Ben Davis as Ravenal has a terrific voice, but he doesn't have the physical countenance to give the role the larger-than-life quality it needs. Davis was never less than professional, but he wasn't dashing or charming, or full of the kind of dangerous appeal that Gaylord really needs to have to make the audience believe that Magnolia would fall for him at first sight. As Magnolia, Sarah Uriarte Berry started off a bit overly childish, but developed greater balance as the show progressed. She fared far better in act two, the events of which seem more suitable to a performer of Berry's experience.

[SPOILER ALERT: I reveal the final tag of the show in the last paragraph]

The rest of the cast was almost universally strong. Lenny Wolpe was flat-out adorable as Captain Andy Hawks, with a delightful sense of mischief and playfulness that made him the heart and soul of the show. Karen Murphy made for one of the most imposing, but ultimately charming, Parthys I've ever seen. David Aron Damane as Joe gave a positively stirring rendition of "Old Man River." The only significant hole in the supporting cast was Lesli Margherita as Julie, whose "Can't Help Loving That Man" was marred by histrionic, Elphaba-esque vocal affectations. And her "Bill" was somewhat bizarre. I'm not sure what she was going for here, but she came off a bit more wild-eyed than the role would seem to demand. (A special shout-out to three of my favorite students, making their professional acting debut in this production: Elizabeth Ann Berg, Robert Lance Mooney, and Adam Fenton Goddu. Remember, guys and dolls: Show...Boat = Two...Words. Embrace the space!)

One change that the production staff made to the show that worked extremely well here came at the very end of the show. Depending on the version of Show Boat you may have seen previously, the show probably ended with Magnolia and Ravenal seeing each other for the first time in 20 years. Often, the final tag of the show has Magnolia and Ravenal fondly watching their now-adult daughter Kim from afar as the music swells and the curtain falls. But here, Ravenal approaches Kim, who recognizes her father, and rushes to his embrace. For me, it was the most emotionally stirring moment in a show that ideally would have provided a whole lot more.

The 100 Funniest Musicals Ever

Yesterday on Twitter, there was a lot of talk about a recent list that EW.com posted of the 13 Funniest Broadway Musicals Ever. (Although upon closer inspection the list was actually published in June. Whatever.)

Click through the link above for a slide show of the musicals that made EW's list, but here's a less labor-intensive breakdown of the winners:

1. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
2. The Book of Mormon
3. Avenue Q
4. The Producers
5. Spamalot
6. The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
7. Little Shop of Horrors
8. The Drowsy Chaperone
9. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels
10. Kiss Me Kate
11. How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying
12. Hairspray
13. Urinetown

Well, lists are always suspect, specious, artificial and subject to vociferous debate. But they're also a helluva lot of fun to compile and to contemplate. So, let's start with EW's choices. Whadya think, reader? A little too heavily focused on recent shows, perhaps? Not enough historical perspective? Inevitably, one of your favorites will be missing from the list, or perhaps listed lower than you might like. My first thought was about some glaring omissions. I mean, Guys and Dolls? How could any supposedly compehensive list of the funniest shows be complete without Guys and Dolls? 

But even beyond that clearly unpardonable lapse, the more I thought about it, the more some other genuinely funny shows, both recent (Xanadu, Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson) and not-so-recent (Little Me, They're Playing Our Song, City of Angels), kept coming to mind. 

So, I ask you dear, reader, what was I to do except set about compiling a list of my own? I have a little experience with lists, having previously compiled my own rankings of The 100 Best Musicals of All Time, The 100 Next-Best Musicals, The Most Overrated Musicals, The Most Underrated Musicals, and The Musicals That Suck, among others. (See left sidebar for a full list of lists.) I've gotten a lot of hate mail about all of the above, and I expect to get more about the list below. Feel free to carp, snipe, bemoan, and otherwise make your opinions known. And feel free to compile a list of your own and send it along.

Keep in mind, though, that I've ranked these particular shows not in terms of their overall quality but rather in terms of their humor content. Often, the two go hand in hand, but some of the shows here listed aren't primarily known as comedies, although they may contain a considerable amount of humor. That explains why certain magnificent shows (e.g. My Fair Lady, The Fantasticks) might not be ranked as high as some other shows that are not quite as good but are considerably more funny.

Anyway, let the kvetching begin.

1. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
2. The Book of Mormon
3. Avenue Q
4. Guys and Dolls
5. The Drowsy Chaperone
6. How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying
7. Little Shop of Horrors
8. Urinetown
9. Little Me
10. Xanadu
11. The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
12. Bat Boy
13. City of Angels
14. The Producers
15. Hairspray
16. [title of show]
17. Spamalot
18. They're Playing Our Song
19. Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson
20. The Full Monty
21. A Day in Hollywood/A Night in the Ukraine
22. Hello, Dolly!
23. Anything Goes
24. Chicago
25. The Music Man
26. Kiss Me Kate
27. The Great American Trailer Park Musical
28. A Chorus Line
29. Damn Yankees
30. Fiddler on the Roof 
31. Into the Woods
32. Falsettos
33. La Cage aux Folles
34. The Pajama Game
35. Sweet Charity
36. Wonderful Town
37. Finian's Rainbow
38. My Fair Lady
39. Altar Boyz
40. The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
41. As Thousands Cheer
42. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels
43. Grease
44. On the Town
45. 1776
46. Of Thee I Sing
47. Li'L Abner
48. Me and My Girl
49. My Favorite Year
50. No, No, Nanette
51. On the 20th Century
52. Once Upon a Mattress
53. When Pigs Fly
54. Annie Get Your Gun
55. Promises Promises
56. Strike Up the Band
57. The Boys From Syracuse
58. The Pirates of Penzance
59. The Rocky Horror Show
60. 42nd Street
61. Annie
62. Gutenberg - the Musical
63. High Button Shoes
64. A Connecticut Yankee
65. The Boyfriend
66. Pippin
67. Where's Charley?
68. Pins and Needles
69. Mame
70. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
71. She Loves Me
72. Victor/Victoria
73. A Little Night Music
74. The Mikado
75. The Wedding Singer
76. Legally Blonde
77. The Wiz
78. Candide
79. The Sound of Music
80. Bye Bye Birdie
81. Rock of Ages
82. Reefer Madness
83. Little Mary Sunshine
84. The Marvelous Wonderettes
85. Dames at Sea
86. The Toxic Avenger Musical
    
87. The Fantasticks
88. Ernest in Love
89. Nunsense
90. Olympus on My Mind
91. What's That Smell: The Music of Jacob Sterling
    
92. The Musical of Musicals - The Musical
93. Forever Plaid
94. Lucky Stiff
95. The Kid
96. Hedwig and the Angry Inch
97. Xanna, Don't 
98. You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown
99. Whoop De Doo
100. Evil Dead - The Musical

Honorable Mention: Forbidden Broadway - Why haven't I listed it above? Because it has so many different versions. Which one was the funniest? That's another post entirely. 

Review - Pins and Needles at The Foundry Theatre

Every once in a while, I see a production that reminds me of what theater can really be. I'm not talking about commercial theater. I'm talking about theater in its purest form, which, at least for me, is about connecting with people and their stories and about communicating important and challenging ideas.

But this past Saturday, I had the great pleasure of attending a show that accomplished both, putting forth a slate of real and courageous people and presenting a series of ideas that, while not new, are just as important now as they were when the show in question was first produced.

That show is Pins and Needles, a topical revue that first appeared in 1937, and which at one time was the longest-running show on Broadway (at 1,108 performances), until Oklahoma! came along and nearly doubled the record. This left-leaning satirical show featured music and lyrics by Harold Rome, and sketch material by Rome, Marc Blitzstein, John Latouche, and others. One remarkable thing about the show was that it was performed by theatrical amateurs, a rotating series of members of the International Ladies Garment Workers Union. These days, the show is primarily remembered for its 25th anniversary cast recording featuring the vocal stylings of a young Barbra Streisand.

Otherwise, Pins and Needles has virtually disappeared from the theatrical landscape, apart from a few scattered productions by Off-Off-Broadway companies. I include Pins and Needles in my unit about the rise of the satirical musical show in the 1930s, but until now I've never had a chance to see it live. So, when I read a Playbill article about an upcoming production, I immediately bought a ticket. The article mentioned that the show would be performed at The Foundry, a theatrical collective in Brooklyn, and by an African-American group called FUREE (Families United for Racial and Economic Equality). The article also said that this production would comprise original material from the 1937 production, with additional material by Pulitzer-Prize winner Lynn Nottage, among others. Frankly, they had me at Pins and Needles, but the rest of the details only served to fuel my interest.

When the show started, I immediately sensed that something was amiss. The performers were...how can I put this...not polished. In fact, they were clearly rank amateurs. The production values were actually quite strong: the lighting, costumes, setting, and musicians were all thoroughly professional. But the cast was clearly not. The acting was a bit stiff, the diction was fuzzy, and some of the cast members could, frankly, barely hold a tune. At first I was confused, but then something funny started to happen. I got caught up in the raw but joyful enthusiasm of these wonderfully real people. I reminded myself that the original piece was performed by amateurs, and I found myself wondering whether the original cast was as endearing as these passionate people who proceeded to win me over and, eventually, blow me away.

