50 Years Old and as Fresh as Ever

Review: The Boys in the Band

From left to right: Charlie Carver, Andrew Rannells, Tuc Watkins, Jim Parsons, Robin de Jesus, Matt Bomer, and Zachary Quinto in The Boys in the Bands.

There is a moment in The Boys in the Band, Mart Crowley's groundbreaking 1968 play about a group of gay New Yorkers, where the men dial back their effeminate behavior to avoid upsetting a less-than-accepting party crasher. Watching the star-studded ensemble of openly gay actors subtly modify their body language, mannerisms, and vocal inflections in order to "pass" for straight is both breathtaking in its simplicity and profoundly moving, a wonderfully naturalistic moment that encapsulates everything that is exceptional about Joe Mantello's first rate production. These men - both the characters and the out and proud actors who portray them - are intimately familiar with that particular conflict between being your authentic self and trying desperately not to rock the boat for fear of retribution, and that bubbling undercurrent of internalized homophobia informs every aspect of Crowley's deceptively powerful script.

The premise of The Boys in the Band, like many great dramas before and after it, involves a group of people gathering together, drinking heavily, and proceeding to eviscerate one another while dealing with years of emotional baggage. In this case, the group is a collection of gay men throwing a birthday party for their friend Harold in the opulently appointed apartment of Michael. Initially a joyous if somewhat catty celebration - the men throw shade at one another with pinpoint accuracy thanks to Crowley's caustically funny one liners - things take a dark turn when Michael's possibly closeted college roommate crashes the party and takes offense at the blatantly fay behavior on display. When the mental stress causes a previously sober Michael to fall off the wagon, the claws come out and no one is safe from his unmitigated rage.

It is shocking how immediate and relevant Crowley's script remains a half century after its initial premiere, a fascinating example of both how much and how little has changed about gay culture in the intervening decades. Stonewall, the AIDS crisis, and marriage equality have all seismically altered gay life in America, and yet many of the issues facing the characters in Crowley's play are the same as those that gay men grapple with today. There's the self-loathing that comes from growing up in an environment that states, either implicitly or explicitly, that it would be better if you weren't gay, and the lifelong effect that has on one's ability to connect with other human beings. There's the question of what exactly a loving homosexual relationship should look like: should it mirror the monogamous template favored by heterosexual couples, or is an open arrangement that allows for other sexual partners a viable alternative? Does the constant belittlement gay men experience excuse their tendency to inflict the same kind of taunts on one another, and how is that compounded when discussing queer people of color?

All of these issued are embodied by an impeccably cast ensemble of top tier talent. Jim Parsons is close to a revelation as Michael, the party's host and evening's protagonist. While the play's opening scenes allow the Emmy-winning television star to rely mostly on the skills that have served him so well on The Big Bang Theory, once Michael turns to drink the actor goes into much darker and more surprising territory. The ferocity with which Parsons turns on his supposed friends is astounding, and like the characters in the play you find yourself becoming more and more terrified of the unbridled malice he displays. And when Michael finally crumbles under the weight of what he's done, Parsons bares his soul in a raw and emotionally devastating climax that will leave you stunned speechless.

Two-time Tony-nominee Robin de Jesus also shines as Emory, the most flamboyant and overtly femme member of the group. de Jesus is responsible for many of the evening's biggest belly laughs thanks to his impeccably timed delivery, but it's his gut wrenching monologue about Emory's difficult childhood that leaves the longest lasting impression. Tuc Watkins and Tony-nominee Andrew Rannells bring believable depth and complexity to their fraught onstage relationship as two men with very different ideas of what commitment looks like, a relationship which ends up being one of the more uplifting storylines of the evening. And in a less showy role, Matt Bomer makes a confident Broadway debut as Michael's sometimes-lover and the oft-ignored voice of reason.

