Everything I Know I Learned from Musicals

Will [title of show] Return?

As some of you know, in addition to blogging about musical theater and teaching it at the Boston Conservatory, I'm also a freelance writer and editor. Recently, I received my first assignment from The Advocate, the national news magazine for the LGBT community. The assignment was to find and profile gays and lesbians who had been significantly affected by the recent economic downturn.

As I was thinking about whom I could profile, I had a sudden inspiration. What about the [title of show] guys? Although there are various opinions on why the show [sniff sniff] closed, there seems little question that the struggling economy had something to do with it. So I gave Hunter Bell a shout, and he graciously agreed to participate in the article.

Alas, as I know all too well from my many years of journalism, all the stuff you hope to include in an article doesn't always make it into print. Although I was assigned to write three profiles, I actually wrote five, and The Advocate wound up using four of them. (The article posted to The Advocate's Web site today, and and hits the newsstands November 18th.) Hunter unfortunately got cut, not because the story wasn't compelling, but rather because we were going for a diverse mix of people, and we already had a story from someone in New York.

So, the folks at The Advocate have graciously allowed me to run Hunter's profile here on my blog. And here it is:

Recessionary Tremors: Hunter Bell

Hunter Bell is convinced that, were it not for the economic downturn, his show would still be on Broadway. And he means to bring it back 

On October 12th, 2008, Hunter Bell was starring in his own Broadway musical. On October 17th, he filed for unemployment.

Before it opened on Broadway in August, the musical [title of show] was a bit of an Off-Broadway phenomenon. The show’s plot relates how Bell and his writing partner Jeff Bowen, two self-proclaimed “nobodies in New York,” put together the plucky little musical. The pair helped fan the flames of fandom by producing a series of online video episodes, which helped the show develop a vociferous cult following, and eventually led to the Broadway run.

Unfortunately, the show only ran about three months, limping along at about 30% capacity at Broadway’s historic Lyceum Theater. Catty insiders blamed the show’s demise on its insular focus: much of the show’s considerable humor derives from its barrage of obscure theater-related references. But [title of show] librettist Hunter Bell thinks the show could have crossed over to attract a more mainstream audience, had it not been for the current economic uncertainty.

“We knew it was going to be a struggle,” says Bell. “We had an original story at a time when most Broadway musicals are based on established brands, like Shrek or 9 to 5. And when you introduce something new, it takes time for it to catch on.”

Bell says the show’s success was hampered by an economic double whammy. First, audiences currently have less expendable income, and are thus less likely to take a chance on an unknown show. “And I understand that totally,” he says “People are being a lot more careful with their money, and maybe see theater as a luxury.”

Second, investors have less available capital to keep the show open long enough to build awareness as well as a healthy advance ticket sale. “We had some really smart, awesome producers,” says Bell. “But it takes a lot of money to keep a show running.” And the folks who have that kind of money tend to be disproportionately sensitive to Wall Street fluctuations. “It’s not that people don’t believe in you,” says Bell. “It’s just that these are tricky times.”

For Bell personally, the show’s fortunes, or lack thereof, have presented an economic challenge. “I tried to put a little away from the run,” he says. “But a lot of that money we used to pay off the debts that we had created over the past four years trying to put the show together.” So for Bell and Bowen, it’s back to temping and the occasional catering job. “We’ll have to take odd jobs here and there,” says Bell, “But we’re really hoping that doing the show will open doors for us creatively. The hope is that we can eventually make a living as working artists.”

As for future earnings prospects, Bell says he and Bowen are working with the Rodgers and Hammerstein organization on licensing the show for regional and amateur productions. “And that will be a great for generating income in the future,” he says. Bell and Bowen are working on different versions of the show, depending on whether theater groups want to personalize the show. “The idea is to have the original version if you want to play Hunter and Jeff, but we’re also working on a sort of Mad Lib version, kind of a [title of show] template where you can fill in the blanks and make it your own,” he says. “I think we can find a way to do that and not compromise the show, to keep its integrity but still let people make it their own.”

But the show’s licensing future depends on what’s next for [title of show] in what Bell calls the “first-class arena.” Bell says that he and his show partners are actually planning to bring [title of show] back to Broadway once the economic turmoil abates. “Our true goal is to be back in the spring around awards season,” he says. “People are more focused on the theater then, and we want to be a part of that conversation.”

There’s not a question in Bell’s mind that he and his beloved show are the victims of circumstances beyond their control. “Had there not been an economic scare,” he says, “I believe that [title of show] would still be around, able to weather the storm.” – Christopher Caggiano

Hair to Play the Hirschfeld

The producers of the upcoming Broadway revival of Hair didn't waste any time snatching up the highly desirable Al Hirschfeld. The theater's current tenant, the execrable A Tale of Two Cities, recently announced that it would be closing November 16th, making room for a far, far better production.

Diane Paulus's dynamic staging of the Public Theater's hit summer production will begin previews in February toward a March opening. Paulus will presumably take some time off from her new role as artistic director of Boston's own...er..Cambridge's own American Repertory Theater. (They're very touchy about that sort of thing, those Cantabrigians.)

As I said in my review of the Central Park run, this production forced me to reevaluate the place of Hair in the musical theater canon. Previously, I dismissed it as a novelty hit, a product of a specific time and place, but now I've come to see the show as having a more universal message. Of course, Central Park is really the ideal place for the show, for a variety of reasons, both thematic and conceptual. But that's obviously not a tenable long-term option, particularly in the coming winter months.

