Review - Baby It's You on Broadway

I can't be bothered to write a lead for this review. Perhaps if the authors had bothered to write a show, I might be so inclined. Instead, Baby It's You, currently defiling the venerable Broadhurst Theatre, is a lazy, amateurish embarrassment of a production disguising itself as yet another cynical dose of jukebox, Boomer nostalgia.

All you have to do is read the Playbill for Baby It's You to know that there's going to be trouble. The "book" is by Colin Escott and Floyd Mutrux, the latter of whom inflicted Million Dollar Quartet upon the Broadway stage. The show is directed by Mutrux and Sheldon Epps, with choreography by Birgitte Mutrux. ("Uh-oh: the director and the choreographer have the same last name. Smells like a vanity project to me...")

Sheldon Epps is artistic director at Pasadena Playhouse, which also shepherded Blues in the Night, Play On!, and Looped through their development processes. Not exactly a string of smash Broadway hits. And the above-the-title producers on Baby It's You are Warner Brothers Theatre Ventures and American Pop Anthology, "produced in association with" Universal Music Group. Yikes. Can you say "corporate brand-extension campaign"?

But all would have been forgiven if the show had been any good. It's not good. It's sooooooooo not good. It's the polar opposite of good. Act one starts with a mini-concert of random pop hits - not even by The Shirelles - to get the audience on its side. It had the opposite effect on me. Act two starts with another pointless concert, and the show ends with a Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat megamix. Get 'em dancing in the aisles and all will be forgiven? No such luck.

Baby It's You borrows the worst parts of Million Dollar Quartet, Jersey Boys, Dreamgirls, and Memphis, throws them in a blender, and serves up the unappealing result, lukewarm. Purportedly the story of The Shirelles, Baby It's You is essentially Jersey Boys with estrogen. And without balls. The plot features such well-worn territory as how recording artists had to grease the monetary wheels to get a record played (aka "pay for play"), how African American performers couldn't stay in white hotels, and how a working woman in the 1950s had to make sacrifices.

The show tells the story of Florence Greenberg, incipient music mogul, and her efforts to make The Shirelles into a successful singing group. Once again, the amazing Beth Leavel shines out amid the crap, as she has done in so many other shows, including a recent stint in Mamma Mia. (Read my review.) The personal part of the show's plot focuses on the old cliché about how when the woman enters the working world, she must inevitably make trade-offs regarding her family. Greenberg's husband thinks she should be home in the kitchen. Her son helps her out in the music biz, but other than the fact that he is blind, we learn practically nothing about him as a person. And Greenberg's daughter thinks mom should take her...shoe shopping? Whatever.

The show gets points for trying to paint a real picture of Greenberg, but the book is clumsy and episodic, proceeding from underdeveloped complication to pat resolution and onward. The story doesn't build, it meanders. There's an old cliche that songwriter cabaret shows too often reflect, often referred to as the "And Then I Wrote..." syndrome. In other words, uninspired chronology. Well, Baby It's You could essentially be subtitled "And Then We Sang...," representing as it does just a seemingly random succession of un-integrated song hits, occasionally demonstrating some relevance to the story at hand, almost accidentally it seems.

When the authors run out of Shirelle hits, they pump up the score with other period songs, again with little justification to the plot except, "Here's another song that was on the radio at the same time." Seriously. And then a cast member impersonating Leslie Gore comes out to sing "It's My Party." Oy. I got so bored in the second act, I had to keep checking the Playbill to see how many songs were left. There were 21 separate numbers in act two alone. I repeat: Oy.

The show's narrator (the lazy writer's best friend) periodically announces the dates for the scenes and songs at hand, and lists off a bunch of pop-culture references from that time - not that any of the references have anything even remotely to do with the story. (e.g. Ricky Nelson, the Edsel, "Bonanza," Lenny Bruce, and...Redhead? Really? That's your idea of a Broadway data point that will quickly orient the audience as to time and place? Redhead?)

The dialog is of the uninspired sitcom variety, and even features a line brazenly stolen from "The Mary Tyler Moore Show." ("You wanna be a producer? OK, produce.") The authors' idea of humor runs toward the painful pun: one character defines "innuendo" as "an Italian suppository." In addition, the production features such unsubtle staging choices as an animated projection (the lazy set designer's best friend) of the Verrezano-Narrows Bridge creating a...well...a bridge between mother and son, positioned on opposite sides of the stage.

