For most musical-theater performers, Godspell is a rite of passage. Or at least it seems that way. I mean, is there any drama nerd out there who hasn't done Godspell? I suppose, perhaps, there must be, but I can't help shaking this notion that everyone who wants to perform in musicals has to have at least one Godspell under his or her belt.
I've performed in the show twice, both times while I was in high school. The first time was in my high school's acoustically challenged auditorium cum basketball court. The next was in a rather squat and dingy church basement. And yet, somehow, both experiences helped to solidify my resolve to pursue musical theater as an avocation, and, eventually, as an academic pursuit.
As a musical-theater piece, Godspell represents an accessible introduction to theater for young performers. The score is fun to perform, and the fragmented nature of the show lends itself to a lot of different staging approaches, production concepts, and theatrical devices:
- "We did the Good Samaritan with hand-puppets."
- "Everyone in the cast was represented by a light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and as each character caught on to what Jesus was talking about, his or her light bulb turned on."
- "We shot a video for our Prodigal Son at the beach, and then showed the film in performance."
- "Our Jesus was dressed like Michael Jackson, but at the end he turned into Bruce Springsteen."
And so on. But, as with so many things that we adored during our ever-receding formative years, there are certain youthful fascinations that simply don't hold up to clear-eyed, objective, modern-day scrutiny. And, at least for me, Godspell was better left a fond but fading theatrical memory than a multimillion-dollar commercial Broadway revival.
First, let's deal with the show itself. The book, as constructed by the late John-Michael Tebelak, is a seemingly random series of parables, adapted from the Gospel According to Matthew. Each vignette is certainly not without its charm or life lessons, but really the "book," such as it is, merely exists as a framework for the popular score, with music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz.
Again, I grew up on this show. In fact, the original cast recording to Godspell was one of the LP records that I discovered in my parents' ample but underutilized record collection, and was thus partially responsible for turning me into the musical maven that I am today. And, again, I have such fond memories of performing these songs back in the day. But, hearing them for the first time in years, and with new orchestrations, I was struck by how dense and impenetrable the lyrics to many of these songs really are, particularly "Bless the Lord," "Alas for You," and "We Beseech Thee." I found myself straining to figure out what the words actually mean, perhaps for the very first time. I mean:
I send you prophets, and I send you preachers
Sages in rages and ages of teachers
Nothing can mar your mood
- "Alas for You"
What exactly would marring a mood entail? And how does it pertain to the lawyers and pharisees in question?
Grant us all from earth to rise
And to strain with eager eyes
Towards the promised Heavenly prize
- "We Beseech Thee"
Grant us all what from earth to rise?
And like an eagle, He renews
The vigor of thy youth
- "Bless the Lord"
Um...eagles? Renewing vigor? Is that what they do?
Yes, I know, if I took another second, I could probably figure these lyrical enigmas out. But audiences don't have that chance during a musical performance. As Stephen Sondheim said recently at a talk that I attended, song lyrics are different from poems in that a song needs to make sense as you're hearing it. When you're reading a poem, you have a chance to stop and reflect about meaning.
So, as for quality musical-theater writing, Godspell is no great shakes, IMHO. But it seems as though the creators of the current revival of Godspell understood this going in and felt that they needed to shore up the show with a ceaseless, chirpy energy and non-stop gimmickry. For this Godspell is staged within an inch of its afterlife by director Daniel Goldstein and choreographer Christopher Gattelli. Admittedly the result is not unpleasant, and the production is certainly never dull. What it is, though, is relentless, and incessantly eager to please.
The production staff have augmented the show's book with a dizzying, and ultimately wearying, series of topical references. (e.g. Performers texting during "The Tower of Babble," the Electric Slide, the Chicken Dance, Pictionary, charades, references to Facebook, Donald Trump, the Occupy Movement, the "stimulus package," etc.) It's as though every inch of staging is trying to say, "Hey, this show is relevant!," but it only serves as a reminder that the original book was apparently not serving its purpose.
There are certainly some clever staging touches, including an on-stage pool for John the Baptist and his ministrations, which becomes the source of some really effective moments, including having Jesus walk on water and creating an ethereal glow for the Last Supper. And the staging for the crucifixion scene (I hope that's not a spoiler for anyone), was both simple and stunning. I wasn't quite sure what to make of the trampolines during "We Beseech Thee." It seemed like a fun idea at first, but the device was underutilized in terms of he movement/choreographic possibilities, and it wasn't clear what it was supposed to actually mean.
The cast was talented and game, although Hunter Parrish as the Man Himself was a bit too bland and, well, "Rock Me, Sexy Jesus" for my taste. His persona at the start of the show is rather cloying, and he couldn't really carry the drama in the second half. As for the supporting cast, most of these people would ideally be on Broadway at all times, but perhaps in more worthy vehicles. (Watching the show reminded me of the feeling that I get when I see reruns of "Pee-wee's Playhouse," with Laurence Fishburn as "Cowboy Curtis" and S. Epatha Merkerson as "Reba - the mail woman." Amazingly talented performers, earning a paycheck before they hit it big. It's almost as though you can see them saying in their heads, "It's a gig, man. It's a gig.")
Ensemble member Telly Leung has a sparkling voice, and does an uncanny series of terrific impersonations. Nick Blaemire proves himself a genuinely strong comedian and rather adept at accents. The adorable Lindsay Mendez has an appealing and lively presence even when she's not at the center of the action. Unfortunately, the phenomenally talented Uzo Aduba, who was simply mesmerizing in Prometheus Bound at the A.R.T., here fades rather facelessly into the ensemble.
