Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals

Review - A Christmas Story on Broadway

I love blogging. I love teaching. But they do tend to conflict with each other.

The two busiest times of the year for New York theater tend to be right before Christmas and then right before the Tony Awards in June. Unfortunately, these two times coincide with the end of the semester at the Boston Conservatory, where I teach full time. And, of course, school has to come first. (They pay me. Blogging doesn't.)

So, please forgive me, dear reader, as I start to play catch-up on some of the shows that I was able to see before final exams, but that I haven't yet had time to blog about. Two of those are unfortunately closed: Giant and Murder Ballad. But I do plan to weigh in on those shows, partly in anticipation of their upcoming cast recordings, but also toward the possibility of future productions of either, or both. I also caught a preview showing of the film version of Les Miserables earlier this week. Watch for my review sometime next week.

I figured the best way to start working through the backlog was to start with my review of a show that's still running, A Christmas Story. I must first confess that I've never really been a fan of the original "A Christmas Story" movie. I find it charmless and cloying, but I seem to be in the decided minority there. I also appear to be outnumbered in terms of critical response to the musical version, as the reviews were downright rapturous.

I think part of my nonplussed reaction to both the movie and the musical comes from the fact that I can't even begin to identify with little Ralphie in his all-consuming desire to receive a BB gun for Christmas. I also never really saw the tacky charm of the iconic leg lamp that the father receives as an award for a crossword contest. And the other iconic scene in which the poor young boy gets his tongue frozen to a flag pole seems not funny but cruel.

But, as I've said time and again, every musical ultimately comes down to execution, and I like to think that I went into the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre with as open a mind as possible. However, I found the whole production to be a distressingly run-of-the-mill affair, except perhaps for two rather buoyant production numbers. The staging for most of the numbers felt...well, staged. This was particularly true in "When You're a Wimp," in which the cartoon bullying felt as artificial as the snow decorating the stage. It felt as through we were watching a run-through and that at any minute director John Rando would step in and ask the kids to do it again, but this time really mean it. (Of course, this isn't really the kids' fault, but rather Rando's.)

As I said, there were two numbers that rose above the pedestrian, and one of those was, interestingly, "A Major Award," in which the protean and dynamic John Bolton, in the Darren McGavin role of "The Old Man," rejoices upon receiving the aforementioned leg lamp. The combination of Bolton's exuberance, Warren Carlyle's momentarily inspired choreography, and a whole slew of mini-leg lamps for the chorus, brought the father's joy to exhilarated life in a way that the movie never really did for me.

The other number that temporarily lifted the show above the serviceable was "You'll Shoot Your Eye Out," a fantasy sequence in which we are rather inexplicably transported from Ralphie's classroom to a speakeasy. (Is that really where nine-year-olds go on their flights of fancy?) Flimsy justification nothwithstanding, the number provided ample opportunity for the talented supporting cast to show off their tapping skills. I'm not usually one to respond to bald-faced showboating, but these kids were pretty sensational, particularly the phenomonal little scene-stealer Luke Spring, a preternaturally gifted little tapper. Simply amazing.

A Christmas Story represents the Broadway debut for the extremely promising writing team of Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, and I really wish I could say that their score here made more of an impression, particularly because their score to the recent Off-Broadway musical, Dogfight, was so strong. A Chistmas Story starts with a sprightly overture that promises much in the way of memorable melodies, but in performance the score just kind of sits there. I do, however, genuinely hope that we continue to see shows from Pasek and Paul make it to the professional stage. They're a talented pair of writers and have much to offer the musical form.

But, hey, what do I know, right? Most of the reviews for this show were positive love letters, and the grosses have been increasingly strong. I get the sense that we'll see A Christmas Story again in seasons to come.

 

Review - Bring It On: The Musical on Broadway

Like many of you, I'm sure, I was skeptical when I first heard that Bring It On: The Musical was to become a musical. "Great," I thought. "Another movie-to-musical franchise show." And we're not even talking a Steven Spielberg film or a Reese Witherspoon vehicle, but rather a middle-of-the-road teen flick that has since spawned seemingly countless straight-to-video sequels that aptly encapsulate the law of diminishing returns.

But then I heard about the creative staff that Bring It On was amassing, and I became increasingly intrigued: Jeff Whitty of Avenue Q on book, Tom Kitt (Next to Normal) and Lin-Manuel Miranda (In the Heights) on music, and Miranda and Amanda Green on lyrics. Plus, direction and choreography by Andy Blankenbuehler, also of In The Heights fame. That's some pretty high-powered creative right there, although as we know there are certainly no guarantees when it comes to musical theater.

Bring It On was initially announced as a touring production, with no specified plans for a Broadway run, but when the St. James Theater became available after the premature (IMHO) demise of Leap of Faith, the producers of Bring It On saw an opportunity and grabbed it. The show was originally scheduled for a three-month run, which has since been extended through the end of the year. The extension was no doubt a product of the enthusiastic audience response to the show, plus slowly building weekly grosses. 

And here's the thing: for once, I'm siding with the throng. Bring It On is an infectious joy of a show, well-crafted and ably performed. True, it has nothing on its mind that's any more complex than "Who's going to win the big cheer-leading competition?", but what's wrong with that? Youth-focused shows don't have to be dumb, or poorly crafted. Bring It On doesn't pretend to be anything more than it is, but the stagecraft, lyric writing, character development, and musical composition put the show head and shoulders above such uninspired movie adaptations as Sister Act and Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. 

The show starts a bit slowly, at least in terms of moving the story beyond the central female teen, Campbell, the new captain of the cheer-leading squad at Truman High School. Campbell, played with a winning and winsome charm by newcomer Taylor Louderman, begins the show with what are essentially two "I want" songs ("What I Was Born to Do" and "One Perfect Moment"), both of which get reprises within the first 15 minutes. OK, we get it. The kid wants to lead her squad into becoming the national champions. Do we need to say it four times?

But the show quickly broadens its focus to an appealing array of vivid characters. Bring It On is the show that Lysistrata Jones wished it could be: Lysistrata Jones was clever, Bring It On is smart. Both the story and the people who inhabit Bring It On have a fairly stock feel to them, but the creators have given them both depth and heart. Even the villain in the story (played by the marvelously perky and nuanced Elle McLemore) has a certain comic charm to her, although Whitty very wisely keeps us guessing until the middle of act 2 as to whether she's really plotting against our heroine or whether it's all in Campbell's mind. (Not unlike what Roman Polanski does in "Rosemary's Baby," if I may be so bold as to make such a seemingly bizarre comparison.) 

Bring It On also has a rousingly infectious score. From what I can surmise it appears that Kitt and Green have provided the pop songs, while Miranda has supplied songs reflecting his own particular brand of accessible hip-hop. It's a canny choice: the vastly different styles help differentiate the separate student populations therein, and emphasize the culture clash between the competing high schools. Among the most appealing of the songs are "Do Your Own Thing," which introduces the lead character, as well as the audience, to the culture shock that is Campbell's new high school.

And then there's the crowd-pleaser "Ain't No Thing," in which a transgender teen and his/her sassy friend instruct the spunky, hefty girl (the delightfully animated Ryann Redmond) on the joys of accepting who you are. It's really remarkable how off-handedly the show portrays the transgender character, acknowledging the difficulties, and yet allowing him/her to blend comfortably into the fabric of the school. Performer Gregory Haney adds immeasurably to this process by giving the character a fierce individuality that gets the entire audience rooting for this no-nonsense tiger of a teen.

One of the most pleasant surprises of Bring It On is director/choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler. His thrilling work on In the Heights was beginning to look like a one-time thing, after the ignominious misfire that was 9 to 5. Blankenbuehler's ebullient and idiomatic hip-hop style, which was so woefully out of place in 9 to 5, suits Bring It On to a T, and gives the production a joyous sense of effervescence. What's more, Blankenbuehler reveals himself as a sensitive and sharp director, helping the young cast craft indelible characterizations, bringing an exuberant theatricality to the show's presentation, and demonstrating a lively flare for dramatically effective stagecraft. Blankenbuehler may just be one of those choreographers who makes a successful transition to the elite club of theatrical auteurs.

Bring It On will doubtless enter the canon of shows performed regularly at the high school and college level, but you'd be a fool to wait. The Broadway cast and production, plus the fact that the show is still heavily discounting its tickets, make this particular production a must-see. Also, you're unlikely to see a subsequent production with cheering routines that are this athletic and genuinely exciting.

Review - La Cage aux Folles on Tour in Boston

The fall semester at the Boston Conservatory is over. ("Big breath in. And release.") Now I get a chance to catch up on some much-delayed blogging.

