Review - Spider-Man on Broadway

OK, I think it's time to explain my relative silence on the whole Spider-Man fiasco. Last September, I was admitted into the Outer Critics Circle, an august organization of theater writers working for media outside New York City. It's a wonderful opportunity for me to be a more integral part of the theatrical/critical community, and it's made a huge difference in my getting into press events and performances.

But the president of the OCC, when he heard that I was attending a preview performance of Spider-Man early in January, suggested that I should observe the standard industry etiquette and wait until the show's official opening night to post my review. Not wanting to jeopardize my standing in the organization, I deferred.

Now, as anyone with even a passing familiarity with the situation can attest, the official opening night for Spider-Man - which, after 5 delays, was supposed to occur this evening - has been further delayed until June 14th, putting the show out of contention for Tony consideration for the current season. And most of the major and even minor critics gave up waiting for opening night weeks ago, and decided to weigh in on Spider-Man on February 7th, the most recent "official" opening night before tonight.

And it wasn't pretty, m'kay? (Click here for a compendium of the reviews.) So, I discussed it with my editor. (OK, with my dog, Oliver.) And we decided that there really wasn't any point to waiting any longer.

In short, the show was a mess. An unfixable mess? Not quite. But perhaps beyond the capabilities of mere mortals to salvage. Alas, director Julie Taymor has proven all too mortal, and was recently shunted aside by the producers and, significantly, Bono. I'm of two minds about this. First, from published reports, it was pretty clear that Taymor was unwilling to make the changes necessary to make the show even remotely comprehensible. Because when I saw the show, act 1 seemed rushed but perhaps fixable, but act 2 made no bleeding sense whatsoever. By all accounts, Taymor didn't really see the problem, and was of the mind that the show was basically set to open. Clearly, if the show was going to work at all, Taymor needed to go.

But I find it a tad ironic that Bono and The Edge, who wrote what can only be charitably called the "score" for Spider-Man, seem to be positioning themselves as the wronged party in these negotiations. Because their songs are terrible. Absolutely awful. The score is beyond repair, not that Bono and The Edge have been anywhere near the show long enough to see the problem. And it appears that they won't be around much for the rest of the preview period. So, my advice to the producers is to simply give up on the score and try to salvage whatever they can from the book.

Because - and let me be painfully clear about this - the show as musical theater is a disaster. The only hope the producers have for getting even the smallest fraction of the money back lies in getting the story to make some modicum of sense, polishing up the flying sequences, and taking the show to London and Vegas, two venues that have a much higher tolerance for this kind of techno-schlock.

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

I have pages and pages of notes from my Spider-Man experience, but they all essentially come down to this: in an effort to indulge herself in mythological pretension, Taymor forced all of the standard Spider-Man story into the first act, and the result is rushed, spotty, and detrimentally episodic. There's not enough time for the relationships to develop, particularly between Peter Parker and his aunt and uncle, so when his uncle meets an untimely end, we've only really seen the man in one scene, which makes it hard to feel anything for Peter and his loss.

You've probably heard about the "Geek Chorus," which essentially comprises a bunch of comic book fanatics who help tell the story. Or are supposed to. In theory. In fact, they only add to the confusion. First, narration of any kind is almost always a sign of lazy writing. But, more important, it's not really clear who these kids are, or what they're supposed to be doing. Are they creating the story for a school project? Are they writing their own comic book? Are they, in fact, creating the show in their own minds? WTF, Julie?

And then there's Arachne, a character that Taymor invented based on Greek mythology. One of the major flaws of Spider-Man when I saw it in January was that it wasn't clear whether Arachne was supposed to be good or evil. Apparently she's the source of Peter's Spidey power, but then she turns on him in the second act and starts to wreak havoc across the metropolis. Whatever. But that leads to one of the most laugh-out-loud sequences I've ever encountered in 30-plus years of attending musical-theater performances.

During the havoc, someone has been breaking into all of the shoe stores in the city. Yes, the shoe stores. Shortly thereafter, Arachne screams to the heavens, "I want those shoes!" In the next scene, all of Arachne's minions, who are supposed to represent the Furies from Greek mythology, sing an atrocious song called "Getting Furious." (Get it?) The Furies are wearing these skirts made from what look like legs stolen from all the mannequins at Macy's, and at the end of each mannequin leg is one of the stolen shoes. What this is supposed to have anything to do with Spider-Man is anybody's guess. (Julie?) For me, this was the moment when Spider-Man morphed from a show that simply wasn't working to a disaster of epic proportions. It's one of those jaw-dropping moments that collectors of flops hope for, dream about, and fortunately, in this respect at least, Spider-Man did not disappoint.

Worst of all in the lack-of-comprehension department is the show's denouement, which takes place in Arachne's lair. Arachne has kidnapped Peter Parker's girl, Mary Jane, and is holding M.J. hostage in her elaborate webbing. (Well, more like a fishing net. Clearly that $65 million went elsewhere.) Then somehow, Peter Parker defeats Arachne by...kissing her, I think...or outwitting her spiritually...or beating her at a game of Go Fish. (Well, it would make as much sense as what's currently on stage at the [shudder] Foxwoods Theater.) And Peter somehow gets his powers back and rescues Mary Jane and all is well with the world. But I'll be damned if I can figure out how all that happened. The scene is mind-bogglingly confusing and obtuse.

