A Star is Born (But Not Who You Think)

Review: Dames at Sea

Eloise Kropp (center) and the tap-happy cast of Dames at Sea

The beautiful contradiction of Dames at Sea is that it is a send-up of the lavish, large scale Busby Berkeley movie musicals of the 1930s performed by just 6 actors. Conceived for a tiny Off-Off-Broadway space, the original production made a star of Bernadette Peters, and since its premiere over 40 years ago the show has been produced by countless high school, amateur, and regional theatre companies. Now this delightful piece of tomfoolery has docked on the (comparatively) big stage of the Helen Hayes Theatre for its Broadway debut, in a first rate production that has been suitably jazzed up for contemporary audiences without losing any of the show's beguiling old school charms.

The plot is paper thin and purposefully ridiculous, spoofing the "a star is born" stories so commonly seen in backstage musicals. Ruby is the sweet, innocent girl fresh off the bus from Utah who has come to New York dreaming of making it big. She is instantly cast as a replacement dancer in big time star Mona Kent's next Broadway vehicle, and while the outsized diva isn't exactly happy about her newfound competition, she does fancy Dick, a talented songwriting sailor and Ruby's one true love. When the cast learns their theatre is set to be demolished that very day, they concoct a plan to premiere their show on Dick's naval ship, but will they be able to pull everything together in time???

Of course they will. There's never any doubt about how things will work out, as the whole point of Dames at Sea is to lovingly mock the fact that we have seen this story many, many times before. With Dames it is all about the journey rather than the destination, and in this case said journey is filled with jaunty throwback numbers, delightfully kooky characters, and some of the most elaborate 6 person tap routines imaginable. Director/choreographer Randy Skinner stages the expanded dance sequences with an expert eye and incredibly versatile tap vocabulary, giving solos and duets the same amount of smile-inducing razzle dazzle most directors need an entire chorus to conjure. Skinner also has an excellent handle on the show's over the top but completely earnest tone, keeping things moving along at such a breezy pace that everything feels fresh despite the abundance of dated period references.

Skinner's hard working, eminently likable cast handles this deceptively tricky balancing act with ease, and with one slight but notable exception they are all outstanding. That exception would be the doe-eyed and sweet-voiced Eloise Kropp as Ruby, who unfortunately is not the breakout star that by all accounts Peters was in the original. Kropp admirably anchors the show with her sincere naivety while still tapping up a storm, but misses a lot of the farcical comedy lurking just beneath the script's surface. If Kropp doesn't take full advantage of the comedic opportunities presented by the material, it is still difficult to dislike someone so winsomely earnest, and Kropp is by no means bad; she is simply not ideal.

The one benefit of having a slightly underwhelming Ruby is that absolutely nothing distracts from the pitch perfect comic shenanigans of Lesli Margherita as Mona. Margherita chews all of the scenery, spits it out, and chews it again in a deliriously campy performance that is Norma Desmond by way of Ethel Merman. The show gives Margherita permission to go as far as she wants with Mona's over the top antics, something the brassy comedienne commits to with complete gutso. She dances like a dream and belts to the rafters, turning the parody torch song "The Mister Man of Mine" into a roof rattling showstopper that is the evening's clear high point. This Dames belongs to Margherita, who will hopefully be gracing our stages for many, many years to come.

The rest of the cast also does fine work, with Mara Davi providing a particularly strong take on sexy yet classy chorus girl Joan. Cary Tedder embodies the young leading man stereotype with ease, and as fellow sailor Lucky, Danny Gardner makes an excellent Donald O'Connor-type to Tedder's Gene Kelly-esque Dick. John Bolton hams it up in the dual roles of show producer Hennesey and the naval Captain, knowing just when to steal focus and when to defer to his castmates' talents. All of the actors look great in David C. Woolard's candy colored costumes and on Anna Louizos' simple but effective set, which is beautifully lit by Ken Billington and Jason Kantrowitz.

Dames at Sea is the perfect antidote to the sometimes overblown spectacle of contemporary Broadway, a loving homage to a simpler time when a catchy tune and a well executed dance routine were all that an audience required. Thanks to strong direction by Skinner and a smart choice of theatre, the show has been suitably upsized for the big leagues without losing the small scale charm that makes it work in the first place. Strong performances all around and a truly exceptional star turn by Lesli Margherita make this a maritime journey worth taking, as these Dames are the real deal.

Loud, Boisterous, and Lacking Imagination

Review: Finding Neverland

Matthew Morrison (center) and the cast of Finding Neverland.

At one point during Finding Neverland, the bombastic new musical currently playing at the Lunt-Fontaine Theatre, a secondary character turns to the audience and clearly mouths, "What the f***?" This is supposed to be a comical rejoinder to author J.M. Barrie's fantastical description of the fictional world of Neverland, but also represents the most logical reaction to the spectacle-driven nonsense being presented onstage. The production is so busy trying to impress that minor annoyances like a coherent narrative and a well written score are left by the wayside to make room for more pomp and circumstance, resulting in a musical that fails to coalesce into more than the sum of its disjointed parts.

