They've Got a Diverse Beat, and It's Mighty Catchy

Review: Head Over Heels

Bonnie Milligan and the cast of Head Over Heels.

On paper, Head Over Heels sounds like a recipe for disaster. A jukebox musical using the music of 80s new wave band The Go-Go's to adapt an obscure 17th century play called The Arcadia, it doesn't sound like the sort of thing Broadway is clamoring for. And yet through some kind of bizarre theatrical alchemy, these seemingly disparate parts coalesce into a show that isn't just a campy good time, but also one of the most refreshingly progressive shows on Broadway.

Set in the land of Arcadia, Head Over Heels opens with the kingdom's residents singing about how their mystical Beat is responsible for their continued prosperity and happiness (a conceit obviously designed to allow the show to open with one of The Go-Go's most recognizable hits, "We've Got the Beat"). All seems well and good until the land's new oracle Pythio predicts the impending loss of said Beat should four cryptic prophecies come to pass, most relating to the romantic couplings of the royal family. When the impetuous King Basilius decides to pack up the court - including his wife Gynecia and daughters Pamela and Philoclea - and go on the move in an attempt to prevent the prophecies coming true, a series of shenanigans and comic mistakes follows (many spurred by that old standby of 17th century comedy, cross dressing).

Pretty standard stuff for a pastoral comedy, made fresh thanks to some wonderfully inclusive story decisions and casting. Elder princess Pamela (newcomer Bonnie Milligan in a breakout performance) is universally acknowledged to be prettier and more desirable than her "plain" sister Philoclea (a winsome Alexandra Socha). Now it just so happens that Pamela is the more full-figured of the two, but never is her size the butt of a joke or played for laughs, nor does the tone of the show indicate that anyone is the slightest bit delusional for finding the big girl more attractive. Milligan, with her razor sharp comic timing and powerhouse voice, is a prime example of the kind of magic that can happen when casting directors are open to performers of all body types in all kinds of roles.

Another inclusive storytelling decision is the fact that Pythio is a gender nonbinary oracle who prefers to be addressed using they/them pronouns. Again, this is not something the show goes out of its way to comment upon or play for laughs, it is merely a fact everyone just rolls, including the use of their preferred pronouns. The role is played quite well by Peppermint of RuPaul's Drag Race fame, the first openly transgender woman to originate a role on Broadway. It is a boundary breaking act of representation made all the more powerful by treating it as no big deal, the way it should be in an ideal world.

Other progressive plot points include a lesbian romance (which prompts a visit to the Isle of Lesbos and a delightfully cheeky rendition of "Vacation"), a shepherd who starts cross dressing to get closer to his beloved princess and later discovers he kind of likes his drag persona, and a general acceptance of the idea that women are just as fit for rule as men, if not more so. It all combines to create one of the most queer-friendly shows to ever get a commercial Broadway run, an achievement to be celebrated and hopefully repeated in the future.

The performances are solid from top to bottom. While Milligan ultimately steals the show, she is given a run for her money by the equally hilarious Andrew Durand as the cross dressing shepherd Musidorus. Rachel York and Jeremy Kushnier do excellent work in the occasionally underwritten roles of the king and queen, with their firmly tongue-in-cheek rendition of "Heaven is a Place on Earth" an Act II highlight. Taylor Iman Jones provides some heart and a lot of vocal pyrotechnics as Pamela's handmaiden Mopsa, and Tom Alan Robbins understands exactly what's needed to make the role of the king's comical viceroy pop.

As the ringleaders of this delightfully campy circus, director Michael Mayer and choreographer Spencer Liff expertly juggle a lot of narrative and tonal balls to keep things moving along at a breezy pace. It helps that the book, adapted by James Magruder from Jeff Whitty's out of town libretto and concept, does a better job grafting The Go-Go's songs onto the narrative than it has any right to. And those numbers that are awkwardly shoehorned into the narrative are so enjoyable to watch thanks to Liff's high energy choreography and the Go-Go's catchy musical hooks that you'll hardly begrudge the show an occasional clunky segue.

There are certainly those who will find Head Over Heels to be too lowbrow for its own good, although those people would be willfully ignoring how bold a statement the show is making by putting underrepresented groups at the center of its narrative with such little fanfare. In a way, the fact that Head Over Heels is largely fluff and camp (and very entertaining fluff and camp at that) amplifies the power of its inclusion by positing a world in which everyone is just accepted as they are, without fanfare or grand proclamations of the value of diversity. For those who yearn for a more inclusive theatre, Head Over Heels is not only an opportunity to put their money where their mouth is, but also a campy night out in a world that could certainly stand an infusion of fun and fabulousness.

The Boy Who Lived, Now Thriving on Broadway

Review: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

The cast of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

There is genuine magic occurring onstage at the Lyric Theatre, the freshly remodeled home to Broadway's latest box office juggernaut Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. And no, I'm not just referring to the play's myriad special effects, though rest assured the two part epic includes some of the most dazzlingly inventive magic tricks to ever grace the Great White Way. By using the time honored building blocks of plot, character, and interpersonal relationship, this continuation of the beloved book series conjures the kind of magic only possible through a shared experience, resulting in a mesmerizing production presented in a scale rarely if ever attempted in the theatre.

Before the show even begins, the sense of being transported to another place is palpable. The Lyric Theatre has undergone a multi-million dollar renovation in anticipation of its new tenant, a revitalization which elevates the space to a level of elegance and luxury unrivaled by any performance hall in town. There are lovingly crafted nods to author JK Rowling's fantasy world everywhere, from the Hogwarts insignia on the plush carpet to the phoenix-shaped wall sconces to the glorious library/study motif used at the bars and merchandise stands. Yes, the space's transformation is so complete that you actually feel privileged go hand over more of your hard earned cash for a souvenir (wands are predictably popular, though I opted for a snazzy magnet and beautiful souvenir program). By the time you take your seat in an auditorium that is much more intimate than its 1,622 person capacity would imply, you truly feel like you're in King's Cross Station waiting to board the Hogwarts Express, thanks in no small part to the subtle visual cues provided by the theatre's ornate ceiling and walls.

