Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals

Come Fly Away Will Play the Marquis

As closing announcements proliferate, and the remaining Broadway shows face the prospect of a bleak midwinter, we're also hearing about new musicals to step in and fill the void.

The new Twyla Tharp dance show, formerly titled Come Fly With Me, now bearing the moniker Come Fly Away, will begin performances at the Marquis Theater in March. Similar to Tharp's previous two efforts -- the successful Movin' Out and the disastrous The Times They Are a-Changin' -- Come Fly Away is a songbook show, this time featuring the music of Frank Sinatra.

Although the show itself is relatively new, Tharp actually has a long history with the music of Frank Sinatra, having created numerous pieces set to Sinatra recordings in the early 1980s, including Nine Sinatra Songs and Sinatra Suite, the latter with Mikhail Baryshnikov. But have no fear, musicians' union, for this won't be another Contact, a show that came under fire for eschewing an orchestra in favor of a piped-in jukebox soundtrack. Come Fly Away does indeed utilize recordings of the late Sinatra's voice, but the vocal tracks are backed by a live on-stage band playing some newly created orchestrations.

The show received some fairly solid reviews during its recent engagement at the Alliance Theater in Atlanta, at which time it was still known as Come Fly With Me. Charles Isherwood of the New York Times called the show "exhilarating." Wendell Brock of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution said "dazzling." And Frank Rizzo of Variety wrote that "even at this early stage" the show is "vibrant, engaging and, at times, thrilling." With notices like that, the producers would be fools not to bring the show to New York. Right?

Not so fast. As my friend Ken Davenport recently wrote about on his blog, The Producer's Perspective, out-of-town raves do not a Broadway blockbuster make. Ragtime got very strong reviews when it played DC, and now the Broadway production is closing at a significant loss. Finian's Rainbow got terrific notices during its Encores run last season, only to meet a similar fate to Ragtime. Perhaps the most extreme example is the now-legendary Glory Days, which came to New York almost entirely on the strength of Peter Marks' gushing review in The Washington Post. During previews, Glory Days struggled to garner an audience larger than 25% of the house, and then promptly folded on opening night. Whoops. 

Will Come Fly Away deliver on the promise of its advance notices? Will the new Twyla Tharp show be another Movin' Out or another The Times They Are a-Changin'? If it's the former, expect to see more from Twyla on Broadway. If it's the latter, well, it's probably back to the barre.

Fela on Broadway

I wasn't a fan of the musical Fela when I saw it Off Broadway at the 37 Arts theater complex. Although I found the story captivating, the dance energetic, and the music vibrant, I thought the storytelling was primitive, and the direction loose and unfocused.

But like many recent shows that have made the Off- to On-Broadway transfer (In the Heights, Next to Normal, Spring Awakening, Grey Gardens), Fela has undergone significant revisions, and the Fela that is currently playing at the Eugene O'Neill Theater in New York is a major improvement over its earlier incarnation. If this renovated Fela isn't quite the magnum opus its creators seemed to be striving for, it's unquestionably the most ambitious new musical of the season.

The show tells the story of Nigerian recording artist and activist Fela Anikulapo Kuti, as filtered through the sensibilities of director/choreographer Bill T. Jones (Spring Awakening) and his co-librettist Jim Lewis. The show starts by breaking down the history of Fela's music, then relates how he himself became an instrument of rebellion. In protest against the corrupt and oppressive Nigerian regime, Fela declares his compound an independent state, with dramatic and often tragic consequences.

As was the case Off-Broadway, the story of Fela comes mostly in monologue form. Since the dramatic conceit of the show is that Fela is giving his farewell concert performance before leaving his beloved Nigeria, I guess that makes a certain amount of sense. But, hey, how about some scenes in flashback to break things up? Thankfully, Jones and Lewis have done just that by adding a new character, the student Sandra (Saycon Sengbloh), who actually has lines, which brings a bit more dimension to the story. But she's still the only other person who speaks: the mother character, played here by the marvelous but underutilized Lillias White, communicates here only through song, and somewhat obliquely at that.

