Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark

I've tweeted quite a bit about the road to Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark. How my tickets were cancelled and my seats move to progressively worse locations. How Ticketmaster told me they were excited about the "great seats" they had for me at the December 26 performance, only to discover they were not just bad, but obstructed view. (And a decent usher who moved us to perhaps the best seats in the house.) But I finally got to see Spiderman, and now I get to add my thoughts to the bizzilion others on the web.

The technical difficulties that have made headlines were largely absent. A brief pause during the first act and another during the second act finale actually added a bit of excitement to the proceedings.

Long story short: Pretty much every aspect of Spiderman needs work. The technical effects are exciting, but mostly occur in the first act. The second act, particularly the finale needs a technical marvel to compare to the first act finale. The book and score are passable, but certainly not yet rising to Broadway quality.

Act I is stronger in some key ways. The story is more fully developed and, as noted, has the high-flying technical marvels we've been promised. But overall it feels derivative. This is partly due to the fact that it's an origin story, so anyone who's seen the first film pretty much knows what;s going to happen. The opening seems pulled from Lion King, and a key musical performance repeats the choreography from Across the Universe. Julie Taymor's work is about discovery, but telling an all too familiar story in such a mundane fashion simply doesn't work.

Act II focuses on Arachne, a Taymor creation rooted in Greek mythology, and an original story. While it's ultimately more satisfying and creative, it's also muddled and underdeveloped. It begins with an ill-conceived, ripped-from-Aida fashion show of Spiderman villains. It leads to a finale that lacks energy, comprehension and techno feats. And the big reveals, like Mary Jane finding out that Peter Parker is Spiderman, happen off stage. But at least it feels original throughout.

The flying effects are generally exciting, but the web-spinning effects are mostly absent and uninspiring.

The music by Bono and The Edge is not particularly memorable. The one song that works well, The Boy Falls From the Sky, is a solid second act number. But the music is not really theatrical.

Patrick Page and T.V. Carpio (subbing for the now department Natalie Mendoza) are given the meatiest roles and make for interesting villains. Reeve Carney and Jennifer Damiano are in excellent voice, but in rather thankless roles. The production makes no secret of the fact that multiple actors are playing Spiderman, and the unfortunate effect is that there's no fully developed character.

Julie Taymor is on video discussing the fact that Spiderman is part musical, part cirque, park rock concert. But ultimately it's still a musical that doesn't know what it wants to be. With five weeks of previews left, there are certainly opportunities to make substantial improvements. And Taymor is always up for a challenge.

Wicked Update

I had a chance to see Wicked again last weekend. It's been a few years since I last saw it, but two friends needed to see it. It's holding up well. The producers have made a few modifications to the Broadway production, so it feels mostly indistinguishable from the two touring companies I've seen.

Mandy Gonzales stepped into the role of Elphaba only last week, and Katie Rose Clarke continues her long run in the bubble. Both are just fine and make the roles their own. Gonzales is a bit less intense than previous Elphies, and Clarke has this Ann Reinking/Zooey Deschanel thing going that works well.

The production is still slick, with very strong supporting performances by Rondi Reed (Morrible) and Alex Brightman (Boq). It also feels fresh, which was great to see.

Wicked still remains a show that is better than it should be. It is far greater than the sum of its parts, which is good because the parts aren't all that great. But the lapses in story, the weak lyrics, and the only tangential connection to the Maguire novel disappear into a wonderful time at the theater.

Next to Normal

Oh yes, Alice Ripley deserved the Tony Award for Best Actress. She expresses a vulnerability and range of emotion rarely required in a performance. Next to Normal is the journey of Diana, a woman with severe and longstanding mental health issues. It's a study of the effect on her family.

The brilliance of Next to Normal is absolutely in the acting. Besides Ripley's riveting performance, Jennifer Damiano and J. Robert Spencer are exceptional as daughter and husband respectively, coping with Diana's delusions, suspecting they're the cause and, particularly in Natalie's (Damiano) case, afraid she's next. Kyle Dean Massey is also very strong as Diana's son Gabe, as is Louis Hobson as her therapist.

But in many ways, it's the work of Adam Chandler-Berat that stands out. As Natalie's boyfriend Henry, he's the outsider. He's us. Chandler-Berat doesn't get to play the wide range of emotion everyone else does. He captures the boyishness and innocence that any high school nerd/stoner might have for his first girl crush. But Henry is much more than that. As the person who must handle Natalie's own panic about becoming her mother, he is loyal and committed to supporting her. He is also recreating the father, a subtlety Chandler-Berat brings to his nuanced performance.

A new musical with a contemporary score is always welcome when it's done well, and Next to Normal certainly is. It breaks some new ground, though there are certainly moments in the score that evoke the similarly themed Falsettoland. In Falsettoland it was AIDS, here it's mental health. The point of both is that even amidst great tragedy, life goes on. We go on. Brian Yorkey and Tom Kitt capture this beautifully and painfully.