Godspell has been playing to increasingly strong houses, although at significantly discounted rates. Will business build to the point where it can play through the notoriously barren winter months? Well, miracles do sometimes occur.
As our dear friend Brian says, "You have to do Godspell twice to get your Equity card. Once to do it and the second time to say, "The first time I did Godspell we......(fill in the blank or add bullets as Chris did!)
Ricky
Who has directed it three times and performed in it once!
Posted by: Ricky | November 27, 2011 at 07:43 PM
Fascinating. I want to see a really turned-on-its-head Godspell, but I think in a strange way, you've caught on to the reason we'll not see it. The (excellent) score. It's pretty "locked in" in character, isn't it? Not much wiggle room there. I remember a little bit of hype around the off-broadway revival 5-6 years ago and then getting the album and going, hmm. Sure, a little re-orchestration, but beyond that? Still sounds like Mae West singing Turn Back O Man, doesn't it?
That said, I find it fascinating that you attribute your discovery of the Godspell LP in your parents' record collection in part to your cognoscence of musical theatre. Cause mine started with my folks' LP of Hair. Family lore says that when I was four or five, I would wake up in the middle of the night, toddle downstairs, retrieve the LP, take it up to my close-and-play record player and blast Aquarius at all hours of the morning. And yes, I started to figure out what words mean, too, thanks to the help of the American Heritage Dictionary. But my words came from the fourth track of the Hair OBC album instead of the scripture-inspired lyrics of Godspell.
To each his own. :-)
Posted by: Scot Colford | November 27, 2011 at 08:46 PM
I think you know that the lyrics are adapted from The Book of Common Prayer. They made perfect sense to the average parishoner of 1789. :)
Seriously, though, I don't find those particular lyrics you cite to be all that problematic, particularly if you remember they are (adapted from?) liturgy.
The first is pretty straightforward: God sent people to warn the pharisees that their leadership was sending them down the road to ruin, but those warnings did not disrupt their festivities.
The second is pretty normal liturgical shorthand, where "grant us" means "God, please give us the ability to."
You've got me on the "like an eagle" thing, though.
Regardless, it seems to me that trying to make theatrical sense of liturgical lyrics is sort of missing the point of those songs and how they function in the show.
Posted by: David Levy | November 27, 2011 at 09:03 PM
Call me crazy but I have always had a problem with Stephen Schwartz because of the way he does his lyrics. I feel in every musical he has ever done, he words phrases into an odd formation, or uses complex analogies to express emotions. Unfortunately, I feel myself listening to his music repeatedly so i understand the meaning. I have always felt if Schwartz was willing to "dumb down" some of his lyrics, he would achieve a stronger emotional experience as well as songs that would be memorable to say the least. I have no problem with complex lyrics, but Schwartz has always made it TOO complex for me.
Posted by: -Rich | November 28, 2011 at 03:02 PM
Ricky, I will *never* forget your Pee-wee Herman impersonation during same.
Posted by: ccaggiano | November 28, 2011 at 03:13 PM
I'm with Rich, more or less - in that Schwartz all to often uses strange syntax or eccentric vocabulary (from "pelf"- which doesn't even RHYME with "wealth," by the way - to "verdigris") in songs that otherwise convey simple ideas and use simple words. Contrast this with Sondheim, who - at least in his mature work - saves the complex lyrics for complex situations and/or complex (or, at any rate, intellectual) characters.
At least in Godspell, many of the complex lyrics are from Scripture, or they are 19th or early 20th century hymn texts ("Bless the Lord" being an example of the latter) - but "Nothing can mar your moods" IS Schwartz, and typical - not completely undecipherable, but more concerned with clever alliteration than with accuracy or clarity of meaning. I can forgive this in a young hotshot prodigy, but it is distressing to me that Schwartz seems never to have outgrown writing lyrics that are more interested in calling attention to themselves, than in telling the story or delineating character (Wicked is full of examples)...
Posted by: Chris E. | December 05, 2011 at 12:04 AM
For what it's worth, the actual correct lyrics to "We Beseech Thee" are "Grant us HOPE from earth to rise." Stephen Schwartz took some of the lyrics from old Episcopal hymns and that whole stanza was lifted directly and it mirrored the "faith, hope, love" section of 1 Corinthians 13 in the Bible by having three stanzas starting "Grant us faith," "Grant us HOPE," "Grant us love." Google it. It's easy enough to find, as is Stephen Schwartz's interview about it. It drive me nuts. It's NOT "grant us ALL." It's "grant us HOPE."
Also, I've been in the show twice and I've never sung it "grant us ALL."
Posted by: cordelia | June 13, 2015 at 03:16 AM
I meant to add, too, the "eagles" reference, which is admittedly nonsensical as phrased, is likely taken from Isaiah 40:31: "but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary." I think that's the notion he's trying to express -- unsuccessfully.
As far as "nothing can mar your mood," it's weird phrasing for sure, but I believe "Jesus" here is talking to the Pharisees, the self-righteous religious of his day, and telling them that the real Truth can't break through to them. They're mired in religiosity, no matter what wisdom has been sent to them, and they can't be pulled out. Their "moods" can't be "marred."
Posted by: cordelia | June 13, 2015 at 11:13 AM