Playbill published a story today about how the producers of Baby It's You are being sued by Beverly Lee of The Shirelles, and by Dionne Warwick, who's also represented in the show. (Hey, why not? Everybody else is.) The formal complaint concerns "the unauthorized use of their names and likenesses."

They should be suing for defamation of character.

Comments

[Stanley Schweiger]

Chris -- If we're lucky, the show will close by Sunday, and we'll get a refund! My wife loved The Shirelles, but it sounds as though their music doesn't even take center stage! Oh well, you win some, you lose some! Take care!

[Daniel]

Chris,

So how was the audience taking it? Were they really eating it up? Close to sold out? Standing ovation? There have always been poorly done shows in the theatre--the real "sign of the apocalypse" is when audiences love such fare.

[ccaggiano]

Well, then the four horsemen are on their way, my friend. Cuz the crowd was eating it up.

But, in truth, I've seen a lot of atrocious musicals that the crowd was really enjoying:

- Happy Days
- The Pirate Queen
- Women on the Verge
- Dirty Dancing
- Starlight Express
- Lestat
- Frankenstein
- The Addams Family

I try not to think too much about financial success or pleasing the crowd. That's not my role. I try to gauge inherent quality and historic importance. Sometimes quality and success intersect, which is great. But for me, there are many wonderful shows that don't catch on, and lots of crappy ones that do.

[Robert]

There seems to be a scary trend this past year or so, of great performers in crappy shows. Women on the Verge, Catch Me if You Can, Wonderland, People in the Picture...

[Lucie]

It seems, today, the less savvy the theatre audience the quicker they are to stand up at the close of every musical. I think they never learned that a standing ovation is something a show or a certain performer EARNS. A lot of folks from "outside the biz" seem to think it is just required now. People, it's NOT.

[Rich]

Chris Caggiano looks rather young. He couldn't have been alive 1958-1962, the period covered by Baby it's You. The almost malicious trashing of the show proves he knows nothing about that era. Perhaps he's pretending to be a historian in the making. Big failure! Pretending to be a musical theater critic with no portfolio is even worse. Furthermore, pretending to be Jewish or even from New York carries no weight. A professor of music? Fantastic! Musical theater critic? Oy! People from that era are very special people with very special memories that no one can derail. Yes, we're probably hopelessly nostalgic but when a show moves the audience emotionally and psychologically, they've done a fine job — writers, producers, actors, the whole gang! Hearing the music of the Shirelles and the others is always wonderful but being able to see a live performance is heaven. On our 34th.wedding anniversary my wife and I enjoyed the production to the hilt. And yes, we stood at the end of the show because we got our money's worth. Nobody is a better critic than the rank and file theater lover him/herself. May the show live on and on!

[ccaggiano]

So, based on your logic, I would have to have been alive during the American Revolution in order to be able to write a review of the musical 1776. Or during Biblical times to write a review of Godspell. That doesn't make any sense.

Beyond that logic, my job as a critic is to judge the inherent quality of the show based on my own aesthetic. And based on that, Baby It's You fails miserably. Sure, other critics liked the show more than I did, but on the whole the critics were unkind to this show, and I think rightly so.

As a musical-theater historian, my job is to place the shows into historical context. And on that basis, the show represents a major regression to the days when songs popped up in shows for no apparent reason.

You're certainly free to enjoy Baby It's You, as is everyone else. But to call my credentials into question just because I didn't like a show that you did is rather churlish. And childish.

[Eric Henwood-Greer]

Spot on review--but I feel I have to mention that all the songs WERE at least from Florence's record label, Sceptor--so there's *some* connection anyway. Sorta. (And it's ironic that they can't use The Shirelles' greatest hit Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow because Carole King is saving it for a musical being made of the songs she wrote... )

[mel lissner]

Great enjoyable show. Not for the intellectual pedantic type. Just a feel good fun day at the theater. Fun music and inspiring story that was accurate for the times of the late '50's and '60's