With all this greatness, why didn't I love Next to Normal? Well, because I was constantly distracted by the very weak staging of Michael Greif. Greif uses a three level set that is so deep, most seats have an obstructed view. Sit too close and you miss most of what's on the third level and much of what's on the second (that was me). Sit too far and you can't see the third level. A week later and my neck still hurts. (I remember a time when productions disclosed that you were purchasing seats with an obstructed view.) Greif has directed his actors well, but he's put them on a set that does things because it's Broadway and not because the play demands it. But mostly, he puts them on a set that leaves you saying over and over again, "dammit, i wonder what's happening."

Next to Normal was never the immersive experience it needed to be. I tried to justify the distractions by crediting Greif with some intentionality (it certainly is "alienation" well deployed), but in the end it stripped the play of it's most powerful emotion. Very good, yes. Great, not really.

WTF, WTF, WTFy, Fy, F?

The most surprising thing about Jerry Springer: the Opera is that you actually feel for the guests who are sharing their "Guilty Secrets" in this through-sung cultural study. Like the show on which it's based, the show finds new ways to shock with each succeeding scene, and it's so filled with obscenity-laced speeches I haven't been able to tweet my favorite lines. Set to operatic voices and musical theater themes heightens the absurdity and the hilarity. It also adds a level of cultural criticism that makes for a brilliant work and a particularly brilliant production.

The first act plays out as a somewhat typical episode of Jerry Springer with a number of soliloquies--or arias--that give a more rounded (though still funny and intended to shock) portrait of Jerry's guest. These moments humanize the guests, which is something the TV show is not all that concerned with. At times is does feel a little derivative (Is there much difference between the dancing KKK and dancing Nazi's in The Producers?) The second act, "Jerry Springer in Hell" takes place in, well, hell. Satan is having family dysfunction issues with Jesus and God, and Jerry is the person to help them work it out.

The second act rises and falls on whether you can accept that Jerry might be having a little crisis of conscience of his own. I've always found the second act to be less rich than the first, but Springer in Hell is still a great ride. I'm always left with the sense that the creators, Richard Thomas and Stewart Lee--are a little too satisfied with themselves.

It's the second act, of course, that brings out the protesters. Thomas has always seemed a little disingenuous when he says that they're criticizing something they haven't seen...and if they only would they'd understand. True, they'd understand that the show takes on issues of faith in over-the-top ways. But they'd also see Jesus hanging out in a glorified diaper, God having his own crisis of faith, and the audience chanting "Jesus is gay." etc. This is not a show for the devout and probably not one for the young.

But these are quibbles in an otherwise amazing production. The intimacy of the Roberts Studio Theater at the Boston Center for the Arts is perfect for this production--a large-scale show in an intimate setting. This is a rare treat. A small section of the real audience is seated on stage and mixes with the Springer audience in a way that enhances that intimacy.

The cast is uniformly excellent. Michael Fennimore does a superb job channeling Jerry, and Ariana Valdes and Joelle Lurie are particularly strong in a variety of roles. Even those with the smallest roles have moments in which they stand out.

I have owned the recording of Jerry Spring: The Opera for some years. I've always felt a gap in my arts education because I hadn't seen a production of it. Now, I have, and I can't imagine a more solid production.

Note: It would be nice, SpeakEasy if you'd allow us to embed your video and images in our blogs. This time I'll give you a shout-out and point directly to your site. But let's be more social networking friendly.

Hair

Before I get into my review of Hair, I would just like to say that it is my conviction that the weekend of April 24 was joyful, meaningful and so very special. A friend said it was "sublime". I saw two extraordinary shows, two fine exhibits at the Modern, and had two wonderful meals with friends and two intimate meals with my, hmmm, husband. Talk about recharging your batteries!

I have seen many productions of Hair over the years. All of them were fun, but only one was transcendental--until last Saturday. A perfect production of Hair (though Hair is not a perfect musical can be determined in a single, tiny moment of feelings. As the the tribe sings the first note of "Let the Sunshine In" your body must be walking in space and firmly planted in the harsh reality of the moment. Your heart must have extraordinary joy, tremendous grief, and this bittersweet recognition that the show is coming to an end. Almost all productions will give you a moment of joy. After all, these are the songs of our lives and the greatest hits of the 60's.

In the amazing production of Hair currently at the Hirschfeld those moments come together so eloquently and poignantly that you can truly have a transcendental experience without mind-altering chemical assistance.

Everything that leads up to this moment is pitch perfect. The music, the choreography, the vision, the love!

The emotional heft of Hair is in the performances. But the cast, with the exception of Berger, Claude and Sheila, is given only brief moments to present a full character. But they do. In Diane Paulis's vision, the members of the tribe are all over the place all the time, and somehow it feels that every character is richly developed. The connection is powerful.

Will Swenson (Berger), Gavin Creel (Claude) and Caissie Levy (Sheila) form the core of the tribe. They bring a complexity to the performance that isn't usually there. When Sheila is wounded by Berger's callousness, she asks "How can people be so heartless?" ("Easy to be Hard") The irony of the song is that she's doing the same to Claude. Hair is filled with these multidimensional moments.

The supporting members of the tribe all make the most of their moments, never a dull moment and rarely a weak one.

