The Best Shows of 2013: Part 2

Last week I published the first half of my Best Shows of 2013 list, and now it's time to reveal the top 5 theatrical experiences I've had all year.  Please note this list is limited to productions I have personally seen, so if your favorite isn't on here it may simply be because I didn't get a chance to see it.  It may also be because I am a contrarian who likes to go against the grain, but it's more likely the first thing.

Here's my Top 5 of 2013:

5) The Last 5 Years



Time will only tell if Adam Kantor and Betsy Wolfe will have the kinds of careers their predecessors Sherie Renee Scott and Norbert Leo Butz went on to have, but I've got my eye on Wolfe. 

I've long held Jason Robert Brown's The Last 5 Years in high regard musically, and in my opinion it is his most accomplished score to date (although with The Bridges of Madison County and Honeymoon in Vegas on the horizon, that may soon change).  What I've never been sure of until seeing this spring's stunning Off-Broadway revival was whether this chronicle of a couple's marriage and divorce works dramatically.  I am happy to report that The Last 5 Years isn't just good music, it's plain good theatre, and this production was directed with supreme invention and sensitivity by Brown himself.  Betsy Wolfe gave a star-making performance as Cathy, finding far more comedy in the role than I ever imagined possible while maintaining a staggering sense of vulnerability and a searing emotional honesty.  Co-star Adam Kantor managed the difficult task of making his lout of a character not only understandable but sympathetic, and the pair's chemistry made the entire show click despite their limited shared stagetime.  Most impressive of all, the pair proved themselves to be equal to the near-legendary performances given by Sherie Renee Scott and Norbert Leo Butz in the original production, which thanks to the original cast recording are as vivid and alive in my mind as if I had seen them in person.

4) Twelfth Night

You'd never guess what a ham was lying underneath Mark Rylance's stately black mourning gown.

Twelfth Night has never been my favorite Shakespeare, and the appeal of seeing Mark Rylance back onstage is the only reason the comedy's current Broadway revival was even on my radar.  As the grieving Countess Olivia, Rylance exceeds even the loftiest expectations, hamming things up to great effect while still maintaining his character's believability and emotional truth.  The surprise for me was just how effective the rest of the all-male cast is, and for the first time in my life I actually found Twelfth Night to be consistently, laugh-out-loud funny.  This often hysterical production may pride itself on its adherence to the practices of Shakespeare's day, but it is also the most accessible interpretation of any of the Bard's works to be seen in years.  New York has been host to a surplus of Shakespeare in recent months, but I have trouble imagining a production more delightful and entertaining than this masterpiece of classical acting.  I have no qualms about recommending this production to anyone, Shakespeare fan or not.

3) Pippin

All hail King Pippin?  Please.  All hail Queen Paulus, who has directed the most satisfying musical revival of the year and continues her string of Tony-winning hits on Broadway.

Diane Paulus has done it again.  In fact, I would argue that Pippin is the crowning achievement of her Broadway career, the perfect melding of show and concept to create one of the most electrifying musicals currently on the Great White Way.  I've had a soft spot for Pippin since performing in the show in college, but will readily admit the problematic book and unconventional structure presents certain challenges for anyone looking to produce it.  Paulus and her sensational cast have overcome all of these obstacles with ease, and never has the musical's opening promise of "Magic to Do" been so completely fulfilled.  Paulus' inclusion of circus elements on top of the Fosse-esque dancing takes Pippin to another level, and the Stephen Schwartz score has never sounded better.  Patina Miller manages to make her interpretation of the Leading Player the equal to Ben Vereen's iconic turn, and is ably matched by stellar supporting turns by Terrance Mann, Charlotte d'Ambroise, and Andrea Martin (who has since left the show).  I've already seen the show twice and would happily return for a third visit to this wondrous celebration of the theatre, expertly helmed by one of the best musical directors working on Broadway today.

2) Matilda

If my school's entrance had looked like this, I wouldn't have wanted to go, either.

Alright, it's time to get real:  Matilda probably deserves that Best Musical Tony more than Kinky Boots does.  I won't begrudge Boots any of it's success, and Matilda has been doing just fine without the big prize, but I cannot recall a more inventive, entertaining new musical on Broadway this year than this adaptation of the Roald Dahl novel.  The wit and ingenuity on display at the Shubert Theatre are second to none, challenging the show's young audience rather than talking down to them and leaving as much (if not more) for the adults to enjoy.  Matthew Warchus' electrifying staging gives the show a driving energy that is infectious (his staging for the "School Song" is perhaps the most breathtaking moment I've seen onstage all year), and the quality of performances he has coaxed out of his young cast is extraordinary.  Everything about Matilda works, and Bertie Carvel's scene-stealing turn as Miss Trunchbull was one for the musical comedy history books.  Young or old, there is plenty to enjoy about Matilda, and anyone who loves inventive new musicals would be doing themselves a disservice by not seeing this fantastic show.

1) Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812

Oh how she blushes.  Amber Grey is just one of the many sensational things about Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812 Off-Broadway.

This Off-Broadway show came out of nowhere and completely blew my mind.  A self-described "electropop opera," this musicalization of a sliver of Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace is the single most astounding show of the year.  Musically, the through-composed score is a treasure trove of invention, fusing disparate elements like Russian folk music, electronica, and even art song into a cohesive whole that never ceases to surprise and amaze.  Given a knockout environmental staging by director Rachel Chavkin that makes use of every nook and cranny of the specially designed Kazino nightclub, Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812 is a swirling concoction of a musical unlike anything I've ever seen, performed by an outstanding ensemble of actors who are firing on all cylinders.  As Natasha, Julliard graduate Phillipa Soo is the find of the season, with a soaring voice and staggering emotional honesty that anchors the show and makes its grand themes feel immediate and accessible.  There are too many amazing actors to mention them all, but Amber Grey, Grace McLean, and Brittain Ashford make particularly strong impressions.

Let me say this in no uncertain terms: GO SEE THIS SHOW!!!  Anyone who has ever complained about the lack of innovation in modern musical theatre owes it to themselves and the art form to support this piece.  And let me know when you're going, because I will gladly join you!


And there you have it.  These are my personal picks for the best theatrical experiences of 2013.  If there are any you think I missed, please let me know, as I'm always looking for recommendations as to which show I should see next.  Here's hoping 2014 is an equally good year for inventive new works!

The Best Shows of 2013: Part 1

Greetings, internet!  It's been a while.  I'm sorry I haven't been around (working a full-time job and taking a much needed vacation have kept me occupied for the past month), but I certainly wouldn't forget to post my annual list of the Best Shows of 2013!

For those who haven't seen one of my Best Of lists before, there are two very simple criteria for a show to make the list:  1) It must have opened and been seen by yours truly during the 2013 calendar year (so any show I haven't personally seen is automatically disqualified); and 2)  Said show must have been good.  I am happy to say that I saw much more good theatre than bad, and looking back I'm glad I've been taking baby steps towards seeing more Off-Broadway shows, as some of my most interesting nights at the theatre were spent in the tinier venues away from the hustle and bustle of the Great White Way.  This year, I am only writing a brief paragraph about each show rather than giving every entry it's own post, so without further ado here is the first half of my Best Shows of 2013 list!

10) Kinky Boots

The sex is in the heel:  Billy Porter is Broadway's reigning diva as Lola in Kinky Boots

From the moment it was announced, Kinky Boots always sounded like a fun night in the theatre.  Focusing on a struggling shoe factory that decides the road to financial stability lies in manufacturing women's shoes for men, this Cyndi Lauper-Harvey Fierstein-Jerry Mitchell collaboration is a perfectly lovely concoction.  The show is by no means groundbreaking (many of the same themes were addressed equally well in Fierstein's other drag musical, La Cage aux Folles), but there are some charming tunes, a stunning star turn by this year's Tony winner Billy Porter, and more glitter and sequins than you can shake a six-inch heel at.  I never would have predicted Kinky Boots' incredible box office performance, but there are certainly less deserving shows that have run much longer (*cough*Cats*cough*).

9) Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike

Surely it's obvious who Sigourney Weaver's self-absorbed Masha has dressed as (and David Hyde Pierce makes an adorably droll dwarf).

Christopher Durang finally won his first Tony Award for this farcical riff on unfulfilled desires and our youth obsessed culture.  Durang's comedy aims both high and low, equally at home with insider references to Anton Chekov and politically incorrect Hellen Keller jokes.  While Durang's script is good, the play's powerhouse cast is what pushed Vanya and Sonia into must-see territory.  Kristine Neilson and David Hyde Pierce both gave tour de force performances, each gifted with the kind of stand-out moments actors often dream about (Neilson's bittersweet second act phone call, Pierce's explosive rant against the younger generation).  The supporting cast was just as accomplished, and the show was one of the better examples of ensemble acting on the boards during the spring and summer.  Vanya and Sonia was the definition of laugh-out loud funny, and certainly earned its place among the year's best comedies.

8) Far From Heaven

It's autumn in Connecticut, but Kelli O'Hara's career as one of New York's best singing actresses is far from over.

Following the surprise success of Grey Gardens, composer Scott Frankel and lyricist Michael Korie once again tackled source material that seemed to defy musicalization.  This story of a 1950's suburban Connecticut housewife watching her picture-perfect life crumble around her and the small solace she finds in her relationship with her black gardener lives in the small moments, and musicals typically thrive on the big and flashy.  But Frankel and Korie once again proved what deft observers of the human condition they are, mining the story for all of its thematic richness and making it sing with some of the most beautiful music to grace the New York stage this season.  The pair also received a gift from the musical theatre gods in leading lady Kelli O'Hara, doing some of her most nuanced work to date.  I really hope this show finds its way to Broadway, as there is a distinct lack of serious musical theatre being written these days.  Until then we'll have to "make do" with O'Hara's next project, the Jason Robert Brown-scored Bridges of Madison County.

7) Big Fish

Norbert Leo Butz is certainly the "hero" of the fall musical season, giving an electric performance in the lead role of the unfairly underrated Big Fish

The critics were rather lukewarm to this Susan Stroman-directed tuner, and the box office has unfortunately followed suit, prompting the show to post a December 29th closing date.  It really is a shame, because Big Fish is one of the more interesting and complex projects to make it to Broadway in the past few seasons, and it's inherently theatrical premise (a travelling salesman prone to telling tall tales) has produced some of the fall's most stunning visuals.  Stroman is in top form with her inventive staging, which finds room for dancing elephants, a USO-inspired production number, and one of the few effective uses of slow motion in a live theatrical production.  The preternaturally talented Norbert Leo Butz is makes a strong case for Tony Award #3, with his decades-spanning characterization providing the show it's heart and soul.  He is ably matched by Kate Baldwin as his ever-faithful wife and Bobby Steggert as his estranged son.  If you haven't seen it yet, run out to catch Big Fish before it disappears forever at the end of the month.

6) A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder

Why are all the D'Ysquith's dying?  From laughter, I'd wager.

This stunning debut by unknowns Robert L. Freedman and Steven Lutvak is the fall's best reviewed new musical, and rightly so.  Smartly written and beautifully sung, there is enough wit and invention in Gentleman's Guide's two-and-a-half hours to fill several lesser musicals.  Although the ghoulish-sounding plot involves Monty Navarro systematically bumping off eight members of the wealthy D'Ysquith clan in order to inherit an earldom, this musical farce is one of the funniest, most entertaining shows of the new season.  Jefferson Mays strikes comedic goal as all eight of the doomed D'Ysquiths, and Bryce Pinkham is adorably understated as the well-meaning but murderous Monty.  But the cast's real finds are Lisa O'Hare and Lauren Worsham, the two golden voiced women making their Broadway debuts.  Watching the pair fight for Monty's affections is positively thrilling, and the trio's Act II showstopper "I've Decided to Marry You" is as close to musical comedy heaven as you're likely to find this season.


That's the first half of my list.  Come back soon for my Top 5 of 2013, and also keep an eye out for my companion (and much snarkier) piece, the Worst Shows of 2013.

It's A Complicated Russian Novel, Given a Top-Notch Adaptation

Review:  Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812

 

Phillipa Soo makes a stunning Off-Broadway debut as the title character in Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812.  Please let this be the start of many more star turns to come.

Every so often a show comes along that is so thrillingly original that it’s difficult to describe in words.  Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812 is just such a show, an incredible work of art so unlike what has come before that it must be experienced firsthand to be truly comprehended.  A seamless fusion of disparate and unexpected elements like Russian folk music, electronica, and 19^th century literature that draws equally from the worlds of musical theatre and traditional opera, Natasha is a rollicking good time in the theatre and easily the best new musical of the year. 

The story is adapted from a portion of Leo Tolstoy’s famous Russian epic War and Peace, but don’t for a second let that fact fool you into thinking Natasha is some stuffy, overly romantic period musical.  This self-described “electro-pop opera” makes the source material feel fresh, vibrant, and immediately accessible, distilling the passions and politics of the Russian aristocracy into something relatable to modern audiences without losing an ounce of the setting’s otherworldly appeal.  The plot follows the young and beautiful Natasha, who is madly in love with her fiancé Prince Andrey and goes to live with her godmother in Moscow while anxiously awaiting his return from fighting in the Napoleonic Wars.  During Andrey’s absence she meets and is eventually seduced by the indescribably handsome but morally questionable Anatole, whose brother-in-law Pierre serves as the evening’s narrator.

Through-composed with music and lyrics by Dave Malloy (who also provided the libretto), Natasha features an incredibly complex score that strikes the perfect balance between being immediately tuneful and offering nuanced layers that require repeated listening to fully appreciate.  Staying away from the more traditionally structured songs typically associated with musicals, Natasha’s score is heavily influenced by the operatic model of melodically inventive recitative interspersed with more rigidly formatted arias.  Malloy creates sonically distinct and vibrant worlds for each of the show’s varied settings, from the rapturously beautiful cacophony of the opera to the thumping bass of Moscow’s clubs.  The blending of such anachronistic and diametrically opposed genres only adds to the show’s unique identity, and never once does a musical choice feel inappropriate or ill advised.  Melodic motifs are subtly reused and reconfigured throughout, making the show sound familiar and yet fresh for the entirety of its runtime.

Malloy has written some truly stunning solos, like Natasha’s soaring “No One Else” or her cousin Sonya’s plaintive “Sonya Alone.”  Yet his true genius reveals itself in the more complex duets and ensemble numbers, which are filled to the bursting point with tight harmonies and elaborate choral writing.  The multi-talented Malloy has also orchestrated his own work to perfection, adding another dimension to the music as the instruments and vocals intertwine in deliciously unexpected ways.  But as beautiful and accomplished as Malloy’s score is, it is always in service of the characters and the story, and it keeps the show moving at a near-breathless pace.

Once the show starts, it doesn’t stop, and even the more introspective moments carry with them a thrilling forward momentum.  Malloy’s score lays the basis for this, but it is amplified and enhanced by Rachel Chavkin’s stunning direction.  Chavkin has gifted the show with an immersive staging that truly makes the audience feel like they are a part of the action, which occurs all around them in a specially designed venue called Kazino created explicitly to house the show.  The actors enter and exit from all sides, often speaking directly to the audience and occasionally roping a spectator or two into the action.  Chavkin’s artful deployment of her actors utilizes the space to its fullest while at the same time maintaining a laser-like focus; you always know exactly where you should look, but there is plenty to hold your attention should you choose to glance elsewhere.

Further enhancing the show’s crystal clear storytelling is the unbelievable lighting design by Bradley King.  King achieves a dizzying number of looks and washes over the course of the evening, highlighting and enhancing the action at every turn.  With just a couple of lights and some colored gels King transports us to a snow-covered Moscow street at night or an elaborate costumed ball in a palatial manor.  King’s work is essential in creating some of the evening’s most striking images, including a final tableau that beautifully abstracts the titular Comet of 1812.  It is a virtuosic piece of design work that stands among the very best lighting designs I’ve ever encountered.