No word yet on casting, but it would be great to see Jonathan Groff and Will Swenson reprise their central roles as Claude and Berger, respectively. Both were simply sensational. There were many talented people in the cast, but Groff and Swenson were real standouts. (Did anyone out there see Groff's replacement, Christopher Hanke, as Claude?)

Some have questioned whether people will be willing to pay for something they could have seen free of charge over the summer. I find that attitude a bit parochial. Some of us don't live in New York City, folks, and the prospect of making a special trip just to wait in line for hours and then maybe not even get a ticket made seeing this show in the Park rather unattractive to many out-of-towners. The real question is whether the frenzy to see the show will hold over from many months before, especially now that the economy has since cooled quite considerably.

All I know is I greatly look forward to seeing Hair again, partly to see how they've made the out-to-indoor transition, but also to re-experience the sheer power of the show and the talent of the people involved.

Romantic Poetry: Quirky and Promising

I've been hearing some dismissive chatter about this one on my blog and elsewhere, but I genuinely enjoyed the new Off-Broadway musical Romantic Poetry, which opened last night at the Manhattan Theater Club's Stage 1 at the New York City Center. It's certainly not an immediately accessible musical, and probably not much of a crowd-pleaser, but the new tuner is nonetheless ambitious and intermittently successful.

Playwright John Patrick Shanley makes a stylized entry into musical theater with this show. Its arch, heightened style reminds me of the work of William Finn and James Lapine in its denial of conventional storytelling. Shanley also seems to bring out the arty side of composer Henry Krieger, who frankly has never been better: his score here is less showy, less derivative than the ones he composed for Side Show and The Tap Dance Kid, and significantly more musically ambitious than his work on Dreamgirls. It just goes to show how a talented collaborator can bring out the best in a composer. (It makes me wonder what would happen if Andrew Lloyd Webber ever found another lyricist half as good as Tim Rice. Ditto Frank Wildhorn.)

The story of Romantic Poetry involves two central couples and two additional ex-husbands. It would be a shame to ruin the show by going into more detail, but suffice it to say that while Romantic Poetry is short on actual plot, it's heavy on exaggerated characterization, which is mostly successful thanks to a universally strong cast. Ivan Hernandez and Emily Swallow are very appealing as the central couple, and Mark Linn-Baker is funny and affecting as ex-husband number two. Jeb Brown as ex-husband number one makes a strong first impression, but later fades into generic character acting, but that's probably more a function of Shanley's writing, which sort of leaves Brown with nothing interesting or useful to do in the latter part of the show.

The basic themes of the show are pretty cliché: not settling for a safe, mundane life, but rather sticking with the beauty/art that your soul longs to create. Yeah, on paper, it's a cringe-inducing bore, but Shanley almost makes it work through stylized dialog and arch direction. Think a sort of post-modern Guys and Dolls, a "Moonstruck" with music. For a musical-theater neophyte, Shanley creates some very effective lyrics, although his rhyme schemes are often primitive, his prosody isn't always perfect, and he throws in some extra graces notes here and there to accommodate an extra word or two. But on the whole, the score works.

In Act 2, the edges begin to fray considerably. The theme of comfort versus passion becomes more strident, and the treatment more clumsy. I found my attention waning during a succession of seemingly obligatory genre numbers (the torch song, the gospel number, etc.). The songs become less interesting dramatically, although with regularity Shanley and Krieger return to form with a quirky character number.

Overall, Romantic Poetry is a show with great, great promise, despite your typical and ultimately fixable second-act trouble. The show plays until  December 28th, and I say, give it a chance. It's likely going to be a very divisive show among theater types, and it's cranky and dyspeptic at times. But the creators take some admirable chances, and more often than not, they hit the mark. That's more than I can say for the creators of most of the Off-Broadway musicals I've seen over the last few years.

What's That Smell Gets Commercial Run

According to Playbill.com, the recent musical What's That Smell: The Music of Jacob Sterling will be making the transfer to a commercial Off-Broadway run later this fall. The show recently played an extended, sold-out engagement at the Atlantic Theater Company's diminutive Stage 2. Now the show will transfer to an open-ended run uptown at the New World Stages, beginning in early November.

It's interesting that the producers have chosen an Off-Broadway berth, bucking the trend of bringing small-scale shows to Broadway houses. No doubt the recent spate of closures, coupled with the current scary economic situation, contributed to this decision. But this is also one of those shows that really belongs in a more intimate house.

Perhaps we'll be starting to see more shows opt for the relative economy of an Off-Broadway house: lower costs and cheaper tickets could be the key to achieving some semblance of profitability. Maybe if the [title of show] folk hadn't been so hell-bent on Broadway, they might have taken this route, and seen a bit more success.

Anyway, as I said in my review of What's That Smell?, I found the show to be very amusing, if a bit repetitive. The main reasons to see the show were the two central performances: the phenomenal David Pittu as the eponymous Jacob Sterling, and the delightful Peter Bartlett as the chatty chat-show host. No word yet on casting, but I simply can't imagine the show without Pittu, or at least another actor of his stature (if such a creature exists).

What's That Smell? Two Great Actors at Their Best

Over the past weekend, in addition to seeing Enter Laughing (see my review below), I also took in 13 and What's That Smell: The Music of Jacob Sterling. Look for my review of 13 later in the week.

What's That Smell, which recently extended its run through October 5th, is a self-described satire charting "the career of eternally up-and-coming (and fictitious) musical-theater composer Jacob Sterling." The show is the brainchild of David Pittu, an intense and disciplined performer who was one of the best things about Lovemusik, despite Hal Prince's AWOL direction and Patricia Birch's awkward choreography.