The problem with most productions of Hair over the last 30 years since it first left New York is that they de-emphasize the sex and the drugs for a regional, suburban audience. Not here! Free love is back. Berger and Claude connect just as erotically as each does with Sheila. The pairings in the choreography are gender neutral and emotionally powerful.

Hair is raw, joyous and heart-wrenching. The rest is silence. The rest is silence....

(By the way, for a groovy online experience, check out Hair on Broadway.

And Please, Billy...

I've been waiting years to see Billy Elliot on Broadway. When the show opened in London in 2005, the reviews were great. The score, by Sir Elton, is his best by far. The cast recording is a bittersweet emotional experience. Heading into the show, I had hopes that Billy Elliot would have the same effect on me as Ragtime, another show in a huge production with dark material and serious issues for our time. Did it deliver?

I think the only answer to that question can be "half way." I loved the show, and I left thinking how much better it could be. First, the bad news: In 2008, Billy Elliot feels incredibly derivative. In fact, my least favorite moments seem pulled directly from three current Broadway shows. In Act I, during the otherwise fantastic "Express Yourself" duet between Billy and Michael, giant-sized puppets more than reminiscent of Wizardmania in Wicked totally distract from one of the most beautiful and sweet moments of the show. Act II begins with a "tribute" to Maggie Thatcher in which a giant Thatcher puppet comes over the back of the stage to terrorize the cast (and hopefully--but not, unfortunately) the audience, a la the second act opener of Avenue Q. The least favorite of the least favorite moments in the post-finale finale, that plays like the Mamma Mia megamix that ends that show.

IMamma Mia, it works okay. But Billy Elliot is a bittersweet show with a rather somber ending. To follow that with 15 minutes of the cast dancing to the big songs from the show in tutus is a crass commercial decision that leaves one perplexed, not thoughtful. Ben Brantley, in his review of the London production, warned us to leave before the curtain call starts. Oh that I would have listened.

These problems aren't fatal. That's good, because there is no chance they're going to be fixed. But they do keep Billy Elliot from being great. And what is great about it?

The story is incredibly moving. The story of the young boy who wants to dance set against the backdrop of the miners' strike in Thatcher's England is rich, moving and powerful. The cast is fantastic, particularly our Billy, Trent Kowalik, and Mrs. Wilkinson, Haydn Gwynne, had wonderful chemistry. The ongoing interplay between the miners and the young ballerinas is often poignant and always creative. In fact, the choreography by Peter Darling weaves a thread through the story that supports the narrative and even drives it.

Elton John's score is also wonderful. Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse, the show has a Les Miz familiarity that makes the miners' plight an epic one. But the true success of the score is the intimates moments, such as "The Letter," in which we see the human connection between the characters.

Kawalik is the most experienced of the current Billys, having played the role in London. He's very strong and eminently likable. His scenes with the flamboyant Michael, David Bologna, were the audience favorites, and deservedly so. The scenes are strong, and Bologna is a natural ham who shines.

Ian MacNeil's set is big and complicated, and it always supports the production without overwhelming it. The visual image on the stage is often arresting. And the production puts its own stamp on the material.

So much care has gone into translating Billy Elliot from film to stage, and this big, beautiful, emotional show has so much going for it. One can almost understand the decision to improve the chances for commercial success by leaving people on their feet with big smiles on their faces. Almost. The decision costs the show much of its integrity in the final moments and that's really a shame.

No Day But Today

It's been a couple of weeks since I got to see Rent: Filmed Live on Broadway at the Cinemagic Theater. As both documentation of the final performances of the stage version of Rent and my first foray into digital cinematic projection, it was a great afternoon at the movies.

The final cast of Rent was a strong one, and it was great to see that the show retained its vibrancy even as things like "AZT breaks" became dated references that locked the show in the past. The staging had a raw feel to it that the movie (which I did like) sacrificed to polish. The filmed live version did a great job of capturing the energy of the show.

Digital projection is also rich. A voice-sync issue at the beginning had the audience squirming a bit, but once it locked in the sound and visual were sharp and compelling. It never felt like watching TV on a big, really big, screen. Two thumbs up.

In the Heights

Here's something about me: I feel the magic of theater most strongly when a production is greater than the sum of its parts. Take Wicked, for example. Decent music, mediocre lyrics, good production. But the result is pure magic and a fantastic night at the theatre, oft repeated. Spring Awakening has incredible parts that amount to far more than just the sum of them. On the other hand, as much as I appreciated Caroline or Change, it was exactly the sum of its parts. It was fine, but it wasn't magical. Something to be appreciated more than loved.

Add to the list of sum=parts In the Heights. The show is creative and has wonderful energy. The score is fine; the acting is good; the story is a cut above mediocre. And the show itself is never more than that. It wasn't a bad afternoon at the theater, but it paled considerably next to the other two shows I saw last weekend, Spring Awakening (see below) and August: Osage County (thoughts forthcoming).

In the Heights is original in many ways. The choreography is fresh and original. The hip-hop, latin influenced songs are mostly excellent. It's great to see diversity and fresh perspectives on Broadway.

In all honesty, though, I didn't find the perspective all that fresh. It felt like a very traditional musical packaged in some very contemporary clothes. The three key plot elements involving a lottery ticket, a death and a departure are easily predicted. And the emotion is communicated, not felt, which ultimately leaves the audience unmoved.

