Do You Hear the People Sing?

Movie Review:  Les Miserables

Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman, the most impressive of the highly accomplished stars of Les Miserables.

 

Musical theatre fans everywhere can breathe a sigh of relief.  The long awaited big screen adaptation of Les Miserables is not just a good movie musical but a great one, working as both a successful adaptation and a strong film in its own right.  Tom Hopper’s lovingly crafted epic may have a few faults, but they are mere nitpicks in a film that does so much right with what could have gone so very wrong.

The plot of Les Miserables, the musical adaptation of Victor Hugo’s sprawling novel, tells the story of convicted thief Jean Valjean and his lifelong struggle towards redemption in 19^th century France.  After breaking his parole, Valjean goes into hiding and eventually meets disgraced factory worker Fantine before becoming the guardian of her daughter Cosette.  The pair moves to Paris, where Cosette falls in love with student revolutionary Marius right before he spearheads a violent uprising against the Parisian elite.  All the while, Valjean is relentlessly pursued by the rigid Inspector Javert, the one man who knows Valjean’s past and could see him locked away forever.

For those who wondered how Hopper and screenwriter William Nicholson would condense the three-hour pop opera into a typical movie runtime, the short answer is they didn’t.  Although a couple of verses and some incidental music have been trimmed, every musical number from the stage version is represented (even “Turning”).  The order has been tweaked, but as in West Side Story these changes feel organic and are often for the best.  Hopper and Nicholson have even found room for a new song, “Suddenly,” which illustrates the instant connection and responsibility Valjean feels for young Cosette.  It may not be equal to the greatest pieces of Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boublil’s score, but it works as a nice character moment and a welcome change of pace from all the bombastic power ballads.

The transfer from stage to screen does reveal some flaws in Les Miserables’ construction, as elements that go unquestioned in the theatre feel underwritten on the big screen.  The reasons behind the student uprising that forms the crux of the second half are never satisfactory explained (something about “the people”), and the love triangle between Cosette, Marius, and street urchin Eponine is underexplored.  But while some details could stand fleshing out, the emotional truth of the story remains intact and powerful, and those prone to tears should definitely bring some tissues.

The star-studded cast is uniformly excellent, even those with zero musical or theatrical experience.  Hugh Jackman anchors the movie with his innate charisma and a fine flair for the dramatic, with his expressive face conveying the depth of Valjean’s internal conflict.  His voice does sound a wee bit strained on the high notes, but I can’t think of another movie star better qualified to tackle such a mammoth role.  And if we’re going to get really nitpicky, they probably could have aged Jackman more for the movie’s final act, although the actor’s expressive eyes go a long way towards conveying Valjean’s growing weariness.

The true revelation among the cast is Anne Hathaway’s devastating turn as Fantine, the factory girl who resorts to prostitution in order to support herself and her child.  Hathaway pulls out all the stops for her bravura performance, committing to the role physically and emotionally in a way few actresses could manage.  In a film full of big songs her “I Dreamed a Dream” is the showstopper, a gut-wrenching depiction of a woman with nothing more to lose.  Hathaway is a guaranteed Oscar nominee, and it’s unfortunate the constraints of the story keep her from being in more of the movie.  Whenever she does appear, it is pure movie magic.

Russell Crowe does an excellent job as the relentless Inspector Javert, although the role’s restrained nature keeps him from cutting loose the way his costars can.  Crowe possesses an unexpectedly strong singing voice, and while his strict adherence to the written rhythms is initially jarring in comparison to everyone else’s free-form recitative, it ultimately works as a character choice which further illustrates his unbending nature.  Amanda Seyfried has surprisingly little to do as Cosette (while none of her material has been cut, the role feels much more substantial in the stage version), and while a fine actress her lightning-quick vibrato is the one vocal quirk this reviewer can’t quite overlook.  Seyfried does have excellent chemistry with Eddie Redmayne’s Marius, and the young actor’s ease in the role goes a long way towards making the second half of the film work.

Samantha Banks’ Eponine is gloriously sung and looks properly pensive, although her underwritten character arc doesn’t leave as much of an impression as it could have.  Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter are perfectly cast as the wily Thenardier and his wife, and their scene stealing antics provide some much-needed levity amid all the angst and suffering.  Of all the major characters, the Thenardiers have the least bearing on the central plot, but Cohen and Carter are so hysterical that their every appearance is appreciated.

The movie’s production design is exemplary, with the dingy costumes, makeup, and set design giving the musical a grounded quality it never had onstage.  The sweeping vistas on display are quite breathtaking, but unfortunately Hopper’s direction is much more enamored with various awkward close-ups.  It’s difficult to tell if the problem stems from the precise angle of the camera or from the actors’ visible discomfort directly addressing it, but these shots pull your attention out of the movie and make many of the solos appear visually flat.  The few that do switch up the shooting style, such as “Stars” and “Master of the House,” are notably stronger for it.

Overall, Les Miserables is a stunning achievement that should delight fans of the stage version and nonbelievers alike.  Top-tier production values and truly compelling performances help disguise the source material’s occasional shortcomings, and the movie manages the difficult task of remaining faithful to the stage version while simultaneously succeeding on its own merits.  Any theatre aficionado owes it to themselves to see this movie, and rediscover the joys of one of the seminal musicals of the past thirty years.

Best Shows of 2012: #6

Best of 2012

#6 – Jesus Christ Superstar

Jesus learns that living in NYC means ignoring the noise coming from right next to you.

 

Until last spring’s Broadway revival, I couldn’t even begin to fathom the enduring appeal of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Jesus Christ Superstar.  An indulgently screechy rock opera written for singers with superhuman voices, the show features almost zero character development and a poorly scripted plot that’s nearly incomprehensible to those not already familiar with the story of Jesus Christ’s final days.  But after viewing director Des McAnuff’s pulse-pounding production, I finally “got” the show and why it has continued to appeal to generations of fans.

A dynamically engaging post-apocalyptic setting combined with McAnuff and choreographer Lisa Shriver’s propulsive movement gave this Superstar a drive few musicals can muster.  Each subsequent number would build upon the one which preceded it, and suddenly Lloyd Webber’s constant repetition of melodies and motifs felt purposeful and even necessary.  This staging successfully captured the giddy, over-the-top nature of a rock concert, while simultaneously adding unexpected depth to the show’s key interpersonal dynamics.  Now the relationships between Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene weren’t just talked about but deeply felt, communicated through piercing stares and telling body language.

The entire cast deserves kudos for effortlessly highlighting the show’s hidden complexity and handling its vocal demands as well as any group of actors I’ve ever seen.  Paul Nolan’s pitch perfect rock tenor even managed to make the unending bombast of Jesus’ “Gethsemane” palatable, with the fact that he looked like the walking embodiment of every Renaissance painting of Christ serving as an added bonus.  Although I missed Josh Young’s Tony-nominated Judas due to the actor’s pervasive health issues, understudy Jeremy Kushnier was an entirely compelling anti-hero who genuinely struggled with the decision to betray his former friend.  And Chilina Kennedy’s Mary was the perfect foil for the two estranged friends at the show’s center, delivering the oft-sung “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” with refreshing honesty and conviction.