Director Joe Mantello has once again worked his magic here, subtly but assuredly guiding his actors' performances so that every bit of stage business further reveals either character or plot. His beautifully understated direction belies the extreme specificity used to usher this work onto the Great White Way - the original production ran for over 1000 performances Off-Broadway, but this is the show's Broadway premiere - amping up the emotion while maintaining the intimacy and even claustrophobia necessary to make the drama really land. Mantello's pacing is first-rate, giving this intermissionless work room to breath without ever letting it drag, and cultivating an ever-growing sense of dread as both the audience and the characters realize they are getting far more than they signed on for. And the way Mantello deploys his actors over David Zinn's spectacularly varied unit set ensures the production is always a joy to look at (Zinn also designed the period-perfect and expertly tailored 1960s costumes).

Given the talent both onstage and behind the scenes, it isn't surprising that The Boys in the Band is one of the hottest tickets of the summer. It isn't even that surprising that the show's Broadway bow is so expertly realized. What is downright remarkable is that in its own way, this small show has as much to say about the gay experience in America as the recently closed and rightfully lauded epic Angels in America. It is a darkly comic drama polished to near perfection, and an absolutely necessary history lesson in gay culture and interpersonal dynamics. If there are still any tickets left for the remainder of The Boys in the Band's limited run, snatch them up quick; this is essential viewing.

Welcome to Falsettoland

Review: Falsettos

The cast of Falsettos, one of the most hotly anticipated musicals of the fall season.

Alternatively messy and engaging, the first Broadway revival of William Finn and James Lapine's Falsettos highlights the core strengths and weaknesses of the piece in sometimes unexpected ways. Originally premiering on Broadway in 1992, the show is composed of two one act musicals (which debuted Off-Broadway in 1981 and 1990 respectively) that chart the growth of gay protagonist Marvin's unorthodox family over the course of two years. While some of the narrative specifics are deeply tied to the late '70s/early '80s setting, this production thankfully proves the show's core themes of love, family, and identity are universal and still relevant despite the huge advances in gay rights and the advent of marriage equality. Unfortunately, this production also highlights how the William Finn who wrote March of the Falsettos, the basis for Act I, is a far inferior writer to the William Finn who wrote Falsettoland, the basis for Act II.

In Act I, we are introduced to Marvin, who has left his ex-wife Trina and their son Jason to live with his male lover, Whizzer. The breakup of Marvin's traditional family unit has left all three in various states of distress, leading each to seek the help of Mendel, a therapist with questionable professional ethics who ultimately becomes involved with Trina. The second act moves the action forward two years and sees everyone obsessing over the planning of Jason's upcoming bar mitzvah, while also introducing the specter of the AIDS crisis.

Act I proves to be a rather disjointed affair, more of an impressionistic character study than a coherent narrative. The young Finn has yet to refine his signature off-kilter sensibility, which comes across as manic here and lacks the thematic coherence which connects his later flights of fancy. Musically the writing isn't anywhere near as complex or interesting as Finn's later work, and as a result both the performers and director James Lapine (who also wrote the book) seem slightly adrift as they struggle to sell the material. The songs don't build the way you want them to, and Lapine attempts to compensate for this lack of emotional momentum by having the performers constantly rearrange the pieces of David Rockwell's jenga cube of a set. Layer onto this Spencer Liff's awkwardly flailing choreography - which often hinders the performer's ability to enunciate their lyrics - and the first half of Falsettos becomes an exhaustively busy journey with characters that aren't particularly likable or compelling.

Act II is a much richer and more rewarding experience, as it's clear that in the nine years between writing March of the Falsettos and Falsettoland Finn vastly matured as a songwriter and storyteller. Centering the act on Jason's impending bar mitzvah gives Finn and Lapine a stronger foundation to build their characters' quirky behavior around, and Finn becomes much more adept at tempering his characters' off-putting neuroses with humanizing qualities. Even with the introduction of two additional characters - Cordelia and Dr. Charlotte, the "lesbians next door" - everyone feels more nuanced and alive in the second half, and the show does a better job of balancing its wry cynicism with deeply felt emotion. With stronger writing to work with, Lapine and the cast are able to relax; the busy choreography is all but abandoned, and Lapine's staging is less self-consciously showy. The two halves are integrated enough that it would rob Act II of some of its impact to completely throw out Act I, but the jump in quality is pronounced.