Among the numerous shows in my current blogging backlog is the Boston stop of the national tour of La Cage aux Folles. I was so enamored of Terry Johnson's heartfelt and smart production when it was on Broadway (read my review) that I went back to see it again when Harvey Fierstein took over for Tony Award winner Douglas Hodge (read my revisit review).

I didn't get to see Christopher Sieber as George on Broadway (I saw the George understudy right after Jeffrey Tambor bid the show a hasty adieu, and before Sieber signed on), but I was especially looking forward to seeing the always reliable and downright adorable Mr. Sieber play Albin/Zaza in the tour.

Fortunately, Sieber does not disappoint. Unfortunately, he's saddled with a costar who may just as well have stayed home with his tanning bed. But more on him later.

Christopher Sieber is simply delicious as Albin, wonderfully playful and mischievous, but with a strong sense of nobility when the need arises. As wonderful as he was as Albin, I can also see him bringing a warm sense of stability to playing the part of George. It's really a shame that cloning technology has not progressed to the point at which we could have Sieber play both roles, but alas we are stuck with George Hamilton, who, simply put, has absolutely no business being up on that stage.

I can't say I've followed Hamilton's career very closely, but I can imagine he was quite charming and engaging in his day. His day, it seems, has passed. At 72, Hamilton is leaden and soporific in a role that should be light and suave. You could see that he was trying to be animated (well, as much as his surgically augmented, gravity defying face would allow), but his line readings, when they weren't utterly incomprehensible, were at best wan and mumble-mouthed. 

I know that touring shows can benefit greatly from marquee-value headliners, but is this man really that much of a draw? How long has it been since he was culturally relevant, as opposed to a walking punchline? To me he's sort of like the Gabor sisters: you know he's famous, but you'll be damned if you can recall what for. Whatever reason the producers signed him up, his presence utterly deflates this delicate souffle of a production.

The La Cage tour is currently playing in Chicago, and has upcoming stops in Tampa, Pittsburgh, Houston, and Los Angeles, among many other stops. It's worth taking in for Sieber, without question, and the supporting cast members are professional, if indistinct. And, of course, there's Jerry Herman's witty and tuneful songs, although the orchestra in Boston was noticeably thin and tinny. And I don't usually notice these things. (Do I, Kevin?) So if I'm finding the orchestrations anemic, I can imagine that a real aficionado would be reaching for the iron supplements.

Review - West Side Story on Tour in Boston

West Side Story may be the best musical that I've never actually seen work on stage. I mean no disrespect to the piece itself, which I consider to be almost a masterpiece. (Read my review of the recent Broadway West Side Story revival). I've just never seen a production that did the piece full justice.

The score, with music by Leonard Bernstein and lyrics by a young Stephen Sondheim, may be the most moving and dramatically effective theater score of all time, despite flaws that Sondheim himself has pointed out in the lyrics. (Actually, he has called his West Side Story lyrics "embarassing.") The Jerome Robbins choreography ranks among the best ever created for a musical. And the libretto, by the recently deceased Arthur Laurents, actually in some ways improves upon its Shakespearean source by changing the primary motor of the tragedy from chance to racism.

So, West Side Story is a stunning piece of musical theater, without question one of the top 10 works in the musical-theater canon. (See my list of the 100 Best Musicals of All Time.)

But on stage, the piece has two significant liabilities, the first being the incredible challenge that it presents in terms of casting. I'm not just talking about the need for triple-threat actor/singer/dancers, although that's considerable, to be sure. I'm referring to the task of finding performers for the two central roles of Tony and Maria. Interestingly, Tony and Maria don't need to be great dancers, despite this being perhaps the ultimate dance show. But it's apparently a huge undertaking to find performers who can both do justice to Bernstein's score and provide the requisite depth of characterization to fully evince the pathos of the show's central relationship.

Case in point: the current national tour of West Side Story, which I caught on Tuesday night at the Colonial Theater in Boston. The tour features Kyle Harris and Ali Ewoldt as Tony and Maria, respectively, and in terms of their acting, both performers were top-notch. But Harris appeared to be having some vocal issues, which manifested themselves in extreme vibrato and cartoonish scooping. His "e" vowels during "Maria" were risibly wide and tall. Clearly the show is taking a toll on his instrument and he's had to compensate, but it was extremely distracting. Ewoldt's Spanish accent seemed rather off, and her singing, while considerably stronger than that of Josefina Scaglinone, who played the part on Broadway, had a sort of harsh edge to it, and she ran out of breath on some of the soft high notes.

And then there are the gang members. Has there ever been a production of West Side Story in which the Jets and the Sharks were convincingly menacing? I certainly haven't seen one. I suppose it would be well nigh on impossible to find a couple dozen outstanding dancers who were also physically imposing and...well...let's be frank, masculine. I suppose if you're going to err on one side, you might as well go for the best dancers, and thankfully the entire dance corps for the current tour is absolutely first-rate.

The other huge liability in West Side Story, at least from where I sit, is the "Somewhere" ballet, which I have always found unbearably quaint and precious. The movie version wisely cuts this segment, probably because it would have seemed too theatrical. But cutting it from the show would leave Act 2 without a major dance number. The movie solves this by moving "Cool" to a later point in the story, and changing the singer from Riff to Action. (Riff being...er...indisposed at this point in the story.) The impetus for this sequence is dramatically valid, but there's something about the execution that robs the second act of momentum and throws off the tone of the show.

The recent Broadway production gave the "Somewhere" vocal solo to a young boy, a character named "Kiddo" that Laurents created for this production, but who really didn't do anything else throughout the show. Having this young child suddenly burst upon the scene to sing "Somewhere" in a boy soprano voice was treacly and shudder-inducing. Thankfully, for the tour the producers decided that having a child along for the ride would prove logistically challenging, so the solo goes to the Anybodys character, played here by the kick-ass talented, fierce beyond words, Alexandra Frohlinger. (Full disclosure: Alex is a Boston Conservatory grad, and one of my former students. But she's still pretty frickin' fierce.)

One final note, about the much-discussed Spanish added to this production. As you may know, the late Arthur Laurents brought in Lin-Manuel Miranda, composer and lyricist of In the Heights, to translate a huge chunk of the show into Spanish. (Read my review of the West Side Story CD release for my take on Miranda's work here.) When I saw the show in DC, entire scenes and songs were in Spanish, including "America," "I Feel Pretty," and "A Boy Like That." It was a huge mistake, and robbed these important scenes of their dramatic weight.

The tour cuts back on the Spanish considerably, trying to strike a balance between realism and comprehension, but you could see the effort with every line that passed, and again, it was distracting and deleterious. In the theater, we have this convention in which foreign characters speak in English, and we just assume that they're actually speaking their native tongue. It was an admirable experiment on Laurents' part, but ultimately a failed one.

The West Side Story tour is currently booking through June of 2012, including upcoming dates in Minneapolis, Chicago, Dallas, Denver, Portland, and Seattle. Even with my above reservations, I recommend taking it in. You won't see finer dancing anywhere, and the score itself is worth the ticket price.

Review - Hair Tour in Boston (and Back on Broadway)

A few days ago, the good folks at the Public Theater announced that the national tour of Hair, currently wending its way across the country, would settle onto Broadway this summer for a ten-week limited engagement at the St. James Theatre, soon to be vacated by American Idiot.

It's a welcome bit of news, even more so since I had a chance to catch the Hair tour when it was in Boston, and I can happily report that the production is holding up quite well.

This is my third time seeing Diane Paulus's production of Hair, and each time I see it, I enjoy it even more. The show emits a wondrous morass of front-loaded energy, a warm and atmospheric microcosm that welcomes audiences into the show's affirming world. I've always found the piece itself somewhat problematic, but somehow Paulus smooths over the flaws, even making some of them into assets.

For instance, the show's first act is a bit plodding, featuring a succession of rapid-fire character introductions, and it gets a bit mechanical. But the sheer energy of the cast and the melodious nature of the score more than carry the day, turning what could potentially be repetitive into a welcome rush of warmth and exuberance. The show really gains momentum in act 2, in particular during Claude's hallucination, which builds in hypnotic power, and careens the audience head-long into the show's simple but shattering climax.

For some reason, I came into this particular version of Hair show with a chip on my shoulder. I genuinely enjoyed both the Central Park (read my review) and Broadway (read my review) versions, but the musical-theater historian in me wanted to pick the show apart and find the flaws. Despite my conscious efforts to remain analytical and objective, I found that I was getting caught up in the celebration, almost despite myself.

The flaws are nonetheless manifold. My main problem with Hair remains Claude's justification for eventually deciding to go to war. The show does a great job of showing that Claude is conflicted: he wants to please his parents, but he is also haunted by visions of what the war will actually be like. But we never really see him make the decision to go, nor do we fully understand his reasoning. Yeah, there's nothing wrong with subtlety, but at least in this regard the show crosses the line into inscrutability.