Because I attended a Saturday afternoon performance of the Broadway Fela, I saw Kevin Mambo as Fela this time, which was a bit disappointing, since one of the things that I genuinely enjoyed about Fela Off Broadway was the dynamic Sahr Ngaujah in the title role. Mambo held his own, to be sure, but I would have much preferred to have seen Nguajah again in the show that may very well make him a star. Ngaujah was mesmerizing in a role in which Mambo is merely competent.

Overall, the Broadway version of Fela is a considerably more fluid and balanced than the Off-Broadway production, which bordered on hagiography. The new show reveals more facets of Fela the man, both good and bad, including more direct references to his often questionable treatment of women. The result is more dramatically cohesive and emotionally compelling. The formerly excruciating sequence in which Fela communicates with his mother in the afterlife seems to have been shortened and clarified to the point where it's merely innocuous. And Jones seems to have fine-tuned the staging, forging significant improvements in energy and showmanship. The final tags to both acts are especially stunning.

Even so, Fela remains more an intellectual pleasure than a visceral one, more admirable than enjoyable. It's certainly worth seeing, and, as I said, is likely to be the most adventurous musical to hit Broadway this season. Granted, that's not saying much, considering that the only other new musical so far has been the dynamic but conventional Memphis, and the only new shows that are definite for the coming season are The Addams Family and Million Dollar Quartet. 

What about Spider-Man, you ask. Yeah, what *about* Spider-Man?

Flashback - Michael Bennett and Scandal

I was going through an old box of my college notebooks, when I came across an issue of Vanity Fair dated November 1984. I was about to throw it away when I noticed that on the last page there was an interview with Michael Bennett, who was in the middle of rehearsing Scandal.

Theater queens of a certain age will doubtless remember Scandal. It was meant to be Bennett's follow-up to Dreamgirls, a triumphant return to his A Chorus Line form. Bennett was even revisiting the famed ACL workshop process, allowing the show to emerge organically from a 12-month rehearsal period. In the Vanity Fair article, Bennett boasts that the opening number alone -- a 20-minute, full-on, balls-to-the-wall orgy featuring stars Swoosie Kurtz and Treat Williams -- took ten weeks of rehearsals to create.

Scandal was to have a score by Jimmy Webb and a book by Treva Silverman, neither of whom had any significant theatrical experience. But then, neither did Marvin Hamlisch. Bennett apparently preferred to work with newbies -- they're easier to bully about. It's certainly no secret at this point that Bennett was rather ruthless in his pursuit of theatrical perfection. To quote Bennett from the Vanity Fair article: "I usually try to hate everything when I'm rehearsing. In a way, I like to see the show as the enemy." Apparently this applied to his co-creators and performers as well.

I must say the Vanity Fair article doesn't reflect well on Bennett. Most of his quotes are pretty facile, if not downright puerile. In describing Scandal, Bennett says "It has a story with a beginning, middle, and an end, which I like in theater...And it has a happy ending, which I believe all musicals should have. For forty dollars a ticket, it's the least they should have!" The reference to forty-dollar tickets is simply amusing in retrospect. How could Bennett know that a scant 25 years later, ticket prices would have reached a ridiculous high of $136.50? (Thank you, Roundabout.)

But then there's the beginning/middle/end thing. Well, thank you, Captain Obvious. And every musical should have a happy ending? Um, really? West Side Story? Lost in the Stars? Grey Gardens? Parade? Marie Christine? Sweeney Todd? This sounds rather naive and disingenuous coming from the man who broke the hearts of sixteen fictional "boys and girls" nightly for 15 years with A Chorus Line.

Scandal as a show died with Michael Bennett. At the time, the official word was that the show was canceled because the salacious subject matter was inappropriate with the advent of AIDS. We later learned that AIDS was indeed to blame, but it wasn't the subject matter of the show, but rather the health of its creator that was at issue.

Bennett also pulled out of the London premier of Chess prior to its 1986 opening, for health reasons, although AIDS wasn't mentioned at the time. But by the time he left Chess, he had already commissioned the show's expensive and elaborate set, which consisted of two giant walls of video monitors and an enormous hydraulic chess board that rose and spun, not unlike the tire from Cats. Director Trevor Nunn inherited the production concept, but didn't seem to know how to do anything with it, and the result was pointlessly complicated and rather inert.