The best unifying element of this revival is the strength of its cast, all of whom range from good to great. As Marvin, Christian Borle abandons the scenery chewing that has defined his last two Broadway outings to deliver a more nuanced, believable characterization. Unfortunately, the first half of the show really highlights Marvin's self-serving qualities, something you wish Borle was able to undercut with some tenderness to make him a more likable protagonist. The second act gives Borle a lot more opportunity to show different sides of Marvin, and ultimately your heart breaks with him during the show's final scene (which also features the most striking image of Lapine's staging).

Andrew Rannells is a competent foil as Whizzer, although you wish the show afforded him more of a chance to show off his comedic chops. Brandon Uranowitz brings much appreciated authenticity to his portrayal of Mendel, and young Anthony Rosenthal's innate charm makes the temperamental Jason feel like a real preteen rather than an adult author's caricature of one. Tracie Thoms and Betsy Wolfe are a welcomed presence as the next door neighbors, with Thoms notably in very fine voice throughout.

But the cast's biggest standout is Stephanie J. Block, back on Broadway for the first time since her Tony-nominated turn in The Mystery of Edwin Drood. As Trina, Block blossoms into the most compellingly drawn and engaging character in the show, to the point where she often feels like the lead in what is ostensibly Marvin's show. Block is certainly its emotional center, which makes her effortless delivery of "I'm Breaking Down," one of the most broadly comedic songs in the show, all the more impressive. Block offers a fascinating peak beneath Trina's determinedly perfect facade, showing us a woman not wholly prepared to deal with the curveballs life has given her and yet soldiering on anyway. It is a marvelously accomplished performance which is endlessly watchable and yet never overstated.

Overall, there is both good and bad to be found in Falsettos, and it's unfortunate that the less successful elements are concentrated in the first half. By the end of the night, Falsettos proves to be an engaging and even moving portrait of an imperfect yet loving family, with the talented cast doing much to smooth over the rough patches at the beginning of the show. When the show stops being concerned with novelty and showiness, it truly sings, illustrating how the trials and tribulations of love and family are the same no matter what your sexual orientation.

Broadway and the Burden of Unrealistic Expectations

Tony-nominee Andrew Rannells dons Hedwig's wig and high heels through October 12th, at which point Michael C. Hall takes over.

For the third week in a row, Playbill.com has felt the need to take thinly disguised digs at Andrew Rannells' box office performance in Hedwig and the Angry Inch. And while nothing they have reported has been untrue, the way they are spinning the story is indicative of a problem in the way they and many others view Broadway grosses, and the unrealistic expectations placed on most shows.

In case you somehow hadn't heard, Tony-winner Neil Patrick Harris brought in ridiculous amounts of cash during his 5 month stint as the German transgendered rocker. The show was routinely sold-out, set various house records at the Belasco Theatre, and spent most of the summer grossing more than $1 million per week. Obviously, the producers of the revival were wise to wait until Harris' schedule allowed him to do the show before mounting a Broadway production, which recouped its entire investment in mid-July. It was a given that the show would see a decrease in box office receipts when Harris departed (it was mildly surprising the producers decided to keep the show running without him), but I think spinning Rannells' run thus far as a financial disappointment is a disservice to Rannells, the show, and Broadway in general.

Last week, Hedwig made $514,411 (59% of its potential gross) and played to 70% capacity crowds. That is a large step down from last week's 81% potential gross and 93% full houses and an even bigger drop from Harris' heyday, but every single show on Broadway saw significant (often six figure) drops in grosses following the Labor Day holiday. The one exception to this is the Nathan Lane-Matthew Broderick led It's Only a Play, which managed to buck the trend by having 8 performances instead of the 5 it had the week before. Hedwig is still doing better, gross-wise, than the much more expensive Cinderella, Best Musical winner Once, and the Diane Paulus-helmed Pippin.