Also, some of the song setups are a bit forced, particularly the one for "Easy to Be Hard." Sheila buys Berger a yellow polyester shirt, which Berger proceeds to tear in half. So Sheila sings "How can people people so heartless." Well, boo-frickin'-hoo. Couldn't we come up with something a bit more compelling, guys? For me, the lame setup robs the powerful song of its full impact. And the song "Frank Mills," while charming, is rather pointless, and seems included here only to cover the costume change before the "Be-In."

And yet the show works, and smashingly so, carried by the luminous charm of Galt MacDermot's score and the sheer force of the talented performers currently appearing in the tour. Perhaps most remarkable is Steel Burkhardt as Berger, who is every bit as dynamic and engaging as Will Swenson was, perhaps even more so. On the debit side, we have Paris Remillard as Claude who can certainly sing the role, but doesn't really have the stage presence or emotional range of either Jonathan Groff or Gavin Creel, whom I saw as Claude in the Delacorte on Broadway productions, respectively.

Depending on my schedule and what else is playing this summer, I way have to take Hair in one final time. I keep finding new things to love in the show, despite my reservations and conscious efforts to deconstruct it. I do find it interesting to note that the show's creative staff, including MacDermot and librettists/lyricists Gerome Ragni and James Rado, weren't able to replicate their success with Hair, despite numerous attempts. (Dude? Via Galactica? The Human Comedy? Oh, please, my nerves...)

And I'm starting to get the same what-have-you-done-for-me-lately? feeling about Diane Paulus, who's now in the process of shaking the venerable A.R.T. to its very core. Her last two musical-theater efforts, The Blue Flower and Prometheus Bound, left me decidedly nonplussed, but based on the magic that is her production of Hair, I'm willing to patiently await the day when she gets her groove back.

Dreamgirls Tour in Boston

[As a service to my Boston-area readers, I'm reprinting here my review of the Dreamgirls tour, which is now appearing at the Colonial Theater. I saw this production in New York at the historic Apollo Theater, and highly recommend it. Enjoy. --C.C.]

Can a production be greater than the sum of its parts? That's the question that my fellow blogger Isaac Butler of Parabasis asks regarding the touring production of Dreamgirls, which is currently playing at the famed Apollo Theater in Harlem.

Isaac also helps administer the Critic-O-Meter blog, which summarizes the critical response to major shows on Broadway and off, and creates a summary score to reflect the general tenor of the reviews. In his compilation of the Dreamgirls reviews, Isaac marvels at how the critics can damn the production with faint praise, then turn around and recommend the show enthusiastically. He further speculates on his blog that this might stem from people's fondness for the show itself, the fact that the show is playing a fabled location, or that critics are holding the production to a lower standard because it's a touring production.

Well, I saw Dreamgirls at the Apollo Theater this past Saturday night, and I had the same reaction as many critics did. Yes, there were many individual aspects of the production that simply didn't work, but somehow overall it wound up being a blast to watch. Was my reaction based on my fondness for the show itself? I'm sure that was a factor. Was there something special about seeing the show at the Apollo, where the story of the show begins and ends? Unquestionably.

As to whether the show received a critical bye because it's a touring production, well, I can't speak for other critics, but I held Dreamgirls to the same standard I reserve for any professional show: Did I enjoy myself? Was I both moved and entertained? And did the production exhibit the professionalism I've come to expect from shows on the main stem? For me, the answers here were "yes," "yes," and "for the most part."

The greatest strengths of Dreamgirls as a show are its strong story, sympathetic characters, and great songs. Overall, it's a well constructed show, with numerous deftly crafted sequences, and a number of ingenious touches. One great example is the final tag to Act 1. Effie White has just performed this wrenching, showstopping solo, "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going," but Michael Bennett, the original director/choreographer, didn't let the act end there. He brought in the performing Dreams to steal the moment from Effie, to emphasize the extent of her loss. On top of her pain, she's already been dismissed and forgotten. It's a masterful touch.

And then there's "Family," which is such a heartwarming sequence, at least in context, in which Effie's friends reassure her that she's as much a part of this group as anybody else, as it were. But shortly thereafter, these exact same people who reassured her that she was indeed family are summarily kicking her out of the group in the show's most masterful extended sequence, "It's All Over." The show makes the transition believable by showing the tension build among the group to the point where we can empathize with all of the various parties, even as we feel for Effie's loss.

So, yeah, the show is very strong. As for this particular production, it was reassuring to see director/choreographer Robert Longbottom in a relative return to form after committing the atrocity that is the current Broadway revival of Bye Bye Birdie (read my review). After sitting through that abomination, I was ready to write Longbottom off, but based on Dreamgirls I'm willing to give him another chance, albeit provisional. His staging of "Steppin' to the Bad Side" was particularly good, incorporating both an appropriate sense of menace and a cute nod to Busby Berklee. On the other hand, his staging for "Move" and "One Night Only" was meh and double-meh, respectively.

When I first heard that this production would be adding the number "Listen" from the movie, I thought it was a bit on the gimmicky side. But you know what? The song really works in the context of the show. It comes when Deena and Effie meet for the first time in years. In the course of the number, Deena apologizes for the way she treated Effie, and Effie exhorts Deena to leave her louse of a husband. The vocals got a bit screechy for my taste, as did much of the singing in the second act, but the dramatic effect of the song was stunning. 

The current cast features a number of very strong performers, particularly Chester Gregory as James "Thunder" Early. Gregory was simply terrific, with a great stage presence and a dynamite James Brown falsetto, but he also manages to make Jimmy very sympathetic. It looks as though Gregory really dodged a bullet when he was let go from Shrek and replaced by the Daniel Breaker as Donkey, because Jimmy Early is a much better showcase for his talents.

Toward the beginning of the show, Moya Angela made for a really kick-ass Effie White, but for me she got a bit one-note bitter in the second act. But the only really sour note among the cast was Chaz Lemar Shepherd, who was far too slimy as Curtis. There was no charm to his performance, which made it hard to see why all of these people would place so much faith in him, and find him so attractive. Plus, his wig was a skanky, ratty mess. In fact, all of the male wigs were rather unattractive. I'm sure they were period-appropriate, but sometimes aesthetics needs to trump fidelity.

So, yeah, I had a lot of minor issues with various aspects of the production, but on the whole I enjoyed myself immensely. The Dreamgirls tour will be passing through quite a few major cities over the next 8 months, including Boston, Philadelphia, Seattle, Los Angeles, Portland, Chicago, and Minneapolis. Sure, it won't be the same as seeing it at the Apollo, but there's a lot more to this production than mere geographic synergy. A lot more.

Review - In the Heights at Boston's Opera House

At some point each semester, I posit to my students that there is no such thing as a perfect musical. I then challenge them to name one that they think is perfect, and we discuss. We can usually find a flaw in almost any show, whether it's My Fair Lady, Guys and Dolls, or even Gypsy.

One show that came up in our discussion this past fall was In the Heights. I think that the student who proposed the show thought that she had stumped the band, as it were. Instead, I said, "Oh, honey, where do I start?"

When I first saw In the Heights Off-Broadway, I found it a well-intentioned cartoon, full of unconvincingly noble characters, manufactured complications, and pat resolutions. (Read my Off-Broadway review.) Before the show moved to the Richard Rodgers Theater, the production staff made some fairly significant changes, and when I saw the show again on Broadway, I found myself genuinely enjoying the show, caught up in the sheer energy of the proceedings. (Read my Broadway review.)

After seeing the national tour of In the Heights, which plays through January 24th at Boston's Opera House, my view of the show has shifted a bit closer to my original reaction. There must have been something about the Broadway production that momentarily blinded me to the show's flaws, which are numerous. There's no question that In the Heights has its heart in the right place, and that Lin-Manuel Miranda has created a tuneful and vivacious score for the show. And director Thomas Kail and choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler have crafted no fewer than three stunning set pieces for the show: "96,000," "The Club/Blackout," and the fun but superfluous "Carnaval Del Barrio." All are exceedingly well-staged, masterfully weaving in the various stories and characters.

But In the Heights is still -- you should pardon the expression -- a whitewashed version of Washington Heights reality. The show is rarely dull, often engaging, but overly earnest, and, despite the Salsa beat and pop-and-lock dance moves, a bit timeworn and predictable. 

Moreover, the tour performers can't hold a candle to the original Broadway cast. Yes, comparisons are odious and unfair. But there wasn't a single person on stage at the Opera House last night who had the stage presence, the likability, or the vocal talent of his or her Broadway counterpart. I brought one of my students with me to the show last night, a young woman who was very enamored of the Broadway production, and the first words out of her mouth at intermission were something to the effect of, "Wow, this totally doesn't work unless you have the right people." 