As for What's That Smell, which is co-directed by Pittu and Neil Pepe, artistic director of the Atlantic Theater Company, here we have yet another show focused on celebrating musical-theater minutia and making gentle fun of the form. It's not quite as insider-y as [title of show], nor as consistently funny as The Drowsy Chaperone, nor as sharply satirical as Urinetown. But WTS nonetheless makes for an engaging evening, the main attractions of which are two razor-sharp characterizations by actors at the top of their form. The Atlantic's intimate Stage 2 on 16th Street is the perfect place to experience these talented actors.

Pittu is a wonder to watch, bringing an almost demonic intensity to his portrayal of the self-absorbed and utterly clueless Sterling. Matching Pittu in crafting a remarkably comprehensive characterization is Peter Bartlett as the host of a musical-theater chat show that provides a framing device for showcasing Sterling's hapless body of work. The veteran Bartlett only recently came to my attention as a replacement cast member in The Drowsy Chaperone, in which he was disappointingly indistinct as Underling. Bartlett also appeared in the short-lived reworking of The Frogs, which I didn't get to see, but Bartlett is a remarkable presence on the cast recording as Pluto.

As for What's That Smell as a show, well, it's admittedly hard to sustain deliberately bad writing, so it's probably a good thing that the show is only 75 minutes long. WTS draws a few too many of its considerable laughs from the same wells. Running gags include unlikely sources for musical ideas ("Private Benjamin," "La Femme Nikita," etc.) and a succession of risible acronyms (e.g. CLOT = Composers and Lyricists of Tomorrow).

The show also tosses barbs at stunt casting, the commercialization of Broadway theater, and consumerism in general. In the show, the Jacob Sterling character is working on a show called Shopping Out Loud, in which individual store chains underwrite their sections of the show, providing audience members with a store discount when they present their ticket stubs. Pittu also throws in an attempt at making fun of people who use 9/11 to inject ready-made pathos into their art. The overall effect is fun but unremarkable, an amusing trifle that showcases two terrific performers.

Enter Laughing: The "New" Musical

As part of its current mainstage season, the venerable York Theatre Company is presenting the musical Enter Laughing. The York typically reserves its mainstage slots for new works, and although the show's title may be new, the show itself is not.

Enter Laughing is actually a reworked version of So Long, 174th Street, a 1976 flop starring Robert Morse and George S. Irving (and a young Rita Rudner in the chorus), based on comedian Carl Reiner's early life and career. The York presented Enter Laughing last year as part of its Musicals in Mufti series ("mufti" being an Arabic word for "dressed in street clothes"), and the response was apparently so enthusiastic that the folks at the York decided to give the show a fully produced mainstage run. 

I wish I could say that the York had rediscovered an under-appreciated gem, but alas I can not. Enter Laughing seems destined to remain a curious musical-theater footnote. In the program notes, the York would have you think that the reason the show didn't succeed was that Robert Morse was too old at the time for such a juvenile role, so the creators set the whole show as a flashback, with the forty-ish Morse playing himself at both ages. Well, the present production of the show removes that admittedly awkward conceit, but what remains isn't exactly great musical theater.

The show's plot involves a stage-struck and female-obsessed young man during the 1930s (the fictionalized Carl Reiner). The show is not without its charms, and features some moderately amusing set pieces, including the hysterical recreation of Reiner's first experience on stage. But the style of the show was thirty years out of date back in the '70s. I'm not saying that the idea is old-hat, although it's not very inspired. The show is old-fashioned not so much in conception as in execution. Joseph Stein's amusing-but-creaky book often does little to integrate Stan Daniels' somewhat tuneful score. The show is very stop-and-sing, with songs that seem to come out of nowhere, a practice that was outdated in the 1940s.

The show's main attraction is its stellar cast. What an unmitigated treat it is to see on stage a spry George S. Irving (who made his Broadway debut in the original frickin' cast of frickin' Oklahoma), recreating his role from the 1976 production. His sharp rendition of the salacious "Butler's Song" is reason enough to see the show. It was also great fun to see husband-and-wife team Michael Tucker and Jill Eikenberry share the stage. I've been a fan of these two talented actors since "L.A. Law," and although Tucker doesn't have much to do in the present show, Eikenberry puts a terrific spin on the stock Jewish mother character.

Janine LaManna gives a delightful turn as the man-hungry Angela, delivering "The Man I Can Love" with more hysterical, borderline psychosis that the song really deserves. It's nice to see LaManna back in form after her disappointing stint as Janet van de Graaf in The Drowsy Chaperone. But the real find here is Josh Grisetti in the lead role. Grisetti is a young actor with a very natural presence, a clarion-clear singing voice, and a natural gift for comedy. If there's any justice in show business, this kid is going places. Let's hope that he finds a vehicle soon that is more worthy of his multifarious talents.

UPDATE: The York Theatre has announced a two-week extension for Enter Laughing. The show is now scheduled to play through October 12th. It's worth a look, particularly for the terrific cast.

Fela Extends Two Weeks

The new Off Broadway musical Fela, which opened last week at the 37 Arts theater complex, has extended its run by two weeks, and will now play through October 4th.

According to Michael Riedel of the New York Post, that may not be the last we see of the show. Riedel says that numerous producers have been exploring the possibility of moving the show to a Broadway house, possibly Studio 54 under the auspices of the Roundabout Theater, or the Circle in the Square, which was supposed to have been the home of the recently postponed (canceled?) revival of for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf.