Considering that Hedwig is a cult musical which until a few months ago no one was sure could succeed on the Great White Way and has lost its main selling point, I'd call those numbers just fine. As a small show with low running costs which has already recouped (there aren't many costumes or pricey technical elements, and you can bet that Rannells' salary isn't anywhere near what Harris was being paid), Hedwig likely has a very low bar to clear in order to remain profitable. And while Rannells is popular within theatre circles, he doesn't have nearly the mainstream appeal or drawing power as Harris. Viewed in that light, the fact that he and the Hedwig brand can fill the Belasco to 70% capacity during a notoriously slow time of year is something to be celebrated.

The fact that many people view these numbers as disappointing points to a larger problem in the unrealistic expectations producers and the public have for Broadway shows. Because shows like Wicked and The Lion King have done so well for so many years, they have erroneously become the yard sticks by which a potential hit is judged. This is akin to saying that an athlete is no good because they aren't performing at Olympic medal levels, which is absolutely ridiculous. The last place finisher at the Olympics is still better than a huge percentage of the population, and the fact that Hedwig continues to run (and has just announced an extension into January 2015) while other spring shows have already closed is a testament to how well the show is doing financially. Just because a show isn't making $1 million a week doesn't mean it's doing poorly, and we shouldn't consider shows a disappointment if they don't run for 10+ years.

But unfortunately, many people do use those metrics as the measure of a show's success, which is unfair to the industry and all the very talented people working in it. It casts the industry in a poor light and makes the theatre seem much less healthy than it actually is; as I have stated before, I think the current model of more shows with shorter runs is ultimately better and more exciting for the industry artistically. And while I am not privy to any budgeting meetings for Broadway shows, I think too many shows are budgeted in a way that they have to do sell-out business to be financially viable, since that is what is expected of a "successful" show.

So let's try to focus on the positive. If a relative unknown like Andrew Rannells can retain such a large percentage of certified star Neil Patrick Harris' box office numbers, that is a win. It shows that audiences are in fact interested in the show and not just the lead actor, something that should be encouraging to all the people who decry Broadway's current obsession with celebrity vehicles. And if numbers continue to decline and Hedwig closes before the new year, who cares? By every metric that matters, the production is an unqualified success, and exposed a great piece of contemporary musical theatre to a much larger audience than could ever fit in the show's original Off-Broadway home and the small spaces it is traditionally performed in. To borrow the famed Gershwin lyric, "who could ask for anything more?"

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!

Hollywood is Calling

Well, that was quick.  Just a month after winning the Best Actress Tony for her work in Venus in Fur, Nina Arianda is headed off to Hollywood to star as Janis Joplin in a biopic about the late singer (re: try really, really hard to win an Oscar).  And I’m pretty damn upset about it.

Now, I’m a huge fan of Arianda and want her to have a successful career; I just want that career to be in the theatre.  Live theatre is one of the most difficult forms of entertainment around.  You don’t get to go back and do another take if you make a mistake, and you have to reach the same level of emotional intensity night after night since there’s no camera around to preserve your performance.  Being able to do that is a rare gift, one that Arianda is blessed to have, and if she decides to focus on a film career it is a gift the Broadway community will be deprived of. 

I understand the allure of film.  Even if you don’t subscribe to the romanticized and glamorous notions of Hollywood portrayed by the media, the simple truth is there’s just more money in film work.  You can make the same amount of money in a couple of months that it would take a year or more to make in the theatre, and if your movie/television show becomes really popular you can make a pretty penny by collecting residuals from work you’ve already done.  You can also reach a much wider audience more easily, increasing your fan base and thus your industry clout (the more people who like you, the more likely producers are to cast you).