Jesus Christ Superstar will never be a great show, but this was a truly great production capable of converting even the show’s most ardent critics, myself included.  As a theatrical event and musical experience it exceeded all possible expectations, presenting a fresh take on the tired and at times overwrought material.  Unfortunately Superstar failed to find much of an audience and has long since closed, but those lucky enough to have seen it know why it was one of the Best Shows of 2012.

 

For a full review of Jesus Christ Superstar, click here.

Best Shows of 2012: #7

Best of 2012

#7 – Clybourne Park

Proof the white people should never, EVER attempt to "raise the roof."

 

Clybourne Park’s Broadway transfer almost didn’t happen.  Despite winning both the Pulitzer Prize for Drama and the Olivier Award for Best New Play, its planned Broadway bow was thrown into question when lead producer Scott Rudin withdrew from the production after a dispute with playwright Bruce Norris.  Thankfully producer/theatre owner Jordan Roth swooped in to save the show, as Clybourne Park’s mixture of black comedy and thought-provoking rhetoric made for a fantastically stimulating night at the theatre.

Set in the fictional Chicago neighborhood of Clybourne Park, Act I took place in 1959 and Act II took place in 2009.  The first half of the play concerned the imminent arrival of the neighborhood’s first black family (implied but never explicitly stated to be the Younger family from Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun), while the latter portion dealt with a white family moving into the now all-black neighborhood.  This structure allowed the play to make many fascinating observations about how racism has and hasn’t changed over the past five decades, and if the first act seemed slow the near perfection of the second half not only elevated the evening but proved everything which preceded it was necessary to fully understanding what Norris had to say.

An actor himself, Norris managed to create two equally compelling sets of nuanced characters, making the racially-charged dialogue feel organic rather than didactic.  Norris also expertly avoided the trap of oversimplifying his arguments, letting every character make valid points which challenged the audience’s beliefs.  It was refreshing to see both black and white characters portrayed as equally right (and wrong), and that quality helped make Clybourne Park an especially satisfying encapsulation of the endlessly complex subject of race.  Even better, the play managed to tackle all of these topics while remaining laugh-out-loud funny, providing a welcome respite from the weighty matters being discussed.

The cast of Clybourne, all of whom originated their roles in the play’s world premiere Off-Broadway, was ideal.  Under the razor-sharp direction of Pam MacKinnon, the seven-strong company was a master class in ensemble acting, supporting and playing off one another with delightful ease.  With every actor tasked with portraying two characters (one in the first act, one in the second), the specificity and nuance in their characterizations became all the more impressive.  Their chameleon-like nature allowed the audience to fully immerse itself in the play’s world, and kept the focus squarely on Norris’ crackling dialogue.  The deserved winner of this year’s Best Play Tony, Clybourne Park gave audiences the perfect blend between art and entertainment, and that is why it is one of the Best Shows of 2012.

To read my full review of Clybourne Park, click here.

Best Shows of 2012: #8

Best of 2012

#8 – Annie

Anthony Warlow and Lilla Crawford are the two stellar stars of James Lapine's handome new Annie.

 

When it first opened on Broadway in the spring of 1977, Annie received near-universal acclaim and became so prolific that even people with zero interest in musical theatre knew it by name.  The show about the little orphan with the big heart has since become synonymous with the sun-drenched optimism that typifies classic musical comedies, and in an increasingly cynical world that earnestness has made it a subject of scorn and derision.  It’s easy to forget that behind that relentlessly positive outlook lies a solidly constructed tuner just waiting for the right production to reveal its multitude of charms.

James Lapine’s splashy revival is just such a production, shedding the decades of baggage and expectation Annie brings with it to emerge as one of the year’s freshest pieces of escapist entertainment.  By focusing on the text and the truth of the show’s world, Lapine and his actors have reached a level of earnestness that makes the many songs about hope and positivity feel both genuine and necessary.  The show’s version of Depression-era New York is unabashedly naïve, but that viewpoint is wholly appropriate to the musical’s child protagonist and its message about the value of looking on the bright side of life.

Lapine has found an extremely talented group of young women to embody Annie and her orphan pals, and their unbridled enthusiasm proves to be infectious and one of the show’s strongest assets.  In a performance sure to result in a Tony nomination, Anthony Warlow’s Daddy Warbucks is sublime perfection, with his growing fondness for Annie creating some unexpectedly moving moments.  Two-time Tony-winner Katie Finneran may not be doing her best work as the villainous Miss Hannigan (and the show does suffer because of it), but the comedic actress brings plenty of raucous energy and a particular gift for physical comedy to the scene-stealing role.

Annie’s family friendly nature ensures it will be many children’s first exposure to the wonders of live theatre, and from the opening chords of the overture until the final curtain young audiences are sure to be utterly enchanted.  But fun has no age limit, and anyone who remembers (or would like to remember) the joy and limitless possibilities of youth will find plenty to appreciate in this handsome staging.  Here’s hoping that this Annie has many, many tomorrows in its future.

For my full review of Annie, click here.

Podcast Episode 4: Fall Season Wrap-Up

As 2012 fades into 2013, Jared, Brian, and Christopher look back at the past six months on Broadway and the many productions of the fall season.  Which shows impressed the most, and which ones missed the mark?  Find out as we discuss our favorites and which shows we fully expect to see among next year's Tony nominees.
 

An Off-Kilter Family Christmas

Review:  A Christmas Story

A Christmas Story finally fulfills Broadway's long-standing need for a production number centered around a leg-shaped lamp.

 

Despite its prolific holiday airings on multiple TV stations, I have never actually seen the much beloved film A Christmas Story.  Therefore I cannot judge the musical incarnation, currently playing a limited engagement at Broadway’s Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, on its fidelity to the source material, although judging by the anticipatory laughter from the packed house I assume most of the movie’s major comedic beats survived the transfer intact.  Reviewing this adaptation on its own merits, I unfortunately must report that it’s a hit or miss affair that features promising new talent led astray by some dubious directorial choices.

A Christmas Story tells the story of young Ralphie Parker, whose only goal in life is to receive a Red Ryder Carbine Action BB Gun for Christmas, despite his Mother’s repeated protestations.  “You’ll shoot your eye out,” she warns.  Ralphie’s Old Man isn’t any more receptive, being more preoccupied with winning a crossword competition and repairing the many, many broken devices around the family’s cozy Indiana home.  Ralphie’s quest for the Red Ryder Gun is really just a framing device that allows the show to explore the various mishaps that befall Ralphie and his family as they prepare for the holidays, which include various schoolyard antics, a pair of pesky bloodhounds, and some questionable home décor.