And after all of this praise, I haven’t even touched upon the extraordinarily gifted cast who brings this tale to life.  The story is anchored, from beginning to end, by Julliard graduate Phillipa Soo’s stunning portrayal of Natasha.  Soo embodies Natasha’s youth and charisma while utilizing a staggering emotional honesty and accessibility that makes you feel every step of her journey from childhood innocence into full-grown womanhood.  Soo sings likes a dream and has a remarkable amount of control over her voice, but it is her acting that truly captures the audience and makes Natasha’s story involving, relatable, and ultimately heartbreaking.  Soo is a star in the making, and one can only hope that Natasha is the beginning of a long and illustrious career for the young beauty.

David Abeles is by necessity more restrained as Pierre, a cuckolded husband and academic who spends a majority of the first act on the story’s periphery.  He possesses an everyman quality that makes him feel approachable, and his expressive face and voice allows him to communicate the multitude of emotions roiling beneath Pierre’s stoic surface.  As his adulterous wife Helene, Amber Gray is an unbridled firebrand whose killer, blues-influenced voice is put to particularly good use during the song “Charming.”  And Grace McLean is outstanding as Marya D, Natasha godmother and the grande dame of the Moscow aristocracy.  A welcome bit of comic relief for most of the show, McLean comes into her own during the impassioned one-two punch of “In My House” and “A Call to Pierre” late in the second act.

The only cast member who isn’t quite all you’d hope is Lucas Steele as Anatole.  Undeniably handsome and possessing an impressive tenor, Steele can be hard to understand when singing in his middle register and lacks the emotional believability of his costars.  He has the character’s preening physicality down pat, but doesn’t quite have the chemistry to truly sell Anatole’s wholesale seduction of the innocent Natasha.

That is literally the only negative thing I have to say about the production (and Steele is by no means awful); everything else is top notch.  Dave Malloy has written a truly revolutionary score that deserves to be heard often and repeatedly, and may well prove to be an inspiration to an entire generation of future musical theatre composers.  Rachel Chavkin has directed the piece with precision and sensitivity, in an immersive environmental staging that is a shining example of how such productions should be done.  The refreshingly multi-ethnic cast is a top-notch group of singing actors, and Phillipa Soo in particular establishes herself as an actress to watch.  Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812 is playing a limited engagement through January 5th, so get your tickets now or miss out on the most exciting new musical of the year.

UPDATE:  The show has recently been extended to February 2nd, so you still have time to catch this gem!  I'm already planning my (3rd) trip to this astonishing production.

A Gentleman's Guide to a Jolly Good Time

Review:  A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder

Murder, you say? - Jefferson Mays is absolutely killing it as the eight doomed D'Ysquiths in A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder.

A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, the delightful new musical comedy that just opened at the Walter Kerr Theatre, is the complete antithesis of everything that has come to define the contemporary Broadway musical, and is all the better for it. Smart, funny, and deliciously tongue-in-cheek, this gem of a show offers a refreshing change of pace from the bombast currently in vogue on the Great White Way, a thinking man's comedy by a couple of Broadway newcomers that is the most entertaining book musical of the fall season.  Even those who generally think themselves too highbrow for shows where the characters break into song are likely to find themselves won over by this Gentleman's many charms.

Set in Edwardian England, A Gentleman's Guide is built from a simple premise that yields increasingly surprising dividends.  Upon his mother's death, young Monty Navarro learns that he is ninth in line to the D'Ysquith (pronounced "DIE-sqwith") family fortune, and takes it upon himself to bump off the eight self-involved nobles standing between him and his inheritance.  He hopes his increased social stature will help win over his longtime love Sibella Hallward, but along the way falls for his beautiful and pure-hearted cousin Phoebe.  And in an ingenious twist, all eight of the D'Ysquith nobles (including two lovely ladies) are portrayed by Tony-winner Jefferson Mays in a bravura performance that is sure to put the versatile actor in contention for a second statuette.  What follows is an evening of unadulterated musical comedy bliss, expertly performed by a sensational cast with some of the most beautiful voices currently on Broadway.

The score by Steven Lutvak and Robert L. Freedman is initially unassuming - the opening number is probably the worst song in the bunch, which is a shame - but quickly grows into a glorious classically-tinged score that has moments of rapturous beauty.  Lutvak and Freedman display a particular gift for counterpoint in the production's many duets, and their ability to write extended musical scenes culminates in the breathtakingly accomplished Act II trio "I've Decided to Marry You," sung by Monty and his two love interests.  The show also contains several dynamite patter songs which show off the duo's sharp and intricate lyrics, which for once are actually audible instead of being drowned out by an over-amplified sound system like in so many other shows.  The score has been masterfully orchestrated by the legendary Jonathan Tunick, who works under the charmingly novel idea that perhaps the orchestra should support the voice rather than compete with it.

Freedman's book keeps the show moving along at a steady clip, quickly establishing the various members of the D'Ysquith clan and just as quickly dispatching with them.  Despite the amount of plot he must cover, Freedman still manages to draw full and complex portraits of the three romantic leads, and the supporting characters have just enough flair to keep them easily distinguishable from one another.  The ending is probably too convoluted for its own good, but just as in the musical comedies of yore the destination isn't really the focus here.  A Gentleman's Guide is all about the journey, and it is a thoroughly entertaining one.

The cast is uniformly fantastic, starting with Jefferson Mays as the eight doomed members of the D'Ysquith family.  The mercurial Mays switches among his various personas with ease, granting each one a different set of quirks and mannerisms that make them instantly recognizable (Mays is greatly aided by Linda Cho's distinctive and gorgeous costumes).  More importantly, Mays makes all of them laugh-out-loud funny, striking a perfect balance between high and low comedy that is essential in establishing the evening's tone.  Mays is particularly memorable as the foppish Henry, who sings a hilarious duet with Monty entitled "Better with a Man," and the Tony-winner also scores as the delightfully self-involved Lady Hyacinth, who spends an entire musical number debating which starving, third world children are most worthy of her charity.

As the affably murderous Monty Navarro, Bryce Pinkham is perhaps the production's greatest discovery.  His Monty is sweet, unassuming, and undeniably British, feeling authentic and believable throughout the proceedings.  Pinkham anchors the entire show with a charming everyman quality that causes you to root for him even though he is essentially an unrepentant serial killer, and the young actor has the ability to suggest a whole host of emotions roiling just below the surface while maintaining his proper British poise (a dichotomy that is wonderfully exploited during the song "Stop! Wait! What!?!").  Pinkham also sings beautifully, with an effortless tenor that is one of the purest male voices to grace Broadway in a good long while. 

He is matched, note for note and scene for scene, by his two spectacular leading ladies.  Lisa O'Hare is ravishing as Monty's first love Sibella, making the character's nonstop rambling and concern with outward appearances endearing rather than off-putting.  O'Hare also flawlessly navigates Sibella's increasing jadedness without ever losing sight of the traits that made Monty (and the audience) fall in love with her in the first place.  Lauren Worsham is just as delightful as the eternally optimistic Phoebe D'Ysquith, radiating a winsome star quality that makes her an equally appealing match for the lovelorn Monty.  Both women are making positively smashing Broadway debuts, and when they sing together or with Pinkman (as in the aforementioned "I've Decided to Marry You") the actresses sound heavenly.

Director Darko Tresnjak deserves full credit for casting such fantastic actors and coaxing such winning performances out of them, although his staging for the show falls a bit short of the high benchmark set by the performers.  Tresnjak nails the tone and keeps the show moving, but his stage pictures are rarely very interesting to look at.  He is partially hampered by Alexander Dodge's set, which in attempting to replicate the feel of an English music hall has effectively halved the amount of available playing space for most scenes.  There's definitely more to the scenic design than initially apparent, although the scattered surprises don't really justify the concessions made in the area of actor mobility.

In the end, A Gentleman's Guide's strengths far outweigh its weaknesses, and the show proves itself one of the most unexpected delights of the fall season.  A refreshing change of pace from the loud, pop-influenced excess of most modern-day musicals, the show marks the auspicious Broadway debuts of both the writing team and a good portion of the highly talented cast.  It is a rare show that manages to be this entertaining while remaining intellectually stimulating, and it would be absolutely scandalous for any true theatre lover to miss it.  A killer good time is practically guaranteed (sorry, I had to).