Director Ken Rus Schmoll and dramaturg Melanie Joseph, the latter of whom is also the artistic producer of The Foundry Theater, have taken the original Pins and Needles and adapted it for an all-African-American ensemble. They've retained much of the original score, and a few of the sketches, and supplemented these with period songs and adapted scenes that illuminate the black experience, both of the 1930s and of today. Purists might balk at such liberal artistic license, but the original production of Pins and Needles was at all times a work in progress. Numbers came and went, as did scenes, based on topicality and the changing political landscape. So Rome, Blitzstein, Latouche and their collaborators would probably have been just fine with the idea of re-purposing their material for such a worthy effort. In fact, I think they would have been thrilled.

The whole piece came together for me during an entirely new scene toward the end of the show. Five of the performers perch themselves behind music stands and tell the stories about how they became activists. It could have been didactic and dull, but the stories, as adapted here by Sara Zatz, helped drive home the message that these weren't just performers. They were the actual people who were living out the stories that they were presenting. Apparently, FUREE started as a group of local activists from the projects around New York City, with the common goal of improving the living conditions in public housing, but the mission of the group has since expanded to include empowering the people of the projects to take ownership of their surroundings and of their lives. I found myself remarkably moved finding out about the real struggles of these enthusiastic performers. How often does theater afford you such an opportunity?

Beyond the performers, much of the material from the original Pins and Needles is just as relevant today as it was in the '30s and '40s, including sections about immigration, union busting, and Welfare. The last of these really hit home for me, as right before my New York trip, I had had a vivid discussion on the subject with my father. My dad, a staunch conservative, loves to collect and retell stories about Welfare cheats. Most recently, he told me about a woman who deliberately had an increasing number illegitimate children until she was getting $100,000 a year in public assistance. Of course, my father falls victim to the typical conservative ploy of taking one data point and making generalizations. I have no idea whether the story is true, but even if it is, every system has the potential for abuse. Does that mean we throw out the baby with the bathwater?

I really wish my father had been with me at Pins and Needles. Here were the stories of the people who don't want a handout. They want a chance. A chance to make a life of their own. As one song lyric from the show puts it, "I don't want your millions, mister. I just want my job back." Connecting with people and their stories. That's what theater is all about.

Pins and Needles has two more performances this Friday and Saturday at 7:30 PM. If you go, remember, these aren't AEA pros. These are real people, with a genuine and heartfelt connection to the material they so joyfully present. I hope you find it as transformative as I did.

Review - Where's Charley? at Encores

Phew. I'm finally caught up with my blogging on this season's musicals. (And it wasn't always pretty, m'kay?) Also, I've submitted all of my grades at the Boston Conservatory, so I have a chance to go back and catch up on a few shows that I was able to see but haven't yet had the opportunity to blog about.

One show that fell between the blogging cracks for me was the delightful Encores production of Where's Charley?, which is just the sort of obscure little gem that we look to institutions like Encores to discover, dust off, and restore to its former luster. This lively little confection boasts music and lyrics by Frank Loesser and book by George Abbott, based on the fin de siècle farce Charley's Aunt by Brandon Thomas.

In retrospect, it's hard to imagine how such a charming show could drift into obscurity. Frank Loesser would, of course, go on to craft the scores to such notable shows as Guys and Dolls, The Most Happy Fella, and How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. The star of Where's Charley? was Ray Bolger, who was already a significant star of both stage and screen when the show premiered in 1948, and who won the second-ever Tony Award for best actor in a musical. The show ran for nearly 800 performances, which is about two years, but unfortunately the score was never recorded because of a musicians' strike.

The show's London production, starring Norman Wisdom, did receive a recording, but the CD is a long-out-of-print collector's item, although the recording is available in MP3 form, and on-demand through ArvivMusic. And Bolger recorded some of the songs independently, including "Make a Miracle" and "Once In Love With Amy," which are both available on this version of the Guys and Dolls cast recording.

The story to Where's Charley? isn't much to speak of. It's just one of those mistaken-identity, man-dresses-up-as-a-woman, (and-for-reasons-we-find-oh-so-droll-in-hindsight), door-slamming farces, and the plot complications are often ridiculously thin. (One woman becomes jealous of her suitor because of the picture of an attractive woman that he keeps on his piano. Oh, horror!) And the show's denouement rests upon a development that is every bit as predictable as it is flimsy.

However, Frank Loesser's score is charming, overflowing with a rich profusion of delights that hint strongly at the future genius of Guys and Dolls and How to Succeed (the latter of which I also saw, and thoroughly enjoyed, the same weekend I took in Where's Charley?). What's more, the songs clearly reflect the Rodgers & Hammerstein revolution, each serving a specific dramatic purpose within the context of the show. "My Darling, My Darling" is a lilting love song with surprisingly erudite lyrics, reflecting the education level of the characters. "Make a Miracle" is a comic list song that illustrates time and place by enumerating many of technological advances awaiting the show's late-19th-Century characters.

I wasn't quite sure of the relevance of "The New Ashmolean Marching Society and Students' Conservatory Band," although with Encores shows, that's often more a function of playwright David Ives' adaptations than a reflection on the quality of the original piece. Nonetheless, the score to Where's Charley? deserves a full, modern recording. Perhaps the Loesser estate could persuade (and by "persuade" I mean "pay") Tommy Krasker over at PS Classics to give the score the deluxe treatment it deserves.

Director John Doyle coaxed sharp characterizations from his uniformly talented cast, and provided them with sprightly staging for the songs. Most notable among the cast was Rob McClure as Charley, who had a winning stage presence, a vibrant way with a punchline, and who proved himself quite adept at physical comedy. It was also quite a delight to see Howard McGillin and Rebecca Luker, two of the finest voices of my generation, paired together on-stage, although I must confess that it's become increasingly distressing that performers who are roughly my age are suddenly being relegated to the parental roles. (I guess this means my ingénue days are officially over. Sigh.)

Review - Anything Goes at the Roundabout

Things haven't been going all that well for the Roundabout Theatre Company over the past few seasons, particularly when it comes to musical theater. Two seasons back, Pal Joey was a thoroughly dismal affair. And Bye Bye Birdie last season was an utter abomination before all man- and woman-kind.

But the Roundabout seems to have rebounded quite handily with Anything Goes, a joyous revival of the Cole Porter favorite. Director/choreographer Kathleen Marshall and her staff seem to have stuck pretty close to the script from the 1988 revival with Patti LuPone, which is sort of symbolic of the entire production: there's nothing entirely new on view at The Stephen Sondheim Theater, but the entire enterprise is thoroughly professional, and a heck of a lot of fun.

Anything Goes occupies a unique position in musical-theater history: it's really the only show from the old style of musicals before Oklahoma that has lasted, albeit with significant changes upon each reincarnation. As I tell my students, this is fairly fitting, since the original show was a bit of a rush job. The original book was by the "Princess" pair P. G. Wodehouse, Guy Bolton, and was supposed to be about a shipwreck, but a large passenger ship sank off the coast of New Jersey shortly before the show was to open. As this would have been somewhat akin to a musical version of "The Towering Inferno" opening just after 9/11, the creative team panicked. Wodehouse and Bolton were in London, so the show's director, Howard Lindsay, teamed up with press agent Russell Crouse to throw together a quick re-write, which actually became the start of a successful writing team.

The 1963 Off-Broadway version of Anything Goes featured a revised book by Guy Bolton, and interpolated many of the Cole Porter numbers that we often associate with the show, but in fact were written for other Porter shows. These numbers include "It's De-Lovely" (from Red, Hot and Blue) and "Friendship" (from Dubarry Was a Lady). It's a testament to the non-integrated nature of Porter's songs that they are so easily transported from show to show. Porter was decidedly old school with respect to song-smithing, and wrote songs that were meant to be hits, not to fit a particular context within his shows. I mention this not as criticism merely observation: the same could be said of most of the output of George and Ira Gershwin, and we're talking some pretty glorious songs here.

But even the songs that were actually written for Anything Goes represented some questionable integration. When Cole Porter wrote "I Get a Kick Out of You," he knew it was going to a hit, but because the song occurred at the top of the show, he knew that his society friends, who always arrived fashionably late, would probably miss the song. So, he put in a reprise in Act 2 to make sure his influential friends would be exposed to the song and help make it a hit. I always use this example in my course as a point of contrast when I'm discussing the origin of the "dramatic reprise" (e.g. "Make Believe" from Show Boat, "If I Loved You" from Carousel).

OK, enough with the history lesson. The current production starts off a bit slow, but eventually act one builds to an effervescent crescendo. And Marshall's rousing take on the show's title number puts an energetic tag on the first act that excuses a multitude of plotting and pacing sins. Marshall has a knack for creating fluid old-fashioned choreography that also features quirky touches of modern inspiration. She also know how to dress a stage, and makes effective use of Derek McLane's multi-tiered set.