Of course, most people won't be in the position of having seen the original Broadway cast, as my student and I had. And for someone who's never seen the show before, the tour cast is certainly professional. In the Heights, while flawed, is an engaging night at the theater, full of charm and warmth, and a lot of really kick-ass dancing. But, although the show won the Tony Award, it was not IMHO the best musical of the 2007-2008 season. Anyone interested in seeing two arguably better shows can rent or buy the recently released DVD of Passing Strange, or check out the national tour of Xanadu. Two radically different shows, to be sure, but each in its way superior to In the Heights.

NOTE: New Federal Trade Commission (FTC) regulations require bloggers to disclose when they accept anything of material value related to their blog posts. I received complimentary press tickets to this performance of In the Heights.

Oh, Yeah. Shrek Is Closing, Too

It suddenly occurred to me that Shrek is closing today and that I hadn't really made much mention of it, other than a Twitter post when the closure announcement first came. Kinda tells you something about the lasting impression that the show has made on my consciousness.

As I said I my review, I actually sort of enjoyed Shrek, particularly the talented cast of Broadway stalwarts, including Brian d'Arcy James, Christopher Sieber, Sutton Foster, and relative newcomer Daniel Breaker. The show was reasonably entertaining, although there were some rather poorly staged sequences when I saw the show early in previews.

The main problem for me was, and remains, the lackluster songs by Jeanine Tesori and David Lindsay-Abaire. Other than "I Know It's Today," there really isn't any song in the show that has stuck, for me at least. I think if the score had been more overtly tuneful and memorable, Shrek might have been a winner. The story is certainly very strong, the cast was exemplary, and most of the production elements were solidly in place. "Family" shows really live or die based on the appeal of the actual songs in the show, and Shrek just didn't have the "wow" factor in the score department. 

I'll be very interested to see if David Lindsay-Abaire continues to get offers to write musicals. Both Dreamworks and Disney have had mixed results in bringing on the pedigree playwrights to work on their would-be blockbusters. Experience seems to have shown that writing a mass-appeal musical (Shrek) is quite different from crafting a Pulitzer-Prize-winning drama (Rabbit Hole). Doug Wright (I Am My Own Wife) had similar challenges with The Little Mermaid, although he did fare much better with Grey Gardens. And David Henry Hwang (M. Butterfly) has likewise met with both relative success (Aida) and a decided lack thereof (Tarzan). So, I don't think we're going to see these guys disappear entirely from musical creative rosters, but producers will likely think more carefully before they blithely assume that the skill sets for crafting effective plays and winning librettos are necessarily transferable.

Next up at the Broadway Theater was supposed to be the upcoming revival of Promise, Promises, directed and choreographed by Rob Ashford, with Sean Hayes as Chuck, Kristin Chenoweth as Fran, Brooks Ashmanskas as Dobitch, Katie Finneran as Marge MacDougall, and Tony Goldwyn as Sheldrake. But I've heard (totally unsubstantiated) rumors that the producers are looking for a different venue. Perhaps, now that more theaters are starting to open up -- including the Neil Simon, the St. James, the Marquis, and the Golden -- the producers are looking for something a bit more intimate than the barn that is the Broadway. Andrew Lloyd Webber is said to have his eye on the Neil Simon for Love Never Dies, and the Golden is probably way too small. But the St. James and the Marquis are certainly possibilities.

As for Shrek, Dreamworks has been very tight-lipped about the total cost for the production, but it's very likely to be well north of $20 million, perhaps even $25 million, given the weekly operating losses the show has reportedly been incurring. There's no way the show recouped on Broadway, but a national tour will embark this summer. Might Shrek eke out a profit in the provinces, much as Disney is (realistically?) hoping to do with The Little Mermaid and Mel Brooks is (laughably?) hoping to do with Young Frankenstein? If I find out, you, dear reader, will be the first to know.

Review: 101 Dalmatians at Boston's Wang Theater

It appears that I may have been a tad premature in creating my list of The Worst Musicals of the 2000s. Another worthy addition rolled into town last night for a seven-performance run at Boston's Wang Theater at the Citi Center for the Performing Arts. Upon reflection, I would probably place The 101 Dalmatians Musical at #10, right between Saved and 9 to 5.

Not to be confused with the 1961 animated feature "101 Dalmatians," nor the 1996 film with Glenn Close, this 101 Dalmatians is based on the 1956 novel by Dodie Smith, and has nothing to do with Disney. Which is too bad, because even Disney stage shows at their worst have more dramatic cohesiveness, more interesting songs, and more genuine artistry than the bland, unmemorable musical that BT McNicholl and Dennis DeYoung have slapped together.

If the name Dennis DeYoung sounds familiar, it's probably he was a founding member and songwriter for the band Styx, and was responsible for such bland ballads as "Babe" and "Come Sail Away" as well as the jaw-droppingly awful "Mr. Roboto." The songs in 101 Dalmatians aren't exactly awful, but they're not very memorable either, but rather generic and removable. What's worse, McNicholl doesn't seem to know how to properly set the songs up: the purpose of the numbers is often unclear, and the scenes leading into them are poorly developed.

How did this first draft of a show ever get a full production? The idea for the show is fine, but the book is clumsy and there's not one song that should have made it past a backers' audition. The first act is pedestrian but never dull, getting through the well-worn story in an efficient if uninspired fashion. But act 2 is just plain tedious. The central two dogs, Mr. and Mrs. Pongo, find and rescue their stolen puppies very early in the act, and spend the rest of the show trying to get home. In the meantime, we're subjected to a succession of would-be showstoppers, including "Crime of Our Lives" for the henchmen, a mediocre song with horrid staging. Then, for some reason, in the middle of act 2 the dogs meet up with a band of gypsies who put them into their traveling show. The resulting number, "Spot On," is full of labored dalmatian puns and lots of energetic business, but fails to achieve its desired 11 o'clock-number status.

It's really hard to believe that this show had Tony Award-winning director Jerry Zaks at the helm, mostly because it's replete with blindingly obvious directorial missteps. For instance, when Pongo and the Mrs. find their pups, they wait patiently upstage until their kids finish the song that they're in the middle of. These are two parents who've just found their kidnapped children, not two yuppies picking their kids up after a play date. In another scene, Cruella DeVille (played with relish by the always delightful Rachel York) busts in through a barn door, then leaves it open behind her. One of the dogs, who's standing right in front of the open door, waits until Cruella is finished singing before bolting. I'm sorry, but that's like Directing 101, folks. The production is also full of lazy dramatic devices, such as a narrator to fill in plot holes, miniature puppets to condense action sequences, and a large illuminated map to show the pilgrim's progress up and down the English countryside.

Still, the production isn't a complete disaster. It's actually pretty neat how they incorporate the real dogs into the show, having them run across the stage before the actors to create a sense of canine continuity. And the production concept of having the humans on stilts and skewing the set from the dogs' perspective was clever and effective. But the show as a whole was pretty darned feeble. Someone might say, "Well, it's just a kids' show." So, does that mean we should suspend critical judgment? I think we should hold children's entertainment to an even higher standard. Anything less would be patronizing and insulting to their intelligence.

The most offensive aspect of the show came at the top of Act 2, when the doggie narrator came out in front of the curtain eating out of a bag of the sponsor's dog food. (I won't even mention the name of the company. They ain't getting any plug from this blogger.) As he munched, he was talking about how it's high in protein, and gives you a shiny coat, or some such blather. Oh, I can just see that marketing meeting:

"OK, folks, let's do some brainstorming. How can we create greater brand synergy here?"
"Could we maybe put our logo on the costumes?"
"No, I think that might just cross the line. We're not a sports team, you know."
"How about a song about the nutritional benefits of our product?"
"I'll have to talk to Dennis and BT about that, but these genuine artistes we're talking about here."
"Well, what if the narrator came out eating kibble at the top of act 2?"
"I love it! Simple, tasteful. Jones, you may just get a promotion for this..."

Die, marketer, die.

Dreamgirls Tour at the Apollo Theater

Can a production be greater than the sum of its parts? That's the question that my fellow blogger Isaac Butler of Parabasis asks regarding the touring production of Dreamgirls, which is currently playing at the famed Apollo Theater in Harlem.

Isaac also helps administer the Critic-O-Meter blog, which summarizes the critical response to major shows on Broadway and off, and creates a summary score to reflect the general tenor of the reviews. In his compilation of the Dreamgirls reviews, Isaac marvels at how the critics can damn the production with faint praise, then turn around and recommend the show enthusiastically. He further speculates on his blog that this might stem from people's fondness for the show itself, the fact that the show is playing a fabled location, or that critics are holding the production to a lower standard because it's a touring production.