A Musical Comedy Stuck in 2nd Gear

Review:  Little Miss Sunshine

Stephanie J. Block, Rory O'Malley, and Will Swenson prove why they're all Tony-nominated actors as they struggle mightily to overcome Little Miss Sunshine's shortcomings.

Perhaps it's fitting that Little Miss Sunshine, the latest collaboration between director/librettist James Lapine and composer William Finn, fails to live up to expectations.  The new tuner, just like the 2006 independent film on which it is based, examines how a dysfunctional family deals with the dashed expectations of their rather run-of-the-mill lives.  And just like in real life, it is borderline painful to watch hard-working and talented people (in this case, the mostly excellent cast) struggle to overcome the bad hand they've been dealt, which here takes the form of a poorly constructed and tonally confused one-act musical.  Not since 2010's deeply flawed Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown has a show sounded so good on paper and so thoroughly failed to deliver on stage.

Like it's filmic counterpart, Little Miss Sunshine tells the story of the unassuming Hoover clan and their cross-country road trip to get 9-year-old Olive (Hannah Nordberg) to the titular beauty pageant.  Family matriarch Sheryl (Stephanie J. Block) works long hours to support her family since her husband Richard (Will Swenson) was laid off of his job.  Richard is hoping to sell the publishing rights to his self-help blog, much to the derision of his foul-mouthed, lascivious father, known only as Grandpa (David Rasche).  Meanwhile Sheryl and Richard's son Dwayne (Logan Rowland) has taken a vow of silence until he achieves his goal of joining the Air Force, and Sheryl's suicidal gay brother Frank (Rory O'Malley) is staying with the family while he recovers from his latest "episode."  When the family finds out that little Olive has been chosen as a last minute contestant, they all pile into the family's VW bus in hopes of making it to the pageant on time.

The source material presents several challenges, none of which are successfully addressed by the creative team.  With the exception of Olive, the family members all seem to barely tolerate one another, giving off the impression they'd rather be anywhere but stuck in a van together.  Yes, the narrative is designed to show these people come to realize how much they love each other, but without even a glimmer of kindness or affection to begin with the first half of the show is a rather miserable experience.  There are hints of interesting and dynamic pairings during the opening scenes, and the show would be better served by expounding on these so there was at least some joy in the opening segments.  For instance, Grandpa may have total disdain for the rest of the Hoover clan, but playing up his affection for Olive would have gone a long way towards making him more bearable (he's easily the show's most insufferable character).  There is an odd bond caused by the shared existentialism of Frank and Dwayne that would be great to see explored further and sooner.  If each character seemed to like at least one other person at the musical's outset, then there would be something to help offset the snarkiness and general misery of what is advertised as a musical "comedy."

Even more devastating is the writing team's inability to settle on a workable tone.  There is a lot of drama and angst on display, but it isn't presented or examined in enough detail for the show to effectively work as serious character piece.  Yet there is enough heavy subject matter - including undertones of marital strife, the burdens of unemployment, and the disappointment of unrealized ambition - that the attempts at comedy never really take off.  The razor sharp wit and gonzo sense of humor so apparent in Lapine's libretto for the duo's last collaboration, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, is inexplicably absent for much of the show.  The scenes set during the "Little Miss Sunshine" pageant have this self-aware cheekiness in spades, and are so effective that it makes you retroactively wish the entire production was an equally over-the-top farce. 

Finn's score is easily the least memorable aspect of the show, which is especially disappointing given the composer's sterling work elsewhere.  There are some fine bits of ensemble music scattered throughout, but these sections are few and far between and unfortunately bookended by fairly clunky solo numbers.  Even worse, almost none of the songs have a clear purpose, lessening their dramatic impact.  There is an extended sequence where Frank encounters the man who prompted his suicide attempt, and though Frank claims to have moved on he continually sings about the other man's physical beauty.  Rather than coming across as a believably mixed set of emotions, the song makes Frank seem bipolar and lacks any kind of internal logic.  There is a flashback to before Sheryl and Richard got married that appears designed to show the love they once felt for each other, but consists of the characters being incredibly ambivalent toward one another until suddenly they aren't.  What are intended to be revealing character moments come across as muddy and confused instead, and leave the audience even more confused about who these people truly are.

The cast struggles mightily to rise above the writing's shortcomings, and do a good enough job that you can't help but wish they had better material to work with.  Stephanie J. Block shows a subtleness and range she hasn't often been asked to use, while still finding moments to show off her comedic chops (if only the score allowed her a better showcase for that phenomenal voice).  Rory O'Malley does some of his most affecting work yet as the deeply troubled Frank, and sounds fantastic on his two main duets.  Richard's straight-laced nature robs Will Swenson of the chance to use the utter fearlessness that made him so beguiling in Hair, but it's nice to see such a talented actor push himself in new directions.  Young Hannah Nordberg is cute as a button as Olive, and Logan Rowland conveys plenty of character despite remaining mute for over half of the show.  There are also two scene-stealing turns by Jennifer Sanchez as Linda the "Bereavement Consoler" and as the reigning Miss California, which point to the show that could have been had the authors chosen to fully embrace the quirkiness that turned Spelling Bee into a surprise hit.  The only actor who fails to make much of an impression is David Rasche as Grandpa, who is saddled with the worse material of the bunch and does little to disguise its shortcomings.

Lapine the director comes across better than Lapine the librettist, managing to keep the staging fresh and interesting despite the fact that over half the action takes place in the confines of an old VW bus.  He somehow manages to make actors running in place and miming the pushing of a van exciting, and knows just how to use Beowulf Boritt's deceptively simple set to maximum effect.  There are also fun touches by costumer Jennifer Capiro (who thankfully gets to costume both a swimsuit and eveningwear competition for the 9-year-old pageant girls) and lighting designer Ken Billington.

But ultimately, all of the talent in the world cannot save bad writing, and unfortunately Little Miss Sunshine features some very bad writing by people who should really know better.  Lapine and Finn have been responsible for some of the most innovative small-scale musicals of the past 20 years, not to mention Lapine's incredible collaborations with musical theatre genius Stephen Sondheim.  How Lapine and Finn managed to drop the ball so completely remains a mystery, and unfortunately their talented cast and crew are left to pick up the pieces.  Even diehard musical theatre fans can find a better use of their time this fall, given the wealth of innovative and inventive new musicals both on Broadway and Off.

A "Night" Full of Laughs, Just as the Bard Intended

Review:  Twelfth Night

Don't let the puzzled expression fool you; Mark Rylance knows exactly what he's doing as Olivia in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night

I have a confession: I can't stand Twelfth Night, that perennially popular Shakespearean comedy of mistaken identity.  It always strikes me as dreadfully dull and decidedly unfunny in performance, with the only consistently entertaining parts being the B-plot focused on the servants’ attempts to humble the unbearably pompous Malvolio.  I also have a generalized disdain for companies who mount Shakespeare using the original Elizabethan practices, as the all-male casting is usually there to mask the fact the director has nothing new to say about the play.  So when I heard Twelfth Night was being revived on Broadway with an all-male cast, the only thing that seemed remotely interesting to me was the opportunity to see the incredibly gifted Mark Rylance perform onstage once again.

I need not have been so cynical; this latest production of the Bard’s comedy is the finest one I’ve ever seen, and one of the most accessible and interesting Shakespearean productions to grace the New York stage in a long time.  For the uninitiated, the show’s main plot concerns twin brother and sister Viola and Sebastian, who become separated during a great storm at sea.  Each has assumed the other drowned, and for reasons that never fully make sense to me Viola decides that her best course of action is to dress as a boy named Cesario and go work for Duke Orsino.  The Duke is madly in love with the countess Olivia, who is in mourning for her dead brother and will not entertain any of Orsino’s advances.  He sends Cesario/Viola to woo Olivia for him, but the countess find herself far more interested in the well-spoken servant "boy" than the lovelorn Duke.  