But, with all due respect to Marshall, this production's key asset is its absolutely top-notch cast. Sutton Foster is a marvel in anything she does, and in another age would have been the kind of performer that they created shows like Anything Goes especially for. Marshall makes effective use of Foster's many talents, to the point of re-conceiving "Blow, Gabriel, Blow" as a dance number. It's almost as though the show itself is saying, "Good Lord, a Reno Sweeney who can dance! Let's show her off." Even the sleepy blue-hairs at the Wednesday matinee that I attended woke up and took notice, and the number genuinely stopped the show.

Capably framing Foster is a talented complement of the best of Broadway, both past and present. From the old guard, we have the spry and adorable Joel Grey as Moonface Martin, and the masterfully comic John McMartin hamming it up swimmingly as Elisha Whitney. From the younger set, we have the charming Colin Donnell as Billy Crocker, a handsome and talented young man who almost made Johnny Baseball at the A.R.T. bearable. And a significant surprise for me was the winsome and sparkling Laura Osnes as Hope Harcourt. Say what you want about reality TV and the most recent revival of Grease, it provided a springboard for the eminently worthy Ms. Osnes. After winning her way onto Broadway, Osnes has since established herself as a dependable leading lady, both here and in taking Kelli O'Hara's place in South Pacific. And if Anything Goes is any indication, she should be around for many seasons to come.

The Roundabout recently announced that Anything Goes, which was originally supposed to run until July, has been extended to January 2012. I recommend taking it in, to witness both the best of what Broadway once was, and the best that it still can be.

Rodgers & Hammerstein's Allegro - A Staged Reading

Each semester for the past two school years, I've used the students in my musical-theater history class as academic guinea pigs, as it were, and put on a staged reading of a historically important but relatively obscure musical. Past shows in this series have been George M. Cohan's Little Johnny Jones, Irving Berlin's As Thousands Cheer, and Very Good Eddie, one of the seminal "Princess" musicals.

This semester, I wanted to put on a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, and I knew that show had to be Allegro (1947). The gentlemen certainly had their share of hits, but they did produce a few not-so-hits along the way, including Pipe Dream and Me & Juliet. These shows are not without their charms, but they can hardly be considered revolutionary. Allegro was.

For the uninitiated, Allegro was R&H's third stage show, after Oklahoma and Carousel, and came out shortly after their only musical written directly for the movies, "State Fair," which won them an Oscar for best song ("It Might as Well Be Spring"). And Allegro is one of the most important musicals that most people have never even heard of.

Allegro is nothing if not ambitious. The show represented a serious attempt on Oscar Hammerstein's part to craft an original story, rather than an adaptation, and reflected numerous innovations in the musical-theater form. Allegro was the first of what we now consider the "concept" musicals, shows that explore a particular idea rather than tell a specific A-to-Z story. (Other concept musicals include Love Life, Cabaret, Chicago, Company, and The Scottsboro Boys.) The concept for Allegro was originally a cradle-to-grave story of a certain earnest everyman, and how modern life presents challenges to his integrity. The birth-to-death idea proved untenable, so Allegro wound up being the cradle-to-midlife-crisis story of one Joseph Taylor, Jr.

Because the story had a rather ambitious temporal arc, Hammerstein made significant use of an omniscient Greek chorus, which comments on the action to both the actors and the audience. The show's physical production concept - an open playing area with a cyclorama for projections, and small set pieces that moved in and out of the playing area - represented a break from the literal realism of musicals at the time. Allegro also heralded the rise of the director/choreographer, in this case, Agnes de Mille. When we think of director/choreographers, we typically think of the men: Bob Fosse, Michael Bennett, Jerome Robbins, etc. But Agnes de Mille took on this dual role before any of those guys did. 

So, Allegro is unquestionably a significant show. But is it any good?

Despite the biggest advance sale of any musical up to that time, Allegro sharply divided audience members and critics when it premiered in 1947. While some thought it sublime and appreciated the sheer ambition and scope of the show, others found it pretentious, preachy, and boring. Until my experience of actually directing the show, I fell into the latter camp. In his libretto, Hammerstein expresses the dangers of social climbing and rampant materialism, and on the printed page, and on its two extant recordings, the show comes off as cold, humorless, and didactic. But the show really comes alive on stage, thanks in no small part to Oscar Hammerstein's warm and three-dimensional characterizations and Richard Rodgers' thrilling and tuneful score.

Another potential problem with the show is that the central love story seems at first to be cynical and empty. That was by design, but it can make for an unsatisfying experience. Joe grows up to wed his childhood sweetheart, Jenny. Act 1 ends with their wedding, in which everyone onstage seems to question whether this is really a good idea. It's the sort of thing Stephen Sondheim could have pulled off with alacrity, but Hammerstein seems have had a hard time making it compelling. (Sondheim actually served as a production assistant during Allegro's tryout period, and points to Allegro as providing inspiration for much of his later work.) One of the things I've tried to do with this production is make Jenny a believable and sympathetic person, someone who simply has her own ideas about what she wants from life, and not a heartless, calculating monster.

One of most important influences that the shows of Rodgers and Hammerstein had on musical-theater history was the integration of dance into the dramatic fabric of the shows they produced. This began with Oklahoma, which contains numerous examples of dramatically purposeful dance, including "Kansas City," "Many a New Day," "The Farmer and the Cowman," and of course the famous dream ballet, AKA "Laurey Makes up Her Mind." Following this, we had Carousel, which includes a stunning opening pantomime set to some of Rodgers' most compelling and evocative music, the "Carousel Waltz," as well as an alternately raucous and heartfelt ballet that shows the central character, Billy Bigelow, the full extent of the damage he's done to the life of his daughter. And perhaps most thrilling of all is the glorious "Small House of Uncle Thomas" in The King & I, one of the best examples of dance that serves a central and thematic narrative purpose.

Perhaps not surprisingly, since Agnes de Mille was at the helm, Allegro originally had quite a bit of dance, including four separate ballets. Because I only have 5 rehearsals for these staged readings, it's really not possible for me to choreograph any complicated numbers, so I had to cut most, if not all, of the dance. But I think it's really interesting to note that the show's story still works without the dance, which probably means that, with all due respect to Agnes de Mille and her collaborators, the dance for Allegro isn't really all that central to the message of the show. Additive, yes, but not requisite.

Allegro has performances this Monday, April 11th and Tuesday, April 12th, both at 8 PM at The Boston Conservatory's Zack Box Theater. Admission is free, and seating is unreserved, general admission. If you're in the Boston area and would like to attend, shoot me a message. Remember that these are bare-bones productions, produced on less than a shoestring, and designed to showcase the work itself. Come experience some terrific young performers, and the glory of some of Rodgers and Hammerstein's best but least-known work.

The Most Underrated Musical - Spring 2011

Ah, spring break. Time for me to catch up on some long-overdue blogging.

Towards the start of each semester, the students in my musical-theater history course at the Boston Conservatory embark upon two writing projects: the Most Overrated Musical and the Most Underrated Musical. See below for the results to the former. Herein lie the results to the latter.

Major caveat: my students are unquestionably influenced in their choice of shows by my impassioned in-class rhetoric, as well as my previous posts and lists on the subject on this very blog. So this is a decidedly skewed sampling, one that doesn't even begin to approach scientific validity. Nonetheless, I like to post the results to give my readers a glimpse into what the theater queens of tomorrow are thinking with regard to overall show quality.

Here are the shows that received more than one "vote" each:

8 Wicked
4 The Wedding Singer
3 She Loves Me
2 Grey Gardens
2 Ragtime
2 Sunday in the Park With George
2 Titanic

And here are the shows that received one vote a piece:

Annie, Beauty and the Beast, Brigadoon, Bye Bye Birdie, Footloose, The Last Five Years, Legally Blonde, Les Miserables, The Light in the Piazza, The Most Happy Fella, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, The Secret Garden, Thoroughly Modern Millie, Tick Tick Boom, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Wicked?! How could anyone call Wicked underrated? It's one of the biggest hit shows in the history of ever!" Well, I offer my students a number of essential categories into which an "underrated" show might fall: an undiscovered or forgotten gem (She Loves Me, 110 in the Shade), a financially unsuccessful show that may have deserved a longer run (The Wedding Singer, A Catered Affair) or an overblown spectacle that doesn't get the credit it deserves (Wicked, Les Miserables). The idea isn't for students to make a watertight, unassailable case for the show in question. It's to get them thinking more analytically about the artistic value of the shows that they see and perform in.