Well, I saw Dreamgirls at the Apollo Theater this past Saturday night, and I had the same reaction as many critics did. Yes, there were many individual aspects of the production that simply didn't work, but somehow overall it wound up being a blast to watch. Was my reaction based on my fondness for the show itself? I'm sure that was a factor. Was there something special about seeing the show at the Apollo, where the story of the show begins and ends? Unquestionably.

As to whether the show received a critical bye because it's a touring production, well, I can't speak for other critics, but I held Dreamgirls to the same standard I reserve for any professional show: Did I enjoy myself? Was I both moved and entertained? And did the production exhibit the professionalism I've come to expect from shows on the main stem? For me, the answers here were "yes," "yes," and "for the most part."

The greatest strengths of Dreamgirls as a show are its strong story, sympathetic characters, and great songs. Overall, it's a well constructed show, with numerous deftly crafted sequences, and a number of ingenious touches. One great example is the final tag to Act 1. Effie White has just performed this wrenching, showstopping solo, "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going," but Michael Bennett, the original director/choreographer, didn't let the act end there. He brought in the performing Dreams to steal the moment from Effie, to emphasize the extent of her loss. On top of her pain, she's already been dismissed and forgotten. It's a masterful touch.

And then there's "Family," which is such a heartwarming sequence, at least in context, in which Effie's friends reassure her that she's as much a part of this group as anybody else, as it were. But shortly thereafter, these exact same people who reassured her that she was indeed family are summarily kicking her out of the group in the show's most masterful extended sequence, "It's All Over." The show makes the transition believable by showing the tension build among the group to the point where we can empathize with all of the various parties, even as we feel for Effie's loss.

So, yeah, the show is very strong. As for this particular production, it was reassuring to see director/choreographer Robert Longbottom in a relative return to form after committing the atrocity that is the current Broadway revival of Bye Bye Birdie (read my review). After sitting through that abomination, I was ready to write Longbottom off, but based on Dreamgirls I'm willing to give him another chance, albeit provisional. His staging of "Steppin' to the Bad Side" was particularly good, incorporating both an appropriate sense of menace and a cute nod to Busby Berklee. On the other hand, his staging for "Move" and "One Night Only" was meh and double-meh, respectively.

When I first heard that this production would be adding the number "Listen" from the movie, I thought it was a bit on the gimmicky side. But you know what? The song really works in the context of the show. It comes when Deena and Effie meet for the first time in years. In the course of the number, Deena apologizes for the way she treated Effie, and Effie exhorts Deena to leave her louse of a husband. The vocals got a bit screechy for my taste, as did much of the singing in the second act, but the dramatic effect of the song was stunning. 

The current cast features a number of very strong performers, particularly Chester Gregory as James "Thunder" Early. Gregory was simply terrific, with a great stage presence and a dynamite James Brown falsetto, but he also manages to make Jimmy very sympathetic. It looks as though Gregory really dodged a bullet when he was let go from Shrek and replaced by the Daniel Breaker as Donkey, because Jimmy Early is a much better showcase for his talents.

Toward the beginning of the show, Moya Angela made for a really kick-ass Effie White, but for me she got a bit one-note bitter in the second act. But the only really sour note among the cast was Chaz Lemar Shepherd, who was far too slimy as Curtis. There was no charm to his performance, which made it hard to see why all of these people would place so much faith in him, and find him so attractive. Plus, his wig was a skanky, ratty mess. In fact, all of the male wigs were rather unattractive. I'm sure they were period-appropriate, but sometimes aesthetics needs to trump fidelity.

So, yeah, I had a lot of minor issues with various aspects of the production, but on the whole I enjoyed myself immensely. The Dreamgirls tour will be passing through quite a few major cities over the next 8 months, including Boston, Philadelphia, Seattle, Los Angeles, Portland, Chicago, and Minneapolis. Sure, it won't be the same as seeing it at the Apollo, but there's a lot more to this production than mere geographic synergy. A lot more.

Avenue Q at the New World Stages

When Avenue Q opened last week at its new Off-Broadway home, the New World Stages, a lot of people in the theatrical community were paying close attention. Of course, it's a much-beloved show, and many are simply wishing it well. (Except, perhaps, the producers of Wicked, from whose verdant hands Avenue Q so summarily snatched the Best Musical Tony in 2003.)

But the main point of interest seems to be how well Avenue Q will do financially after making this unusual move. It's not entirely unprecedented for a Broadway show to move Off Broadway, but it's certainly rare. And if Avenue Q succeeds, we can probably expect other small shows to follow suit. There's talk that The 39 Steps will make a similar move after it closes at year's end at the Helen Hayes. Perhaps Next to Normal and Rock of Ages might consider returning to their Off Broadway roots after their respective Broadway stints have run their course.

I've been enamored of Avenue Q ever since I caught one of its Broadway previews back in 2003. I've subsequently seen the show on tour (read my review), and then revisited the Broadway production shortly before it closed (read my review). And, over the weekend, I caught the show once again at its new digs. And I'm happy to say that the show has lost none of its charm upon multiple viewings. Of course, part of the fun for me the last two times is that I saw the show with friends, and got to witness their delighted reactions to the show upon their first viewings. But even when I saw the show solo on tour, I was still caught up in the response of the rest of the audience.

The performance of Avenue Q that I saw over the weekend featured three understudies, indicating that even Off Broadway shows are not immune to the scourge of absenteeism that seems to be sweeping New York theater. Fortunately, the standbys were mostly stellar, particular the charming Jed Resnick as Princeton/Rod and the delightful Ruthie Ann Miles as Christmas Eve.

The more I see Avenue Q, the more I'm struck not just by its wit, but also by its wisdom. Yeah, I know, that sounds pretty pretentious. But there's so much about the show that's just plain smart, from the wistful nostalgia of "I Wish I Could Go Back to College" to the downright Buddhist quality of "For Now." So I wish the show well in its latest incarnation, and strongly recommend that you make your way to 50th Street, between 8th and 9th to catch the show, if you haven't already.

Or even if you have.

9 to 5 Will Close September 6th

Today's New York Post ran a pointlessly snarky column by Michael Riedel announcing the imminent closure of the Broadway musical 9 to 5, probably around Labor Day. Of course, this was before the producers had a chance to break the news to the cast before today's matinee, but that didn't seem to matter to Miss Riedel.

Then, later in the day, came the official announcement, which ran on Playbill.com and other online sites, that 9 to 5 would indeed be closing, specifically on September 6th. At that time, the show will have played 148 performances and 24 previews, which makes it likely that the producers will have lost their entire investment, which is rumored to have been about $14 million.

I must admit that it's a bit two-faced of me to admonish La Riedel for dumping on 9 to 5. For weeks, as I've pored through the Broadway grosses, I've been predicting in my Twitter updates that the show would be shuttering soon. After all, 9 to 5 has been playing to about 70% capacity with and average ticket of around $70. And this is during the summer, when New York is teeming with pleasure-seeking tourists. Plus, 9 to 5 has been grossing around $700,000 a week at a time when no fewer than ten Broadway productions are bringing in $1-million plus. And even if $700k is enough to meet the show's weekly nut, that amount would likely plummet come fall, much like what happened to Legally Blonde last year, precipitating the show's October 2008 demise.

Now, I didn't much care for 9 to 5 when I saw it in April. (Read my review.) I found it to be a middling entry in the movies-into-musicals genre, ranking somewhere below Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and The Wedding Singer. But I know a number of people who enjoyed 9 to 5, including my esteemed blogger buddies Esther and Steve. (Click on their names for their respective takes on 9 to 5.) And there was much to appreciate in the show's central trio of performers: Allison Janney, Stephanie J. Block, and Megan Hilty. So I take no great pleasure in seeing 9 to 5 close, although I genuinely wish that the show had been better.

As always, with the closure announcement for 9 to 5, came word that the show will launch a tour. I definitely see this happening; the movie has a sufficient fan base that the musical version will likely attract decent crowds in the provinces, although I can't really seeing it making more than one nationwide sweep. Those who aren't able to catch the show before it closes, or won't get to see the tour, will have to make do with the 9 to 5 cast recording, which came out yesterday. I haven't received my copy yet, but I'm hoping the Dolly Parton songs hold up better than they did in the theater. After all, she's the person who turned a so-so song ("I Will Always Love You") from a pretty bad movie ("The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas") into a veritable goldmine. The self-described "Backwoods Barbie" will rise again.

Rent National Tour with Pascal and Rapp

What a difference a city block makes. As I posted about over the weekend, I saw the national tour of Jersey Boys at Boston's Shubert Theater on Friday night. (Read my review.) Then last night at the Colonial I caught the latest national tour of Rent. Yeah, those are two fairly disparate shows, but the biggest difference was in the audiences.