Based on the 2004 film of the same name, Finding Neverland centers on the creation of one of the most enduring children's tales in all of Western literature, Peter Pan. At the musical's start playwright J.M. Barrie is a well-established fixture of the London theatre scene, yet while his shows are still popular the general consensus is that his best work is behind him. While Barrie struggles to find inspiration for a play he can actually be proud of writing, a chance meeting with widow Sylvia Llewelyn Davies and her four rambunctuous boys reignites the imagination that has laid dormant inside Barrie for years. As the writer grows closer to Davies and her boys, he begins to shape the story that would become Peter Pan's adventures in Neverland, a play so different from London has ever seen that many doubt the show will work.

The understated charms of the film have been replaced here with the kind of pop-influenced histrionics that defined Broadway for a good deal of the 1990s, and the relatively slim narrative simply cannot support the added weight. It doesn't help that James Graham's book has  almost nothing to do with Gary Barlow and Eliot Kennedy's inoffensively generic songs, whose sole purpose appears to be providing a backdrop to the unneccesarily manic choreography by Emmy-winner Mia Michaels. None of the musical numbers succeed in illuminating character or conveying any emotion other than a vague desire to please, and even that is quickly drowned out by the overly applified orchestra that lords over the evening's proceedings. It's not that the songs are bad so much as they are unmemorable, to the point where the majority of them are forgotten by the time their final measure has ended.

There are glimmers of an interesting idea here and there in the book scenes, but Graham never adequately explores them. Several lines plant the seeds for the core concepts and story beats of Peter Pan, but Neverland never acknowledges this foreshadowing in anything other than a joking way. It would be much more satisfying to see Barrie actively latch on to these remarks about fairies, mermaids, and pirates to construct his story, but as written they seem like a bizarre coincidences rather than deliberately drawn parallels. The musical's first act finale centers around the idea that Barrie must embrace his dark side to give Peter Pan some much needed dramatic tension (and its famous villain, Captain Hook), but since Graham gives no indication Barrie has a dark side before or after this sequence it just seems like a manufactured plot point. The one thing Graham does spend an inordinate amount of time on is anarcharistic, tired meta jokes like having in-story actors ask "what's my motivation" or letting one of the overly precocious Davies boys ask if he'll receive any royalties for his contributions to Peter Pan.

It is frankly shocking that director Diane Paulus, who has helmed outstanding revivals of Hair, Porgy & Bess, and Pippin in recent years, allowed this kind of lowest common denomentator nonsense to take place under her watch. Paulus really should know better, and given her success at disguising the dramaturgical flaws of some of the previously mentioned musicals it is unnerving to see her put something so half-baked onstage. At the same time, Finding Neverland gives the impression that without Paulus at the helm it would be much, much worse, especially taking the aforementioned script issues into account. Without Paulus' bold, visually driven staging the show would be virtually unwatchable.

As is, the production is still difficult to stomach, as watching obviously talented individuals struggle to overcome material that does them no favors is never pleasant. Matthew Morrison gives a perfectly serviceable performance as J.M. Barrie, but is hampered by the lack of interesting material that actual explores the playwright's psyche. A consumate professional, Morrison hits all his marks, participates some rather physical staging and choreography, and sings with a pleasant baritone that does its best to inject emotion into the bland songs. At times Morrison appears to be marking things, although whether that's due to a disdain for the material or sheer exhaustion is difficult to tell (the character of Barrie rarely leaves the stage, so exhaustion is not out of the question).

Laura Michelle Kelly is suitably winsome as the widowed Sylvia, and her struggles with an unnamed illness (probably tuberculosis) bring Neverland as close to genuine drama as the show cares to get. Unfortunately, Barlow and Kennedy have chosen some rather dubious keys for Sylvia's big songs, and Kelly's generally lovely voice doesn't always agree with the notes it's being asked to sing. The role of Barrie's American producer Charles Frohman has since been taken over by Terrance Mann, but at the performance I saw Anthony Warlow did fine work in a role that is more plot device and joke delivery machine than actual character. Teal Wicks and Carolee Carmello are both wasted in underwritten secondary roles, and while the rest of the ensemble clearly has talent they spend so much time shamelessly mugging that they come across as rather obnoxious.

The physical production walks a fine line between ornate and garish, mostly sticking to the former. Suttirat Anne Larlarb's costumes are the most consistently appealing, utilizing a rich, jewel-toned color palate and just enough over the top details to establish a fantastical tone while maintaining a connection to the real world. Scott Pask's set mostly fades into the background, except for a strange clock motif which stands out because it isn't really referenced anywhere else in the design or the show's story.

Finding Neverland clearly wants to be everyone's new favorite musical, and judging by the audience reaction and the robust box office numbers it might even be succeeding. But don't let that fool you into thinking this is anything other than a by the numbers project that struggles and ultimately fails to overcome its pedestrian score and truly atrocious book. There is not enough pixie dust in the world to make Neverland fly, and no amount of stagecraft can disguise that fact. The only thing that takes the edge off a director as talented as Paulus helming something this awful is the knowledge that without her prodigious talents it would have been much, much worse.