Given the saccharine sweet nature of most holiday offerings, it’s refreshing to see A Christmas Story present such an off-kilter take on traditions like visiting Santa, picking out a tree, and the all-important Christmas dinner.  While the plot gets stretched mighty thin in order to fill a two-and-a-half hour musical, the characters are endearingly quirky and the less-than-perfect holiday shenanigans feel relatable and authentic.  Joseph Robinette’s libretto commits no major sins, even if a few more sections of overt comedy would have been welcomed.  And the score by Broadway newcomers Benj Pasek and Justin Paul is a delight, establishing the young songwriters as talents to watch.

It’s unfortunate the show suffers from such uninspired direction by John Rando, the Tony-winning director of the similarly cheeky Urinetown.  Rando’s flat staging makes poor use of the stage and Walt Spangler’s set, and fails to provide the speedy pacing that would help disguise the book scene’s shortcomings.  Many of the solos end up feeling static due to Rando’s minimalist staging, but thankfully A Christmas Story also features a smattering of fantasy sequences that are a visual delight.  The Western-themed “Ralphie to the Rescue” casts the dozen-strong youth ensemble as rough-and-tumble gunslingers and sassy saloon wenches, and the speakeasy-set “You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out” is far and away the evening’s highlight.  One of the most adorable things you’ll ever see, the young performers dress up as little gangsters and flapper girls to perform a showstopping tap number that features the best dance solo currently on Broadway, made even more impressive by the fact that dancer Luke Spring is only nine-years-old.

In fact, the kids prove to be the strongest members of the show’s cast.  As Ralphie, Johnny Rabe carries the show with aplomb and finesse, acting and singing like a seasoned pro.  Zac Ballard is adorably weird as Ralphie’s younger brother Randy, throwing himself into the show’s physical comedy with the kind of abandon only a child can muster.  Jack Mastrianni and John Babbo are particularly funny as schoolyard bullies Farkus and Dill, and Jeremy Shinder’s goofy best friend Flick proves to be a welcome addition.

When it comes to the adults, John Bolton and Erin Dilly give their all as Ralphie’s Old Man and Mother respectively, but both actors are ultimately betrayed by some questionable writing and a lack of strong direction.  Bolton adeptly switches from bellowing brute to misunderstood everyman, but these personality shifts lack motivation and result in a schizophrenic performance (although his “A Major Award” production number is a winner).  Dilly’s Mother is suitably maternal, a frazzled but loving housewife who only wants what’s best for her family.  Despite some lovely vocals and fine acting from Dilly, Mother’s two songs fail to add anything interesting to her character, slowing the show down rather than enhancing it.  The rest of the adult ensemble fails to make much of an impression good or bad, and is quickly forgotten once they leave the stage.

Ultimately, A Christmas Story has a lot of things going for it.  A holiday show for those who don’t like holiday shows, it evokes the spirit of the season without resorting to cloying sentimentality.  It’s an exciting Main Stem debut for the promising songwriting duo of Pasek and Paul, who between this and Off-Broadway’s Dogfight are having quite the breakout year.  There are certainly worse ways to spend a December evening, and the show’s scheduled two month limited run seems about right for this particular musical.  A Christmas Story’s imperfections are ultimately a part of its charm, and those looking for a holiday treat will find plenty to enjoy.

Best Shows of 2012: #9

Best of 2012

#9 – The Mystery of Edwin Drood

Damned if there you are!

 

I firmly believe that Rupert Holmes’ The Mystery of Edwin Drood is one of the worst musicals ever written.  Based on Charles Dickens’ unfinished last novel, the show is two hours of uninteresting exposition and merely passable songs that mark time until we reach the musical’s central gimmick, which is letting the audience vote on the mystery’s solution and thereby choose the show’s ending.  The nearly incomprehensible “plot” and exceedingly shallow characters require a top-notch production to mask their many deficiencies and make the show even vaguely tolerable.

Thankfully, the Roundabout Theatre Company’s current Broadway revival is a top-notch production.  Filled to the brim with outstanding performances, the talent involved elevates Drood into a musical confection that’s still devoid of meaning but so much fun you hardly care.  Stephanie J. Block has found the perfect vehicle for her many talents, with her turn as the title character equally highlighting her skills as a musical comedienne and her nearly unmatched vocal prowess.  In any other show, a performance of Block’s caliber would make her the unequivocal star, but this production features so many outstanding supporting turns that Block is but one jewel in a musical crown.

Rising star Jessie Mueller demonstrates remarkable range as the fiery Helena Landless, proving just as entrancing here as she was playing the ingénue Cinderella in this summer’s Into the Woods.  As the musical’s master of ceremonies, Jim Norton turns what could be a rather bland role into one of the year’s great comedic performances, hamming things up with delightful abandon.  Will Chase chews the scenery with infectious, giddy delight as the musical’s villain, and as the object of his lascivious desires Betsy Wolfe is a dream.  The show also boasts Chita Rivera’s return to the Broadway stage after a six year absence, and this living legend proves that she’s still got it.  The sets and costumes are just as impressive as the starry cast, with William Ivey Long’s gorgeous Victorian outfits a particular standout sure to net the designer his umpteenth Tony nomination.

Roundabout’s Broadway productions have been hit or miss in recent seasons, but The Mystery of Edwin Drood is a definite hit.  The not-for-profit has given this musical a far better production than it deserves, and those high standards have resulted in one of the most entertaining musicals of the year.  Anyone looking for a carefree night of bawdy jokes and hammy performances will absolutely adore Drood, and even the most ardent Scrooges in the audience won’t be able to resist cracking a smile or two.



For my full review of The Mystery of Edwin Drood, click here.

Everything is Bigger (and Better) in Texas

Review:  Giant

Giant stars Brian D'Arcy James and Kate Baldwin share an intimate moment.

 

Giant, the latest work by the prolific if not quite mainstream composer/lyricist Michael John LaChiusa, is by no means a perfect musical.  It struggles against the weight of its own ambition and the confines of the Public’s Newman Theatre, and yet remains thoroughly engaging for the majority of its three hour runtime.  Giant is theatrical proof of the old adage that those who shoot for the moon and miss still land among the stars, and for all of its flaws this fascinating show demands to be seen by any fan of serious musical theatre.

Based on the novel of the same name by Edna Ferber, Giant chronicles three decades of life on a sprawling Texas cattle ranch called Reata.  Jordan “Bick” Benedict is the proud owner of this enormous swath of land, and Giant begins with his whirlwind courtship and marriage to wealthy Virginian socialite Leslie Lynnton.  A stranger in a strange land, Leslie struggles to come to terms with her new surroundings and the husband she hardly knows, while Bick fights to prevent former ranch hand Jett Rink and his government backers from drilling for oil on the previously unspoiled land. 

Like any good epic, Giant features a host of interrelated subplots vying for the audience’s attention, and it must be noted that LaChiusa and librettist Sybille Pearson haven’t quite found the proper balance among the various storylines.  Certain characters and incidents seem superfluous when viewed in the context of the larger narrative, while other elements feel underdeveloped or completely forgotten.  While it’s difficult to pinpoint any one portion of the show in need of major rewrites, a series of minor edits and subtle tweaks in focus would result in a more cohesive and integrated whole.  Everything in this current incarnation is exceedingly well done, but it doesn’t always feel necessary, and as a result interest starts to flag over the course of the musical’s long length.

