Everything I Know I Learned from Musicals

Mamma Mia!? More Like "Oy Gevalt!"

I was actually kind of looking forward to seeing the movie version of Mamma Mia!, mostly because of the film's terrific cast. I was a bit deflated when the reviews came out last Friday, but nonetheless resolved to see the movie over the weekend, lest the word-of-mouth sway me too far in either direction.

Well, let's just say that the reviews were overly kind, even the scathing ones. This atrocity sets movie musicals back twenty years. Yes, you'd need to go back to John Huston's bloated "Annie," Richard Attenborough's insipid "A Chorus Line," or Colin Higgins' flaccid "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas" to find a movie musical this clumsy, charmless, and just plain painful to sit through.

The worst of the movie's crimes lies in wasting its wonderfully talented cast. Poor Meryl Streep is forced to mug, snort, writhe, and squeal her way through this discomfiting affair. The marvelous Christine Baranski comes off as an awkward mix of Mae West and Frank N. Furter from "The Rocky Horror Picture Show." And the otherwise wonderful Julie Walters gives the most over-the-top and painfully frenetic performance in a movie chockablock with same.

The rest of the cast doesn't fare much better, although the young lovers Amanda Seyfreid and Dominic Cooper come off marginally less embarrassing than their more mature co-stars. To say that Pierce Brosnan can't sing would be an understatement. Not since Audrey Hepburn in "Funny Face," or perhaps Vanessa Redgrave in "Camelot," have we heard warbling this forced and tuneless. Stellan Skarsgard somehow manages to maintain his dignity, despite the humiliating business Lloyd gives him in a misguided effort to add life to his songs. And the less said about the normally reliable Colin Firth the better.

How do you make this slate of pros look lame and amateurish? You hire an inexperienced director and a hack writer. Phyllida Lloyd should never be allowed to make another movie. Her enervating mix of hyper-reality and lame musical comedy drains what was an amusing trifle of a stage show of whatever charm to which it might once have laid claim. Her tyro director status makes itself readily apparent in myriad ways, including her use of hackneyed camera tricks. (Example: When the Meryl Streep character first sees her three former suitors, Lloyd has the camera zoom quickly in on each of the men's faces. What is this, "Looney Tunes"? I'm surprised she didn't ask the sound guy to throw a "SPROING!" effect into the soundtrack.) 

Screenwriter Catherine Johnson also wrote the book for the stage version of Mamma Mia! To begin with, the plot is stolen from Alan Jay Lerner's little-known musical Carmelina. (Admittedly, Lerner himself stole the story from the movie "Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell", although he denied it to his dying day.) But more important, there's no credible drama, no believable emotion, and no genuine wit to be had anywhere in the script. But somehow the show works, whereas the movie holds an unflattering light up to the holes in the plot, the dearth of humor, and the lack of character development. And Anthony van Laast's choreography, which on stage was passable, here looks like something out of a local PTA talent show.

Normally, I'll buy the DVD to pretty much any movie musical, if only to help prove that there's a market for this stuff. However, I would sooner endure a colonoscopy and a root canal simultaneously than suffer through the pain of Mamma Mia! ever again.

Wall-E: Or How Showtunes Could Save the World

I really don't go to the movies that often, but I do try to see every Pixar feature. Their animation and storytelling are head and shoulders above those of the competition. So I was planning on seeing "WALL-E" anyway, especially after it received such rapturous reviews.

But, then I was in the Drama Book Shop on 40th Street, one of my few remaining theater haunts, now that Footlight Records closed its retail store, and Triton Gallery moved to God knows where. I overheard the Drama Book Shop staff discussing "WALL-E," and how Hello, Dolly! somehow played a key role in the plot. I left almost immediately, lest I overhear any further spoilers. But I left intrigued, and decided to get going a bit early yesterday and catch an early show of "WALL-E" before I saw Passing Strange in the afternoon and then Bash'd in the evening.