I've always been a big fan of Wicked. I happen to think that it has a whole lot more going for it than simply a spectacular production and flying green witches. It also reflects a lot of the topics, tactics, and techniques that I cover in my musical-theater history course, including believable and compelling character arcs (Elphaba, Glinda, Fiyero, and Nessa Rose), ambitious extended musical sequences ("No One Mourns the Wicked," "Dancing Through Life"), dramatically motivated reprises ("I'm Not That Girl"), political allegory ("Popular," "Wonderful"), as well as leitmotifs ("...unlimited...," "...I'm limited..."). To me, Wicked is very similar to Cabaret or Chicago in the sense that you can enjoy the show purely for its entertainment value, or you could listen more closely and maybe learn something.

I'm also totally on board with The Wedding Singer. It was one of the first shows I ever reviewed on this blog, and at the time I thought it was fairly mediocre. But in the years since the show bowed (and bowed out) on Broadway, the cast recording has made me a genuine fan. There's some really smart writing in the book and the lyrics, the songs are tuneful, and the orchestrations instantly transport me back to my distant youth in the 1980s. It also employs contrafactum ("Letter From Linda," "Letter From Grandma"), extended musical sequences ("Not That Kind of Thing," "Saturday Night in the City"), and leitmotifs ("...tell the night to save its moonlight..."). Plus, the show has its heart in the right place, and it seems to be catching on in regional and high school theaters. I know I'd much rather see The Wedding Singer proliferate than, say, Fame or Footloose. High schools need more than just Grease and Bye Bye Birdie in their repertoire.

So, whaddya think, dear reader? Any of my students choices surprise? Appall? Anything missing that you'd add to the list?

The Most Overrated Musical - Spring 2011

Papers, papers, papers. I recently sat down to calculate how many pages I would be reading and grading this semester. I have 79 students, who will engage in a total of 15 writing projects. That's 1,185 papers. And let's say the papers are an average of 3 pages each. That's 3,555 pages. And that doesn't take into account various midterms, finals, and quizzes.

Don't *nobody* bring me no bad news.

But, even though yet another pile of papers awaits, I couldn't resist the temptation to share with you, dear reader, this semester's crop of my students' choices for "The Most Overrated Musical." In my course on The History of Musical Theater, I assign students two writing topics as a sort of ramp up to the midterm and the final. This gives them a chance to see what I'm looking for, and for me to see how they think and write.

Every semester, I publish the list of shows that my students choose to write their papers on, with editorial comments from yours truly. A few caveats, though:

• I guide the students quite heavily in their choices, so the list is clearly influenced by my own preferences and prejudices. Also, they clearly read my blog looking for ideas, and check out my own list of "overrated" musicals for inspiration.
• I strongly suggest that they only write about a show for which they, or I, have access to the libretto. So even though numerous students express the urge to lambaste Mary Poppins, Billy Elliot, The Little Mermaid, and The Lion King, I don't have copies of the libretti for those shows, so I usually try to steer these students towards another show.
• I discourage students from writing about certain shows - for instance Cats and Grease - not because I think they're good, but because experience has taught me that students have a hard time pointing out exactly what's wrong with them.
• I also discourage other shows that are just so bleeding awful that calling them "overrated" would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Examples here include Footloose, Fame, and High School Musical.

So, all that said, here's this semester's Most Overrated Musicals:

5 Bye Bye Birdie
5 Spring Awakening
4 Mamma Mia
3 South Pacific
2 Aida
2 Anything Goes
2 Hair
2 Les Miserables
2 Thoroughly Modern Millie

The following choices received one "vote" each: The Addams Family, Blood Brothers, Brigadoon, Carousel, Hello Dolly, Next to Normal, Pippin, Rent, Sunday in the Park With George, Sweet Charity, Two Gentlemen of Verona, Wicked, The Wild Party (Lippa).

Very few surprises here. Again, it's pretty clear that my students read my blog, which accounts for the strong presence of South Pacific. Regular readers will recall that I consider SoPac to be the most overrated musical of all time.

And I make specific mention of Spring Awakening quite frequently in class, particularly when I'm talking about integration - A.K.A. the extent to which elements of a musical propel the plot, reveal character, establish time and place, or just in general serve some kind of thematic or dramatic function in the show. No matter how you feel about Spring Awakening, the first three numbers of act 2 - "The Guilty Ones," "Don’t Do Sadness/Blue Wind," and "Left Behind" - are of questionable relevance at best, at least in as much as the lyrics connect to the story and the characters. 

The big surprise this semester is Two Gentlemen of Verona. Few people have heard of this show, let alone seen or performed in it, but this unbearable little clunker has the notorious distinction of beating out Stephen Sondheim's Follies for the Best Musical Tony Award in 1972. And Two Gentlemen is awful. Awful, awful, awful. The cast recording is virtually unlistenable, and the show has fallen into well-deserved obscurity, while Follies has rightfully attained the status of, if not a masterpiece, then a deeply flawed but nonetheless fascinating experiment, with one of the best scores in musical-theater history.

You might ask, well, why focus on the negative? Why not have the students write about The Most Underrated Musical? Well, I do. I'm of the opinion that students can sharpen their critical-thinking skills through constructive analysis, but in the positive and negative realms. And the next batch of papers on the Most Underrated Musical sits right next to me as I type, looming large upon my blue-penciling horizon.

Stay tuned.

Review - Lost in the Stars at Encores

Yeah, I know. I've been greatly remiss in my blogging duties. Mea culpa. I'm wearing a hair shirt even as I type. But the semester is in full swing here at The Boston Conservatory, and this is my first real chance since classes resumed to sit down and craft a blog post.

Thankfully, my blogging and my teaching often have a chance to intersect, as they did recently when I took in a performance of Lost in the Stars, which was part of the current season of offerings from Encores at New York City Center.

I've been teaching about Lost in the Stars for years, but until the present production had never had a chance to see the show live. I've had to make do with the 1974 screen adaptation, which makes a significant number of changes to the show, some of them ill-advised, if not downright unforgivable. Otherwise, opportunities to see Lost in the Stars are pretty scarce. The original Broadway run of the show in 1949 was 281 performances, and a 1972 revival ran only 39 performances. Since then, the show has pretty much disappeared from view. As we'll see, there are reasons for that.

For the uninitiated, Lost in the Stars was composer Kurt Weill's final Broadway musical. He died at the age of 50 shortly after the show premiered. The book and lyrics are by playwright Maxwell Anderson, whose only other Broadway musical was the turgid and preachy Knickerbocker Holiday. I mention this because, although Lost in the Stars holds an important place in musical-theater history, that distinction comes more from the show's early sympathetic treatment of blacks, and from its distinction of being the first significant musical tragedy. Lost in the Stars, based on the novel Cry, the Beloved Country by South African author Alan Paton, is ambitious and important. Unfortunately, it isn't very good.

Lost in the Stars tells the heartbreaking story of Steven Kumalo, a rural South African preacher, who sets off to Johannesburg to find his wayward son Absalom, only to discover that Absalom is in serious trouble with the law. Far from a simplistic anti-Apartheid screed, the story is rather a complex exploration of the effects of racial segregation and institutionalized distrust.

It's really too bad that Anderson and Weill weren't able to craft a more cohesive show, one worthy of its admirable ambitions. For, apart from a few heart-rending moments, the show as a whole is strangely unaffecting. Lost in the Stars, at least as presented here in a concert adaptation by David Ives, plays more like a straight play with interpolated folk songs and the occasional oratorio.

The score comprises two distinct sets of songs: plant-and-belt solos and Greek-chorus-style choral numbers, with jarringly disparate styles. The music for the book songs often has a blithe, jaunty air that seems out of sync with the tragic nature of the story. The choral numbers have more of a somber tone, but both sets of songs feature lyrics that are too often oblique and allegorical, which impedes any emotional connection the audience might feel with the characters. What's more, the solo numbers typically have a stop-and-sing quality that thwarts rather than propels the forward motion of the drama.

Given Kurt Weill's working history with Bertolt Brecht, perhaps it's not surprising that many of his songs here feel like Brecht's famed alienation devices. But whereas Brecht, through his "epic theater," sought to create a consciously critical observer, such an impetus would seem counterproductive for the story to Lost in the Stars, at least from where I sat. I wanted to feel more for these characters, not sit back and intellectualize their situation. As such, I found my attention wandering during the songs, but considerably more engaged during the book scenes.

[SPOILER ALERT: I reveal the ending of the show in the text below.]

There were, of course, exceptions, and one in particular was simply stunning. I've always been a huge fan of the show's title number, given a stirring rendition here by Chuck Cooper as Steven Kumalo. The preacher, a man of deep, abiding faith, starts to question whether God has abandoned his people, based on the tragic events that are unfolding in Steven's life. Cooper makes the preacher's heartbreak profoundly palpable, but the moment made me all the more cognizant of what was missing from the rest of the score.

By and large, the most effective scenes in the show seem to have been taken directly from the book, presented here without benefit of music. Steven's son Absalom has been condemned to death for a murder that took place during a robbery. Absalom shoots a young white man, ironically a man who is a staunch advocate of the rights of blacks and an Apartheid abolitionist. And here's the thing: Absalom is genuinely guilty, although he shoots the gun in a frenzied panic. That's something I've always admired about Paton's story: it isn't cut and dried. There are no cardboard villains or two-dimensional heroes. These are real people, with real flaws, which adds complex drama and realism to the story. Paton's novel may be about the tragedy of Apartheid, but it respects its audience enough to flesh the story out in all its moral ambiguity.