Thankfully, Michael John LaChiusa’s score is nothing short of brilliant. Rapturous, lush, and gloriously sung, LaChiusa’s sweeping melodies are the product of a master working at the height of his artistic prowess.  LaChiusa manages the difficult trick of writing songs that feel familiar but also unexpected, traveling through a host of musical genres while maintaining a tonal cohesion that keeps the entire score sounding like the a unified vision.  One song segues beautifully into the next, and when you least expect it LaChiusa seamlessly incorporates a recurrent motif without resorting to full-fledged reprises.  The music soars, with lyrics that are at once conversational and poetic, and it is almost impossible not to be swept away by the grandeur of it all.

While LaChiusa’s score is the show’s unabashed highlight, the musical’s large cast proves equally masterful.  Anchoring the show with the greatest performance of his career, Brian D’Arcy James plays family patriarch Bick with the best possible mixture of bravado and sensitivity.  He radiates love for both the land and his family, even if his rough and tumble upbringing doesn’t always allow him to express it fully.  James’ buoyant physicality and expressive face communicate volumes without speaking, and his nuanced delivery of the show’s many soaring anthems establishes such a strong connection with the audience that his presence is felt even when he isn’t onstage.

The ever-radiant Kate Baldwin similarly astonishes as Leslie, displaying an even greater amount of the star quality that netted her a Tony nomination in the recent revival of Finian’s Rainbow.  Her Leslie is a complicated creature torn between her love of Bick (and later, their children) and her dissatisfaction with the life and social mores of rural Texas.  Yet Baldwin never allows Leslie to wallow in self-pity, displaying the quiet strength and steely determination we’ve come to associate with the great Southern women of American literature.  She also sings like a dream, navigating the tricky demands of LaChiusa’s score with the assured ease of a master vocalist.

PJ Griffith does excellent work as the musical’s pseudo-antagonist Jett, embodying the Good Old Boy archetype with sincerity and style.  It’s unfortunate the show doesn’t quite know what to do with him, as Jett never really feels connected to the other characters or to the story in general despite amble stage time.  Bobby Steggert and Mackenzie Mauzy are quite charming as Bick and Leslie’s children, although again the show doesn’t make full use of the characters’ potential.  Katie Thompson’s Vashti Hake Snythe has an even more tangential relation to the plot, but the commanding actress emerges as one of the evening’s highlights thanks to several outstanding solos.  The only person resembling a weak link is Michelle Pawk as Bick’s elder sister Luz Benedict, but after struggling with her first solo the actress recovers nicely.

Director Michael Greif and set designer Allen Moyer have done an excellent job squeezing this sprawling show into the relatively modest confines of the Newman Theatre, although their inventiveness only goes so far.  Creating a second level onstage to house the orchestra is a clever idea, although Greif’s insistence on placing some of his actors up there muddies the effect by bringing more focus to the already prominent musicians.  Moyer’s attempts at sweeping Texas vistas don’t quite read as such given the shallow stage, although the excellent lighting by Kenneth Posner goes a long way toward helping evoke the open sky.  Overall, the show looks lovely, even if the self-editing necessitated by the theatre’s size constraints is a little too apparent.

Giant is easily the most ambitious new musical of the season, and for that it must be commended.  Ferber’s novel was clearly a tough nut to crack, and the fact that the show does so much so well is a testament to the skill of all involved.  A top-notch cast and stunning score by LaChiusa make this an extremely rewarding show for theatre aficionados, and anyone with the slightest interest in Giant should make a point to see it before it closes this weekend.  Hopefully some adventurous producer will pick up the show for a Broadway transfer, as a larger theatre and one final round of revisions would make this one of the truly great musicals of the past 15 years.  But even in its current incarnation, this is a show that demands to be seen, and a shining example of the artistic heights the modern musical can achieve.

The Best Shows of 2012 Countdown

The tree is up at Rockefeller Center, the number of tourists in Times Square is steadily multiplying, and every store in the city seems to be playing holiday music.  Yes, we are fast approaching the end of 2012, and just like last year I’m going to use the upcoming month to look back at the best and worst shows of the past 12 months.  Which show will succeed The Book of Mormon as the best show of the year?  And what show will follow in Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark’s dubious footsteps and be crowned the absolute worst the New York theatre scene has to offer? 

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be counting down to my top picks, and I hope you’ll join me for this look back at the year on Broadway and beyond.  This is by no means meant to be an exhaustive or definitive list of the best and worst shows of the year.  I simply don’t have the time or money to go see everything, and so this list will be confined to productions I have actually attended, be they on Broadway or beyond.  If you disagree with me, I welcome you to make your case in the comments.  And now, without further ado, let the Best of 2012 Countdown begin!

 

Best of 2012

#10 – Into the Woods

 

Stephen Sondheim’s deconstructed fairy tale is one of the composer’s most beloved works, leading to a nearly unprecedented level of anticipation for last summer’s star-studded Shakespeare in the Park production.  The open-air staging by director Timothy Sheader proved to be especially divisive, with audiences loving and loathing it in equal measure.  While far from perfect, I personally loved this new take on the familiar musical, and appreciated the fact that Sheader and company dared to try something different with the piece.

 

The contemporary update of the show, coupled with the addition of a framing device involving a child Narrator who tells the tale to keep himself entertained after running away from home, made this staging feel fresh and unexpected.  While some complained the sprawling, multi-tiered set made the action hard to follow, I felt it added a layer of visual interest the show sorely needed, while simultaneously providing a sense of continual movement to this musical quest.  The reimagined Witch and the marauding Giant are two of the more vivid images from the past twelve months, and whether or not you agreed with all the directorial choices it was nice to see such bold ones being made on such a high-profile production.

 

Even more divisive than the staging was the cast, which admittedly was something a mixed bag, although in my opinion the good outweighed the bad.  Seeing Donna Murphy tackle the Witch proved to be one of the most thrilling performances of the year, and her show-stopping “Last Midnight” was a transcendent example of musical theatre acting at its finest.  The naysayers who complain Murphy’s performance hewed too close to Bernadette Peters’ original would have been equally offended if she had strayed too far from her predecessor’s blueprint.  Far more deserving of scorn would be the horribly miscast Dennis O’Hare as the Baker or the slightly awkward Baker’s Wife of Amy Adams.

 

Ultimately, it’s probably for the best that this production’s rumored Broadway transfer has yet to materialize.  Although the show would have benefited from some tweaking and more rehearsal time, moving the production indoors would have robbed it of a vital component of what made this Into the Woods special.  As an entertaining diversion for a balmy summer’s night, the production was hard to fault, and that is why I’ve named it one of the Best Shows of 2012.

 

For my full review of Into the Woods, click here.