I've been reading the reviews for Fela, and many of them are consonant with my take on the show: the songs are great, the dance is amazing, and the cast is energetic. But the monologue format of the book, combined with the drama-sapping technique of using supertitles, robs the show of much of the potential power in the story of Fela Anikulapo Kuti.

If the show does make the move to Broadway, I'll be interested to see what changes, if any, director/choreographer/librettist Bill T. Jones and co-librettist Jim Lewis make to the show. A number of recent Off-Broadway-to-Broadway transfers have seen major changes en route, including Grey Gardens, In the Heights, and Spring Awakening, for which Jones provided the Tony-winning choreography. But, short of a complete rewrite, I can't see much that they could do that would change my view of the show.

Hair Will Arrive on Broadway in 2009

The electrifying Public Theater production of Hair, which received three extensions at the Delacorte in Central Park, will apparently transfer to Broadway in 2009. No casting has been announced, but I would assume that they'll try to keep as much of the current cast as possible, including the dynamic Will Swenson as Berger. Tony nominee Jonathan Groff may also return as Claude, after completing filming for the new Ang Lee film, "Taking Woodstock." Also no word yet on the preview and opening dates, nor on which theater the show will play.

As I said in my review, this production of Hair forced me to rethink the place of the show in the musical theater canon. The show doesn't read well on paper, but somehow the magic of theater, combined with director Diane Paulus's vivacious production, transform the fragmented bones of the piece into a fully fleshed wonder. Not just a product of its time and place, Hair has a message that speaks to our time, indeed to any time. (Paulus was recently picked as the new artistic director of the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge. I may actually have to start seeing shows at the ART. I've always found the their choice of shows rather dull, although I have been impressed when I actually attended something there.)

Hair plays in Central Park until September 14th. Beg, borrow, or steal a ticket, if you can. I HATE to be one of those people ("Oh, it was soooooo much better in London...," "You mean you didn't get a chance to see the private workshop? Oh, you poor dear..."), but I can't imagine that Hair could be any better than it was at the Delacorte. Central Park makes a perfect setting for the show, lending itself nicely to numerous sharp directorial touches. I'm sure the show will play well in a proscenium theater, but something inevitably will be lost in the process. Of course, I hope to see it again on Broadway, if only to see how they've made the transfer successful.

Fela: Fervent But Flawed

One of the things we learned from the recently closed but admirable Passing Strange is that sometimes, when neophytes make forays into musical theater, they can bring fresh insights and innovations to the form.

Other times, we get Fela, a well meaning but tragically flawed new musical that opens September 4th at the 37 Arts theater complex in New York, and plays through September 21st. Fela proposes to tell the story of Nigerian recording artist and activist Fela Anikulapo Kuti. Fela's life and his music reveled in both the celebratory and the revolutionary. Would that the show that director/choreographer/conceiver/librettist Bill T. Jones (Spring Awakening) and co-librettist Jim Lewis have put together were worthy of Fela's passionate life and exuberant music.

Chief among the show's failings is primitive storytelling. The Fela character, played here by the formidable Sahr Ngaujah, relates the plot entirely through narration. Despite a talented cast of 18, no one else speaks a single word, that I can recall, at least not as part of the script. Jones and Lewis fill in plot holes with projected supertitles, another atavistic technique, useful for illuminating song lyrics, but rather inert when it comes to relating key plot points. The staff also print a Fela glossary in the program, always a sign of indolent storytelling, reminiscent of the plot synopsis in the Playbill of Les Misérables.

Bill T. Jones's choreography is by turns joyous and angry, replete with signature Jones touches as well as idiomatic African movement. He really knows how to dress a stage and explore the limits of the human body. What he doesn't seem to know how to do is tell a coherent story, at least as evidenced here in Fela. Perhaps Jones is too firmly rooted in the often fragmented, non-linear storytelling of modern dance. It's also telling that book writer Lewis's only two Broadway productions thus far (Dangerous Games, Chronicle of a Death Foretold) were short-lived dance pieces, both crafted with director/choreographer Graciela Daniele. 

The first act of Fela, while unfocused, has a certain ebullient charm, but the second half grows repetitive and tedious. It also features one of the least entertaining, and most irritating, musical sequences I've ever endured in the theater. Fela attempts to communicate with his deceased mother, and the vexing result is a melange of abstruse stage business and blisteringly loud music. It was the worst thing I've seen onstage since the voodoo exorcism in Roza (after which I wanted to hunt down director Hal Prince, who was undoubtedly in the preview audience at what was then the Royale Theater, and do him physical harm). Any residual sympathy I might have had for Fela (the production, not the man) drained away during that unbearable sequence.

Whatever brilliance Fela might contain lies in Jones's fervid choreography, Fela's fiery music, and the show's cast of vibrant performers. What it lacks is coherent storytelling and sharp direction. The life of Fela Anikulapo Kuti was full of dramatic incident, modern resonance, and historical importance. It's unfortunate that Jones and Lewis weren't able to successfully render those elements onstage.

[UPDATE: According to Michael Riedel of the New York Post, Fela has a capitalization of about $1 million, which it hasn't a chance of recouping at the 37 Arts, but producer Stephen Handel is hoping for a significant afterlife for the show. There has been talk of moving Fela to a Broadway house, possibly Studio 54 under the auspices of the Roundabout Theater, or the Circle in the Square. If the show moves, I'll probably see it again, just to see what changes they've made. But I don't have very high hopes. Then again, I didn't much like In the Heights when I saw it at the 37 Arts, only to be pleasantly surprised at the show's progress upon moving to Broadway. So anything's possible.]