Despite my lack of engagement during most of the show, when the final scene arrived, I was a wet sloppy mess. The father of the slain white man visits Steven at the precise hour when Absalom is to be hanged. The white man's father, a man who had been a firm believer in Apartheid, has come to realize that both men share in the tragedy of their respective losses. The man offers Steven his hand in friendship just as the church bell tolls to indicate that the hanging has taken place. Cooper let out a wail of anguish that shook me to the core and had me unsuccessfully choking back tears at the sheer force of the man's grief. It was a thrilling moment, and one that nearly redeemed the spotty construction reflected throughout the rest of show.

Intent versus execution. That's something that I'm always harping on with my students. Just because a show has good intentions, or a meaningful message, that doesn't mean that the show gets a pass in terms of the quality of its execution. And yet, I still found myself thankful that Weill and Anderson had made the attempt. At one point during the show, some anti-Apartheid activists discuss their strategy. Change will only come slowly, they say. They can't push too hard, or they would risk losing whatever progress they'd already made. I found my self thinking, as these people were discussing the pain of their situation and the coming of a better day, that these poor souls would have another 40 years to wait for that day to come.

I also found myself wondering whether, in its admittedly flawed way, Lost in the Stars had helped make that change a reality.

The Bestest Musical Ever - Spring 2011

Snow day here at the BoCo. Gives me a chance to catch up on some blogging. Here goes...

Each semester, I begin my musical-theater history course at the Boston Conservatory by asking students to write down the three best musicals of all time. We then tally the results on the board and use the list to spark a spirited discussion about what makes a good show good.

Since I started this blog in 2006, I've been posting the results of this exercise for my readers to enjoy, benefit from, disagree with, etc. (Click here to see previous posts.)

This semester's list is a bit different in a number of respects. First, it's longer than usual. This is because I have more students this semester. For the first time, I have two separate sections of the course, one for undergraduates and one for grad students. I also have more than my usual complement of visiting students from Berklee College of Music, with whose campus the BoCo's is intimately interwoven.

However, the additional students haven't simply increased the size of the list, they've also transformed its very character. Here are the shows that received multiple votes, as well as the number of votes each received:

11 West Side Story
6 Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
5 A Chorus Line
5 Gypsy
5 Oklahoma!
5 Ragtime
5 Show Boat
4 Company
4 Carousel
4 Les Miserables
4 Cabaret
3 A Little Night Music
3 The Phantom of the Opera
3 Wicked
3 Chicago
3 Thoroughly Modern Millie
3 Anything Goes
3 Sunday in the Park With George
3 Next to Normal
2 Jersey Boys
2 In the Heights
2 The Mystery of Edwin Drood
2 My Fair Lady
2 Jekyll & Hyde
2 Guys and Dolls
2 South Pacific
2 Fiddler on the Roof

And here, in no particular order, are the shows that received one vote each:

The Music Man, Miss Saigon, Parade, Man of La Mancha, Legally Blonde, The Light in the Piazza, Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, The Fantasticks, Hairspray, The Scottsboro Boys, Singing in the Rain, Little Shop of Horrors, Hello Dolly, Spring Awakening, Candide, [title of show], Little Women, Kiss Me Kate, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, The Last Five Years.

Lots of really great stuff, huh? What really sticks out for me is how high Show Boat and Oklahoma rank this semester. They each usually make a nominal appearance, but I can't recall a time when they were both in the top ten. I don't think it would be condescending of me to point out that the relative maturity of the grad students accounts for this, especially considering all 5 of the Show Boat votes and 3 of the Oklahoma votes came from that class section. Are the grads simply making a more overt effort to impress, whereas the undergrads are simply voting their hearts? I'm feeling uncharacteristically charitable today, so I'm going to ascribe it to a genuinely refined sense of quality.

I also notice in the current list more of a sense of historical perspective. These lists are always influenced by which shows are actually playing on Broadway and on tour at any given time. But the only real evidence I see of that this semester is the presence of both In the Heights and Next to Normal. Now that both of those shows have closed in New York, it makes me wonder whether they'll continue to show up in future semesters, and indeed in future years. I genuinely think In the Heights will fade from memory rather quickly, at least until the movie comes out. Next to Normal will likely have a bit more staying power, particularly in light of its recent Pulitzer win.

One genuine surprise this time is the multiple votes for The Mystery of Edwin Drood, a decidedly lackluster musical that nonetheless won the Tony Award (by default: it was a really slow year), and then proceeded to virtually disappear. I'm not sure how to explain its presence on the list this semester, except for the fact that the Speakeasy Stage put on a production of the show a few years back. But since these students are mostly freshmen, many of whom come from outside the Boston area, I can't really see that production as much of a factor.

So, whaddya think, dear reader? Anything in this semester's list that sticks out for you?

As Thousands Cheer and the 1930s Revue

Yes, folks, it's that time of the semester again: staged-reading madness!

Regular readers will likely recall that, as part of my musical-theater history course at the Boston Conservatory, my students take part in a staged reading of a historically significant but relatively unknown or even forgotten musical. The idea is to expose them to shows that they otherwise might not have a chance to perform in, or even see. I usually like to say that if I tell people the name of the show I'm directing, and that person has actually heard of it, then I have failed.

Now, this isn't entirely true, but it conveys the essence of my goal. The inaugural show in this series, in the fall of 2009, was the George M. Cohan musical Little Johnny Jones (1905). Last semester we did Very Good Eddie (1915), one of the influential "Princess musicals," with scores by Jerome Kern. Not exactly top-of-mind theater fare, but nonetheless historically significant in the development of the musical-theater form.

This semester, I wanted to do a topical revue, a very common genre in the 1920s and 1930s, although the form has since virtually disappeared. These shows essentially grew out of the lavish Broadway revues that sprang up between the two world wars, the most famous being those of Florenz Ziegfeld. Other entrants in this genre included Earl Carroll’s Vanities, George White’s Scandals, and the Shubert brothers’ Passing Show series. The revues of the '20s were mostly escapist fare, although they did contain the occasional nod to topicality and social relevance.

The 1930s were a time when the Broadway revue would reach both its maturity and ultimate decline. The standard formula featured marquee-value stars, tuneful scores, and copious dance. Add in plenty of vaudevillian-style humor and some stunning visuals – in the form of lavish sets and costumes, and a brace of pulchritudinous showgirls – and the stage was set for a grand night at the theater. The least interesting revues of the ’30s were little more than variety shows. But the most compelling were an art form in themselves, reflecting a cohesion that brought all the elements together into a unique experience, often one with a lot more on its mind than mere entertainment.

In the transition from the '20s to the '30s, the tone of shows on Broadway changed a great deal, and the revue form followed suit. With the advent of the Depression, left-leaning creators co-opted the musical art form to decry, lament, and otherwise comment on the seeming collapse of capitalism. Among the more satiric revue offerings were Pins and Needles, Life Begins at 8:40, and As Thousands Cheer, the last of which the students of my musical-theater history class will be presenting this Saturday and Sunday at the Boston Conservatory.

Fresh from the success of their well-received Face the Music (which features an unscrupulous producer who wants to deliberately produce a flop show - sound familiar?), composer/lyricist Irving Berlin and librettist Moss Hart turned their satiric eye to the events of the day. They chose as their framing device the daily newspaper. Each of the scenes and songs in the show was preceded by a newspaper headline, with sketches that poked fun at wide variety of subjects, from the marital woes of Barbara Hutton ("Barbara Hutton to Marry Prince Mdvani") and Joan Crawford ("Joan Crawford and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. Announce Divorce"), to Gandhi and Aimee Semple McPherson ("Gandhi Goes on New Hunger Strike"), to an embittered President and Mrs. Hoover leaving the White House ("Franklin Delano Roosevelt Inaugurated Tomorrow"). The score featured what would become some of Berlin's most popular songs, including "Easter Parade" (The Rotogravure Section) and "Heat Wave" ("Heat Wave Hits New York City").

But the most memorable, and heartbreaking moment in the show comes in the second act. An African-American woman sings what initially seems to be yet another "He Done Me Wrong" torch song, but at the end of the song the headline reveals the stark truth: "Unknown Negro Lynched by Angry Mob in Mississippi." The song is the simple but stunning "Supper Time," and we have the great fortune of having BoCo junior Lori Tishfield to perform it. (Mark that name my friends. Some day soon you will see it in lights.) As Thousands Cheer was the first Broadway show to give an African-American star, in this case the legendary Ethel Waters, equal billing with whites.