Podcast Episode 3: Recent Movie Musicals

As any musical theatre fan already knows, the big budget film adaptation of Les Miserables is coming to theatres in just one short month.  In preparation for the big event, I assembled a panel of experts (well, opinionated theatre people) to discuss the modern rejuvenation of the movie musical.  I'm joined by returning podcaster Jessica and first-timers Spencer, Jackie, and Brian for a conversation about what makes for a good film adapatation of a hit stage show, as well as a frank discussion of the successes and failures of the various musical films released since 2003 Best Picture-winner Chicago.

Also, I am looking to really increase the podcast presence on this blog in the coming months, so any feedback about it is greatly appreciated.  Let me know if you like the long format or would prefer shorter installments, and any suggestions for podcast topics are always welcome.

Enjoy, and have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Sunny Days are Here Again

Review:  Annie

Lilla Crawford and Sunny the dog in the Broadway revival of Annie.

For better and for worse, the 1977 Tony-winning smash Annie has become synonymous with the words “Broadway musical.”  Its eternal cheerfulness and broad comedy represent the pinnacle of the musical-as-escapist-entertainment, allowing audiences young and old the chance to laugh away their cares for a few hours.  However, the show’s saccharine sweet reputation has caused an entire generation of potential theatregoers to avoid musical theatre like the plague, assuming the entire genre is nothing but smiling moppets singing shallow paeans to all that is good and right in the world.  Any modern revival must contend with staying true to the show’s roots while trying to appeal to the jaded cynics that make up a sizeable portion of the country’s population.

Director James Lapine’s handsome revival attempts to solve this conundrum by adopting a more grounded approach to the material, and while not always successful, his interpretation does allow the show’s enormous heart to shine bright.  Little orphan Annie’s search for a family of her own is as emotionally involving as it’s ever been, even if some of the more overtly comedic elements of Thomas Meehan’s book and Charles Strouse’s score suffer due to Lapine’s new focus.  While there are still plenty of laughs, they are not as hearty as they might have been, though the show as a whole remains thoroughly entertaining.  The young and young-at-heart will find it impossible to resist Annie’s many charms, and even this jaded critic found himself quite taken by the entire affair.

Lilla Crawford, the young actress who the New York Times dubbed “pretty much perfect” in the title role, was unfortunately absent from the performance I attended.  However, I am happy to report that her understudy, Taylor Richardson, is supremely charming as the street-smart orphan with the unwavering optimism.  There is enough sass in Richardson’s performance to keep the character’s sweetness from becoming sickening, and an innocence about her that keeps you on her side throughout the show’s entire runtime.  Her impressively bright belt makes even the oft-mocked “Tomorrow” sound fresh, and the young actress imbues the part with such sincerity that she proves impossible to resist.

Although they don’t get nearly the same amount of stage time as Richardson, the rest of this Annie’s orphans are equally talented and possibly even more adorable.  Ranging from seven to eleven years old, these precocious balls of energy sing and dance with an infectious, reckless abandon that lights up the cavernous interior of the Palace Theatre.  Lapine and choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler play up the girls’ cuteness factor without seeming gratuitous, provoking the evening’s biggest belly laughs in the process.  And while all of the orphans are standouts, tiny Emily Rosenfeld threatens to steal the show as Molly, the littlest orphan with the biggest personality.

In contrast to the uniform excellence of the child actors, the adult roles are more of a mixed bag.  On the positive side, Anthony Warlow is sublime perfection as Oliver Warbucks, the curmudgeonly billionaire who initially invites Annie to his 5^th Avenue mansion as a publicity stunt.  As Warbucks slowly falls for the plucky orphan, Warlow convincingly sheds his gruff exterior to create the most multifaceted and three-dimensional characterization of the entire show.  His gloriously sung “Something Was Missing” turns the sappy ballad into the evening’s uncontested highlight, serving as the perfect encapsulation of the unadulterated love a parent feels for their child.  In the thankless role of Warbucks’ chief secretary Grace Farrell, Brynn O’Malley is also quite lovely, though not quite on the same level as her costar and onstage boss.

Gifted with the production’s showiest role, two-time Tony-winner Katie Finneran is a slight disappointment as the evil Miss Hannigan.  A more developed variation of her Tony-winning Marge from Promises, Promises, Finneran’s take on the orphanage maven is an example of the downside to Lapine’s more grounded take on the material.  In trying to make Hannigan more sympathetic, Lapine and Finneran have lost the character’s comedic bite, leaving the show without the clear-cut villain it needs to fully succeed.  The performance is often hysterical, and the actress is especially adept at slapstick and physical comedy, but Finneran is simply too nice in the role.  By shying away from her character’s inherent meanness, she prevents her Hannigan from being the tour de force it was in the hands of Dorothy Loudon in the original or Carol Burnett in the 1982 film version.

Yet Finneran’s minor shortcomings are nothing compared to the complete ineptitude of Clarke Thorell and J. Elaine Marcos as Rooster Hannigan and his bumbling accomplice, Lily.  While not large roles, both characters are essential to the show’s plot, and in the right hands can become riotously funny scene stealers.  Thorell and Marcos seem completely unaware of this, offering up self-indulgent and decidedly unfunny portrayals of the two small time crooks.  It should be noted that Thorell makes out slightly better than Marcos, although both seem so completely out of their element that it hardly matters.

Aesthetically, David Korins’ storybook-inspired set gives the show a unique look without differing wildly from what audiences have come to expect from this classic show.  Susan Hilferty’s costumes similarly avoid reinventing the wheel, but the lovingly constructed garments look gorgeous nonetheless.  When Annie finally dons her iconic red dress late in Act II, the young actress looks truly beautiful, thanks in no small part to Hilferty’s efforts.  Andy Blankenbuehler’s choreography is a more radical departure from the norm, bordering on too contemporary for this Depression-era tale.  Blankenbuehler also needs to abandon his signature hip-hop inspired scene transitions, which have brought him diminishing returns since they first appeared in In the Heights and are wholly inappropriate here.

Overall, this production looks and feels enough like the classic Annie to avoid offending purists while offering enough subtle twists to hold the interest of those who have seen the show many times over.  This is not a radical reinvention of the material, but its enduring popularity over the past 35 years proves that the show doesn’t really need reinventing.  Under Lapine’s assured hand, this production feels fresh and offers up a bevy of top-notch performances, ensuring that the show’s target audience of young girls will absolutely adore it.  Thankfully, there is plenty for the adults to appreciate as well, and in these trying times it’s nice to have such a sparkling reminder that the sun will indeed come out tomorrow.

A Sleazy, Empty One Night Stand

Review:  The Performers

The Performers would be approximately 35.7% better if Cheyenne Jackson spent the entire show wearing this.

 

Complaining about the vulgarity in The Performers is akin to complaining the music at a rock concert is too loud.  The new comedy by David West Read is set in the world of the adult entertainment industry, so of course there’s going to be a large amount of graphic sex talk that doesn’t confine itself to proper anatomical terms.  But unlike in other, better plays, the vulgarity in The Performers doesn’t serve any higher purpose than mere shock value, and results in an evening that is both unfulfilling and forgettable.