Oh, and I was waiting for the show to explain what the hell "Turn Off the Dark" is supposed to mean. I'm still waiting. There's a song by that name in the second act, and I was sort of looking forward to hearing it in the hope of deconstructing the show's pointlessly inscrutable subtitle. No such luck.

Can this show be saved? Should this show be saved? Do I care? Well, I'll certainly be back to see the show again, if only to see what they've done to try to fix it. The show's new director Philip William McKinley (The Boy from Oz? 'Nuff said.) and book doctor Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa (It's a Bird...It's a Plane...It's Superman) certainly have their work cut out for them. So, I'll definitely return to Spider-Man once the show actually opens.

If it actually opens.

Comments

[Scot Colford]

Oh, Chris, that is a beautiful piece of writing right there. I expect to see this as the introduction to the sequel to Not Since Carrie. I haven't had such a good time reading train wreck synopsis since I read that. Man, I really may need to see this. But I keep thinking that *surely* the money must start running out soon... right? Who the heck is pumping cash into this thing?

I am eager to hear what Aguirre-Sacasa does with the book though. If *anyone* should be working on a Spiderman musical (which is quite a leap to take to begin with), it should be him.

Doesn't anyone learn? Comic STRIPS make good musicals. Comic BOOKS do not. Not that that's the problem, but still a lesson that should have been heeded.

[Robert]

Well, it's making up its weekly running costs right now. It's nut may be around a million, but it's making, on average, 1.5 million most weeks, so it's not, strictly speaking, *losing* money. So there's probably not going to be a lot of changes in the physical aspect, since those items are already constructed and paid for. >_>

[Al Chase]

Chris,

Beautifully articulated. I saw the matinee on the day when Julie was fired. I fell asleep during the second act! I held a running commentary with the usher closest to me, an actor who appreciates good theater and hates bad theater. At the end of the fiasco, I went up to her and said: "It was a tedious, occasionally entertaining mess." Her response: "Sir, you are being much too generous."

[ccaggiano]

Al, you didn't miss much, except utter confusion. And I *love* that even the ushers are over this mess.

[ccaggiano]

Scot: All this money could fund a whole lotta libraries, huh?

As for the comic strip/book distinction, I always say that there are no "nevers" and so "alwayses" in musical theater. People used to say that baseball musicals would never work. Until Damn Yankees. And they said that shows set in Italy were doomed. Until Nine.

Another thing I always say is that there's no such thing as a bad idea for a musical, only bad execution. And the execution here...well...

[ccaggiano]

Yeah, pity the poor book doctor. His hands are basically tied by the existing physical infrastructure. And rumor has it he's only getting about $20,000 for the job. Oy.

[Alison]

Fantastic review! Really funny, engaging, and truthful. I'm curious though, what did you think of the actors?

[ccaggiano]

Oh, yeah. Them. Well, I guess I found them irrelevant, since that's really how the production treats them. Patrick Page is always a pro, even when he's doing the Grinch. Reeve Carney was out, and the understudy was fine. Jennifer Damiano was less grating than she was in Next to Normal. And nobody else really made much of an impression. But that's not really the actors fault, at least from where I sit.

[Celawerd]

I don't want to sound harsh, because the sad truth is that a lot of actors and crew members are emplyoed with this trainwreck, and they might soon be out of a job, but I am hoping that it does not end up opening, at least on brodayway, anyway. My main problem with the concept of the show is the budget. If this show were to suceed, it might set a trend where future shows have to have a 65 million dollar budget, and have people "flying" around the theatre in order to be sucessful. In truth, this does not make good theatre. In fact, it does not make theatre at all, from what I hear.

[-Rich]

I didn't like the idea to begin with, and then I thought I'd give it a chance, and now I want it gone again. The last delay I was willing to accept was the March 15th one but now that its been extended to June I just don't care anymore. If it dies, I could care less. I actually hope it dies

[Geoff]

Personally, I don't think the idea of "Spider-Man" as a musical is necessarily atrocious, but I do wonder if anybody asked the question: Does this material really need to sing? Because if the answer is no, then all is for naught. You're basically left with what Mary Rodgers calls a "Why?" musical. As it stands today "Spider-Man" may just be the biggest "Why?" musical of all time.

I think Peter Parker has a rich enough emotional life and is sufficiently conflicted to provide the basis of some really compelling musical drama. How I wish the focus had been on sympathetic characters in an interesting (and clearly told) story punctuated with music that serves a dramatic purpose. Sadly, none of these elements seem to be present. Thus, to me, the greatest failure of this endeavor lies in the writing, or the complete lack thereof. Were any of the authors even remotely aware of "the great tradition" that is American musical theatre? The ridiculous title of the show especially encapsulates the problem with the writing: namely, relying on artifice and symbolism when what is desperately needed is clarity. Why say "Turn off the dark" when what you really mean is "Turn on the light"? Because it sounds vaguely cool and arty or because you just don't know what you do want to say? I generally don't care for the term pretentious, but if the shoe fits, then Arachne should wear it.

Like most aficionados of musicals, I generally relish a good flop. It's mean to revel in another's misfortune, I know, but dammit flop musicals are just so fascinating. Questions such as "What were they thinking?" and "How did they think they could get away with this?" often abound and "Spider-Man" raises these questions too. But "Spider-Man" also takes the concept of a flop and distorts it to a level of such epic proportions that I don't even know what to call it. Some new term will need to be coined. Meta-flop?

The attention lavished on this show is also depressing. This is just not the kind of publicity I like to see Broadway getting, especially in an age where musical theatre is perceived as less and less relevant to mainstream America.