Whereas the Jersey Boys crowd comprised mostly 40+ suburban married couples, the Rent crowd was dominated by teenagers, with a liberal sprinkling of tweens. It was as though the parents had dropped off their offspring at the Colonial on their way to the Shubert. It struck me that most of these kids were probably in their infancy when Rent first opened in 1996. I think that actually bodes well for the future of musical theater, provided of course that we can keep coming up with more shows like Rent and Spring Awakening to lure in the kids.

As for the Rent tour, the key drawing point seemed to be the presence of original cast members Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp, who were both greeted with squeals of delight upon their entrances. Pascal was either deliberately underplaying or bored, which was fine with me, because it seemed to temper his penchant for emotional excess and vocal mannerisms. There were some "American Idol" touches in his songs: instead of resolving at the end of "One Song Glory," he went up a third and held the note, to the palpable delight of the pubescent crowd. But for the most part, Pascal was somewhat restrained, and remains in very strong voice. Rapp seemed as though he was actively trying to find ways to keep the piece fresh for himself, changing his line readings, back phrasing in some of his solo moments. Rapp has it a bit tougher, as the role of Mark is really the most underwritten in the show. But he did seem a bit more willing to interact with the other performers, which Pascal seemed to be avoiding.

I've written quite a bit about Rent on this blog, so I won't repeat what I've said before. When the producers announced last year that the Broadway production would close, after twelve years and 5,124 performances, I wrote about certain flaws I saw in the show, as well as my own strong personal connection to Rent. I also posted a review of the cinecast version of Rent, which subsequently came out on DVD, a version that far surpasses the lackluster Chris Columbus movie version of "Rent."

But last night, I found myself developing an even greater appreciation for the strength of the piece. The late Jonathan Larson proved himself a marvelous tunesmith in his short career, but also displayed a deft touch for character illumination. For instance, in the rousing "Out Tonight," coming at a point in the first act where we really need an energy boost, we also get the introspective bridge in which Mimi offers a glimpse of her impoverished upbringing and her urge to medicate it away:

Can't sleep in the city of neon and chrome
Feels too much like home
When the Spanish babies cry
So let's find a bar
So dark we forget who we are
Where all the scars from the
Nevers and maybes die

Larson also proved himself a diligent student of musical-theater devices, such as the dramatically meaningful reprise. The song "I'll Cover You" works really well in its initial incarnation, providing shorthand justification for the rather instantaneous Collins/Angel relationship. But then the second act we get the reprise, which a mournful Collins sings in response to Angel's passing, which for me is one of the most powerful moments in musical-theater history.

Many people have found fault with the admittedly manipulative ending, in which Mimi seems to magically come back to life, with a message from Angel, no less. I'll admit, it's pretty cheap. But, you know what? It works. It's Larson's way of saying, "This isn't La bohème. It doesn't have to end with everybody dead. There is actually hope for the future." As artificial as it might seem, I think that note of hope is one of the reasons people respond to Rent so fervently. And that most certainly includes me.

Jersey Boys Tour at Boston's Shubert Theater

What a treat to walk through Boston's theater district last night and see it bustling with activity. True, only two of the theaters were occupied by actual theatrical events: the national tour of Jersey Boys at the Shubert and that of Rent, which features original cast members Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp, at the Colonial. (I'll be seeing the latter tomorrow night. Watch for my review.) The Wang was occupied by Steely Dan, and the Wilbur was hosting comedian Joy Behar. But for a second there, I could have sworn I was on 44th Street between 8th and Broadway.

It was likewise a pleasure to see the venerable Shubert occupied by a professional touring company. Lately, it's been relegated to second-tier status as a theater, hosting a local opera company and some dance performances. How keenly I recall seeing a wide variety of touring shows there during my high school and college years, including They're Playing Our Song, Evita, and Les Miserables. I also have fond memories of the occasional out-of-town tryout, such as Rags, Big Deal, or Dreamgirls. The last show I saw there before last night was Rent during its first national tour in the late '90s.

So I entered the Shubert with a keen sense of nostalgia, which is pretty darned appropriate given that I was there to see Jersey Boys, a show that veritably reeks of same. When I saw Jersey Boys on Broadway, with the original cast, I appreciated the show's slick presentation, but found it missing an emotional center. (Read my review.) I caught the show again last fall in Las Vegas, and had a very similar reaction. (Read my review.)

But as I sat watching the show last night, I found myself at first begrudgingly admitting that the show is extremely well crafted and executed, and then gradually and genuinely enjoying the ride. (Perhaps I've finally let go of the umbrage I felt when Jersey Boys won the best musical Tony over The Drowsy Chaperone.) The Jersey Boys book by Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice is a model of economy, providing just enough context to put the goings-on into perspective. There's also plenty of humor and pathos in evidence. Add in Des McAnuff's swift direction and Sergio Trujillo's sharp staging, and you have about as entertaining a show as you could reasonably imagine. No, Jersey Boys is no world-changer. But it manages to convey the admittedly quotidian story of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons with heart and showmanship.

Brickman and Elice, in particular, really know how to build excitement, as they do so ably in the dialog leading up to both "Sherry" and "Can't Take My Eyes Off You." Of course, it doesn't hurt that Bob Gaudio's songs are just so frickin' great. I defy you not to feel chills when the first few chords of the latter song start in. And there's something inexplicably thrilling about watching the horn section walk in step across the catwalk during the iconic buildup to the song's "I love you baby..." refrain. It gets me every time.

No doubt director McAnuff had a strong hand in some of the smart choices that the show exhibits, including songs when the show needs them, as well as stage business and dialog interwoven to give the songs some weight. McAnuff also displays a fine touch for simple but effective staging choices, such as having characters (wives, girlfriends, daughters) walk across the set's catwalk when they're leaving someone's life, back-lit from stage left as they exit, as well as having Valli face upstage with his back to the audience during a pivotal and emotional scene in the second act. Overall my third viewing of this show brought me closer to an appreciation of Jersey Boys as a truly remarkable achievement.

But I think the main reason that this was the best of the Jersey Boys productions that I've seen is Joseph Leo Bwarie as Frankie Valli. Bwarie not only had the Valli impersonation down to a T, he also brought an understated intensity and a very amiable quality to the role. Bwarie renders credible both the unassuming and mensch-like qualities of Valli in the book scenes, as well as the dynamic, born-to-perform nature of Valli when he starts to sing Gaudio's amazing catalog.

Jersey Boys does suffer from a few minor missteps. The show does an admirable job of weaving in the hits of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons, but I'm sort of at a loss to explain why the group sings "Rag Doll" at their induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. OK, sure, perhaps that's simply the song they sang at that particular performance, but in a show that seems to amply justify nearly every song, that song sticks out as inexplicable. A quibble, to be sure. 

Some of my fellow bloggers have commented as to how they don't really consider Jersey Boys to be a musical. I'm going to need to respectfully disagree with my esteemed friends and colleagues. First, as I've stated before, my attitude is that a "musical" is defined by its creators. As long as the people who put the show together consider it a musical, then I'm all for calling that show a musical. So, yes, Contact is a musical. So are Movin' Out, Ain't Misbehavin', and even [shudder] Dirty Dancing. The question is: Are they any good? Some of the aforementioned shows are very good indeed, Contact and Ain't Misbehavin', in particular. Whereas Dirty Dancing is an utter abomination, an affront to mankind, and a pestilent scourge on the theatrical landscape. (Read my review of Dirty Dancing.) 

Call Jersey Boys anything you want. What it is, at least from my perspective, is a fitting tribute to a beloved singing group, and one of the most all-around entertaining shows to come around in many a season.

The Color Purple National Tour

I finally got around to seeing The Color Purple last night, and in retrospect I can't really understand why it took me so long. I wasn't initially interested in seeing it on Broadway, probably because I'm really not a fan of Stephen Spielberg's cartoonish movie version.

When I did get a ticket to see the show, I got stuck in traffic and missed the performance. By the time I got around to taking advantage of the Broadway Theater's past dating procedures, the show had closed. So, I as glad to see that national tour would be making a stop at Boston's cavernous Wang Theater. (OK, Joseph, that's your cue to giggle.) 

The key strength of the show lies in its book, by Marsha Norman (The Secret Garden, 'night, Mother). The show starts off with a slightly muddled opening sequence involving a church service, soloist, and chatty church ladies singing "Mysterious Ways," a gospel number of questionable relevance. Interspersed throughout the song are little scene-letts that introduce the main characters, but if you hadn't read the book, or seen the movie, you might be confused at this point as to whom the show is really about.

But the book eventually settles into a vibrant telling of a compelling story. Norman crafts some masterful sequences, including one that juxtaposes a raid on an African village with the beating of one of the main characters, emphasizing the ubiquity of black suffering at the hands of callous whites in the early 20th century. 