Since seeing the show I've been debating whether understudy Shaun Taylor-Corbett, subbing for Lin-Manuel Miranda, bears much of the responsibility. I've heard from several people that they wept out loud at In the Heights, though there was not a moist eye or sniffle in my audience.

I must admit that my intermission thought was "Passing Strange lost to this?!?!?

The show is always competent and often engaging. Sometimes it's even mesmerizing, as in the opening number or the Act I blackout. But it was too predictable to be magical. As much as I admired it, I was never moved by it.

I got a lot out of In the Heights, but I wanted more. As fine as the elements of the show are, I was never transported. Will I see it again when it passes through Boston? In a second!!

Spring Redux

Eighteen months after I first saw the original cast of Spring Awakening I had the chance to take it in again on Friday night. Given all I haven't seen, Spring wouldn't have been on my list except for one reason: Hunter Parrish stepped into the role of Melchior a week earlier than planned. Verdict? In three days, Parrish has developed a fully realized character that breaths fresh life into Spring Awakening. He's fantastic.

Not that Spring was on life support, nor is Parrish alone in providing fresh new insights into these intriguing characters. The show maintains its energy and relevance in droves, and it's just a great night at the theater.

Alexandra Socha is a fine Wendla, in my view superior to Lea Michelle. Gerard Canonico, memorable as the understudy on stage right in the original cast, has permanently assumed the role of Moritz. He, too, gives a fine performance. The creative team has done something very special and rare on Broadway these days. They have replaced the original cast with very different actors (from body type to vocal style) and given them great freedom to bring their own interpretation to their characters. None of them does this more successfully than Emma Hunton whose Ilse in almost unrecognizable from Lauren Pritchard's. Hunton's Ilse is fragile, touched, not the confident earth nymph so memorably portrayed by Pritchard. It's a true departure and a brilliant performance.

Christine Estabrook and Glenn Fleshler are generally strong in the adult roles, though Estabrook tends to go broad when she might be more restrained.

But in the end, it's Parrish who is the revelation. Melchior must be the glue that holds everything together in Spring Awakening, and he must be the catalyst that sets and keeps everything in motion. Parrish understands Melchior. His voice is perfect for the role. He has such ease on stage and with his character.

Stay tuned for my thoughts on In the Heights and August: Osage County, as well as long overdue reviews of The Dark Knight and Mamma Mia!

A Littler Night Music

I had a fabulous trip this Tuesday to Tanglewood with friends I hadn't seen in awhile. The evening was beautiful, though it smiled only twice. The occasion? The Boston Pops Concert production of A Little Night Music with Christine Ebersole, Ron Raines and Mary Louise Wilson Bobbie Steinbach. Steinbach stepped in for Wilson, who apparently had scheduling conflicts the day before the Boston performance. (So much for the Grey Gardens gimmick.

The score remains among Sondheim's best and was extraordinarily well performed by the Pops orchestra. The book was nicely edited to capture the sting and humor. So, it felt like Night Music should feel. The staging was largely non-existent. The members of the quintet would bring a chair to center stage when necessary and a chaise was used a couple of times for Desiree. So, the effectiveness of the piece rested largely on the shoulders of the cast, and they were up to the challenge of performing Night Music in the shed at Tanglewood...mostly.

A word on Ebersole in a moment. Ron Raines was a terrific Frederick. He was vocally crisp and his acting was strong. Steinbach was also exceptional, and the circumstances of her appearance endeared her to the audience. Her history with Madame Armfeldt also allowed her to be the only person off book the entire evening. The rest of the company came largely from the Tanglewood company and represented the pops well. Katherine Growden (Charlotte) and Rebecca Jo Loeb (Petra) were particular standouts, but there wasn't a weak link in the bunch.

And what of Ms. Ebersole? If I'm to be totally honest, I can only say mixed. I must admit I had high expectation. I am a huge fan, and I thought the casting was perfect. (My drive was far longer than the performance.) I think her first act was shaky and somewhat unfortunate. Everyone in the cast was off-book for the musical numbers and relied on the scripts for the book scenes to varying degrees. Ebersole needed the script throughout, even for the lyrics. This was hugely problematic for "You Must Meet My Wife," and the overall effect was that she was less prepared than her colleagues on stage. Things improved in the second act, and she ended the show with perhaps the most profound "Send in the Clowns" I've ever heard. It was breathtaking. All could be forgiven/ The audience was riveted, the applause thunderous and well deserved. The last 15 minutes of the show were as perfect as any performance of "A Little Night Music" I have ever seen.

Keith Lockhart conducted the Pops to a thrilling conclusion. He made a great argument for the timelessness of the piece and for bringing musical theater to the canon of pops orchestras.

13

Goodspeed is producing a pre-Broadway engagement of Jason Robert Brown's new musical, 13, and I was privileged enough to take it in at its final scheduled performance. The show has some problems, but there is so much to recommend.