Well, I was thoroughly enchanted, as I have been for nearly every Pixar feature. ("Cars" didn't really do it for me, but I adore "Finding Nemo," "The Incredibles," "Monsters Inc.," etc.) I had heard that there was very little dialog in the first half of "WALL-E," and that once the talking starts, some of the magic disappears. I disagree: I was charmed from start to finish.

Pixar movies have something that no other animation studio has been able to replicate: a heart. Not a schmaltzy sense of sentimentality, but a genuine, honest heart. Of course, the real fun for me came from WALL-E's obsession with the "Hello, Dolly!" movie. He's particularly enamored with "Put on Your Sunday Clothes" and "It Only Takes a Moment," and the latter becomes especially important to the movie's dénouement.

In "WALL-E," the world has been overrun with garbage, and the entire population of earth takes off in spaceships to wait for the world to become inhabitable again. Now, it's not as though showtunes are the mechanism by which the world starts to heal, but they certainly serve a very important role. It appears that there's a big old queen working at Pixar, and he's working a little Disney magic to subliminally suggest to kids that showtunes are crucial to human survival.

Now that's some propaganda I can live with.

Sweeney Todd: A Masterwork on Stage and Screen

I'm going to cut right to the chase: Tim Burton's "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" is a thrilling piece of cinema, nothing less than a masterwork. Who else but Tim Burton could have truly done justice to Stephen Sondheim's masterpiece?

The success of the film hinges on its two central performances: Johnny Depp as Sweeney and Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Lovett. In the vocal department, well, they're no great shakes, although Depp comes off slightly better. Depp possesses a soulful wail, Bonham Carter a wistful, slightly off-pitch penny whistle. But somehow, the vocal limitations become secondary to the two laser-sharp performances. As I've said before, Depp and Bonham Carter are two of the finest actors of my generation, and in every scene they demonstrate mastery of their craft.

The rest of the cast is uniformly excellent. Alan Rickman is remarkable, as always, and brings a suitably menacing and credibly creepy quality to his portrayal of Judge Turpin. Timothy Spall is likewise superb as the deliciously slimy Beadle Bamford, and showcases his trademark nuance and depth in what could have been a cardboard role.

But Tim Burton is certainly one of the stars of this movie, particularly via his signature visual style: there's a soot-covered, gaunt, fetid feel to the entire movie. Compelling, too, are Burton's dynamic and illuminating camera angles. The camera never seems to sit still, just as Sweeney's vengeful mind is never idle for a moment. Burton does a masterful job building tension throughout the movie, particularly impressive to me in that I've seen the show MANY times in various forms (the original Broadway production, the concert version, the Broadway revival, the national tour of same, etc.)

Burton achieves a good deal of this tension by making significant cuts in the score, both in terms of entire numbers excised ("Ah, Miss," "City on Fire," "Parlor Songs," etc.) and shortened versions of remaining numbers. Sondheim purists will no doubt balk, but I'm convinced that the shorter form actually made the piece more effective, more compelling, and ultimately more terrifying. The various versions of "Attend the Tale of Sweeney Todd" have been cut, but this is understandable, given the inherent, Brechtian theatricality of those songs. Burton maintains the melody as underscoring, a recurring leitmotif that accents a ruminating Sweeney. The slightly trimmed "A Little Priest" as Todd and Lovett stare out the shop window and "select" their pie flavors from the "menu" of passersby is a monstrous joy, and one of the few light moments in an otherwise grim succession.

Because, make no mistake: this is a gruesome, graphic, gut-wrenching movie. Burton doesn't shy away from showing in full color (well, red, for the most part) the true extent of Todd's and Lovett's horrific crimes. From the very first murder, Burton makes it clear that this won't be stylized violence, but rather full-on gore.

