Everything I Know I Learned from Musicals

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 "Popping the zit of sin" are just some of the groaners from the show. What's more, the score feels repetitious: There are far too many songs in the show that essentially say "Life has thrown me a curve, what do I do now?"

As I mentioned, the show has a better cast than it really deserves, including the delightful Celia Keenan-Bolger as the central character Mary. Julia Murney plays Mary's mother, imbuing the character with dimension and humor, despite the two-dimensional material. Also noteworthy are Curtis Holbrook in the Macaulay Culkin role, and John Dossett, who deserves extra credit for being able to sing lyrics like "I'm yearning, I'm searching, I'm seeking" with a straight face.

As we were filing out, I overheard someone saying, "I wonder whether this show would work in a bigger venue?" I couldn't help it. I turned to him and said, "I don't think it's going to get the chance." Besides, it's not as though it's working in its present venue.

Can this musical be saved? Not from where I sit.

What the Heck is Jollyship the Whiz Bang?

I'm really starting to expand my horizons beyond the high-profile Broadway musicals. This season I've seen quite a few Off-Broadway shows, and I've even begun my first forays into wilds of Off-Off-Broadway. And I'm finding that there's a great big world of live entertainment out there beyond the confines of 6th and 9th Avenues.

The last time I was in New York, I was supposed to see a show with my fellow blogger Patrick Lee (check out his blog at Just Shows to Go You). We had planned on seeing Glory Days, but it closed on opening night, and efforts to line up a replacement show were fraught with peril and misunderstanding. So I told Patrick that this time I would place myself entirely in his hands. I had already seen all the musicals I was interested in, so I told him I was game for anything he chose, even if we'd be sitting on folding chairs in a church basement watching Krapp's Last Tape in Swahili. Well, as it turns out Patrick's selection turned out to be a musical.

Of sorts.

How to describe Jollyship the Whiz Bang? Passing Strange meets "Kukla, Fran and Ollie"? Avenue Q meets Mutiny on the Bounty? The Talking Heads meets Mr. Rogers? Whatever, Jollyship the Whiz Bang is a deliciously ridiculous rock-concert-based musical with a pulsating series of songs. The plot, though really irrelevant, concerns a ship of pirates initially looking for the elusive Party Island. But as I said, the story is incidental, serving merely as a frame for some truly silly hipster humor and some terrific indie rock songs.

The cast is a combination of band members and other performers manipulating crudely carved puppets most analogous to the citizens of Make-Believe on "Mr. Rogers Neighborhood." At first the show came off a bit lame, but once the beer kicked in (did I mention there's a bar?) I began to have a grand old time. And it features some wonderfully arch performances from lead singer and co-creator Nick Jones, as well as Steven Boyer and Julie Lake in a diverting series of cameos and supporting roles.

These days, whenever a musical opens, there's immediate chatter about whether the show is bound for bigger and better things (i.e. Broadway). I heard it from numerous groups in the audience at the other new musical I saw that weekend, Saved. (See my review later this week.) Well, Jollyship is the sort of show that really shouldn't play anywhere except a small club-like venue like Ars Nova, where it's running until June 28th. This intentionally ridiculous show benefits greatly from an intimate atmosphere and readily available alcohol, and it really doesn't want to be anything more than it is.

And what's wrong with that?

Adding Machine Extends Through Summer

The critically acclaimed Off-Broadway musical Adding Machine has extended its run again. The show is now scheduled to play at the Minetta Lane Theater until August 31st.

If you haven't seen it, go. Just go. (See my review here) From the title and the plot description, you might get the impression that this show is a dull depression-fest, but it's actually quite lively and uplifting. Sure it's dark, but so are The Threepenny Opera and The Cradle Will Rock, two shows that bear strong comparison with Adding Machine. This is easily the best new musical of the season, on or off Broadway, and anyone who cares about the future of musical theater owes it to himself/herself to take in this subversively brilliant show.

On a related note, PS Classics will be releasing the cast recording for Adding Machine on June 3rd, but the CD will be available at the theater and at the PS Classics Web site two weeks prior. See the show, then buy the CD. Then see the show again.