13 is an intimate musical about turning 13. Evan Goldman is about to turn 13 when his parents divorce and his mother moves him from Manhattan to Appleton, Indiana. Evan is faced with the dilemmas that always confront the new kid: Which clique will he join? Who will attend his bar mitzvah? Will he be a cool kid? When is tongue appropriate? The show takes place over the six weeks between his arrival and his bar mitzvah, with an ending that could have been a sell-out, but isn't.

I'm a fan of Brown's scores, big (Parade) and small (Last Five Years). 13 uses a 4-piece band of teens, and they do a great job with a score that is terrific. Only the second act opener, "Anything You Want," seems out of place, and most of the score ranks among his best. I do wonder, though, whether broadway can handle two shows with songs about kissing with tongue running simultaneously.

The book also has great humor. It's certainly going to be the most of-the-moment show, with constant references to texting, MySpace, Facebook, iChat and the like. But there's not much gravitas to the story. Will a show in which the dramatic tension hinges on whether the cool kids will come to Evan's bar mitzvah (and the corollary: are the cool kids really that cool) draw an adult audience?

The central conflict will draw and hold the attention of young kids and teens. That was clear at the performance, where a good forty percent of the audience was under 16. But adults without kids are more likely to find it a pleasant experience rather than a stirring, challenging, or engaging one.

The production at the Norma Terris Theatre is solid, but not stirring. The cast is largely inconsistent and several key performances are inconsistent within. Graham Phillips, who shares the role of Evan, had some nice moments, particularly when dueting with Aaron Simon Gross or Allie Trimm. But he never quite nails the character, and he moves awkwardly (and not in a way that necessarily fits with the character). The rest of the cast is largely no better and no worse, though Gross and Trimm have some fine moments, and Eric Nelson has great technique and presence.

There is much to recommend about 13. The score alone warranted the nearly 3-hour drive to Chester, and the book is often laugh-out-loud funny. It was also wonderful to see the show at this sage of its development. But mostly 13 is a divertissement. It's talented kids singing and very talented kids playing a score by a great composer that is quite entertaining but ultimately about as deep as the problems faced by its 13 13 year olds.

Passing Strange: The Original Cast Recording

How do you sell a Broadway show that is so infinitely greater than the sum of its parts? I watched Passing Strange, one of my top-five theater experiences, on The View and thought it came off horribly. I've seen the commercial. Doesn't make me want to see the show. The web site? Well it's a little better, but nothing that makes the show a must-see. So, I had some hope that the original cast recording would capture at least some of the extraordinariness of Passing Strange.

Passing Strange is now available on iTunes and will be available on CD next month. In all honesty, the show doesn't translate all that well to cast album either. It brings back great memories of the experience of seeing the show live, but hasn't been all that impressive to the uninitiated.

The album is a live recording, a great idea given the way the audience's energy informs the show. On the recording, however, the audience seems distant and appreciative rather than enthusiastic. The recording never approaches the level of energy the show itself reaches.

The songs also seem truncated. The endings often seem abrupt. One- or two-minute songs that work seamlessly at the Belasco come across as excerpts on the cast album. So, ultimately don't think the album will sell anyone on the show.

There are some great things about the show and the recording. The performances are excellent. Stew comes off great, as do most of the supporting cast. Daniel Breaker is very good, though he seems less of a presence than on stage. The music is also excellent and the great songs from the show give me memory chills every time I give it a listen.

Cry-Baby

Now that the reviews are out, it's high time I add my thoughts about Cry-Baby, the latest John Waters film-to-stage adaptation that opened at the Marquis on Thursday. The show is based on the film that helped Johnny Depp on his way to stardom.

Cry-Baby is John Waters' version of the sweet naive virginal girl who falls for the bad-boy outcast. You can see it currently in the Grease revival stinking up the boards, or in a gazillion other films, television shows and plays. How does this one measure up? Right square in the middle, I would guess. It's not bad, but it's not particularly engaging either.

The musical captures much of the plot of the film, but the characters are largely bland iterations of their filmic counterparts. James Snyder is sexy, but not special as Cry-Baby. Perhaps he and the equally bland Elizabeth Stanley as Allison are really made for each other. The rest of the cast--Harriet Harris excepted--even pales by comparison.

James Snyder said in an interview that Cry-Baby is Hairspray's dirty sibling. Not really. The show would be helped immensely by more crassness and tastelessness and raunch. But this is a musical for the mainstream, and it never takes the risk to be bad.

And so, it's never particularly good either. At $54 for preview performances, it was a not unpleasant divertissement. But in the company of any of the other shows I saw that week, it was a distant last.

Sunday

It's great to see Sunday in the Park with George on the boards again. I find it to be one of Stephen Sondheim's great scores (greater scores, they're all great)--an intellectual work with great heart and insight. The Act I finale has always moved me to tears, and I've had the luxury of seeing three great productions: Patinkin/Peters (OBC), Esparza/Kuhn (Kennedy Center Sondheim Festival) and now the Roundabout Theatre's import of the Menier Chocolate Factory production.

This production features direction by animator Sam Buntrock and imports the London leads Daniel Evans and Jenna Russell. It's a wonderful production, and the fantastic animation never overwhelms the production, it only enhances it. The strength of Sunday in the Park with George has always been the near-prefect first act. This production finds great strength and deeper meaning in the second act.