My chief complaint with the show lies in its bland, unmemorable score, with music and lyrics by Brenda Russell, Allee Willis and Stephen Bray. Among the three of them, the only person who has any other Broadway credits is Willis, who provided additional lyrics for the disastrous Hot Feet. The lack of theatrical experience shows. Most of the songs never rise above serviceable, although some are pleasant enough, particularly the touching "Too Beautiful for Words." But somehow the show still works with an unremarkable score, which is a credit to the power of Alice Walker's original novel, as well as the skill of book-writer Norman and her able director, Gary Griffin.

I did have some quibbles with the show. There are some awkward scene tags, some sequences that go on too long, and a second act that loses momentum toward the end. But the emotional ending is a real tearjerker, and I for one was tremendously moved. And props to Norman and company for addressing the lesbian love story head-on, rather than wussing out, as Spielberg did with the movie. 

Although I would really have loved to have seen Tony-winning LaChanze play the role of Celie, the delightful Kenita Miller does a bang-up job with the role, spanning forty years of Celie's growth and blossoming with passionate aplomb. Also on hand from the original cast were the sassy Felicia Fields as Sofia and charming Brandon Victor Dixon as Harpo. (Click on Dixon's name to get a look at his somewhat overly dynamic Web site. It's a trip.)

I was disheartened to see that the orchestra of the Wang was less than half full last night. If you're in the Boston area, I highly recommend the show, which runs here until June 28th. You can get discount tickets at Theatermania for $39.50. (You have to be a member, but it's free to join.) Or you could just wait for the movie version of the musical, which is currently in development. But I would suggest seeing it live. The Color Purple has an infectious energy, and despite the hardships that the story portrays, is ultimately a joyous and affirming experience.

UPDATE: I've been listening to the cast album for The Color Purple over the past two days, and I must say that the score is growing on me, particularly "Our Prayer," "Big Dog," "Brown Betty" and "Any Little Thing." Overall I still find the score somewhat bland, but theatrically effective. Most of the songs have an undifferentiated feel about them, at least upon first listening, and are a bit too adult contemporary and watered-down R&B for my taste.

August Osage County to Close June 28th

Regular readers will recall that, despite the title of my blog, I do make occasional forays into non-musical theater. By recent count, in fact, my musicals-to-plays ratio for Broadway theater was about 3 to 1.

One recent play that I found particularly captivating was Tracy Letts' multiple award-winning August: Osage County. Despite the play's formidable length (3 hours and 20 minutes), I was so taken by the show that I went back to see it again. Twice. Once to see Tony winner Deanna Dunagan, who was out the first time I saw the play, and again to see Estelle Parsons. Despite knowing all the show's many surprises ahead of time, I still found the play stunning, and appreciated the many differences among the equally masterful performances from Dunagan, Parsons, and understudy Susanne Marley.

Now comes news that the Broadway production of August, alas, is closing. The show, which currently stars Phylicia Rashad, will play its last performance at New York's Music Box Theater on Sunday, June 28th. The show will have played 648 performances and 18 previews, putting it past other such successful plays as Doubt, Master Class, and Six Degrees of Separation. August has long since recouped its $2.5 million initial investment, a year ago, in fact. The show's grosses have been declining pretty steadily since peaking at about $600,000 in early 2008, and lately have been coming in a bit closer to $200,000. Even so, it's likely that the investors have made a tidy profit for themselves. That's quite a feat when you're talking about a three-hour-plus, star-less drama.

What's more, the movie version of August: Osage County is currently under development towards a projected 2011 opening. And the national tour, which will star Estelle Parsons, launches later this year, with a stop at Boston's Colonial Theater in May 2010. You can bet that I'll be seeing it again.

Guys and Dolls Revival Closing

The first post-Tony musical has fallen, folks.

The producers of the current revival of Guys and Dolls have announced that the show will play its final performance this Sunday, June 14th. The show will have played 113 performances and 28 previews.

One of my readers informs me that the running cost (i.e. "nut") for Guys and Dolls is about $520,000 a week, and I count only nine weeks during the show's run in which the grosses exceeded that amount. Based on my calculations, as of last week the show had brought in total of $926,000 over its running costs. Since the typical musical of that size usually costs upwards of $10 million to mount, that would put Guys and Dolls at least $9 million in the hole. Youch. Yeah, there are a lot of assumptions in that calculation, but it gives you a sense of the magnitude of the loss.

I was one of the few people who genuinely enjoyed this production of Guys and Dolls. (Read my review) The show wasn't particularly memorable, but it represented a reasonably entertaining night at the theater. I was especially fond of Lauren Graham as Adelaide and Kate Jennings Grant as Sarah. Yeah, the show couldn't hold a candle to the 1992 Guys and Dolls revival, but few shows could. As usual, the producers have announced that there will be a national tour. Yeah, whatever. That's part of the drill: acknowledge the exceptional nature of the cast and crew, blame it on the economy or the sheer number of competing shows, hint at a national tour, etc. But I would actually be surprised if that tour actually materialized.

My blogger friend Esther quipped on Twitter earlier today "I guess I'll have to wait until the next Guys and Dolls revival." Well, Esther, love, if history is any indication, you won't have to wait very long.

The Tony Awards - Not as Crass as Expected

With all the pre-show hullabaloo about the Tony Awards broadcast, I went in expecting it to be one big crass-fest. Maybe that's why I came out feeling that it was the best Tony show in a number of years. Admittedly, the bar's not very high here.

I wasn't able to watch the show live and provide play-by-play on Twitter. (If you'd like to follow my random theater musings on an ongoing basis, I'm @ccaggiano.) So here are the impressions that I would have been posting, based on watching the show last night on TiVo delay.

The opening number: Was busy and frantic, and had some major sound problems. Actually, the show in general had significant sound issues, but it was most notable in the opening number, as well as during the Guys and Dolls performance. Oddest pairing: Stockard Channing and Aaron Tveit. Um, why?

Shrek number: I was pleased to see that the folks at Dreamworks decided to do an entire number from the show and not a greatest-hits montage, as so many shows have done in the past. The cast from Shrek performed "What's Up, Duloc?," featuring Tony nominee Christopher Sieber. Yeah, it's not the best number, from an admittedly lackluster score, but I give them props for not cutting and pasting bits and pieces from each of the nominees' best numbers.

Neil Patrick Harris: I thought NPH as the show's host was terrific: charming, confident, and self-effacing. I particularly liked the number with which he ended the show -- "Tonight" from West Side Story, with rewritten lyrics -- my favorite line from which was "The show could not be any gayer, if Liza was named mayor, and Elton John took flight." And I loved the sushi joke, at Jeremy Piven's well-deserved expense.

The touring-show numbers: The numbers from the touring productions of Mamma Mia, Legally Blonde and Jersey Boys were pointless. Bend over, Tony: the Broadway League wants a free commercial. The only number I didn't fast-forward through was Jersey Boys, because I found the gimmick of bringing in the five different Frankie Valli actors at least momentarily intriguing. (Be honest: by the end, you had chosen a favorite, right?) Yeah, I know: the Tony Awards in general are just one big commercial. But at least showcasing numbers from the nominated shows has a shred of credibility.

Best score: Yeah, Billy Elliot proved to be the juggernaut of the evening, but plucky little Next to Normal stopped Billy from sweeping up every award in sight. Congrats to Brian Yorkey and Tom Kitt for snatching the Tony from the undeserving hands of Elton John and Dolly Parton. And props to the Tony voters for seeing beyond the stars in their eyes.

West Side Story number: "The Dance at the Gym" was a good choice for the show. It showcased the terrific playfulness between Matt Cavenaugh and Josephina Scaglione, as well as Jerome Robbins' kick-ass choreography. I wasn't so hot on the way they ended it, with a snatch from the "Tonight" duet, but again I was glad not to see a montage/commercial.

Rock of Ages number: Speaking of montages, I was rather unimpressed by the custom-made production number from Rock of Ages. Despite the effort, the number really didn't do the show justice, and failed to capture what is actually appealing about this show. If I hadn't already seen the show (twice) this number would not have induced me.

Liza: Is Liza Minnelli falling apart before our very eyes, or what? Did they have paramedics standing by in case she imploded?

Guys and Dolls number: "Sit Down You're Rocking the Boat" was an unfortunate choice for Guys and Dolls, since that was the number that the 1992 cast performed on the Tonys, and it created an unfortunate reminder of what the present revival is lacking. Plus, it put the miscasting of the otherwise talented Tituss Burgess into unflattering relief. And then there was the microphone trouble: we could hear the backstage folk panicking, but we couldn't hear Burgess sing until a stagehand ran on stage with a hand mike. What is this, 1950? Haven't we mastered the challenges of live TV by now? And how many people are greeting their Monday morning to the sight of a pink slip?