Cast Set for Romantic Poetry

Although the upcoming Broadway season has its share of interesting musicals, some of the most intriguing new works this year will be opening Off Broadway. Of course, there's the "new" Sondheim work, Road Show, at the Public Theater. And in the spring, the Lincoln Center Theater will present Happiness, which will team up Grey Gardens pair Scott Frankel (music) and Michael Korie (lyrics) with Contact creators Susan Stroman (direction/choreography) and John Weidman (book). 

I'm certainly looking forward to both of those shows, but I'm actually most intrigued by Romantic Poetry, the upcoming musical by John Patrick Shanley (book, lyrics, and direction) and Henry Krieger (music). Shanley is better known to the world as the Academy-Award-winning screenwriter of "Moonstruck"and the Pulitzer-Prize- and Tony-Award-winning playwright of Doubt. And Krieger is the man who gave us Dreamgirls (yay!) and Side Show (boo!).

The Manhattan Theater Club recently announced the cast for Romantic Poetry, which will feature Ivan Hernandez (The Fantasticks), Mark Linn-Baker (A Year With Frog and Toad), Jeb Brown (Ring of Fire), Jerry Dixon (Once on This Island), and Emily Swallow (High Fidelity). MTC lists the following synopsis for the show: "Connie of Woodmere has just married Fred of Newark, but her exes are back in the picture and not sure they approve of the union. Mary of Greenpoint climbs Frankie of Little Italy's fire escape with amorous erotic intent, but things go awry. They are all mad and they are all sane and they are all creating Romantic Poetry." Sounds a bit "Moonstruck" to me, but that's certainly not a bad thing.

So the show seems to have quite a bit going for it, plus it's an original musical, which sets it apart as wheat in a field of derivative chaff. This is going to sound a bit hypocritical of me, but wouldn't it be great if Shanley were to turn "Moonstruck" into a musical? I mean, if we're going to have musicalized movies, why not start with the best? And let's get "Tootsie" on the boards, too, while we're at it. Those are two movies that I'd pay to see on the Broadway stage.

Anyway, Romantic Poetry begins previews September 30th at City Center Stage 1, towards an October 28th opening, and is currently scheduled to run until December 14th. I'm planning to see the show sometime in October. (I just joined the MTC, and I'm waiting for my confirmed dates for Romantic Poetry and for To Be or Not to Be.) I'm hoping to report back that Shanley has successfully crossed media and crafted a show worthy of his impressive pedigree.

What's That Smell? The Music of Jacob Sterling

Uncertainties about the upcoming Broadway season continue to emerge. Are Brigadoon and Nice Work If You Can Get It merely delayed, or are they dead in the water? Will for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf be able to replace a departed key investor? Has Godspell really been canceled? (Michael Riedel seems to think so, but so far no other media outlet has confirmed this. I just got my Godspell ticket in the mail, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.)

Until the dust settles, let's turn our attention to Off Broadway. One intriguing upcoming production is What's That Smell: The Music of Jacob Sterling, which will play at the Atlantic Theater Company's Stage 2 in September. The show is written, co-directed, and performed by David Pittu, a captivating actor who first caught my attention in the otherwise desultory LoveMusik. Pittu was mesmerizing as playwright Bertolt Brecht, and along with co-stars Michael Cerveris and Donna Murphy almost made the show worth seeing. Almost. (Read my review here.)

The ATC is billing What's That Smell as "an absurd musical satire that charts the career of eternally up-and-coming (and fictitious) musical theater composer Jacob Sterling." Not so much a musical as a "comedy with vocal selections," What's That Smell appears to be a send-up of musical theater styles and personalities. Will it be an affectionate rib poking, or a scathing exposé? We'll certainly see. All I know is David Pittu is reason enough for me to see the show, and I'll be doing so on September 20th. Look for my review here shortly thereafter.

The Fantasticks: Why It's Lasted

Over my most recent weekend in New York, I also took in my first professional production of The Fantasticks. I had appeared in the show about...well, a depressingly large number of years ago, playing Matt, the callow young boy. The part was too high for me vocally, but I was the only one in our little short-lived theater group who could convincingly play the part. So I have a very special place in my heart for this show, but it's also a terrific piece, and I had been meaning to see it in New York for some time.

It hardly needs relating that The Fantasticks is the world's longest-running musical, having lasted a stunning 42 years in its original incarnation. The show received a 2006 revival that ran for more than 650 performances, and closed earlier this year. After a five-month "winter hiatus" ("Oh, no, we didn't close. We were just hibernating..."), the production reopened at the recently renamed Jerry Orbach Theater at 50th Street and Broadway. (That's right across the street from Wicked at the Gershwin, for those in need of a landmark.) Orbach, as you may know, originated the part of El Gallo in the original production of The Fantasticks, which makes the name of this theater a fitting and moving tribute to a beloved performer.

From the opening of the delightful overture, I found this production of The Fantasticks a non-stop joy. First, you're dealing with a near-perfect little gem of a show, with a deceptively simple story and a rich and melodic score. Tom Jones' book is nothing short of poetry, full of wise epigrams and witty repartee. And Harvey Schmidt's score is a multifarious wonder, all the more remarkable given that the "orchestra" comprises simply a piano player and a harpist. But that's all you really need: this show is a model of theatrical economy.

The current cast features a roster of seasoned pros and eager young faces who infuse the production with a sense of freshness, aided greatly by librettist Tom Jones's sharp and lively direction. At the helm as the narrator El Gallo is the wonderful Dennis Parlato. El Gallo is a part that all too easily lends itself to histrionics and bluster, but Parlato wisely eschews both in favor of an underplayed intensity that evinces both the menace and the magnetism that make the part one of the best male roles in the musical theater canon.