Daniel Evans and Jenna Russell are fine as George and Dot/Marie. Russell's Dot is quiet and sometimes hard to hear. Her Marie, though, is wonderful and provides great focus for the second act. Truth be told, as wonderful as Evans and Russell are, I don't think think they're an essential component of the Buntrock production. In other words, I could imagine the production without them.

So what's different? The score is played by a group of five musicians. At times it's effective and at times the score sounds thin. The show is softly miked. Even in the balcony we often heard the voices directly from the stage. How uncommon is that?

But really, it's the production design that brings great new life to this Sunday. It's inspired, creative, an just so right for the show.

Passing Strange

Moments into Passing Strange you realize this will be a different theatrical experience. Shortly thereafter you think, "This is going to be great." Then Stew and company arrive in Amsterdam and, well, I can't speak for anyone else, but I was trembling and struggling to catch my breath I was so awed. As the wall of sound from "Keys" washed over me, as the emotional intensity of Youth in Amsterdam punched me in the gut, I was transported.

After that defining moment in my three decades of theatergoing, I was hooked. And things only got better and better. I'd call this a top-5 experience in my life.

Nominally, Passing Strange is the story of Stew, in the show he's the narrator and tour guide, as he travels from L.A. to Amsterdam and Berlin to find himself, his identity--to find what is real. His Black, middle-class existence is a mask he needs to yank from his face. Youth (Daniel Breaker) is the young man looking to find something real.

The journey is less about the physical move from the U.S. to Europe--though this journey is critical to Youth's self-discovery--than it is about the more personal journey that Youth must go through to find his place in the world.

Add to that ongoing ruminations on reality as a social construct, identity, and art, set them to driving rock rhythms, and personify these ideas in the bodies of an extraordinary cast, and you have something so stirring and original my love for the power of theater was ignited again and raised to new heights. Suddenly the brilliant Gypsy felt like a history lesson.

Annie Dorsen's staging is also worth mention. The tiniest moments of interaction between Stew and Youth have tremendous power. The cast is used to brilliant effect on a stage that seems bare and cluttered as needed, sometimes simultaneously.

I was also thrilled to see such a diverse audience. The racial and age diversity gave me great hope for music theater. The 70-year-old women to my right were the first on their feet at the curtain call and engaged in an intellectual comparison of Passing Strange and Spring Awakening. The young men to behind me were high school students.

It's worth taking a look at the website, and the two songs on the site are great, But don't be fooled for one second that you're getting more than the tiniest fraction of the strange beauty that is Passing Strange.

Everything's Coming Up Phlegm

"Ladies and Gentlemen, We regret to inform you that Patti LuPone is not feeling well today. However, in the true spirit of Broadway, the show must go on, and Ms. LuPone will appear at today's performance."

Thus began one of the stranger theatrical experiences I've had. Not only was Ms. LuPone ill, but Laura Benanti was coughing up a storm. Boyd Gaines hacked a bit here and there, and you'd swear that half the cast was struggling with a cold. Mama Rose always carried a hankie.

My first thought was back to the late 70s and early 1980s when I saw Yul Brenner in the touring revival of King and I. At the three different performances I saw over several months, Mr. Brenner was not feeling well. It was a gimmick then. Not yesterday, but just as effective.

I've rarely witnessed the kind of applause that Laura Benanti received at the curtain call, and I've never seen the Kind of Applause LuPone received at the end of "Rose's Turn" or during the curtain call. A rare standing ovation during the performance.

OK, so what about the show. All you've heard about Gypsy is true. This is the role that LuPone was born to play, and she knows it. Her performance was extraordinary, but she's given a huge boost by Benanti. I've appreciated Benanti's work in the past, but I found her Louise to be truly masterful. Gaines is also wonderful as Herbie.

The production lacks the big sets of the recent Bernadette Peters revival, but what it lacks in technical stagecraft it more than makes up for with a huge orchestra that produces a gorgeous sound not heard recently on Broadway. The supporting cast is uniformly stellar.

This is not your mama's Mama Rose. If Peters introduced a new level of sensuality into Mama, LuPone turns up the heat even more. When Herbie and Rose meet for the first time, you can almost see the tent forming in his pants. He's hooked, and we're hooked, even though we know where this is headed.

I have always appreciated Gypsy, but more often than not on an intellectual level. This Gypsy punched me in the gut and carried me along on an emotional level. It's nothing short of great theater.

Avenue Q: Boston

It doesn't suck to be them. The national tour of Avenue Q has made a stop in Boston, and it's terrific. This was my third opportunity to see the show and my first without most of the original cast. The show was as fresh and exciting as the first time I saw it. I have to admit, that was totally unexpected.

The members of the company put their own stamps on the roles created so successfully by the still amazing original cast. This Avenue Q stands on its own. The humor--the shock and awe--is all there, but the show was also surprisingly moving. I had forgotten that. Rob McClure gives us a full-bodied Rod that brought more than me to tears. Well, misting. His Princeton was also fantastic. Kelli Sawyer was also remarkable as both Kate Monster and Lucy T. Slut.