This contrivance has always been difficult to swallow, not only because the actress playing Viola almost never makes a convincing man but also because when her twin brother Sebastian reenters the picture the two are constantly confused for one another despite incredibly obvious physical differences.  The beauty of this all-male production is that Viola finally makes a convincing man, and the pale makeup and identical costumes she and Sebastian wear make them virtually indistinguishable physically.  The other characters' confusion is finally credible, yet there are enough context clues and subtle differences in physicality for the audience to be able to figure out who’s who.  Samuel Barnett and Joseph Timm - as Viola and Sebastian, respectively - are both fine actors in rather thankless roles, and Barnett in particular does an admirable job of playing the straight man during the play's increasingly ridiculous situations.

But while Samuel Barnett may technically be playing the lead, this production is all about Mark Rylance’s virtuosic performance as Olivia, a hilariously over-the-top rendition that finds laughs in every line of dialogue and bit of stage business.  Most performers tend to emphasize Olivia’s regal air, given her position as a countess; Rylance completely forgoes that route and has created a supremely vain, vaguely stupid woman-child prone to tantrums and side-splittingly inept flirting.  Two-time Tony-winner Rylance has always been an extremely physical actor, and over the course of the evening he throws himself on the floor, scrambles over furniture, hurls props at his fellow actors, and even wields a battle axe for some of the play’s biggest belly laughs.  Although vastly different from the typical interpretation, Rylance’s performance is entirely supported by the text and his unequaled commitment to the role makes it wholly believable.  It's a shame the part doesn’t allow Rylance doesn’t more stage time, but he milks what he has for everything it's worth.

As Olivia’s handmaiden Maria, Paul Chahidi doesn’t even attempt to hide the fact he is a man in a dress, but he also doesn’t comment on the fact.  He merely reacts naturally to the play’s circumstances, and the honesty of his performance allows you to instantly accept him as Maria and enjoy his gleeful mugging.  Colin Hurley is a riot as the constantly drunk Sir Toby Belch, and with Angus Wright’s Sir Andrew Aguecheek as his partner in crime is responsible for some of the biggest laughs not involving Rylance.  And although the character doesn’t really get a chance to shine until the second act, Stephen Fry makes for a masterful Malvolio, the unsuspecting butt of a particularly cruel but also hilarious joke concocted by Maria and Toby.

The intentionally spartan set design by Jenny Tiramani is a refreshing change of pace from the overly elaborate sets that have become the norm these days, and the decision to use onstage seating as an approximation of the thrust staging seen at Shakespeare’s Globe is a nice touch (and watching said audience members double over in laughter provides added entertainment value).  Tiramani is also responsible for the gorgeous period costumes, whose elaborate detail is visible even from the back of the theatre.  Director Tim Carroll makes excellent use of all of this in his staging, which maintains a brisk pace and keeps the focus squarely on the text and the performers.

Twelfth Night is running in repertory with Richard III, and the idea of this same group of actors tackling an entirely different type of play is intriguing, given that they have so thoroughly nailed the spirit of this whimsical comedy.  As Olivia, Rylance proves once again that he is one of the most gifted, versatile, and hardworking actors of his generation, and he is surrounded by equally capable and appealing performers both young and old.  Whether you love Twelfth Night or can't quite comprehend its enduring popularity, this production will leave you smiling.

My Top 10 Theatre Experiences: Part 2

A few weeks ago, I started to publish a list of my Top 10 theatrical experiences of all time.  This list includes the shows that have had a profound impact on my theatre-going life, and the ones that have remained the most vivid in my memory since initially seeing them.  You can read the first article for a more thorough breakdown of the criteria I've used, but basically for a show to make the list it had to play Broadway and be solid from top to bottom (excellent star turns in mediocre shows have been left off).  And the list is alphabetical, because coming up with a numbered ranking for these 10 shows would just be too hard.

So picking up where I left off:

The Book of Mormon

Andrew Rannells and the original Broadway cast of The Book of Mormon

The Book of Mormon holds a distinction that I do not give out lightly; despite my hesitancy to rank the shows on this list, almost 3 years after my first viewing I can safely say that The Book of Mormon is the best night I've ever spent in the theatre.  The energy inside the theatre was palpable during the early March preview I attended back in 2011; though highly anticipated, the show was shrouded in secrecy.  The producers had only released four production stills, there was no video or audio available, and the program purposefully lacked a song list or even a basic scene breakdown.  None of us quite knew what we were getting into, and the experience was all the better for it.

As a huge fan of South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut (easily among my favorite films of all time), I had enormous expectations for this show, and it handily exceeded every one of them.  By the end of the opening number I was grinning from ear to ear, and soon after that I was howling with laughter.  The show was every bit as gleefully offensive as you could imagine, and crossed a couple of boundaries even I wasn't sure they were allowed to.  And yet the show was so hilarious, and more importantly so heartfelt, that it didn't matter.  The show had a soul, and a soul that not only respected but embraced the traditions of the glitzy book musicals of days past.  There are rousing production numbers, comic duets, and second act power ballads that manage to both gently mock the absurdity of such things while at the same time being excellent examples of those troupes.

Simply put, The Book of Mormon is one of the best constructed musicals of the new millennium, as well as one of the funniest.  But what made this experience truly transcendent for me was the absolutely extraordinary original cast.  Everyone, from the principals to the ensemble members, was an extremely talented triple threat with spot-on comic timing and amazing chemistry.  While Josh Gad was rightly praised for his scenery chewing turn as the hopelessly awkward Elder Cunningham, I think Andrew Rannells' supremely smug Elder Price was the show's true revelation.  Rannells managed to play straight man to Gad's comic genius while remaining hilarious in his own right, and turned what could have been a thoroughly off-putting character into a beacon of charisma and old-school showmanship.  (Also, Rannells' pop-tenor is nearly flawless.)  Tony-winner Nikki M. James provided the show's heart and soul as Ugandan tribeswoman Nabalungi, and Rory O'Malley led one of this decade's great production numbers with his showstopping "Turn It Off" (which incidentally includes my favorite sight gag in the entire show, and one that made me audibly gasp in delight when I first saw it).

The Book of Mormon is rightfully one of the hottest tickets in town, commanding upwards of $450 per ticket for the premium seats.  It is the only show running I would even consider paying that much money for, and I will continue to recommend it to any and everyone who will listen.

Follies (2011 Revival)

The "Loveland" sequence from the 2011 revival of Follies

Stephen Sondheim's utter mastery of the musical theatre form is sometimes taken for granted, and I often call him the Shakespeare of the musical stage.  Like the Bard, Sondheim's works have the remarkable ability to reveal new facets of meaning with each subsequent viewing, and have proven able to withstand a wide array of reimaginings and concept-based stagings.  But sometimes, as the breathtaking 2011 revival of Follies proved, all you need is to do the show the way it was written.  Grandly opulent and utterly heartbreaking, this revival took a show I had always found intriguing and skyrocketed it up my personal list to the point where I consider it one of the finest musicals ever created.

The show, centered around the reunion of the last remaining performers of a Ziegfeld Follies-esque spectacle, is simultaneously about nothing and everything.  There is very little plot, and yet over the course of the evening the show manages to make deeply poignant observations about growing older and regret while still celebrating the vast amount of beauty to be found in life.  Sondheim's score is a parade of pastiches that include some of the greatest ballads ever written, including cabaret standards like "I'm Still Here" and "Losing My Mind."  The most expensive musical ever produced at the time of its original premiere, Follies requires an elaborate physical production and enormous cast, and this revival hit both of those elements out of the park.

Bernadette Peters' performance as Sally Durante-Plummer is probably one of the more divisive in recent Broadway history; I personally loved her, and found her character's slow unraveling to be a fascinating portrait of the cost of unmet ambitions.  But nobody could argue with the stunning brilliance of her onstage husband Danny Burstein, who was a revelation as Buddy Plummer and robbed (ROBBED!) of a justly deserved Tony Award.  And Jan Maxwell's pitch-perfect embodiment of the jaded, bitter Phyllis Rogers-Stone was such a masterclass in musical theatre acting that I can still vividly recall her two big numbers ("Could I Leave You?" and "The Story of Lucy and Jessie").  The only reason I am okay with her not winning a long-overdue Tony is because that year's victor was Audra McDonald for Porgy and Bess, which was one step beyond perfection.