Set in a Las Vegas hotel during the annual Adult Entertainment Awards, the play opens with porn star – or performer, to use his preferred title – Mandrew being interviewed by his high school friend Lee for a story in The New York Post.  Mandrew is married to fellow performer Peeps, who is experiencing an extreme fit of jealousy after learning he kissed scene partner Sundown LeMay (Peeps and Sundown are already in a fight over the cartoonishly large breast implants Sundown got without informing her supposed best friend Peeps).  Also in the mix are Mandrew’s older professional rival Chuck Wood and Lee’s mousy fiancée Sara, all of whom go through some sort of personal crisis that is neatly resolved by the end of the play’s short 90 minute runtime.

Read’s writing is high on dirty words but low on character development, which makes even the shortened length feel too long.  Read frequently resorts to sentimentality and clichéd observations about love and intimacy in an attempt to create audience sympathy for these walking punch lines, but it almost always falls flat.  The constant stream of obscenities and dick jokes does provide some laughter, although the frat boy sense of humor proves too lowbrow to be consistently entertaining.  To Read’s credit, there are some truly funny bits in the play’s second half, including a hilarious riff on the original Freaky Friday film and a perfectly executed callback to a previously established joke about the Where’s Waldo? book series.

The biggest laughs come courtesy of the play’s two best actresses, Ari Graynor and Jenni Barber as Peeps and Sundown, respectively.  Both women turn their insanely vapid characters into legitimate human beings, nailing the comedy while still demonstrating a convincing emotional underpinning to their shenanigans.  For all her non sequitur ramblings and incessant whining, Graynor’s Peeps emerges as the most sympathetic character of the bunch, made relatable by the emphasis on her desire for a loving marriage and job security.  Meanwhile, Barber manages the small miracle of not being overshadowed by her insanely large fake breasts (they really must be seen to be believed) and turns her limited dialogue into comedic gold.  Both actresses elevate their material to the next level, and the production noticeably suffers when neither is onstage.

As Mandrew and Chuck Wood, Cheyenne Jackson and Henry Winkler aren’t as compelling as their female costars, but both do respectable jobs with subpar material.  Jackson continues to be a reliable supporting player, making his Mandrew suitably dense yet lovable, but the actor still hasn’t found the breakout role he deserves.  (Note:  Those hoping for an eyeful of Jackson’s chiseled physique will be disappointed, because despite his revealing opening outfit the star spends the rest of the night fully clothed.)  Winkler, who isn’t in the show nearly as much as the promotional materials would have you believe, still seems somewhat uncomfortable with his character’s blue humor, but he does have a rather touching moment with Jackson that is surprisingly heartfelt for such an empty-headed production.

Unfortunately, Daniel Breaker and Alicia Silverstone aren’t up to snuff as engaged couple Lee and Sara.  Breaker has the unforgiving job of being the straight man, and seeing him flounder in the role reiterates just how hard that character type is to play.  Breaker also undercuts his effectiveness by mugging to the audience in inappropriate places, leaving his scenes feeling unbalanced and unfocused.  Meanwhile, Silverstone is a disaster for much of the show, displaying none of the charisma she’s usually known for.  She saves face thanks to a well-executed drunk scene towards the play’s climax, although it comes as too little, too late.

The costumes by Jessica Wegener Shay and sets by Anna Louizos are suitably tacky for a play with this subject matter, and the direction by Evan Cabnet is serviceable but uninspiring.  Ultimately, the piece feels like an Off-Broadway or regional production that somehow snuck onto a Broadway stage.  The script is well-intentioned but lacks sparks, and with the possible exception of Graynor and Barber none of the performances feel like they’re Broadway caliber.  Given the wealth of other options on tap for this season, The Performers just isn’t worth your time and money.

Murder Can Be Fun (Provided You Have the Right Cast)

Review:  The Mystery of Edwin Drood

The merry muderers of the Music Hall Royale in their rendition of "The Cell Block Tango"

Let’s get one thing straight:  The Mystery of Edwin Drood – the 1985 musical murder mystery with book, music, and lyrics by Rupert Holmes – is a terrible show.  The music is bland, unmemorable, and breaks so many rules of good theatrical composition that the mind boggles.  The poorly constructed book consists of an endless parade of paper-thin characters prattling on about nothing, with an abundance of puns thrown into the mix to distract the audience from the fact that nothing is actually happening.  The show’s central gimmick, allowing the audience to pick an ending for Charles Dickens’ unfinished final novel of the same name, is a good one, but Drood relies so heavily on that conceit that the initial two hours suffer mightily in comparison.  Rarely have I found so few redeeming qualities in a Broadway musical.

Having said all that, the Roundabout Theatre Company’s current revival is an excellent production that manages to transcend all of the script’s shortcomings to emerge as one of the most entertaining musicals of the fall season.  The hilarious and supremely talented ensemble cast features a host of Broadway veterans all doing excellent work, and the magnificent physical production offers a richly colored tapestry on which the show unfolds.  This is an excellent mounting of a horrible show, and only the most jaded audience members won’t find at least some enjoyment among the production’s many charms.

The show is set in the fictional Music Hall Royale of London during the Victorian era, and the resident acting troupe has taken it upon themselves to present a musicalized adaptation of the unfinished Mystery of Edwin Drood.  The show-within-a-show concerns the drug-addicted John Jasper’s unhealthy attraction to the beautiful Rosa Bud, who has been betrothed to marry Edwin Drood since birth.  Other characters in the tale include twin siblings Helena and Neville Landless, their caretaker the Reverend Crisparkle, opium purveyor Princess Puffer, and the town’s resident drunk Durdles.  What any of these characters have to do with one another remains something of a mystery, even after the show’s conclusion, and matters are further complicated by the fact that the Music Hall Royale’s actors are constantly breaking character to make asides or react to scripted mistakes.  Thankfully, the characters of Drood and the fictional actors who play them are brought to such uniformly charming life by the show’s cast that this narrative murkiness doesn’t really matter.

Donning drag to portray the titular character, Stephanie J. Block has found the perfect vehicle to showcase her many talents.  Block’s natural charisma helps taper the character’s more abrasive qualities, and her broadly comedic portrayal provides plenty of belly laughs.  Her spine-tinglingly good voice makes Holmes’ amateurish songs sounds leagues better than they actually are, and her rendition of the show’s finale is positively thrilling.  She also possesses a winning chemistry with Betsy Wolfe’s delightfully coquettish Rosa Bud, and the pair is nothing short of enchanting whenever they share the stage.