The delightful Gene Jones and Steve Routman, as Hucklebee (the boy's father) and Bellamy (the girl's father) respectively, add just the right touch of ham to these wonderful comic roles. Margaret Anne Florence gave the part of Luisa just the right mix of young foolishness and silly self importance. At this performance, understudy Jordan Nichols played Matt, and he did a fine job. Since Nichols typically plays the Mute, he's no doubt had ample opportunity to see the role performed, but his subbing the role of Matt gave Douglas Ullman, Jr. a chance to play the Mute, and Ullman brought a sort of omniscient intensity to a part that could easily be a throwaway role. 

So, if you're like me and you've seen all the musicals that Broadway has to offer, or if you're just looking for a wonderful time in an intimate setting, check out The Fantasticks. It really is a timeless show with a universal message ("Without a hurt, the heart is hollow"), and as far as I'm concerned, it deserves to run another 42 years.

Sondheim's Bounce Becomes Road Show

As many of you know, Stephen Sondheim's latest show will play the Public Theater this fall. Yesterday, the folks involved announced two key developments. First, the show formerly known as Bounce will now be called Road Show. Second, the Public production will star Michael Cerveris and Alexander Gemignani as the Mizner brothers.

The latter certainly makes sense, given that the director will be John Doyle, and the pair appeared in Doyle's roundly praised revival of Sweeney Todd. That and the fact that they're both terrificly talented performers who will certainly do the show proud.

And then there's the name change. This will be the show's fourth appellation. ("Um...pardon the big words I apply, but I was an English major at CCNY...") It was originally known as Wise Guys, then briefly as Gold. Sondheim tells Playbill's Harry Haun that the show has seen some major revisions since its 2003 Chicago and DC productions and subsequent recording, and the shift in focus warranted a new title. Characters have been added and dropped, and the overall theme of the show has shifted from "resilience" (ergo Bounce) to "divergent paths" (hence Road Show).

Hit or flop, triumphant success or resounding failure, a "new" Sondheim show, or even a thoroughly revamped version of a long-gestating Sondheim show, is always cause for celebration. I just joined the Public Theater so that I'll be able to obtain what is likely to be a very hot ticket indeed.

Hair Extension and Afterlife?

Although the Public Theater production of Hair at the Delacorte Theater doesn't open until tomorrow, the producers have already long since announced an extension. The show, which started previews on July 22nd, was originally supposed to have run until August 17th, but will now play until August 31st.

Unfortunately, Jonathan Groff, Tony nominee for Spring Awakening, won't be able to play the extension, owing to a previous commitment. Enter Christopher Hanke, late of Cry-Baby, who will step into the role of Claude Hooper Bukowski for the rest of the run. Interestingly enough, Groff made his Broadway debut understudying for Hanke during the abbreviated run of the musical In My Life. (Some would call that ironic. They'd be wrong.)

According to Playbill.com, there have also been rumblings about a commercial transfer, whether via national tour or subsequent production in New York. Given the logjam of shows circling Broadway right now, it will be interesting to see if the Public tries to bring the show to the Rialto this season, or opts for an Off-Broadway venue. Perhaps the show might slip into the Circle in the Square, now that the revival of for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf appears to be stalled.

I'm a huge fan of the score to Hair, but I've never actually seen the show on stage. I've read the script, which is sketchy and episodic at best, and the 1979 Milos Forman film version seems a major improvement, at least in terms of a cohesive plot. I'll be seeing the show this Saturday with fellow blogger SarahB. (Holla, girl!) Look for my review sometime next week.

[UPDATE: The "previous commitment" preventing Jonathan Groff from finishing out the run of Hair is apparently a starring role in the new Ang Lee movie "Taking Woodstock." Well, wouldn't you?]

Damn Yankees: Summer Fun at City Center

Although I briefly address Damn Yankees in my Boston Conservatory course, until last weekend I had never seen a professional production. I'm very familiar with the faithful movie adaptation, and I've long been a fan of the cast album, but this was my first time seeing the show on a real stage.

No mere concert version, the City Center's Encores! production is fully staged, with costumes and sets, and without scripts. I had heard that performers in the Encores! series have to carry scripts because they're operating under a special concert agreement with the union. This was true of Juno and No, No, Nanette, but for Damn Yankees there wasn't a script in sight. Perhaps the "Summer Stars" series has a different union agreement, and/or since the Encores! shows run a bit longer in the summer, it's more worthwhile for people to actually learn their lines.

In any case, I thoroughly enjoyed this production of Damn Yankees, although I had some minor reservations with the show itself and with a few of the performances. The marquee performers here are TV stars Sean Hayes and Jane Krakowski, and for the most part they're professional but uninspired in their respective roles as Applegate and Lola. Hayes is at his best when glimpses of his Jack McFarland character on "Will and Grace" are peeking through, but he's stiff and stilted when he's trying to play it straight, as it were. It reminded me of seeing Megan Mullaley in Young Frankenstein, who was trying way too hard not to be Karen Walker. I say, don't resist it: If something works, let it ride. Did anyone knock Jimmy Durante or Fanny Brice for always doing the same shtick? Perhaps they did, but it hasn't affected the legendary status of those performers.