Finally, Follies has what may be one of the most thrilling theatrical climaxes of any musical I've ever seen.  Watching the main quartet of characters finally reach their breaking point, triggering the 20-minute long "Loveland" sequence in which each character is deconstructed in an elaborately-staged Follies-style production umber, had me on the edge of my seat in the way few shows ever had.  I can still see that initial reveal, with the downstage drop curtain falling to floor to reveal the dazzling Loveland set, as if it had happened this morning.


That's enough for today.  Hopefully I will be a little more regular on the blog postings, but even if it takes a while I promise the rest of this list is coming!

A Tall Tale Expertly Told

Review:  Big Fish

 

Kate Baldwin, Norbert Leo Butz, and believe it or not one of the simpler sets for Broadway's Big Fish

Based on the 2003 Tim Burton film and the novel of the same name, Big Fish has a big budget ($14 million, to be exact) and it shows.  There is no shortage of props, costumes, and various other theatrical accoutrements filling the Neil Simon’s stage, to the point where the elaborate physical production seems poised to overshadow the actual story being told.  Thankfully, the boundless talent and creativity of both the performers and director/choreographer Susan Stroman outshines any stage business, making Big Fish a thoroughly enjoyable musical comedy for the modern era.

The multifaceted story of Big Fish centers on Edward Bloom, a traveling salesman prone to telling fantastical stories about his life to anyone who will listen.  After a lifetime of stories about giants, mermaids, and witches instead of actual human interaction, Edward’s grown son Will harbors a deep-seated resentment towards his absentee father.  But when Will’s mother Sandra calls to reveal Edward has contracted a potentially terminal cancer, the junior Bloom decides now is the time to find out the truth behind his father’s tall tales.  As the narrative jumps between Edward’s fanciful past and less uplifting present, Big Fish ultimately reveals itself as a show very much concerned with fathers, sons, and the legacy we all leave behind when we die.

The whimsical nature of Edward’s stories and the uncomfortably real estrangement between father and son makes for a tricky combination of tones, and kudos must be given to bookwriter John August for blending these disparate elements so seamlessly.  The more outrageous production numbers transition smoothly into intimate character scenes, and the show’s book manages to be both laugh-out-loud funny and surprisingly moving.  August has provided his cast, particularly the charming rascal Edward, with some genuinely hilarious one-liners, while at the same time fleshing out his characters with more depth than typically seen in a musical comedy.  The one real flaw in the script is that it could stand a more cohesive ending; the three false endings presented muddle what could be a powerful conclusion by failing to agree on what the final sentiment of the show should be.

The score by Andrew Lippa is more problematic.  His melodies are certainly pleasing to the ear, and the entire show has been lushly orchestrated by Tony-winner Larry Hochman.  It’s not that Lippa has written bad music, but he does seem to have written the wrong music, and his unnecessarily rangy pop-influenced bombast drowns out the delicate and emotionally complex ideas in his lyrics.  The show’s best musical moments are the quieter ballads, but Lippa seems distrustful of the notion that the simplest solution can often be the best.  So he throws in another modulation and some vocal grandstanding for good measure, making the show sound like every other Broadway score of the past 5 years.  All of that said, Lippa and August have done an excellent job of integrating the songs into the show’s book, and with the exception of Will’s first act solo “Stranger” every musical number feels purposeful and necessary.

5-time Tony winner Susan Stroman directs this material with her trademark wit and invention, creating an unending parade of delightful surprises throughout her fluid staging.  Stroman’s choreography finds the delicate balance between being earnest and self-aware, winking at the audience without mocking the story or the characters.  The only minor quibble with Stroman’s work here is that the material doesn’t afford her a showstopping production number like “Springtime for Hitler” in The Producers or “I’ve Got Rhythm” in Crazy for You.  That said, she does stellar work in the Stomp-influenced opening number “Be the Hero” and the wonderfully cheeky USO-inspired “Red, White and True” at the top of the second act.  Her playfulness never distracts from the show’s pace or emotional core, and there is a much-appreciated old school polish to her staging.

Stroman has also assembled a dynamite cast, headed by two-time Tony-winner Norbert Leo Butz in yet another spectacular display of his seemingly unending list of talents.  Butz combines the charisma of a leading man with the finely-honed comedic timing of a character actor to create a magnetic Edward Bloom that anchors the entire evening.  Butz gets to play Bloom at every stage of his life, seamlessly transitioning back and forth between Edward’s various ages with only minimal help from costumes and makeup.  Rarely leaving the stage, Butz conjures up unexpected depth and unparalleled showmanship as required, reaffirming his status as one of the most talented actors of his generation and making it impossible to take your eyes off him.

Tony-nominee Bobby Steggert has a tougher time finding his footing in the role of Edward’s son Will, although it is not for lack of trying.  Butz is such a dominate personality that Steggert’s character arc often seems secondary, although the latter actor manages the tricky feat of constantly antagonizing the show’s most charming character without becoming unsympathetic himself.  The subtlety of Steggert’s performance helps guide the audience to an understanding of Edward without beating them over the head with it, and the young performer is in fine voice throughout.

Rounding out the main cast is Kate Baldwin as Sandra Bloom, wife to Edward and mother to Will.  Baldwin is fantastic as the love of Edward’s life, creating a fully realized person in a role which leaves many things unsaid.  With a single glance and a carefully timed sigh Baldwin shows us glimpses of the immense turmoil within this woman forced to watch the two most important men in her life fight with one another, and she fills the flashback scenes with such unbridled joy you instantly understand why Edward is so smitten with her (their initial meeting, the haunting “Time Stops,” is perhaps the single most effective moment of the show).  Baldwin’s crystalline voice also does the best job navigating the highs and lows of Lippa’s score, and her Act II ballad “I Don’t Need a Roof” is heartbreaking.

As for the show’s physical production, making a value judgment about it is unusually tough.  On the one hand, everything about the show is expertly crafted and visually stunning.  The rubic’s cube of a set by Julian Crouch makes the many scene changes virtually seamless, and the projection design by Benjamin Pearcy elevates that particular art to an entirely new level.  Susan Stroman’s continually surprising staging would not be possible without the endlessly inventive costumes by William Ivey Long, several of which provoked audible audience reactions the night I attended.  And yet there is so much of everything, from the various set pieces to the gargantuan number of costumes and props, that it verges on distracting.

There is a lot to like about Big Fish, starting with the dynamic central performance of Norbert Leo Butz.  He is backed by a supremely talented and funny cast that is able to effortlessly shift between the comedic and dramatic tones demanded by the story, which has been expertly mapped out by bookwriter John August and composer Andrew Lippa.  Susan Stroman’s staging is creative without becoming gimmicky, and her originality ensures that there is always something fresh and exciting around the corner.  Like the best tall tales, this show transports the audience to a world at once familiar and exciting, and that sense of wonder will linger with you long after the story is done.

My Top 10 Theatre Experiences: Part 1

Ever since Playbill.com started publishing "Their Favorite Things," in which notable Broadway talent lists the 10 Broadway performances that most affected them as audience members, I have toyed with the notion of doing a similar feature on this blog.  But every time I've gone to write it, I've shied away, since making lists of my "favorite" or "the best" theatre is not something I do lightly.  It takes time to fully process the best theatre, and to ensure that your enjoyment was of the piece as a whole and not just a particularly flashy performance or technical element.  There are many productions I enjoyed immensely at the time that I have trouble remembering now, and while those types of shows are certainly valuable experiences they are not ones I feel belong on a "best of" list.

But after a lot of careful consideration, I have (I think) come up with a list that represents the 10 shows that have had the greatest effect on me as person.  These are the shows that made me feel, that made me laugh out loud, fight back tears, and stare in wonder at the sheer amount of talent on display.  I want to be clear:  this is NOT a list of what I consider the 10 Best Shows of All Time.  There are several shows that I adore as pieces of writing that I've never seen a wholly satisfactory production of, and though my theatrical knowledge is broad I don't consider it broad enough to make such sweeping proclamations.