Next to Normal Gets Regional Production

The recent Off-Broadway musical Next to Normal will be part of the Arena Stage's 2008 to 2009 season. Featuring lyrics and book by Brian Yorkey and music by Tom Kitt, the show ended a one-month run at New York's Second Stage Theatre in March.

Regular readers will no doubt recall my strong reaction to seeing Next to Normal. Essentially, although I had problems with the execution of the show, my primary contention was with Yorkey's apparent message that the central female character was better off without psychiatric intervention. I took particular exception to his apparent stance on electroconvulsive thearapy (ECT), as well as to the horrific and tasteless way the show portrayed ECT.

After coming across my admittedly harsh review of the show, librettist Yorkey sent me an angry email. His lengthy missive started off reasonable, but eventually descended into argumentum ad hominem. I didn't want to dignify Yorkey's screed with a direct response, but I'll issue it here in open-letter style:

Mr. Yorkey,

I applaud your efforts to craft a show that addresses the serious issue of mental illness. But nothing in your email to me addressed my central concern. Are you, indeed, saying that your main female character is better off without drugs or ECT? If so, then I stand by my review. If not, then your show, in the form I saw it at the Second Stage Theater, does not accurately reflect your point.

I can understand if you'd rather leave that judgment to the viewer. But, as currently constructed, your show gives the strong impression that you advocate a "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" approach to mental illness. Again, if that's your intention, then I couldn't disagree with you more.

Respectfully yours,

Chris Caggiano

In the process of ripping me a new one, Yorkey mentioned that the show was a work in progress. Fair enough. Let's hope that, as the show progresses, Yorkey and director Michael Greif can find a way to to bring the show some clarity and balance.

Adding Machine: Surprising and Subversive

This past weekend, I also took in the critically acclaimed new musical Adding Machine at the Minetta Lane Theater. This brilliant new work by Joshua Schmidt and Jason Loewith is dark but never bleak, consistently confounding expectations right to the end of the show. Schmidt also provides the challenging and idiomatic music.

The show is based on Elmer Rice's The Adding Machine, a milestone of American Expressionism, and concerns the colorless life -- and colorful afterlife -- of Mr. Zero, who works as a human adding machine for 25 years until he's obviated by automation. The show at first reminded me of Marc Blitzstein's The Cradle Will Rock, both in subject matter and presentation. The connection is apt: Cradle was the first and only musical produced under the Federal Theater Project, and Elmer Rice at one time headed up the New York office of the FTP. But Adding Machine quickly distinguishes itself from Blitzstein's seminal work in a number of remarkable ways. What starts as your standard cautionary dystopian vision eventually careens off into something far more complex and satisfying.

Because Adding Machine is indeed a story with a message, but it's far more subversive than simply "the plight of the faceless working man." This is a musical about nothing less than man's obligation to achieve spiritual and intellectual growth. I kid you not. Schmidt, Loewith, and ultimately Rice are saying "Yeah, it sucks to be a plebe. What are you going to do about it? How are you complicit in your own subjugation? Are you secretly choosing to be a slave?" A provocative notion, indeed.

Director David Cromer has amassed a tremendously talented cast, who craft subtle yet stylized performances. Of particular note were Joel Hatch, who brings a volatile intensity to the central Mr. Zero. Also outstanding were Amy Warren as Zero's mousy coworker Daisy who blossoms into his posthumous paramour, and Cyrilla Baer as his hysterically shrill harpy of a wife. 

Adding Machine is currently scheduled to run at the Minetta Lane until May 25th. It's well worth taking in: don't let the dull title or the seemingly depressing subject matter scare you off. This is easily one of the most interesting and ambitious musicals to come along in many a season.

On a side note, I've been to the Minetta Lane Theater twice before, to see Jeffrey and Gross Indecency, but I don't remember the seats being quite this cramped. I'm 5' 9", and my inseam is only 30 inches, but even I was feeling the pinch of insufficient legroom and claustrophobic seat spacing. Perhaps the architect wanted to make the nearby Greenwich Village habitants, with their 300-square-foot basement studios, feel at home.