Hayes has some really great moments as Applegate, and certainly has the audience on his side. However, Hayes and director John Rando have made a major miscalculation during Applegate's second act would-be show-stopper, "Those Were the Good Old Days." Hayes is a classically trained pianist, a fact that Rando mistakenly chooses to showcase during the first part of the number. It's a choice that could have worked, but doesn't. Hayes focuses so much on his keyboard ministrations that he drains the number of its comic intent. It does set up a very cute visual joke with a violin, but otherwise this choice was misguided.

Jane Krakowski has the thankless task of trying to reclaim the Lola role from the marvelous Gwen Verdon, a very difficult task, as Bebe Neuwirth discovered during the 1994 Damn Yankees revival. But Krakowski certainly holds her own. There's no real spark in her Lola, but she has a strong voice and an amazing body. Plus, she's really a terrific dancer, a fact that becomes particularly evident during the "Two Lost Souls" dance break. Krakowski didn't really get much of a chance to show off her dancing skills in Grand Hotel or Nine.

The production team have chosen to use Bob Fosse's original choreography, recreated here by Mary MacLeod. Some of the dancers aren't quite in sync with the Fosse style, including Tony nominee John Selya. He's athletic, to be sure, but he hasn't quite been able to adopt the signature Fosse postures and mannerisms.

The below-the-title cast members are for the most part outstanding, particularly Randy Graff as an animated and sympathetic Meg. Cheyenne Jackson is his strong-voiced, appealing, and gorgeous self, although some of the vocal tricks he employs to such great effect as Sonny in Xanadu don't really work for Joe Hardy. 

The show itself is not without its flaws. The Gloria character, played here by Tony nominee Megan Lawrence, starts off helping to create the "Shoeless Joe" persona, then spends the rest of the show trying to cut the guy down, and the script provides no justification for the sudden switch. And the "Who's Got the Pain?" number is a direct parallel to "Steam Heat" in The Pajama Game: neither number has any real justification in the plot, but rather merely exists to showcase some terrific Fosse choreography. But even in the '50s, this was an antiquated notion, obviated by the Rodgers and Hammerstein revolution, which dictated that every element of the show should somehow serve the plot, reveal character, or establish time and place. Both "Who's Got the Pain?" and "Steam Heat" fail on all counts. 

But, on the whole, this is a solid production with an appealing cast, and a welcome summer diversion. And it's about as close as I'm ever going to get to taking in a Yankees game. Or any game, for that matter.

Bash'd: A Gay Rap Opera

Although many of the shows that I saw over the past weekend were revisits, there were three that I hadn't seen before. The first of these was Bash'd, which describes itself as a "gay rap opera." I wasn't sure what to expect, although I had read that the show was an attempt to co-opt the often homophobic medium of hip-hop to tell an empowering story about gay bashing. That seemed a bit strident to me, but this was one of the very few musicals I hadn't seen, and I was looking for something new to add to the mix.

It was also my first time at the Zipper Theater, recent home to the revival of Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris, and Margaret Cho's The Sensuous Woman. It's a funky, sort of seedy space, with old car seats for chairs. Upon entering, I was informed multiple times that drinks were allowed -- nay, encouraged -- in the auditorium. (Uh oh...)

Bash'd tells the story of two "star-crossed" gay lovers from different backgrounds whose eyes meet across a crowded dance floor, and the next thing you know they're getting married. (The show is based in Canada, which is where the two stars and co-creators Chris Craddock and Nathan Cuckow hail from. And, of course, gay marriage is legal for all of our northern neighbors, not just those in a few ultra-liberal pockets, as we have in the states.) The show tells the story of these lovers entirely through rap, which is bearable -- even fun -- at first, but the meter quickly wears out its welcome.

When the show is focusing on the courtship and marriage of our ill-fated lovers, the show is amusing and often quite clever. Director Ron Jenkins employs some artful theatrical touches, not dissimilar from those employed in Broadway's The 39 Steps. But once the gay bashing comes on the scene, the show quickly veers into preachy, maudlin melodrama, without a shred of irony. There's no question that Chris Craddock ("T-bag") and Cuckow ("Feminem") are talented performers. But since they are also the show's creators, its failings fall at their feet as well. Their lyrics reveal a certain facility, but the deftness of their words is quickly overshadowed by the perplexing nature of the show's final message.

[SPOILER ALERT: Stop reading here if you intend to see the show. In order to fully explicate my views, it's necessary that I reveal what happens at the end.]

Since our narrators inform us from the beginning of the show that our lovers are "star-crossed," it's clear that we're not headed toward at happy ending. As the title implies, one member of the couple is beaten up rather severely by a pack of queer-hating dickwads. Gay bashing is a heartbreakingly important social issue, and one that certainly deserves attention.

But then the story takes on a certain "Thelma and Louise" vibe that muddies the authors' intent and makes the ultimate message of the show downright inscrutable. The husband of the beaten man heads out into the night seeking vengeance, and picks a fight with a group of straight guys, none of whom had anything to do with the original beating. Unbeknownst to him, his wounded husband has followed him, toting the gun that his well-meaning mother had given him when he left home to get away from his homophobic father. In a sort of West Side Story series of misunderstandings, the husband shoots and kills one of the straight guys. When the police arrive, the couple decide that rather than face jail, they'd rather die at the hands of the police, and they raise the gun to shoot at the police, and are instead both shot dead.

Normally, I wouldn't go into such detail, and ruin the ending of the show, but I'm at a loss to explain exactly what the message is here. Is it, "Here's what could happen if we don't stop the gay bashing"? Or is it, "If you do get bashed, don't pick a fight with straights in case your husband has followed you with a gun"? How is this supposed to be empowering? In a blind rage, our heroes fight back and are killed in the process. What exactly are we to take away from that? Although Bash'd starts out promising, it quickly dissipates that promise with a denouement that defies explication.