The supporting puppeteers were also fine. David Benoit and Minglie Chen bring originality to a host of characters. Chen, particularly, has amazing moments with the Bad Idea Bears that were unmatched in previous visits to the show.

The production preserves just about everything from the original production. The TV monitors are deployed differently (but just as effectively as on Broadway) and a few edits to the text probably make it run more smoothly.

For me, this has been a highlight of the Boston season!

A couple of additional thoughts:

The show is not perfect. Ann Harada did a better job than Angela Ai at making Christmas Eve less of a stereotype, but there's too much laughing at the stereotype and too little laughing with. I've seen Ai twice, and she was far superior having inherited the role rather than understudying it. Still, it's a big miss for me.

I wasn't sure how it would be seeing the show in a theater four times the size of the Golden. I have to admit, I liked it. Two moments--the puppet sex scene and "George Bush...is only for now..."--got huge, huge receptions. The size of the audience generated a lot of great energy.

This production sealed Avenue Q as one of my favorite musicals of the decade.

Eliza's Little Dog Laughed

We had a wonderful trip to Boston yesterday to see a spectacular theater double feature: My Fair Lady, the U.S. national tour of the Cameron Macintosh British production, and The Little Dog Laughed, the Speakeasy Stage Company production at the Calderwood Pavilion. Both shows, while not perfect, made for an incredible day of theater (with another shoutout to B&G Oysters for a great meal in between).



My Fair Lady arrives in a strong production with Trevor Nunn's staging and Matthew Bourne's choreography largely in tact. The production was led by a mix of those from the British production (Christopher Cazenove as Henry Higgins and Lisa O'Hare as Eliza Doolittle) and American additions (Walter Charles as Pickering, Marni Nixon as Mrs. Higgins, Tim Jerome as Alfred P. Doolitle and Justin Bohon as Freddie).

Having read much about this new staging, I expected the production elements to provide the excitement. I was most impressed, however, by the company. Everyone had a great day with very strong performances across the board. That's what kept me engaged for three hours. Cazenove and, particulatly, O'Hare give stellar performances that make this production authentic. It's also a great to see Marni Nixon stepping into the role of Mrs. Higgins. Justin Bohon is a charming Freddy. Certainly, the crowd-pleaser at yesterday's performance was Tim Jerome. Matthew Bourne provides some of his strongest choreography for Doolittle.

Bourne does nice work here. His Ascott Gavotte is elegant and laugh-outloud funny at the same time. The two-classes structure gives him ample opportunity to vary the choreography with great effect.

Nunn tries hard to make the show work in a post-postfeminist world. It doesn't quite. Often it feels like a period piece. A history lesson. Mrs. Higgins cheers on Eliza and pushes the independent woman in her. But she still goes back to Henry in the end. The turn-it-on-its-head staging of the last line, "bring me my slippers," isn't quite enough to get us past the belief that Eliza would be better off not having gone back.

That said, this My Fair Lady still adds up to more than its substantial parts and delivers a fresh production with great talent.

Note: If you didn't have a chance to hear the NPR interview with Sally Ann Howe and Marni Nixon as Nixon was transitioning into Howe's role in the tour, it's a extraordinary opportunity to hear two great and under-appreciated acctresses hold forth.



The Little Dog Laughed closed in New York about three weeks before we were supposed to see it. So, it was with some glee and great appreciation that we headed to Boston for the Speakeasy Stage Company's production with Maureen Keiller, Robert Serrell, Jonathan Orsini and Angie Jepson. The Little Dog Laughed, by Douglas Carter Beane, is the story of a closeted, Oscar-winning superstar who becomes attached to a rentboy and his vicious agent, who is much more interested in his career than his person.

The play is hilarious, and this production captures most of the laughs. Beane always goes for the laugh, though, when more attention to the emotion and the story might better serve the play. All for actors do justice to the material. although all but Orsini (rentboy Alex) were somewhat inconsistent.

As Mitchell Greene's caustic agent Diane, Keiller gets the lion's share of the play, both in monologues and scenes with Mitch and Alex. Although nearly flawless in the second act, she lacked the necessary intensity in the first act. Serrell's Mitch hardly seems the stuff of which superstars are made, though he, too, has shining moments. After a dead-on first act, Jepson is less effective in the second act. In many instances, though, it's hard to tell whether it's the performance (closing night, by the way) or whether Beane has let them down.

Only Jonathan Orsini seems to find his character and stick with him through the highs and lows of the journey. It's also Alex who is most poorly treated by Beane. Alex is truly smitten with Mitch, and not ashamed (nor thrilled) with his day job. His innocence and his rage come through clearly and at perfect pitch.

The thinness of the plot is largely secondary to the caustic, biting commentary that oozes throughout The Little Dog Laughed. This is where Douglas Carter Beane shines. And this is where the audience is driven to bouts of laughter almost guaranteed to give you a stitch in your side.

Another note: Jonathan Orsini heads out today to pick up the role of Alex in the Hartford production of The Little Dog Laughed, after an emergency appendectomy forced that production's Alex, Jeremy Jordon, to the sidelines.