Burton's concept for casting seems to have been to skew the entire cast younger than those that we've witnessed in the various stage versions. Apparently he wanted most of the cast to seem younger than Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, both of whom are in their early forties, but could certainly pass for younger. Jamie Campbell Bower as Anthony is a little slip of a girlie boy, aged 19. Ed Sanders as Toby can't be more than eleven or twelve. Both actors took a bit of getting used to, but eventually they won me over. There's really not a single weak performance in the movie. Sacha Baron Cohen (yes, THAT Sacha Baron Cohen: Ali G and Borat) didn't impress me as Pirelli at first, but when he comes to blackmail Todd and gets his comeuppance, he redeemed himself quite nicely.

[SPOILER ALERT: STOP READING HERE IF YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THE SHOW AND DON'T WANT TO SPOIL THE ENDING.]

Burton employs two significant flashbacks, one to show Benjamin Barker being stolen away from his wife and child, and one to show Lucy being tricked and raped by the judge. The first is a bit twee and unnecessary, but the second really helps establish the menace of the judge character. Another problem with the flashback is that we get a strong sense of what Lucy looks like, which makes things a bit harder on Burton when he has to introduce the beggar woman without revealing her identity. Minor quibbles, to be sure.

The entire movie builds to a shattering climax, made all the more visceral by Burton's graphic approach. Mrs. Lovett's death is especially horrifying: Burton shows the character catching on fire and languishing in the flames as Todd stares maniacally on. Burton also employs some heart-breaking touches as Todd discovers what he's done to his beloved Lucy. One significant change Burton makes from the stage version is that the Toby character witnesses all of the hideous events from a sewer grate, and rather than going insane, he emerges angry and seeking vengeance.

The result of all of Burton's efforts is quite simply the best movie musical in decades, an absolute tour-de-force. Go see this movie. Multiple times. I just might see you there.

Disney's Enchanted is...well...Enchanting

I absolutely adore my eight-year-old niece Alyssa, but I don't always adore the movies we see together. Lately my brother and I have fallen into a pattern when we take his kids to the movies: he goes to some shoot-em-up or chop-socky flick with his 15-year-old son Nicholas, and I take Alyssa to something a tad more appropriate to her age and girly sensibility. Fortunately, my sensibilities are decidedly girly as well, but I have been forced to see some pretty dreadful stuff, such as the recent "Underdog" movie. Sheesh.

Well, this weekend, while Mark and Nick took in "Beowulf," Alyssa and I went to see "Enchanted." I was actually looking forward to this movie, given its multifarious Broadway pedigree, and I'm glad to say that it did not disappoint. The songs are by Stephen Schwartz (lyrics) and Alan Menken (music), a formidable pair indeed, and they do a bang-up job of sending up archetypal Disney ditties, particularly with "True Love's Kiss" and "Happy Working Song." The big supposed show-stopper, "That's How You Know," is a bit more lackluster, but it certainly serves its purpose. 

Beyond the Schwartz/Menken connection, the movie also employs a healthy complement of veterans from the New York stage, and it was lots of fun trying to pick them all out, including Tony-winner Idina Menzel (as Patrick Dempsey's girlfriend), Tony-winner Tonya Pinkins (Dempsey's divorce client), Edmund Lyndeck (derelict old man), Brian D'Arcy James (voice on soundtrack), Gregory Jbara (voice on soundtrack), and Daniel Mastrogiorgio (ensemble).

As a charming bonus, the movie also employs a number of Broadway performers who have previously served as the voices of various Disney heroines. Jodi Benson, who plays Dempsey's assistant, was the voice of Ariel in "The Little Mermaid."
Judy Kuhn, who has a very brief bit as a pregnant woman with a bunch of kids, was the singing voice of "Pocahontas." And Paige O'Hara, whom I didn't quite catch in the movie, but who is nonetheless listed in the credits, was the voice of Belle in "Beauty and the Beast."

The movie itself is quite good, and would still be so even without the theater-queen-recognition factor. It's a clever and engaging mix of animation and live-action, and it gently and lovingly skewers many of the conventions and clichés that Disney invented in the first place. "Enchanted" is a terrific holiday treat for the kids in your life, be they female or male, but it's also great for tapping into that eight-year-old girl within.