It's interesting to speculate what Scandal would have been like as a show, and whether there was any decent material there that's worth resurrecting. But it seems pretty clear that without the guiding and dictatorial hand of Michael Bennett, it's very likely that there really wouldn't be any there there. If there were, wouldn't something have leaked out in the interim, a la Carrie and the many extant bootlegs of same? And it's always heartbreaking to contemplate what might have been if Bennett have lived. Those of us content to appreciate what this tortured and torturing genius left behind at least have the October 13th DVD release of the "Every Little Step" to look forward to. 

Desk Clearing: West Side Spanish, Birdie Dance, Nine Movie, and Ragtime Logo

A number of things have been making me cranky lately. Not sure if it's just my mood, or if these items are genuinely annoying. So, rather than addressing each item separately, I figured I'd just get them all out of the way in one peevish post.

Bye Bye Birdie - The New York Daily News reports that the star of the upcoming Broadway revival of Bye Bye Birdie, Gina Gershon, won't be performing the show's iconic Shriner's Ballet. The article quotes Gershon as saying the dance was cut because it was too "gang rape-y." As other commentators have pointed out, that's never seemed to be a problem before, despite being Tams-Witmark's number-one show for decades. The more likely explanation: Gershon can't handle the dance. If they're so concerned about modern sensibilities, will Gershon be performing the regressive and sexist "An English Teacher"? Will the chorus girls still be fawning and fainting to the salacious sight of Conrad Birdie's gyrating hips? The show is a period piece. If you don't like the period, don't do the piece.
Peeve Factor: 7 out of 10. If you want to see a real pro in action, click here to watch Chita Rivera perform the Shriner's Ballet.

West Side Story - According to the New York Times, the current smash-hit Broadway revival of West Side Story has changed back much of the show's much-touted Spanish to the original English lyrics and text. As you may know, director Arthur Laurents brought in Lin-Manuel Miranda (In the Heights) to translate huge chunks of the show into Spanish. The article quotes Laurents as saying the Spanish was "an experiment." Yeah, a failed experiment. As I've written about in my reviews of the show itself and of the CD, I wasn't a fan of the Spanish text. I found it alienating and thought it robbed two terrific songs ("I Feel Pretty" and "A Boy Like That/I Have a Love") of their humor, pathos, and drama. But I also thought that Miranda's lyrics didn't match the quality of Sondheim's original work.
Peeve Factor: 5 out of 10, mitigated by the fact that they've, for the most part, reverted to the infinitely preferable original words.

"Nine" - The more I hear about Rob Marshall's forthcoming film version of Nine, the less excited I become. First, the delectable Javier Bardem dropped out, replaced by the talented but IMHO considerably less sexy Daniel Day Lewis. Now, according to Playbill, Maury Yeston has provided three new songs for the movie: "Guarda la Luna," "Cinema Italiano," and "Take it All." Which is fine, but to make room, they're cutting at least five of the original songs: "Simple," "Be On Your Own," "Grand Canal," "Nine," "The Bells of St. Sebastian's." Boo and grrr. (For a detailed discussion of the cut and added songs, check out a post by my friend Kevin at Theatre Aficionado at Large.)
Peeve Factor: 9 out of 10. Pun intended. I'm not a knee-jerk purist, but the movie is going to need to be pretty spectacular to make up for the butchering of the score. Of course, the "Sweeney Todd" film involved a tremendous amount of cutting as well, and I raved about that movie in my review. So, the jury's still out, despite my current annoyance.

Ragtime - The press folk for the upcoming Broadway revival of Ragtime have recently been touting the new visual identity for the production. (See left) Apparently, it's the work of some famous Italian illustrator. Whatever, it's washed-out, flat, and unmemorable. Plus, the physical arrangement seems borrowed from the logo to The Secret Garden. Of course, I was also nonplussed by the logos for Hair and A Catered Affair, and impressed by that of Cry-Baby. So there's no necessary connection between the quality of an individual show and that of its marketing materials.
Peeve Factor: 2 out of 10. Like many of you, I'm simply thrilled that Ragtime is getting another chance on Broadway. During its original run, it was overshadowed by The Lion King and hampered by irresponsible -- and now felonious -- producing.

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.