Bare...the album

I've lived with Bare for a few days now. If you don't know the story behind the album release, Bare is a small show that played way-off broadway (in L.A. and New York) in 2004. It was announced for a commercial run that never materialized. A free highlights disk was released in anticipation of the commercial run. As the regional rights became available the creative team decided to do a full studio cast recording. They expected to sell a few disks, but were deluged with orders that delayed its arrival on my doorstep by almost a month.

I had the opportunity to see the New York production of Bare. While I thought it was tragically flawed, I also developed a great affection for the show. The original CD is one of the few recordings to have permanent space on my iPod. Having the complete recording has only increased my affection for the show. I think it's still flawed, but there are truly extraordinary moments throughout.

Since it's not a well-known show, a word about the plot. Bare is set in a Catholic boarding school, spanning the feast of the epiphany to high school graduation. Peter and Jason have been lovers throughout high school. Peter is ready to bust out of the closet; Jason isn't. The terrified Jason has a one-night stand with Ivy. She gets pregnant; Jason has even more to deal with...and he doesn't deal well.

What's to love? The recording has been beautifully assembled. The cast has not a single weak link. Matt Doyle (standing by over at Spring Awakening) is an amazing Peter. I thought Michael Arden offered the definitive Peter, but Matt does fantastic. James Snyder is fine as Jason. Jenna Leigh Green is also fine as Ivy. I think her performance on stage surpasses her album performance, but this is a quibble. She's also faced with a character I still find poorly drawn. (More on that in a moment.) All 12 actors who make up the student cast are great, and the adults are, too. A particular shout out to Kaitlin Hopkins who also repeats from the New York cast with great emotion.

The music is also great. Moving, memorable. People have said the music is a mashup of Rent and Spring Awakening, but it has great originality and beauty. The style is appropriate to the show. The lyrics, too, support the show well. There are certainly clunkers among the lyrics, but many more moments are inspired.

Bare particularly feels fresh and real--maybe even raw--in its representation of boarding school teens. Over the years, friends have recounted Catholic boarding school experiences, and their stories would fit right in with those in Bare. The cliques, drugs, relationships all ring true.

Most of the changes are for the good. The new lyrics for "Epiphany" give the opening a better vibe and cleaner start. Tweaks throughout add some nice humor (though there was always humor). Sister Chantelle gets a bluesier "911 Emergency," which is the only jarring change from the past recording.

So, why do I still hesitate? The cliche. For so much of the album I have the feeling that it ranks with the best I've heard. Nonetheless, I still struggle to get past Jason and Ivy's relationship. It's to cliche to have everyone consider her a slut, when we know she's a virgin. Really, her chastity serves only one function: to make it clear that Jason is the father when we realize she's pregnant in Act II. And Jason's struggle throughout often seems stuck firmly in the 80's. (SPOILER ALERT) The album allows for the possibility that Jason's death is an accidental overdose rather than a suicide, but his struggle with coming out feels so dated. That's in stark contrast to the rest of the story, which feels fresh and current.

And if that's my only complaint, it keeps Bare from being very great theater. Flaws and all, though, Bare is special. It's special for me personally, but it's also special because of the love and care that has gone into assembling the recording.

In addition to the video above, check out the website.

And check out these scenes from the NY production:

Attend the Tale...

I've seen many productions of Sweeney Todd over the years. Most recently I've seen the Mrs. Lovetts of Christine Baranski, Patti LuPone and, now, Judy Kaye. I've seen recreations of the original production--well the tour at least--small productions by local groups and the Sondheim Festival production. Last year, I saw the John Doyle production with LuPone, and I was blown away. The only negative comment I had at the time was the distraction caused by how overwhelmed I was by the talent onstage. It went something like this: "Oh my god, now he's playing the violin, now he's playing the clarinet, now he's playing the keyboard, and he's singing at the same time. Wait, did Sweeney just kill someone?"

I was thrilled that my first foray into Boston theater was going to be the Sweeney tour, because I wanted to share the experience and relive it. The talent is just as amazing, but the wonder of this production is that it felt fresh and different. Like Chris Caggiano at Everything I Know I learned from Musicals I saw the Todd understudy David Garry. I found the performance to be a compelling one, though undersung. (Someone asked, "Does Sweeney always shout his lines?")

But this is Judy Kaye's Sweeney Todd. She brings a new sensibility to the role, and it has most to do with what I liked about the tour. She gets nice laughs, but different ones than LuPone. Her performance isn't quite as dark, but it makes for a more menacing climax. And when Sweeney is ushering Mrs. Lovett to her death, she's already sensed the inevitability of it in a way that moved me more than other productions.

The other compelling performance in the tour, and almost as responsible for its freshness is Edmund Bagnell in the pivotal role of Tobias. Caggiano is dead on when he notes that Bagnell brings a different but equally compelling performance to that of Manoel Felciano in the Broadway incarnation.

Finally, snaps to John Doyle for direction that remains crisp and illuminating. The sparseness of the orchestrations allow for the lyrics to shine through in wondrous ways. The conceit of having actors and orchestra in one is still fresh and creative.

And at the end of the show I still had to say, "Where do they find such incredible talent?"