I know I have one. Isn't it time you embraced yours?

Hairspray Movie: Moderately Enjoyable

As I've stated or implied many times in previous posts, I'm thrilled that the movie-musical genre has made a comeback. Film musicals pretty much disappeared during the 80s and 90s, except for the occasional painful misstep like A Chorus Line or Newsies.

Now movie musicals are back with a vengeance. The problem is, there's no one left alive who really knows how to execute one well. Take, for instance, Hairspray. Director/choreographer Adam Shankman does a terrific job with the latter, but an awkward and unconvincing job on the former.

But Shankman isn't alone in his relative ineptitude. Bill Condon didn't fair much better with Dreamgirls, although it was certainly a valiant attempt. Rob Marshall did an OK job with Chicago, although it would have been great to see what Bob Fosse could have done with it. Susan Stroman certainly made a mess of The Producers. And the less said about Chris Columbus and Rent, the better. (Apparently I'm not the only one who feels this way: Columbus hasn't directed a film since.)

For me, nothing will ever replace John Waters' original "Hairspray" movie, but I certainly found the stage version of Hairspray entertaining. The score by Marc Shamain and Scott Wittman is fun and upbeat, although it certainly has its share of clunkers ("It Takes Two," "Cooties," "Miss Baltimore Crabs," "Without Love"). Overall, the show made me realize what a great show The Producers is. I had been mildly underwhelmed when I saw The Producers in previews, and was truly astonished when the show received such a rhapsodic reception. But seeing Hairspray made me realize how truly well crafted The Producers really is.

Anyway, back to the movie version of Hairspray. The real story here is the cast, and I have to say that based on the previews, I wasn't looking forward to seeing John Travolta as Edna Turnblad. But he grew on me. A little. Once I got past the fact that he shouldn't have been playing the part -- at all -- I sort of settled in and went with the flow. Not for a second did I ever believe he was anyone else but John Travolta, but I was eventually able to move on and consider the rest of the cast in turn.

Michelle Pfeiffer as Velma von Tussle sharp and funny. She's really held up well over the years, and it's nice to see her in a part that's worthy of her considerable talents. (As opposed to, say, Grease 2. Yeesh.) Christopher Walken as Wilbur Turnblad was an old pro, revealing his stage training and musical-comedy background.  I was pleased to see that Queen Latifah as Motormouth Maybelle was much better than she was in Chicago. I didn't believe her for a second as Mama Morton, but she wasn't nearly as wooden as Motormouth, and actually seemed to be having a good time.

Nikki Blonski as Tracy Turnblad was downright adorable and very appealing. James Marsden as Corny Collins was one of the best things in the entire movie. He was a very natural screen presence, a great voice, and he's a terrific dancer, too. He was one of the few people on screen who really seemed to get what the movie was about. One major discovery for me was Elijah Kelly as Seaweed, another natural. Kelley has this amazing energy, despite some awkward camera angles during his big number, "Run and Tell That."

Three members of the cast stood out for me as being sorely miscast. The least egregious was Brittany Snow as Amber, who was fine but unremarkable. Amanda Bynes was practically nonexistent as Penny Pingleton. She had no presence, no sparkle, no nothing. Plus she's an awkward dancer. It's a shame, because Penny could have been a real stand-out role, as the wonderful Kerry Butler made it on Broadway.
Another disappointment was Zac Efron as Link Larken. Efron lacks the requisite charisma for Link, although it really seemed he was working hard at it, which of course is exactly how to make sure it won't happen. He wasn't arresting, he was just blandly cute. No wonder he's a Disney favorite.

Special shout out to my former student Hayley Podschun on her film debut as Tammy. Sweetheart, you were sensational! I couldn't take my eyes off you, and not just because I was looking for you in every number. You're off to a terrific start, and I wish you nothing but the best.