Will Chase is clearly having a blast as the cartoonishly sinister John Jasper, and his delight in the role’s over-the-top nature is infectious.  He’s the type of villain you love to hate, even if his excessive snarling sometimes prevents him from making the best use of his strong singing voice.  Andy Karl’s hot-headed Neville Landless is a hoot, and as his twin sister with the “geographically untraceable accent” Jessie Mueller continues to prove that she’s one of the most versatile actresses of her generation.  Doing a complete one-eighty from her equally winning work as Cinderella in this summer’s Into the Woods, Mueller’s Helena Landless emanates a steely resolve and exotic beauty that extends to the back of the balcony and beyond.  Mugging in all the right places and given too few opportunities to demonstrate her superb alto singing voice, Mueller is one of the show’s strongest assets, and although her part is sizeable she still leaves you wanting more.

This Drood also sees the welcome return of the Chita Rivera to the Broadway stage, and the legendary actress makes the most of her limited stage time.  If her Princess Puffer doesn’t quite live up to the insanely high standard the actress has set for herself, Rivera remains the consummate professional and an utter joy to watch.

And then there’s Jim Norton.  As the Chairman and master of ceremonies of the Music Hall Royale, the veteran actor’s virtuosic performance is the highlight of the evening.  Although he initially appears to be little more than a genial guide meant to hold the audience’s hand throughout the freewheeling show, each scene allows Norton to reveal more and more of his vast reserve of talent.  The actor’s deft comic timing makes even the most groan-inducing puns seem hilarious, and the detached, slightly perturbed way in which he introduces scenes and characters only serves to add to his charm.  Norton can turn a raised eyebrow or muttered aside into comedic gold, and when a scripted mishap forces him to assume a more active role in the show-within-a-show Norton unleashes the most hilarious characterization of the night.

Like the cast, Drood’s physical production is top-notch.  William Ivey Long’s sumptuous Victorian costumes are resplendent in their beauty, utilizing a deep color palette and intricate detail work to jump off the stage.  His attention to detail permeates everything, from the perfectly tailored suit Will Chase wears for the duration of the evening down to a breathtaking gown Stephanie J. Block wears for all of thirty seconds.  Anna Louizos’ set simply and effectively evokes the show-within-a-show’s multiple locations and the English music hall the entire event occurs in (even the lobby has been given a suitable Victorian makeover).  Brian Nason’s lighting design makes both the sets and the costumes pop, and the overall result is a stage that is almost as interesting as the action taking place on it.

The Roundabout’s Broadway productions have been hit or miss for the past few seasons, but the ones that have worked have worked extremely well.  The Mystery of Edwin Drood is an example of a production that works, despite the subpar material’s best attempts to derail the entire endeavor.  The cast is top notch, and the fact that many of them are playing roles outside their typical wheelhouse (and succeeding brilliantly at it) adds an extra layer of enjoyment to their performances.  While it would be a mistake to come to Drood expecting high art or evening coherent storytelling, an abundance of fun and loads of laughs are virtually guaranteed.

What's So Speacial About the Original Cast?

There have been five Broadway productions of Gypsy, and for many the Ethel Merman original remains the best

One interesting phenomenon among musical theatre aficionados – really all theatre fans, but it’s more pronounced in musical theatre circles – is the near-universal belief that a show’s original cast is always the best one.  No matter how many times a show has been successfully revived or remounted, these fans insist the original group of actors represent the best possible incarnation of a property.  If the work is particularly beloved, suggesting different actors for the lead roles becomes tantamount to sacrilege, and eventually you get people who think the then 43-year-old Sarah Brightman is an appropriate choice to play ingénue Christine Daae in the 2004 Phantom of the Opera film.

The above example is extreme, but the thinking behind it is so widespread that people have paid good money to see a 37-year-old Adam Pascal play Roger in Rent or a septuagenarian Carol Channing do Hello, Dolly!  Those real-life examples can be explained away as people who missed legendary performances willingly suspending their disbelief in order to see great actors recreate their most famous roles, but such reasoning doesn’t justify the idea that no matter how many times Gypsy or West Side Story get done, the original cast will always be the best.

So what’s driving this belief?  Is there any substance to the assertion that the original cast is always the superior one?  In large part, I think the primary reason comes down to mere familiarity.  With musicals, many times the only thing resembling a permanent record of the show is the Original Cast Recording.  This is how the vast majority of fans are first exposed to a show, and it is just about the only way anyone can relive the experience of actually seeing a live production.  The particular set of mannerisms, vocal tics, and acting choices captured by the recording becomes subconsciously ingrained in the listener’s head, and through repeated exposure becomes the accepted or “correct” way the material should be done.  If the person has never actually seen the show in question, then the cast album becomes representative of the ideal version of the property that’s been created in the listener’s head.  Any deviation from this imagined ideal can prove off-putting, even with supposedly open-minded people.

But if the reasoning behind this preference for the original cast seems somewhat arbitrary, that doesn’t mean the resulting wisdom is entirely wrong.  The truth of the matter is that the originating actor often ends up being the best, or at least one of the best, people to tackle a particular role.  If the performer is lucky enough to have the part written expressly for them, the way Gypsy was written for Ethel Merman or The Producers was tailored specifically to Nathan Lane, then of course he or she is going to impress in the role.  Even if the writers don’t have a particular person in mind when creating a character, they will inevitably end up fashioning the part around the person chosen to play it.  If a scene or song isn’t working, any rewrites will almost certainly take the performer’s strengths into account.  In a particularly collaborative environment, the actor may have direct input into the character’s moods and actions, subtly but forever skewing the script towards that performer’s interpretation of the role.

Then there are the times when a performer proves so compelling in a role that it takes on a life of its own, becoming greatly expanded in order to fully utilize that actor’s talents.  Anyone who has read the novel Wicked will tell you Glinda is a much more prominent presence in the musical, because the writers wanted to put for focus on Kristin Chenoweth’s bravura performance.  Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens wrote the song “Sarah Brown Eyes” in Ragtime specifically to give Tony-winner Audra McDonald more to do, since she was simply too good to leave out of the second act.  Rory O’Malley’s Elder McKinley didn’t even exist is early drafts of The Book of Mormon, but Matt Stone and Trey Parker were so entertained by his antics in the ensemble they crafted a role to better highlight him.  When a role is so specifically tailored to the original performer, their take on it will naturally be one of the strongest.

Original casts (and premiere casts of revivals) also have the benefit of extended rehearsal time to explore their roles.  A typical Broadway musical has about a month of rehearsals and another month of previews, giving the performers plenty of time to discover the nuances of their characterizations and iron out any kinks.  Add to that the months or even years spent workshopping a modern musical, and you have an artist who is intimately familiar with their particular character.  By the time workshops, out-of-town tryouts, and previews are taken into account, Idina Menzel spent three to four years refining her Elphaba, whereas her many replacements got at best a couple weeks of rehearsal before their first public performance.

The massive investment of time, combined with the knowledge that they are the first person to portray a particular role, results in actors feeling a sense of ownership that is difficult to replicate.  The original cast of a show has a heightened investment in making the show succeed, and going through the journey of discovering their characters with the writers and director gives their performances a more fully-realized and believable quality.  In contrast, many subsequent actors are encouraged to replicate the original’s performance, which can create a feeling of inauthenticity in their work.  Even if the production is new, such as a revival with entirely original staging, the shadow of their predecessor can loom large over any actor.  Every woman who’s played Joanne in Company has had to choose between trying to mimic Elaine Stritch (thereby inviting director comparison) or veering from Stritch’s blueprint and likely being criticized for it.