The original 1933 production also featured Marilyn Miller, in her final stage appearance before her premature death, as well as Clifton Webb and Helen Broderick. The show ran at Irving Berlin's Music Box Theatre for some 400 performances, which was pretty impressive for a show that opened in the heart of the Depression. The show has had only one significant revival, in 1998 at New York's Drama Department. That production was directed by Christopher Ashley and featured musical staging by Kathleen Marshall. The cast included Kevin Chamberlin, Judy Kuhn, Howard McGillin, Paula Newsome, Mary Beth Peil and B. D. Wong, and it produced the show's only original cast recording. (Cast recordings didn't really catch on until the 1940s with Oklahoma, although both Pins and Needles and The Cradle Will Rock were recorded prior to that.)

So, hey, if you're in the 'hood, and want to see a show that you otherwise might not have a chance to catch, why not head down to the Boston Conservatory. The show is this Saturday at 9PM and Sunday at 7PM, both in the Zack Box Theater at 8 The Fenway. We'd love to see you there.

Review - Bells Are Ringing at Encores

I was a bit perplexed when I heard that Encores would be presenting Bells Are Ringing as part of its 2010-2011 lineup. Encores is supposedly devoted to presenting underrepresented musicals, shows that some people may have forgotten about. The other two shows in the current season certainly fit that bill: Where's Charley and Lost in the Stars.

But Bells Are Ringing? Didn't we just have a Broadway revival in 2001 with Faith Prince? Granted, the production only lasted two months, but it did yield a cast recording.

Well, it turns out there's a reason that production didn't last: the show isn't very good. Oh, sure, there's a handful of marvelous songs, but they're surrounded by the creakiest book this side of Oklahoma. The state and the musical. The original production of Bells Are Ringing ran 924 performances, but that was mostly on the strength of original star, the marvelous Judy Holliday.

With all due respect to Betty Comden and Adolph Green, their material simply hasn't aged very well. In fact, the stop-and-sing, scene/song/dance structure of Bells Are Ringing was antiquated even in 1956. Director/choreographer Kathleen Marshall, the talented sibling in the Marshall family, does what she can to bring the material to life, but she's irreparably hampered here by manufactured drama (e.g. The local police inspector really has nothing better to do than keep an eye on the supposed nefarious activities at Susaswerphone?) and forced coincidence (e.g. three male characters just happen to all show up at The Pyramid Club, bringing about the show's forced denouement?).

Granted, Bells Are Ringing features some of Jule Styne's most glorious melodies, including that of the enchanting "Long Before I Knew You." Plus, this song has one of the most charming excuses for a second verse I've ever heard. The female lead, Ella Peterson, is taking down dictation from Jeffrey Moss, each the object of the other's affection. Jeff starts with:

Long before I knew you,
Long before I met you,
I was sure I'd find you,
Someday, somewhere.

Jeff finishes the verse, then turns to Ella and says, "You haven't taken down a word." Ella replies, "I didn't have to," and sings the whole thing back to him. It's a delightful moment, right up there with "It Only Takes a Moment" from Hello, Dolly, in which the court reporter plays a very similar function.

But Styne's music here also features some genuine clunkers, such as "Independent" and "Better Than a Dream." Also, there are a number of songs here that are almost completely superfluous, including "Hello, Hello There" and "Mu-Cha-Cha." Yes, the first is meant to demonstrate that Ella has a wonderful way with people, but doesn't the rest of the book amply demonstrate that point? And the second seems as though it was just a chance to give co-choreographer Bob Fosse something to do.

As for the cast, I used to think that Kelli O'Hara was one of our most versatile actresses, excelling at both the subtle drama of Light in the Piazza to the brassy comedy of The Pajama Game. But based on this performance I'm beginning to have my doubts. Her accent seemed recycled from South Pacific. She fared perfectly well when she was singing, particularly on "The Party's Over," but her attempts at comedy fell surprisingly flat.

This may be my adoration for Judy Holliday talking here, but O'Hara doesn't seem to have anywhere near the flare for physical comedy or humorous impersonation to pull off the part of Ella Peterson. Holliday really must have kicked comedic ass. I usually avoid answering those questions that people post on Twitter about the one performance you'd want to go back in time to see. Well, I'd go back and see Judy Holliday in anything, even Hot Spot. (Especially Hot Spot.) But I would particularly love to go back and see her take the flimsy material in Bells Are Ringing and make it work.

The male cast is strong, particularly Will Chase as Jeff Moss. Chase once again demonstrates his remarkable versatility as a performer. He has such a rich and resonant voice, and an acting style that runs the gamut from Rent to The Story of My Life, from High Fidelty to Bells Are Ringing. Now that's range for you. (Matthew Morrison, eat your heart out.) The marvelous David Pittu is always a spark on stage, but Sandor's big number, "It's a Simple Little System," is rather one-joke, and not a very funny one at that. Bobby Cannavale, who showed such a knack for comedy on "Will & Grace," probably seemed a natural choice for the part of Blake Barton, the Brando-wannabe, but on the whole he seemed under-rehearsed.

If seeing Bells Are Ringing elicited any positive response, it was in my desire to break out the original cast recording and throw in my DVD of "Born Yesterday." Judy Holliday is a classic. Bells Are Ringing, not so much.

The Scottsboro Boys Targeted by Protesters

What is "ignorance"? Calling someone "ignorant" has taken on a decidedly pejorative connotation, but in the strictest sense, "ignorance" simply means "lack of knowledge."

So I mean no disrespect when I call the protestors who picketed outside last Saturday's matinee performance of The Scottsboro Boys ignorant. The 30 or so protesters were from an organization called The Freedom Party, and from their Web site, I get the sense that this is a well-meaning group of people.

But I also get the sense, as is so often the case when a group protests a particular work, that few if any of these people had actually seen the show. And that, if true, technically makes them ignorant.

Why were these people protesting? Well, essentially they object to the show's use of minstrelsy and blackface to illuminate its tragic subject matter. Here's their case in their own words:

"This racist play has reduced the tragedy of the Scottsboro Boys case to a Step n Fetchit comedic, minstrel exhibition...It is this type of attack on our culture and history which makes the Freedom Party absolutely necessary."

I suppose it's possible that at least one person involved had actually seen the show, but if someone had, then that person would have had a chance to read the program notes, which include the following statement from the authors:

"The Scottsboro Boys uses the free-for-all atmosphere of the minstrel show to provide a fitting backdrop for the racially charged media and legal circuses that surrounded the real Scottsboro Boys trials."

There's no question that the idea of using a patently offensive device to tell what is ultimately an empowering story is a controversial prospect. According to a recent article in the New York Times, the actors themselves have had challenges with the subject matter as well as the show's presentation style.

But does that give these people the right to call patrons of the show "racists"? Because that's what some of them were doing last Saturday. I know, because a large group of my students from the Boston Conservatory were in attendance at this particular performance of The Scottsboro Boys. And they filmed portions of the protest and posted the footage on Facebook.

The irony, of course, is that these students were attending the show precisely because they are *not* racists. Many of them were seeing the show at my urging or based on my review. A further irony is that a number of students told me that they were even more captivated by the show because of the protest, which only served to emphasize the importance of the show's message and the incredible power of its artistic execution.

The Scottsboro brouhaha reminded me of when, a few years back, the Boston Conservatory put on a production of Show Boat. Because I teach musical-theater history, I was thrilled that students would have the opportunity to experience this seminal show firsthand. I cover Show Boat in great detail, and make a point of addressing how it was the first show to treat African Americans as three-dimensional, sympathetic people.

In fact, librettist Oscar Hammerstein makes black people the symbolic backbone of the show, most notably by giving Joe, the black stevedore, the show's central anthem, "Old Man River." What's more, one of the major plots of the show centers around the tragedy of how racism destroys the career and life of Julie LaVerne, the mulatto leading lady of the show boat before a jealous suitor reveals her interracial marriage (which was illegal in Mississippi at the time) to the local sheriff.

In addition, I devote a good portion of the first half of my course to the evolution of the portrayal of African Americans in musical theater, from unfortunate stereotypes (Shuffle Along), to sympathetic social commentary (As Thousands Cheer), to stark heart-rending tragedy (Lost in the Stars). So, I was rather taken aback when students protested the fact that we were doing the show, because of the supposedly negative portrayal of African Americans in the show. These were all students who had taken my course, which really had me scratching my head. Had they simply not been paying attention? Had they ever actually seen the entire show? Because anyone who sees Show Boat and thinks that the show is somehow condescending or disrespectful to blacks simply didn't understand the show.

Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, but an informed opinion holds a lot more sway, at least when it comes to the artistic and social value of a certain work. In all honesty, I hope the good folks at The Freedom Party continue to protest The Scottsboro Boys. In the long run, it can only raise the profile of a magnificent show that deserves to be seen.

Review - The Scottsboro Boys on Broadway

I'm often struck by the preconceptions people have about musical theater. For many people, musicals are only supposed to be fun and tuneful, and that's basically it. Anything that transgresses these confines couldn't possibly be a musical, at least not in their narrow estimation.