Don't get me wrong: this is very important subject matter we're discussing here. But there's a huge difference between having your heart in the right place and executing a show that does your noble subject matter justice.

Adding Machine: The Best New Musical of the Season

One of the highlights of my recent theater weekend in New York was getting a chance to see Adding Machine again before it closes July 20th. I was simply astonished the first time I saw the show (read my review), and I'm glad to report that the show holds up to repeated viewings.

And Joshua Schmidt's score, recently released on CD by PS Classics, just gets richer and more interesting the more I listen to it, and I've been doing so practically non-stop since the recording came out. I particularly enjoy trying to spot each motif that Schmidt has assigned to the characters as it recurs throughout the show, including Mrs. Zero's "Mrs. Twelve was sayin' to me..." and Daisy's "Darling, I'd rather watch you."

Director David Cromer had made a number of brave choices in putting the show together, such as eschewing applause breaks and casting...er...ordinary-looking people pretty much throughout the show. Another essential part of show is Keith Parham's neurasthenic lighting design, which does more than merely create a grim atmosphere, but rather punctuates the proceedings with stark slashes and staccato rhythms that firmly coalesce with the authors' intent.

As for that intent, Schmidt and his co-librettist Jason Loewith aren't afraid to portray Elmer Rice's downtrodden characters as stupid and bigoted, yet somehow sympathetic. The main character Mr. Zero emerges as a flawed but credible, three-dimensional anti-hero. "I'm like anyone else...What would you do?," he sings, as he confesses to the central crime of the show. Somehow, I felt for Zero, even as I said to myself, "Well, I was laid off recently by an asshole boss, but I didn't kill him. Much as I would have liked to..."

The show's performers maintain a high level of engagement and subtlety. Amy Warren as Daisy was particularly nuanced, giving every line reading what seemed to be a different spin from both the previous performance I saw and the recording. But they were all somehow equally effective. Warren is a marvel, fully embodying this woebegone drudge of a character. Also strong were Joel Hatch as Zero, Cyrilla Baer as his banshee of a wife, and a focused Joe Farrell as the intense and tortured Shrdlu.

Adding Machine is certainly not the feel-good hit of the year, although there seemed to be considerably more laughter from the audience this time. It didn't seem to stem from anything the actors were doing. Perhaps this crowd was simply more attuned to the comedy, or maybe I just don't fully recall the laughter from the first time I saw the show. I do have some minor quibbles with the production, including the inordinately long set changes. But on the whole Adding Machine is easily the most daring and satisfying musical of the year.

Adding Machine to Close July 20th

The critically acclaimed Off-Broadway musical Adding Machine will end its run at the Minetta Lane Theater on July 20th. The show had extended its limited run through August 31st, but apparently sales weren't brisk enough to justify that extension.

If you haven't already seen Adding Machine, I can't recommend it highly enough. As I said in my review, it's a continually surprising show, confounding your expectations at every turn. Since the cast album came out, I've been listening to practically nothing else. The score just gets richer and more interesting the more I hear it. I'm seeing the show again this Thursday as part of my July 4th theater weekend. (New York City in July? Oh, the humanity.)

See the show. Buy the CD. This is easily the best musical of the past season, on or off Broadway.

Evil Dead: The Marketing Campaign

To advertise the Toronto run of Evil Dead: The Musical, the marketing staff have come up with a pretty clever poster campaign. You might have seen these before, but I finally found some decent scans and decided to post them. If only the musical itself were even half as clever or as funny as the posters, they might have a winner on their hands. Unfortunately, the musical is a stinker. (Read my review of the Off-Broadway production.)

Can This Musical Be Saved?

Anyone interested in seeing how a marvelously talented cast can shore up material that is far beneath its collective abilities should head over to Playwrights Horizons before June 22nd. There you'll find Saved, a sanitized musical version of the 2004 movie of the same name. On the whole, the show reminded me of Next to Normal, and not just because of the presence of Aaron Tveit in both shows. Like N2N, Saved never quite establishes a consistent tone with which to treat its admirable subject matter.

To understand what's wrong with this flawed but well-meaning show, take a look at the logo. (See color version below) Yeah, it's not going to win any design awards, mostly because in addition to being aesthetically dull, it tells you nothing about the show. A heart with wings and a halo: Is this going to be a carefree romp about the Sacred Heart of Jesus? A show about an afterlife romance involving Dr. Christiaan Barnard? There's really no way to know.

The show starts off as though it's going to be a soft-pedal satire, but quickly veers into the land of bland earnestness. The extended opening sequence does nothing to establish a consistent tone, and I spent the rest of Act 1 trying to determine whether the show had a point of view. It never materialized, which left me feeling that the show was neither fish nor fowl, neither comedy nor drama, neither satire nor homage.

The plot involves a group of kids at a Christian high school who start to deal with some social issues -- notably, homosexuality and teenage pregnancy -- and are eventually forced to choose between strict dogma and compassion for their classmates. This creates a terrific opportunity for some biting social commentary, but the creators have squandered that opportunity.

Saved features an unremarkable score by Michael Friedman. And despite the fact that the show lists three lyricists -- Friedman, John Dempsey (The Pirate Queen, The Witches of Eastwick), and Rinne Groff -- the only time the lyrics become memorable is when they're painfully bad: "Life is screwy, grab onto a life buoy," "Cleaning your messy diapers taught me how to pray," and "Pop