No, this list was created with a pretty specific list of caveats.  It is confined entirely to productions I have personally experienced, and the specific casts I saw in those productions.  Also, I have borrowed Playbill.com's convention of limiting the list to Broadway productions, as it provides a narrower field to choose from (and has honestly been the home of almost all of the best theatre I've seen).  And in making my picks, I focused on productions that were outstanding as a whole, which has led to the exclusion of some of my favorite individual performances because the vehicles they starred in were flawed in some way.  Perhaps one day I'll make a companion list that is performer-based, but for now, a stellar production overrules a singular star turn.

Oh, and one last note: the shows are in alphabetical order, because attempting to rank them from 1 to 10 simply proved too difficult.  At this level, separating number 1 from number 2 or number 9 from number 10 would be splitting hairs.

Here's the start of the list:

August: Osage County

Perfection personified.  The acting ensemble for August: Osage County was everything!

  

On my first trip to New York after college, I bought a seat in the back of the balcony to August: Osage County based entirely on the ecstatic word of mouth from my friends.  The following three-and-a-half hours were some of the most thrillingly theatrical I've ever experienced, as playwright Tracy Letts and the astound ensemble of actors hurled the Great American Drama into the 21st century.  A deftly written dark comedy at turns hilarious and chilling, this Pulitzer Prize-winning masterpiece was riveting, and I left with a renewed sense of excitement about the possibilities of theatre as an artistic medium. 

The cast, all of whom transferred with the play from its world premiere at the Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Chicago, was uniformly astounding, forming a tightly-knit ensemble that truly felt as if they had known each other their entire lives.  They were the Weston clan, and the extended second act dinner scene was one of the greatest master classes in acting that I've ever seen.  And while everyone was phenomenal, I must give special mention to Amy Morton as the eldest Weston daughter, Barbara.  Her slow unraveling under the psychological torture of her monstrous mother was mesmerizing, and her bellowed declaration of "I'm running things now!" at the end of Act II was perhaps the most electrifying curtain line in any play ever.  I would gladly have watched three more hours of such astonishing acting, and to this day August remains one of the finest dramas I've ever experienced.

Avenue Q

Puppets, humans, and Gary Coleman all live in happy harmony down on Avenue Q.

A smartly written, expertly executed examination of the struggles of early twenty-somethings in the new millennium, Avenue Q will forever be remembered as the show that beat megahit Wicked for the 2004 Best Musical Tony.  Having seen both productions just before said award was handed out, I must say that I wholeheartedly agree with the Tony voters' choice.  Avenue Q went far beyond its gimmicky-sounding Sesame-Street-meets-South-Park premise to become the perfect distillation of early-2000s pop culture, and in my opinion had a heart far bigger than the giant set-pieces on display at the Gershwin Theatre.  The show had me *howling* with laughter, even though I knew all of the songs by heart long before I made a trip to the Golden Theatre to actually see the show that contained them.

And while that was in no small part due to the writing, the insanely talented ensemble took the show over the edge as far as quality was concerned.  Most shows have two or three stand-out numbers; in the hands of that original cast, Avenue Q had 8 or 9.  John Tartaglia's and Stephanie D'Abruzzo's dual roles helped show me what true musical theatre acting looks like; when Kate Monster had her confrontation with Lucy the Slut I thought little of it until I realized D'Abruzzo played both characters, at which point my jaw dropped.  And I will never understand how Ann Harada failed to even be nominated for her career-defining work as Christmas Eve; a supremely talented comedienne, Harada had me rolling in the aisles and then blew me away with her powerhouse vocals on "The More You Ruv Someone."  10 years later I can still clearly remember large swaths of this show, and those memories never fail to bring a smile to my face.


That's all for now.  Check back soon for the next 4 shows in my top 10, including the show I'm fairly certain is my favorite theatrical experience of all time.

This Girl is Far from Revolting

Review:  Matilda

It's not a dream; Matilda really is as good as you've heard.

 

The producers of the American premiere of the Olivier-winning smash hit Matilda have done themselves a great disservice by allowing the musical to be marketed as a children’s show.  True, there is nothing anyone but the most overprotective parents would find in the least bit offensive, but there is more wit, intelligence, and invention in this adaptation of the Roald Dahl novel than in any other Broadway musical of the season.  This is a show of supreme sophistication which dares to actually challenge its young audience rather than speak down to them, and offers as many if not more pleasures for the adults lucky enough to find themselves in the audience.

Like the book on which it’s based, the musical follows the misadventures of precocious 5-year-old Matilda as she begins her first year of school.  Unwanted by her vapid and emotionally abusive parents – her father refuses to even acknowledge her gender, repeatedly referring to her as “boy” – Matilda has taken solace in reading and study.  Her incredible intelligence immediately catches the attention of her meek but kind-hearted teacher, Miss Honey, who quietly vows to do everything she can to help Matilda reach her extraordinary potential.  Unfortunately the headmistress of Matilda’s school is the villainous Miss Trunchbull, whose motto “Bambinatum est Maggitum" (“Children Are Maggots”) tells you everything you need to know about why her presence is a problem.

The libretto by Dennis Kelly is a bravura piece of theatrical writing, establishing the show’s off-kilter tone with such assuredness that you buy into it immediately.  Simultaneously oversized and understated, the characters inhabit a realm of magical realism that is utterly fascinating without losing the feeling of familiarity.  Kelly has gifted his hyper-literate lead and her cohorts with some of the sharpest dialogue to grace the musical stage in years, and Matilda’s unending amount of wordplay and dry humor is positively delicious.  Kelly has also created a framing device in which Matilda tells the local librarian serialized fragments of a seemingly inconsequential story that slowly illuminate the quirky intelligence of his heroine and her feelings about the series of mishaps she finds herself in.  And on top of everything else, Kelly also manages to work in some rather biting satire of modern-day parenting without distracting from the main narrative, giving the show an added layer of social commentary on top of its already full plate.

The songs by Tim Minchin are equally inventive.  In fact, one of the few knocks against the show is that between the lightning-fast tempos and the sometimes shrill registers of the children’s ensemble, it is almost impossible to fully comprehend Minchin’s incredibly playful lyrics.  It’s never enough of a problem that it obscures the story, but the lyrics you do catch are so damned clever you can’t help but feel like you’re missing out on something worth hearing.  Musically, the score is light and bouncy, with a few tender ballads thrown in to keep things fresh.  Minchin hasn’t written an enormous number of songs for Matilda, but what is present perfectly balances with Kelly’s dynamite libretto and the needs of the narrative.

Matthew Warchus elevates this already strong material to the next level through his ingenious direction, which keeps the show moving and visual interest high.  He effortlessly conjures up feelings of dread or elation as the situation dictates, and at multiple points his staging is genuinely jaw-dropping (special praise must be given to Matilda’s arrival at her appropriately ominous school, which left me speechless).  Warchus is aided and abetted by the incredible word-tile set of Rob Howell, which has exploded well beyond the confines of the Shubert Theatre stage and taken over the entire auditorium.  If you somehow find yourself bored by the onstage action (an unlikely scenario, to be sure), spotting the thematically important words carefully hidden among the scenery is entertainment onto itself, and this exceptionally versatile set seamlessly transforms into whatever is required.

Matilda is such a stellar example of strong writing and direction that it’s easy to underrate the contributions of the cast, which is uniformly excellent.  Four young actresses share the title role, and if they are all as effortlessly enchanting as young Oona Laurence (who played the performance I saw), we have four future stars on our hands.  There is a nuance and understated complexity to her Matilda that is rarely seen in actors so young, and she effortlessly carries the show on her petite shoulders.  Laurence is complimented by the insanely talented collection of child actors playing her classmates, whose abounding energy has been perfectly harnessed by Warchus and choreographer Peter Darling to create the most gleefully unique bunch of misfits on the Great White Way.  The children’s numbers, of which there are many, are more cleanly executed than those in musicals with adult casts, and not because Darling has dumbed down his steps for the young performers.  These kids are blissfully unaware of how difficult what they’re doing truly is, and their energy is completely infectious.