As we have seen, there are a lot of factors that contribute to making the original cast of a particular show the preferred one.  Because of this, I will always try to see a show while the original company is intact, but I have also seen enough replacements and understudies to know that they can be every bit as strong as the original performers.  I’ve also seen some incredible revivals that surely must compare favorably with the originals, such as the Patti LuPone-led Gypsy or the most recent New York staging of Follies.  Ultimately, the right actor in the right role will make for amazing theatre, whether that actor is the first person to ever play that character of the hundredth.  That is what makes live theatre so exciting, and being able to see multiple interpretations of the same show is what keeps me coming back, time and again. 

The Best Bad Party You'll Ever See

Review:  Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

George has found his bite, and it's truly scary.
Carrie Coon, Tracy Letts, Madison Dirks, and Amy Morton in Steppenwolf's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

 

You just can’t keep a good play down.  Edward Albee’s classic drama Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? last played Broadway a scant seven years ago, but any audience member thinking it’s too soon to revive this American masterpiece will have all doubts wiped away within the first few minutes of the sensational new production currently playing the Booth Theatre.  Imported from Chicago’s famed Steppenwolf Theatre Company with its original cast intact, this devastating new interpretation of the 50-year-old work feels as immediate and fresh as if it were written yesterday.

For those unfamiliar with the play, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? depicts the incredibly dysfunctional relationship of a college history professor named George (Tracy Letts) and his supremely dissatisfied wife, Martha (Amy Morton).  Booze-addled and vicious, the pair has turned their frequent verbal assaults into a highly structured game of wits that’s been perfected through years of practice.  They’ve tricked the unsuspecting Nick and Honey (Madison Dirks and Carrie Coon, respectively) into unwittingly participating in this blood sport by inviting the younger couple over for a nightcap following a faculty party, and after a series of escalating arguments the sun rises on four completely shattered human beings.

Albee is a three-time Pulitzer Prize winner and acknowledged master of the theatre, and Virginia Woolf is the work that first catapulted him to national attention.  The passage of time has done nothing to dull its incendiary bite and pulse-pounding immediacy, and the depth of these supposedly civilized characters’ cruelty remains shocking 50 years later.  The dialogue, especially that of the fiercely intelligent George and Martha, dazzles with its inventiveness and complexity, offering a feast for the ears while providing a wealth of information about the characters speaking it.  How the characters talk is just as revealing as what they say, and repeated visits will unearth new turns of phrase and clever wordplay to appreciate.

Albee has such fun with the language that his play manages to be oppressively dark and blisteringly funny, a duality wisely highlighted by director Pam MacKinnon and her phenomenal cast.  MacKinnon’s razor sharp direction perfectly balances comedy and drama, giving the play a kinetic energy that alternates between uproarious laughter and squirm-inducing discomfort.  The play’s three-plus hours fly by, leaving you thoroughly exhausted and yet hungry for more.

The cast may lack any recognizable Hollywood names, but the level of talent displayed by this incredible ensemble of Steppenwolf actors more than compensates for the lack of star wattage.  This is the finest group of performers to set foot on Broadway in years, working in such perfect tandem that the production never feels anything less than completely authentic.  The attention to detail and emotional honesty is truly stunning, and although I don’t typical prognosticate in reviews, I expect this company to do exceedingly well come Tony season.

The greatest revelation among the cast is Tracy Letts, who won virtually every award imaginable as the author of the Pulitzer Prize-winning August: Osage County.  His acting talents are every bit as astounding as his playwriting abilities, and his George emerges as the standout in a play usually dominated by Martha’s grandstanding theatrics.  Letts initially appears to be the unambitious “nothing” Martha constantly accuses him of being, but as the night progresses he shows a bite and extreme callousness that far surpasses anything his wife is capable of.  His malice is palpable, and when George loses his cool you’ll find yourself shrinking away in abject horror.  But just as George reaches his most monstrous, Letts will do something so utterly charming that you cannot help but be drawn to him, and by play’s end he’s demonstrated that all of his actions are motivated by a twisted but wholly sincere love for his wife.

Of course, George cannot exist without Martha, and Amy Morton does thoroughly impressive work in the role.  From her first entrance she displays a perfectly modulated level of intoxication, using every nuance of her movement and mannerisms to create the most convincing depiction of a high functioning alcohol I’ve ever seen.  Morton fully embraces all of Martha’s less admirable qualities, including her particularly egregious actions in Act II, but tempers her anger enough that you never once doubt her deep, uninhibited love of George.  Morton creates a devastating portrait of a tragically lonely, wounded human being, one who ultimately knows she’s brought this all upon herself and is deeply remorseful about it.  The interplay between Morton and Letts is the centerpiece of the evening, and they portray George and Martha’s relationship in all of its off-putting complexity.

As the most unfortunate houseguests ever, Carrie Coon and Madison Dirks more than hold their own against the powerhouse performances going on around them.  Carrie Coon’s Honey may not have much to say, but she communicates volumes through her body language and physicality.  Honey’s the most obviously intoxicated of the bunch, and Coon creates a convincing alcohol-induced haze around herself while still giving the audience access to the myriad of thoughts swirling around in her head.  Coon also provides the evening’s most hilarious moments of physical comedy, gamely throwing herself at whatever piece of furniture (or person) happens to be closest.

Madison Dirks has the trickiest role in the show, as Nick acts as much as an audience surrogate as he does a participant in the story.  Instantly distrustful of George and Martha’s antics, Nick initially seems like a nice guy caught in a bad situation, but eventually reveals himself to be every bit as depraved and morally reprehensible as his hosts.  Dirks slowly unravels the layers of pretension and arrogance surrounding Nick, leaving us with a wholly honest portrait of a young man already beginning to feel the bitter sting of regret.

The production design perfectly complements and enhances the work of the actors.  Todd Rosenthal’s set looks exactly like you’d expect the house of two alcoholic academics to look, with each nook and cranny filled with enough perfectly ordered chaos that it could hold our attention all by itself.  Allen Lee Hughes’ lighting subtly conveys the passage of time as the evening wears on and dawn approaches, and the costumes by Nan Cibula-Jenkins inform all of the characters without overwhelming any of them.

In short, this top-tier Virginia Woolf is a must see for any serious theatre fan.  The Steppenwolf Theatre Company is home to some of the greatest actors working today, and we are lucky that these four have chosen to grace the New York stage with their abundance of talent.  Tracy Letts and Amy Morton earn their place among the all-time great George and Marthas, while Pam MacKinnon’s expert direction keeps the entire production moving forward with a crackling energy that is thrilling to behold.  Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is the epitome of Broadway theatre, and simply cannot be missed.