Dance Review: Garden of Earthly Delights

I've decided not to renew any of my New York theater subscriptions for next season. It's just that I only ever wind up seeing the musicals, and none of the New York non-profits have been doing more than one musical a season. And I find that, even though I have tickets to see the plays, I often (well, usually) wind up blowing them off.

Why waste the money, you ask? Well, it started because I wanted to have a regular reason to get down to the city, and I figured with a subscription, I'd have four or five reasons to carve out a separate weekend in NYC. It started with the Roundabout, and then expanded to the Manhattan Theater Club and the Public Theater because they each added musicals (Romantic Poetry and Road Show, respectively) that seemed as though they were going to be hot tickets, and I wanted to make sure they didn't sell out, like the original Assassins back in the day, or the more recent revival of The Pajama Game. Well, they didn't sell out, and now I'm stuck with tickets to a bunch of plays that I don't really want to see.

Case in point: tonight I was supposed to see The American Plan at the Samuel Friedman Theater. I was originally psyched to see Mercedes Ruehl, but somehow I just couldn't justify using one of my precious show slots to see something I wasn't all that excited about. (BTW, have you noticed that they've added a beefcake shot of Kieran Campion and references to "Brokeback Mountain" to the ads for The American Plan to get the gay boys interested in seeing the show? Pretty cheap.) So, I decided to blow it off, and grabbed a discount ticket for Garden of Earthly Delights, which had really been intriguing me since I started reading about it a few months back. 

Garden of Earthly Delights is a sort of dance/movement/theater/music piece devised and choreographed by Martha Clarke, a founding member of Pilobolus, a dance troupe that is a personal favorite of mine. The piece originated in 1984, and Clarke recently re-imagined and re-staged it Off-Broadway at the Minetta Lane Theater. It's inspired by the famed Hieronymus Bosch triptych of the same name, which currently resides in Museo del Prado in Madrid. Click on the image below for a more detailed view. (It's interesting to note that the dance piece came about at around the same time that Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine were creating Sunday in the Park With George, a musical based on another iconic artwork, Georges Seurat's "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte." Some would call that ironic. They'd be wrong.)

The original Bosch painting may seem like something produced in a drug-induced haze -- a sort of freaky combo of Salvador Dalí and "Where's Waldo" -- but it's actually said to be a fervid expression of devout religiosity. Some art scholars consider the piece a didactic cautionary treatise from Bosch on the sins of Man, and the tortures that await the unrighteous. Others see it as lamentation of the fall of Man from the joys of Paradise.

The dance piece that Clarke has created, some 500 years later, is both brutal and sublime. It's less a literal interpretation of the painting than an exploration of its apparent themes. The work starts with amorphous figures emerging in primordial motion, then segues into iconic Biblical imagery, specifically the story of Adam and Eve. Clarke interweaves the abstract and the representational throughout, including the most literal segment featuring a virtual catalog of bodily functions (both reproductive and excretory) of a group of medieval peasants.

The piece seems most interested in all that is lusty and base, which it represents through stylized sensuality and violence, both of which are frequently disturbing. As with the painting, we're not really sure if it's meant to be a grim warning or a lament for paradise lost. Is it a celebration or a condemnation of Man's primitive urges and their expression? The piece shrewdly mixes Darwin with creationism, with the primordial ooze both the Alpha and the Omega of the piece. The question Clarke seems to be asking is, no matter what your philosophy, can Man escape his most primitive desires? Does he even want to? (Pardon the sexist terminology, but I'm using "Man" here in a deliberately archaic sense.) 

The most striking production elements are Richard Peaslee's award-winning music and the "Flying by Foy." The onstage band sport the garb of medieval monks, providing music in both chanting and instrumental form, the latter via cello, various forms of percussion, bagpipes, Jew's harp, and the occasional didgeridoo. The monks alternate between being dispassionate observers and willful participants in the proceedings. As for the flying, well, it works a lot better here than it does in Billy Elliot. (I heard they were toying with cutting the flying out of Billy Elliot, which is just fine with me. I found it unbearably twee. Anyone know whether they actually have?)

Garden of Earthly Delights was originally scheduled to run until March 1st, but has recently been extended another three months to May 31st. It's definitely worth a trip down to the Village to catch it. Plus, it's only 70 minutes long, so you'll ave plenty of time after for drinks at The Duplex.