However, when a Broadway actor starts their film career, I don’t see all of the opportunities that stand before them.  I see the amazing stage performances they won’t be able to give, and the great theatre that won’t get done because they were focusing their talents elsewhere.  Despite both falling under the blanket term “acting,” film and stage work are such different skillsets that excelling at one in no way guarantee success at the other, meaning a talented performer like Arianda could end up wasting years in a medium that doesn’t really suit her.  And on the flip side, what if she does turn out to be a brilliant film actress?  Then she might decide to focus exclusively on film (after all, that’s where the real money is) and never set foot onstage again, which would be an enormous loss for Broadway.

It is especially disappointing when someone abandons theatre for film and ends up in works not worthy of their immense gifts.  Take Kristin Chenoweth, who after her massive success in Wicked began doing film work that has rarely utilized her to her full potential.  Most of her movie and television roles fall under the supporting category, and the two examples I can think of where she had a starring role (her self-titled sitcom and GCB) were hardly successful.  Yes, she did eventually win an Emmy and seems to be respected by the film community, but it is nowhere near the level of acclaim she receives on Broadway.  If Chenoweth had continued to work primarily in the theatre, she would have been the Star of pretty much everything she did, and I can virtually guarantee she would have won her long sought-after second Tony Award by now.  Think of all the great Kristin Chenoweth stage performances we missed out on because she was busy doing shows like Glee.

We’ve been seeing a lot of stage performers head off to Hollywood lately, and like Arianda the timing of these announcements make it seem like they are purposefully abandoning Broadway.  Already a darling of the New York theatrical community, I have to believe that winning the Tony would have opened up all kinds of interesting stage projects to Arianda, even if she still had to do some leg work to find them.  Sutton Foster, one of the greatest musical comedy actresses working today, left the highly successful Anything Goes revival early to film ABC Family’s Bunheads.  Andrew Rannells and Josh Gad, after giving two of the funniest performances in recent memory and announcing the extension their Book of Mormon contracts into next February, both left the show last month to pursue TV projects.  We are losing our most promising new talents to the film industry, and they seem so eager to leave they aren’t even sticking around to the announced ends of their contracts.

I still adore all of the above mentioned actors, and I wish them nothing but success.  I just find it unfortunate that even the notoriously expensive Great White Way doesn’t pay well enough to encourage these talented folks to stick around.  At least in Arianda’s case I can take solace in the fact she chose movies over television, meaning there’s a better chance she’ll be able to squeeze in a play or two between gigs.  The grueling production schedules of a television series rarely leave enough time between seasons for an actor to rehearse and perform even a limited Broadway run, which is why Broadway went four long years without Audra McDonald while she was on Private Practice.  (The fact she returned with one of the most satisfying musical theatre performances of the decade does help make the wait seem more worthwhile.)

Hopefully Arianda and the rest will remember their theatrical roots and come back to visit once and a while.  The one positive of a film career (besides the increased bank account) is that it can result in enough fans that producers are able to sell tickets based on an actor’s name, which increases the chances said actor will actually get cast.  But I’m still hoping for a reversal to this trend, as Broadway cannot afford to continue losing our most promising talents to Hollywood’s cold, unfeeling embrace.

The Best Show of 2011

The Book of Mormon

Andrew Rannells in The Book of Mormon

“Hello.  My name is Elder Price, and I would like to share with you the most amazing book.”

With those innocent words, set to an ingenious sing-song melody, begins one of the most outrageously offensive, entertaining, and expertly crafted musicals of the last 20 years.  The Book of Mormon has taken Broadway by storm, winning every best musical prize imaginable and becoming a sold-out sensation on a level not seen since Wicked. It’s understandable that those who have yet to see Mormon may be suspicious of its ability to live up to the insane level of hype surrounding it.  But I promise you that it not only meets, but handily exceeds any and all expectations you may have.