Best supporting actor: One of the genuine surprises of the night was when Greg Jbara won for Billy Elliot. I would have put good money on Will Swenson from Hair. But the voters were probably recognizing Jbara for admittedly strong performances past and present, and were likely caught up in the Billy Elliot tidal wave.

Next to Normal number: Alice Ripley seemed to be having some tempo problems in this number, although it might have been more sound issues with the TV production. But performing "You Don't Know/I Am the One" was a super choice, showing this moving show to its best advantage. Oh, and Alice, lovey, I applaud your winning best actress for Next to Normal, but WHY WERE YOU YELLING DURING YOUR ACCEPTANCE SPEECH?!

In Memoriam: Was anyone else annoyed by the relentless camera pans during the tribute to theater folks who died in the past year? I could barely read Marilyn Cooper's name.

The Billy Elliot monolith: Best sound design? Best SET!? Did the Tony voters actually see the Billy Elliot set? It's hideous and awkward. You might say, "Well it's supposed to be ugly. These people are living in squalor." Granted. But does that mean we have to throw an award at urban blight? Again, we're probably just witnessing the Billy momentum here. 

Frank Langella: I applaud Frank Langella for what some might consider a self-aggrandizing speech. Perhaps it was. But he did serve as a reminder to the Tony nominating committee that, um, there were a bunch of shows that opened in the fall, many of which (The Seagull, anyone?) were entirely shut out. 

Harriet Walter and Janet McTeer: "Hiss!" and "Boo!" to the TV crew for mixing up Janet McTeer and Harriet Walter. And props to the classy Marcia Gay Harden for pointing the gaffe out in her acceptance speech. 

The Hair number: Performing the title song from Hair was a very good choice, nicely capturing the exuberance of the show, which thankfully went on to win Best Revival. I loved it when Oskar Eustis said "Peace now! Freedom now! Equality now!," emphasizing the last one by pointing to his wedding ring, a clear and welcome reference to gay marriage.

Billy Elliot number: On the one hand, I was glad to see that they chose only one Billy Elliot to showcase in the "Angry Dance." (It was Trent Kowalik.) On the other hand, the number, which was one of the moments in the show that I found genuinely compelling, came off as loud, tuneless, and harsh, and was also poorly shot. Oh, and BTW, would that the Tony nominating committee and voters had shown the same strength of character and actually chosen *one* Billy as best actor. But that would hurt somebody's feelings, now wouldn't it? We can't have an awards show hurt someone's feelings, can we? (Yeah, well, talk to Frank Dolce, the poor kid who shares the part of Michael with Tony nominee David Bologna, about that one.) I didn't see David Alvarez, but I heard he's very good. I got Kiril Kulish, who is a terrific dancer, but the heavy acting scenes were a bit of a stretch for him. And now, all three of them have a Tony. Oh, isn't that just adorable?

Best Musical: As for the Billy Elliot sweep, well, all I can say is, I hated the show in London (read my review), but I was moderately engaged by the Broadway production (read my re-review). It's a great big crowd-pleaser, and there's some really solid stagecraft in evidence. But the score is awful, and the dance is IMHO overrated. Is it a classic for the ages? Will it become a stalwart part of the musical theater canon? Will community theaters and high school drama societies be performing Billy Elliot fifty years from now? Oh, sister, I have such doubts.

Hair Revival Even Better on Broadway

The current Broadway revival of Hair had a somewhat tumultuous road to Broadway. Even after the show's phenomenally successful run last summer at the Delacorte Theater, former lead producer Elizabeth I. McCann reportedly had trouble capitalizing the show. So the Public Theater brought in Spring Awakening producers Jeffrey Richards and Jerry Frankel to finish the job. The show's opening night moved from March 5th to March 31st to accommodate the shakeup. In a recent post, I wondered whether the show would retain its Central Park luster amid the tumult.

It most certainly has. And then some. Most of the praise that I heaped upon the show in my review of its Central Park stint still stands. In fact, I found the show even more powerful the second time. Sure, the show works really well alfresco, but that doesn't mean it can't work just as well in a proscenium house. The Broadway production achieves a sense of clarity and dramatic purpose even greater than that of the Central Park production, although that may simply be a function of my becoming more familiar with the piece.

Director Diane Paulus and choreographer Karole Armitage have teamed up to achieve a feat of theatrical alchemy, concocting a show of such raw passion and emotional honesty from Gerome Ragni and James Rado's unfocused and seemingly random book. The linchpin of the show's appeal lies in the seemingly endless joys of the Galt MacDermot score, paired with Rado and Ragni's colloquial, erudite, and often profound lyrics.

Another essential element to the current production's appeal is its talented cast. The frenetic Will Swenson thankfully returns as Berger, and he remains the sexy and energetic soul of the production. As much as I enjoyed Jonathan Groff as Claude, Gavin Creel brings a bit more gravitas and conflict to the role. But this is really one of those shows in which the ensemble work makes an essential contribution, and fortunately most of the cast seem to be focusing their efforts in support of the piece, rather than in personal showboating, although there were a few minor performers who seemed more intent on auditioning for their next role than in serving the present production.

Many people questioned Hair's commercial transfer: why would people pay more than $100 to see a show that they could have seen for free in the park? Um, because we don't all live in New York City, folks. And even if we did, we might not have had to time to get up at 3AM to stand in line for a ticket. Since the show began performances at the Hirschfeld Theater in March, its weekly grosses have risen steadily, as has the attendance percentage and the average ticket price. And it's the heavy favorite to win the Tony Award for Best Revival of a Musical.

So, Hair seems to be triumphing over the naysayers. For me, it's the one unqualified artistic and commercial success of the season, at least as far as musicals go. And I urge every one of you out there who has a chance to see the show to do so at your earliest opportunity.

Spring Awakening on Tour

I have to be honest: I wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing Spring Awakening again. There's something about certain musical tragedies that really depresses me, mostly because, although I can appreciate the stagecraft, I dread the inevitable outcome. Shows that fall into this category for me include West Side Story, Parade, Marie Christine, and Lost in the Stars. All very worthy shows, but de-ee-pressing to sit through.

It's not that I demand a happy ending: I could sit through Grey Gardens or Next to Normal again and again, and those shows are hardly carefree romps. (Yes, Next to Normal. I find I'm becoming more and more enamored of this show as I listen to the CD. A woman's prerogative, and all that.)

But since I have two former students who are currently in the tour cast of Spring Awakening, I felt I should at least do them the courtesy. Plus, I wanted to see if my initial positive reaction to the show still held true. (Read my original review here.)

In short, no. I still think the show is a worthy addition to the musical theater canon, and represents some really compelling work on the part of director Michael Mayer and choreographer Bill T. Jones. But I'm becoming less and less a fan of the score, which has music by Duncan Sheik and lyrics by Steven Sater. Sure, the songs are deliberately anachronistic, with mentions of phone calls and stereos, neither of which existed at the time when the show takes place. But I've always reconciled that, as well as the use of hand-held microphones, with the idea that the production team were trying to make the message of the show more universal, using an almost Brechtian style of presentation.

But some of the things that have soured me on the show include Sater's egregious use of slant rhyme (e.g. paring "written" with "wisdom"), the bland undifferentiated nature of many of Sheik's melodies, and the non-integrated nature of much of the score. Often the numbers seem to bear little relation to what's going on in the plot. This is especially true at the top of act two, where we have "The Guilty Ones," "Don't Do Sadness," and "Blue Wind" in succession. Although I was trying to listen to the lyrics to find some connection to the story, I eventually gave up. My attention waned almost entirely until "Totally Fucked" brought me back into the moment. And I'll be damned if I can figure out what "The Song of Purple Summer" is supposed to mean. The promise of the future, I guess, but the lyrics are so random and vague, it's really hard to care.

That said, the cast for the tour is quite strong. It's hard to live up to the dynamic Jonathan Groff as Melchior, but Kyle Riabko does an admirable job of trying to make the part his own. I actually preferred Blake Bashoff as Moritz to Tony Award winner John Gallagher, Jr. I found Gallagher unbearably mannered in the role, but Bashoff made the part simultaneously frenetic and sympathetic. (Oh, and a special shout out to my BoCo peeps Chase Davidson and Kimiko Glenn in the supporting cast. Super job, guys. And break a leg with the rest of the tour.)

Both Sheik and Sater have announced various other musical-theater projects that they've been working on. Sheik recently released the concept album for Whisper House, which is scheduled to have its premiere at the Old Globe in San Diego during its 2009-2010 season. As I said in my review of the Whisper House CD, my fear is that this new project will suffer from the same randomness and lack of integration as Spring Awakening. But, as always, I maintain an open mind, and look forward to seeing how the show comes together.