Well, these people would probably hate The Scottsboro Boys, which is a tad ironic, because it's one of the most tuneful shows in many a season. But beyond the deceptively pleasant nature of John Kander's music are the late Fred Ebb's alternately searing and simple lyrics, as well as David Thompson's indignant and incisive book. One of the hallmarks of the long and fruitful careers of Kander and Ebb was demonstrating the power of the musical to go beyond mere entertainment into the realm of human drama and social relevance. And, on that front, The Scottsboro Boys represents a fitting cap to a productive and groundbreaking partnership.

I was fairly blown away when I saw The Scottsboro Boys at the Vineyard Theatre. (Read my review of Scottsboro Boys Off Broadway.) The show has since played a stint at the Guthrie Theater, but I didn't notice any major changes to the show itself, other than maybe clarifying some scenes, and a bit of recasting. The authors have decided to retain a certain historical framing device, which they had originally asked critics not to reveal in their reviews, but have subsequently begun revealing it themselves in certain promotional materials. I will, however, maintain silence on this front, as the revelation significantly increases the impact of the show.

As you may know, the show is a stylized retelling of the story of the "Scottsboro Boys," a group of nine African American men falsely accused of raping two white women on a train in 1931. In keeping with the longstanding Kander & Ebb tradition of "concept" shows, the creators have conceived The Scottsboro Boys as a minstrel show, including a stunningly subversive use of blackface. The result is an upsetting but emotionally cathartic show that is frankly hard to sit through, but not because of any lack of talent on the authors' part. It's just not a very proud moment in U.S. history.

Although the show clearly places the blame for the Scottsboro tragedy at the feet of Southern racism, the authors are careful not to let the North off the hook. In the guise of the Jewish lawyer who takes on the Scottsboro defense, the show sends up both the anti-Semitism of the south and the patronizing attitudes of the northern liberals.

Director/choreographer Susan Stroman and librettist Thompson have worked closely with Kander & Ebb (the latter in absentia) to create "entertaining" interludes throughout the show to keep it from becoming a preachy, depressing dirge. I was reminded of the daring and controversial nature of The Scottsboro Boys when a man seated in front of me at the Lyceum got up and left during a stunningly conceived number called "Electric Chair," which employs the racial stereotypes of tap dancing to illuminate the horror of a child's nightmare. Yes, it's shocking and offensive. It's meant to be.

The show retains some of its admittedly minor flaws. I still find the number "Commencing in Chattanooga" inscrutable. The tune is pleasant and certainly sets the scene, but the lyric is uncharacteristically opaque for Fred Ebb. The result is an uninspired "wanting" song, a rare misstep in an otherwise powerful and provocative show. The stunning finale thankfully retains its power to astound. Even though I knew it was coming, the raw shock of the moment once again had me numb and in tears.

The Broadway cast features many of the same performers from the Vineyard run, including the great John Cullum as interlocutor and emcee, as well as the formidable Colman Domingo and Forrest McClendon in protean roles throughout the show. The major cast change is Joshua Henry in the central role of Haywood Patterson. Henry brings great strength to the role, but I didn't find him nearly as emotionally compelling as Brandon Victor Dixon, who played the part Off Broadway.

A bunch of my students from the Boston Conservatory are headed down on a school trip to New York City next weekend. As part of the package deal, they have the option of seeing either La Cage aux Folles or The Scottsboro Boys. As fond as I am of the current production of La Cage (read my review), I've been recommending that students see The Scottsboro Boys. And anyone who cares about the future of musical theater will want do the same.

The Most Overrated Musical - Fall 2010

My blogging frequency typically plummets this time of year, what with the start of a new semester and all. But the upside of all this academic activity is that I have a new crop of musical-theater majors who are actively sharpening their critical skills on a couple of exercises that I submit them to each semester. And the upshot of those exercises, dear reader, is a number of lists that I make a habit of sharing with you.

My most recent post enumerated the students' choices for The Bestest Musical Ever (subject to change by semester's end), and just today my students passed in their first paper, the assignment for which was to select and defend (emphasis on "defend") their choices for the "most overrated" musical ever.

When I mentioned this paper topic on Twitter, one of my followers wondered why I chose to "take the negative tack." "Why not ask about the most underrated musical and hear about virtues?" My prescient friend anticipated the next assignment facing my students: the most underrated musical. But his point is a fair one: why focus on the negative? Why not put the "underrated" paper first? Well, as we all know, for many people it's much easier to criticize than to praise, so this makes for a more accessible task to start with. And once they've ripped some poor unsuspecting show a new one, they're in a better position to discuss what makes the good shows good. At least that's the theory.

Below is the list of shows that students chose to write about this semester, as well as the number of students who wrote about that show. A few caveats: Based on previous experience, I actively discourage students from writing about certain shows, including Grease, Cats, and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I'm not saying I think these shows are above reproach. Hardly. It's just that I've found that students have had a difficult time explaining what exactly is wrong with them. There have been exceptions: I had a terrific anti-Cats paper last semester, and one of the best papers I've ever received was about Joseph. But over the years, I've seen more students struggle with these shows, so I tend to steer students away.

Also, the list below is clearly influenced by my own personal biases, as well as what I've written about these shows on my blog. I even have my own list of The Most Overrated Musicals, which you can check out by clicking through on the link. (Equal time: I also keep a list of The Most Underrated Musicals.) So, in no way is this list a representative sampling of...well, of anything, really. It's just an academic exercise, more important for the process than the product.

All that said, let's take a look at the list:

5 Pippin
3 The Phantom of the Opera
2 Bare
2 Bye Bye Birdie
2 In the Heights
2 Mamma Mia
2 South Pacific

One paper each: Aida, Annie, Curtains, Godspell, Footloose, Les Miserables, Miss Saigon, Nunsense, Rent, Side Show, Spring Awakening, The Pajama Game, Thoroughly Modern Millie

Now, Pippin has shown up before, but never quite to this extent. I do know that I steered at least two students toward that show. When students are having a hard time choosing a show, I ask them to send me a list of shows that they've done, and clearly I've been in an anti-Pippin state of mind. Which is funny, because it's one of the shows that I'm having the students in my criticism class write a review for. And since I have the DVD and script on reserve in the BoCo library, it was easy to steer students who were unsure toward that show based on available resources.

And, as regular readers will no doubt recall, I am not a big fan of South Pacific, and have made no secret about it on my blog, so I'm sure I'm directly responsible for its appearance on this list. 

But I claim no responsibility for Bare being on this list, although, frankly, I'm not a fan of the show. I find it maudlin and cloying, and the songs simply don't grab me, despite multiple listenings. The show certainly has its ardent (rabid?) fans, and I've had many people defend it to me over the years, but the way I see it, the show has to make me a fan of itself, rather than relying on some outside PR job.

As for the rest of the list, these are fairly standard choices. I'm not sure how Footloose got past me, though. I usually steer students away from it, on the premise that criticizing Footloose is like shooting fish in a barrel. Is there anyone out there who genuinely thinks Footloose is a good show? Interestingly, one of the best papers I've read in the past few years came from a student who was defending Footloose as part of her "Underrated Musical" assignment. She did a great job of demonstrating some things about the show that are actually pretty good, including the arc for the character of the preacher's wife.

But, ultimately, it's not really about whether these shows are good or bad. The most important part of this assignment is how well they support their choices with cogent arguments and specific examples from the shows. And, as my past students will tell you, that has absolutely nothing to do with whether I happen to agree with their choices. Seriously.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have papers to grade.

The Bestest Musical Ever - Fall 2010

The start of another school year means another crop of freshpersons to induct into the world of musical theater. And the first thing I always do in my History of Musical Theater course is ask the students to write down the three best musicals of all time. The criteria: theirs. We list the results on the board and then start to discuss what these shows might have in common, if anything. The point: to get them to start thinking about what makes a quality musical.

Every semester I make it a point to share the list with my readers. It's hardly a scientific sampling, of course, but it does serve as a nice touch point on what shows are part of the theater queen zeitgeist. (I use the term "theater queen" in an egalitarian sense. It has nothing to do with sexuality: women and straight men can be TQs, as far as I'm concerned.)

Here are the shows that received multiple votes this semester:

8 Les Miserables 
8 West Side Story
7 Wicked
6 A Chorus Line
5 Gypsy
5 Spring Awakening
4 Hair
3 Into the Woods
3 Next to Normal
3 Oklahoma!
3 Rent
3 Sweeney Todd
2 Billy Elliot
2 Cabaret
2 The Color Purple
2 The Lion King
2 The Phantom of the Opera
2 The Wild Party (Lippa)

And here are the shows that received one vote each:

42nd Street, Aida, Anything Goes, Blood Brothers, Cats, Chicago, The Drowsy Chaperone, Fiddler on the Roof, Guys and Dolls, In the Heights, Jersey Boys, La Cage aux Folles, The Light in the Piazza, The Little Mermaid, Mary Poppins, Nine, Parade, Ragtime, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, South Pacific, Sunday in the Park With George, Urinetown

On the whole, a fairly august crop of musicals, no? I feature most of these shows on my list on the 100 Best Musical of All Time. Most of the rest I include on my 100 Next-Best Musicals. What's more, refreshingly few of them show up on my lists of The Musical That Suck or The Most Overrated Musicals. This augurs well for the burgeoning aesthetic of my new troupe of charges.