The adults are thankfully just as good.  Lauren Ward gives a pitch perfect performance as the meekly maternal Miss Honey, beautifully complimenting Matilda’s yearning for love and acceptance with her own.  In addition to sounding lovely, Ward brings exactly the kind of warm, calming presence the role demands.  But it’s the antagonists that get to have the real fun, and all of the nasty adults in Matilda’s life make scenery chewing meals out of their delightfully daffy roles.  As Matilda’s neglectful parents, Lesli Margherita and Gabriel Ebert are utterly despicable and yet endlessly entertaining.  The pair has managed to add enough venom to their performances to be effective without being so harsh that their antics become tiring, and both bring excellent comic timing to their respective roles.  And as Matilda’s impossibly stupid older brother, Taylor Trensch turns his monosyllabic lines into comedy gold.

Towering over everyone else in the cast is Bertie Carvel’s absolutely magnificent turn as Miss Trunchbull, the Olympic-level hammer thrower and headmistress of Matilda’s school.  Carvel’s every hand gesture, facial tic, and change in inflection is completely compelling, a master class in character acting that completely disguises the performer underneath.  Although Carvel’s dressed in drag, with no real effort made to disguise that fact, you instantly believe that he is Trunchbull, thanks to the combination of his unequaled commitment and magnetic stage presence.  It’s difficult to say this perfectly balanced show would be better by adding more of Carvel, but every time the actor leaves the stage you eagerly anticipate his next appearance.

Although imported from London’s West End, everything about Matilda screams Broadway.  It is a show where absolutely everyone involved is working at the highest possible level, from the writers and performers to the production team and the expert craftsmen responsible for the gorgeously detailed sets and costumes.  While the smallest theatregoers may be too young to fully appreciate the brilliance of Matilda, it is a show that can be enjoyed by everyone from age 8 to 80 and beyond.  It is one of the few British transfers that full delivers on the lofty expectations created by its pre-opening buzz, and is not to be missed.

Shakespeare Sings, and It's (Mostly) Beautiful Music

Review:  Love’s Labour’s Lost

It's Shakespeare, but it's fun!  See?  His bowtie is untied and everything!

 

The Public Theatre’s annual Shakespeare in the Park program was started with a very simple mission: to provide free Shakespeare to the entirety of New York City, not just those able to afford the increasingly high price of theatre tickets.  Over the years this mission has expanded to include revivals of other classic playwrights and even the occasional musical, with multiple productions eventually transferring to healthy and critically acclaimed runs on Broadway.  This year the Public is using the program to launch an original musical for only the third time in its history, reuniting the creative team of the Tony-nominated Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson for a reimagining of the Bard’s early comedy Love’s Labour’s Lost.  And while the Public is clearly hoping that the show follows in the footsteps of Two Gentlemen of Verona and The Mystery of Edwin Drood, shows that transferred to Broadway and won Best Musical, this slickly produced new work is in need of at least one major round of rewrites before being ready for the big leagues.

For those unfamiliar with Shakespeare’s original play (and I must confess that I was not), the plot concerns the King of Navarre and three of his noble friends forswearing women and other earthly delights in order to devote themselves to study and personal betterment.  This vow is immediately tested by the arrival of the Princess of France and her entourage, who have come on behalf of her father to discuss some financial matters.  In an attempt to keep his vow the King insists the women camp outside his house rather than enter it, but the noblemen and women soon fall desperately in love.  There is also a subplot involving a Spanish lothario named Armado who is attempting to woo a tavern wench named Jaquenetta, and several other periphery characters that seem to be given a disproportionately large amount of stage time in comparison to their almost complete irrelevance to the plot.

Since I have neither seen nor read the original Shakespeare play, I cannot tell if this production’s narrative problems stem from the original text or from bookwriter/director Alex Timbers’ adaptation of it.  But the problems are definitely there, with multiple characters feeling underwritten and besieged by inconsistent motivations.  The show’s resolution also isn’t nearly as tidy as the almost painfully thorough denouements Shakespeare is known for, although the bizarre tonal shift at the play’s end does stem from the source material.  Timbers would have been better served by cutting several nonessential characters and subplots during his condensation of the show’s narrative, which would have allowed him more time to explore the principle characters and sharpen the thematic parallels between the love story of the nobles and the Armado/Jaquenetta subplot.

On the positive side, Timbers’ reimagining of the characters and setting is often ingenious.  He has reset the show in the present day and recast the noblemen and women as Ivy League college grads.  The men’s vow to devote themselves to further study calls to mind the decision many young people make to enter grad school rather than confront the harsh realities of adult life that their education and upbringing has done so little to prepare them for.  It is a crisis that will be especially familiar to the Millennials in the audience, and makes the play double as a funhouse commentary on the very real challenges facing today’s young adults. 

Timbers also does an excellent job of blending the contemporary jargon found in Michael Friedman’s lyrics with the Shakespearean dialogue used in the book scenes, and does a much better job of integrating Friedman’s rock-influenced score into the show’s structure than the pair managed in Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, whose music often felt like an afterthought.  The score is also much more accomplished than the bare bones affair Friedman created for Bloody Bloody, although the composer still doesn’t have a firm grasp on how to use reprises and often struggles to find appropriate buttons for his sometimes truncated songs.

The slickness of Timbers’ and Friedman’s writing is matched by the outstanding production design.  John Lee Beaty’s unit set is one of the most visually interesting constructions the prolific designer has created for the Delacorte stage, and is perfectly complimented by Jennifer Moeller’s spectacular modern dress costumes.  Jeff Croiter beautifully lights all of the onstage shenanigans, with designs ranging from naturalistic mood lighting to rock concert razzle dazzle with a pit stop into the world of Eastern European performance art strobe lights.  (And while we’re on the subject, the deliciously non-sequitur performance art set piece is easily the highlight of the evening, and one of the most side-splittingly funny moments of the year.)

It is unfortunate that the performances don’t achieve the same uniform cohesion as the physical production.  Some of the actors do great work and some struggle unsuccessfully to make their characters pop, which only serves to highlight the show’s less successful moments.  In general, the women make a greater impression than the men, with Patti Murin’s indignant valley girl Princess emerging as the most consistently engaging performance of the evening.  Murin possesses excellent comic timing and a fine voice, while bringing a depth to the role that almost sells the heavy-handed ending the show is saddled with.  Rebecca Naomi Jones’ Jaquenetta has been gifted with the show’s best song, the smoldering rock ballad “Love’s a Gun,” and she knocks it out of the part.  But most importantly, the women display a genuine camaraderie and sense of teamwork that is sorely lacking among the men.

Colin Donnell comes across the better than the rest of his male costars as Berowne, the most conflicted of the four nobles, but Donnell’s role is more fully developed than most and even at his best he rarely rises above passable.  Daniel Breaker’s King has his moments, although his characterization also feels unintentionally separate from the rest of the noblemen.  Caesar Samayoa plays Armado as a dim puppy dog who is far too eager to please, and his cloyingly indulgent performance will repeatedly test the audience’s patience.  It is disappointing that such a high profile production ended up with such an uneven cast, and there are times where it’s obvious the dubious performances are holding the material back from the greatness it is pursuing.

Despite its many flaws, there is definitely potential in this material.  The writing shows flashes of brilliance and invention without disrespecting its source material, and the rock score is generally pleasing to the ear even if it isn’t particularly memorable.  Unlike too many new musicals, Lost never feels like it’s overstaying its welcome, and the intermissionless two hours is just about the perfect amount of time for it to tell it’s simple but engaging story.  It is often beautiful to look at, with the direction complimenting the design work perfectly.  If the cast doesn’t always reach the level one would hope for, there are certainly more good performances than bad, and several of the young leads are clearly on the cusp of the next level of stardom.  The show isn’t quite strong enough to merit a transfer, so anyone who is interested should hurry out and catch it before it disappears into the balmy summer night.