My first time seeing the show (it’s so good I’ve made the time to see it twice more, and am already contemplating a fourth visit) ranks as one of the most memorable nights of the theatre in my life.  The air of excitement was palpable, as nobody knew quite what to expect from this mystery-shrouded show.  No publicity stills had been released, only the vaguest of plot summaries was available, and the musical numbers weren’t even listed in the Playbill.  I personally was hoping for something pretty exceptional, because Trey Parker and Matt Stone proved with the South Park movie they know what an expertly constructed musical looks like.  But even I wasn’t prepared for how jaw-droppingly amazing Mormon turned out to be.

The show has everything.  It features an incredible score stuffed with inventive, catches tunes, played by a nine piece band that through some theatrical trickery I honestly don’t understand sounds like the large orchestras of Broadway’s golden age.  There are so many jokes, both obvious and subtle, that it’s impossible to catch them all the first time through.  At least once during the show, you will be genuinely shocked and/or offended by what’s happening onstage (even hardcore South Park fans cannot anticipate some of the things Parker and Stone have gotten away with).  And most gloriously of all, the show has heart.  I doubt anyone thought the words “sweet” and “endearing” would be applied to a show written by this pair, and yet those words perfectly capture the overriding spirit of a show that is ultimately a celebration of both old-school Broadway and the healing power of religious faith (although Mormonism certain gets lovingly lambasted more than once).

And creating this atmosphere of giddy farce is one of the hardest working, most talented casts to ever grace a Broadway stage.  From top to bottom, the cast is filled with true triple threats who manage to stand out without ever upstaging their fellow castmates.  Foremost among this talented bunch are Tony-nominated stars Andrew Rannells and Josh Gad, both giving career-making performances as Elders Price and Cunningham.  It’s nearly impossible to decide who is funnier, although my personal vote goes to Rannells, who’s hilariously narcissistic Elder Price is a comic goldmine who doesn’t have the benefit of the kind of mugging allowed by the broadly written Cunningham.  They are so evenly matched that they likely split Tony votes enough to allow Norbert Leo Butz to walk off with this year’s Best Actor statuette. 

Also Tony-nominated without winning is Rory O’Malley, who brings down the house nightly with his performance of “Turn It Off.”  Without spoiling things for those who haven’t seen it, the number contains what is my favorite moment of the entire year (it involves vests).  It’s in essence an expertly executed sight gag (I still have no idea how they did it), and is the perfect illustration of why The Book of Mormon is so brilliant.  The show milks all of the expected humor out of a situation, and just when you think it’s out of ideas it comes up with one final, unexpected capper that thrills you with its ingenuity and leaves you rolling in the aisle.  I audibly gasped in delight when it happened, and being able to provide that kind of sheer, unadulterated joy is an example of musical comedy at its absolute best.

The one performer who did manage to win a Tony for her efforts is the absolutely radiant Nikki M. James.  Her Nabalungi is instantly lovable, a perfect Disney princess trapped in this warped version of the Third World.  She sings like an angel and grounds the evening with a genuine heart, especially evident during her earnest performance of the show’s big ballad, “Sal Tlay Ka Siti.”  Yet she is also capable of comic genius, and can play dirty just like the boys (her first appearance onstage is during a particularly offensive song about God).

I could go on and on about this show.  The direction is perfect, and Casey Nicholaw has graduated to the top tier of Broadway directors for his work on this show.  He expertly crafts the evening to yield the greatest possible number of laughs, while ensure that the show’s heart and message never get lost in the background or buried under too much shtick.  He has given the show a parade of ingeniously realized musical numbers, and keeps its madcap energy from flagging all the way through the final curtain.  The lighting, sets, and costumes are all phenomenal, supporting the story and setting without ever overshadowing it or becoming complex for spectacle’s sake.

I adore this show.  It may quite possibly be my favorite of all time, and that is not a title I hand out lightly.  It is easily the Best Show of 2011, and while tickets are hard to come by, they are definitely worth seeking out.  To paraphrase the opening number’s lyrics, this show could change your life.