This is the highest that I recall Wicked ever ranking on this list. Usually the show receives a few votes, but I don't think it has ever received 7. As always, the current list is clearly influenced by recent shows and revivals. Hair wasn't even on the list a few semesters back, so the recent Broadway production and the upcoming national tour have undoubtedly given the show a higher profile. The list also tends to be dependent on the shows that these students have performed in and seen in high school and community productions. This partially explains the high ranking for Les Miz, but it doesn't account for why Guys and Dolls only came up once, considering how frequently it's performed. And how good it is.

Sweeney Todd is also ranked surprisingly low, especially considering we're doing it here at the BoCo this semester. Perhaps folks who weren't cast in the show were reluctant to select it as one of their best?

One final unusual feature of the present list is the absense of oddballs or outliers, except perhaps for Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. In previous semesters, there has usually been the occasional High Spirits or Little Mary Sunshine throwing off the curve. Such abberations are usually dependent on some adventurous director out in the hinterlands who's sick of doing Bye Bye Birdie and Grease and looking for something a little offbeat to break the monotony.

I guess we all need that sometimes.

 

Review - South Pacific on PBS

This past Sunday, the critically acclaimed and (presumably) financially successful revival of Rodgers & Hammerstein's South Pacific closed after 996 performances. That's less than half of the run for the original production, which came in at 1925 performances, but it's certainly a respectable number, especially considering that the revival was originally only supposed to run for a few months.

Just prior to closing, South Pacific aired live on PBS stations under the auspices of Live From Lincoln Center. This gave me a chance to evaluate the production, and the piece itself, afresh. Regular readers will recall that I consider South Pacific the most overrated musical of all time, and that the revival did nothing to change that view. (Read my review.) After watching the PBS broadcast, I still feel that way, but I will admit that I found more to appreciate in the show this time around.

For one, the show was making more dramatic sense this time. I've never quite understood how Nellie can go from singing "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair" to "(I'm in Love With) A Wonderful Guy" in a matter of mere minutes. But this time, mostly through the effectiveness of Kelli O'Hara's nuanced performance as Nellie, the sequence of emotions seemed more plausible.

I've complained before about the lack of extended musical sequences in South Pacific. The show has always felt too choppy, too stop-and-sing, especially coming from the two men who rendered plodding show structure obsolete. "Honey Bun" is simply an embarrassment, not because of the song itself, which is fine for what it is. But it represents one of the only examples I can think of when Hammerstein and Rodgers included a song for a song's sake. It serves no dramatic or thematic purpose: it's just there for entertainment. Again, Rodgers and Hammerstein were the men who obviated that kind of song. (Oh, and that reprise. When the soldiers and the nurses are walking in slow motion singing "Honey Bun." WTF?)

But this time I was captivated by the finale of act 1, which features a smart series of mini-reprises ("Wonderful Guy," "Twin Soliloquies," "Cockeyed Optimist," "Wash That Man," and "Some Enchanted Evening"), which effectively summarizes how we've arrived at this point in the show, and underscores the emotional subtext of the relationship between Nellie and Emile.

The best sequence remains the "Carefully Taught" scene, followed by Emile's moving intermezzo ("I was cheated before, and I'm cheated again, by a mean little world of mean little men..."), which then leads into the stunning "This Nearly Was Mine." This is truly thrilling theater, and for me it hints at what the show could have been. Paulo Szot's delivery here was masterful. I was particularly moved by his pianissimo delivery during the second verse. Szot seems to have gained a considerable (and distracting) amount of weight since the show opened, but the emotional impact of his singing remains undiminished.

But, on the whole, South Pacific remains hampered by labored plot machinations and emotion-sapping exposition. The pathos of the show disappears when the book stops to address the dull, obligatory military storyline. Every time those frickin' maps descended from the fly space, I audibly groaned. When we're watching Nellie and Emile, the show works. When they're not on stage, it falls flat.

When I saw South Pacific live, it was early in previews, and it seemed at that point that Loretta Ables Sayre and Danny Burstein hadn't yet grown into their respective roles as Bloody Mary and Luther Billis. I'm happy to report that both seem to have progressed over the course of the run into far richer and more effective performances. Sayre was a lot more layered and engaging, and Burstein brought a lot more of the wonderful individuality and creativity that he's exhibited in previous roles, particularly that of Adolpho in The Drowsy Chaperone. There were a few times that Burstein's performance seemed a bit too close to a Bert Lahr caricature for my tastes, but those moments were thankfully fleeting.

The major hole in the cast for me was Andrew Samonsky as Lieutenant Cable. I found Matthew Morrison bland and forgettable, but Morrison's performance was masterful compared to that of Samonsky, who came off unbearably smug and mannered beyond reason. His gait seemed borrowed from a bad John Wayne impersonator, and he had this annoying mannerism of sniffing and humming in rapid succession when he was trying to be sardonic. On the whole, Samonsky made me sort of glad that...well, let's just say that I found the denouement of the show ironically satisfying.

I recognize that South Pacific fans are legion and ardent, and I certainly wish them well. But after numerous earnest attempts at connecting with the show, which significantly predate the production at hand, I remain unconverted as to most of its supposed charms.

Who can explain it? Who can tell you why?

CD Preview - Life Begins at 8:40

OK, first let me set the scene here. Picture me, roughly the age of 13, perusing my already voluminous number of cast recordings, poring obsessively through the liner notes. It could have been the original cast recording of Sweeney Todd, Evita, Barnum, A Day in Hollywood/A Night in the Ukraine, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, or perhaps even March of the Falsettos.

Of course, at the time, the recordings would have been in the form of LPs, all in a pile strewn across my bedroom floor. The great thing about LP cast albums was they often had gatefold interiors that opened to reveal adult-size production notes, pictures, essays, and synopses. And I devoured them all with the brio of a star-struck, musical-obsessed little Nancy boy. I can still remember some of the names contained therein: the Martha Swopes, the Thomas Z. Shepherds, the Goddard Liebersons, the Kevin Kellys. Who were these people? How did they come to be involved in this hallowed process? And how could I become one of them?

Cut to 2010. I'm in the midst of correcting final exams, when I get a phone call from Tommy Krasker, executive producer at PS Classics. Now, Tommy and I had been in touch off and on for years. I think he contacted me about a glowing review that I wrote of one of the shows that his label recorded, although I can't recall which show. Possibly Adding Machine, or maybe A Catered Affair. Anyway, I took the opportunity to put a bug in Tommy's ear about giving me the chance to fulfill a life-long dream of writing the liner notes for a cast recording. He was actually very positive about the possibility, but I didn't hear back from him about it, although we did continue to correspond, albeit infrequently.

So, back to the phone call. Tommy said that the person who was supposed to write an essay to accompany the upcoming PS Classics release of the obscure but delightful 1930s revue Life Begins at 8:40 was unable to meet the already-passed deadline, and would I be able to scare something up in impossibly short order?

"Can I roller-skate?!"

As soon as I hung up, I made a beeline for my theater bookcase and amassed a pile of books to begin my research. For the uninitiated, Life Begins at 8:40 was a lavish Broadway revue in the traditional of the Ziegfeld Follies and George White's Scandals. In fact, Life Begins at 8:40 was going to be another in the Ziegfeld series, the famed Shubert Brothers having purchased the rights to the Follies after the great Zeigfeld's death. But legal problems arose, and the show eventually came to be called Life Begins at 8:40. The title is a reference both to the 1932 bestseller Life Begins at 40, and to the typical curtain time for Broadway shows of the era.

The show starred Bert Lahr and Ray Bolger, five years before they would make "The Wizard of Oz" together. In a bit of additional Pre-Oz synergy, both Harold Arlen (composer) and E.Y. Harburg (lyricist) worked on the score. Ira Gershwin also contributed lyrics to the show while his brother George was busy with a little thing called Porgy and Bess. The Broadway production of Life Begins at 8:40 opened at the Winter Garden Theatre in August of 1934 and closed in March of 1935, after a then-respectable run of 237 performances.

The new CD will be the first-ever complete recording of the score from the show, and features a veritable who's who of contemporary Broadway scene, including Kate Baldwin, Christopher Fitzgerald, Montego Glover, Rebecca Luker, Brad Oscar, and Faith Prince. The recording will be released on June 8th, but you can pre-order it on Amazon or CD Universe, or you can wait and download the tracks from Amazon or iTunes. Whatever you do, please don't download the songs from an illegal file-sharing site. The good folks at PS Classics work tremendously hard, and if it weren't for people like Tommy Krasker we wouldn't have a chance to hear previously undiscovered gems like Life Begins at 8:40 and Kitty's Kisses. And if it weren't for Tommy, I might not have had the chance to fulfill a lifelong dream. So, do us all a favor, and pay for your music. In the long run, you'll be glad that you did.