The story begins 19 years after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and is the officially sanctioned 8th installment of the Harry Potter saga (Rowling shares a "Story By" credit with director John Tiffany and the script's writer, Jack Thorne). Harry's youngest son, Albus Potter, is leaving for his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, and on the train ride there befriends Scorpius Malfoy, the son of Harry's old school rival Draco. Beyond that basic setup, you will get no plot hints from me; the cast and creatives have made it very clear they'd like audiences to #KeepTheSecrets, and going in unspoiled is truly the best way to experience the story's many twists and turns. That said, prior knowledge of Harry's world and the series' main plot points is certainly helpful, as Cursed Child is very much a sequel that builds upon seven novels' worth of Rowling's richly detailed setting and characters.

What can be said without giving too much away is that Thorne's script is excellent, both as a continuation of Rowling's narrative and as a piece of character driven drama. All the returning players feel at once familiar and different, believable aged two decades while retaining their core personality traits. The new characters seamlessly integrate into the Wizarding World, brimming with interesting and well defined complexities and quirks. Just as Rowling's novels ground their fantastical adventures with exploration of real world issues like grief and loss, Cursed Child also has plenty to teach us Muggles about how we navigate the real world. A central issue of the story is Harry and Albus' strained relationship, neither quite sure how to interact with the other as the former struggles with the great unknown of parenting while the later deals with the emotional minefield of adolescence. Albus and Scorpius share a deep bond and friendship, but like so many young men they are often uncomfortable and unsure of how to best express it. That Thorne can provide these kinds of smartly observed relationships amidst an expertly plotted and paced mystery yarn is a testament to his skill as a writer, and cuts to the core of why this series has remained so enduringly popular over the last 20 years.

The cast is uniformly excellent, although Cursed Child presents the unusual problem (for a play, at any rate) where revealing who some of the actors play could be considered a spoiler. But the appearance of Harry Potter is a given, and he is embodied by an exceptional Jamie Parker. In a pitch perfect performance that accomplishes the seemingly impossible, Parker is instantly recognizable as Harry, in manner as much as appearance (you won't make out the famed lightning scar from the back of the house). He not only imbues his world famous character with a fully realized depth and honesty, but does much of the drama's emotional heavy lifting in a way that will touch your heart whether you're new to the whole Potter phenomenon or have loved this character since you were a child.

Parker also shares an easygoing familiarity with Paul Thornley and Noma Dumezweni as Harry's best friends Ron and Hermione, a chemistry no doubt helped by their years' long journey with Cursed Child (the three actors all originated their roles in the West End premiere, to deserved acclaim). Thornley and Dumezweni are equally adept at walking the line between honoring their literary inspirations and making the roles their own, especially the commanding yet playful Dumezweni. The pair communicate volumes even when not speaking, and the only conceivable complaint about either performance is that you wish there was even more of it.

Others reprising their performances from the London mounting include Sam Clemmett and Anthony Boyle as Albus and Scorpius respectively. Their friendship is as central to the plot as Harry and Albus' father/son dynamic, and the young actors are expertly attuned to one another. Clemmett has the more demanding but less showy role as the somewhat sullen Albus, struggling to emerge from his famous father's shadow and establish his own identity. The play's true protagonist, Clemmett makes Albus easy to root for even when he's making the kind of questionable decisions all teen boys make. Boyle is delightfully idiosyncratic as Scorpius, a reliable source of comedic relief in a play which doesn't shy away from the darker implications of its narrative. Yet he is also capable of great pathos when necessary, and is the perfect compliment to Clemmett. Rounding out the group of transatlantic transfers are Poppy Miller and Alex Price as Ginny Potter and Draco Malfoy, both fantastic and in full command of their characters' respective arcs. They are joined by over 30 American actors in roles of all sizes, and while revealing who plays what will definitely spoil the fun suffice it to say they are all wonderful.

I have purposely held off on discussing the technical aspects of the production to emphasize that Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is great, satisfying theatre and not just empty spectacle. That said, the spectacle on display is several orders beyond anything else currently on Broadway. There are multiple jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring how'd-they-do-that moments that will take your breath away and fill you with childlike glee. The squeals of delight you hear from the audience are as likely to emanate from a gobsmacked adult as an enthralled child, for even if you figure out how an effect is achieved you still can't help but marvel at how seamless and artistic it looks. Jamie Harrison and Jeremy Chernick are credited with designing the illusions and special effects, and they have gifted us with feats unlike any Broadway has ever seen. The endlessly surprising sets (Christine Jones), beautifully detailed costumes (Katrina Lindsay), absolutely outstanding lights (Neil Austin), and immersive sound (Gareth Fry) all aid immeasurably in selling these many magical moments.

Playwright Thorne and director John Tiffany have wisely scattered these elements throughout the production. They save the biggest moments for the act breaks, which end on feats so ambitious and impressive that you will likely be too stunned to move when the house lights come up. (While tickets are rightfully scarce, if you can finagle a spot in the front mezzanine you are in for a truly mind-blowing sight at the end of Part 1.) As director and ringmaster, Tiffany deserves an extraordinary amount of credit for his ability to effectively corral the many moving parts into a beautifully paced evening that finds equal awe in the huge spectacle and more introspective moments. In the hands of Tiffany and his designers, the small effects are just as entrancing as the stage-filling showstoppers. By the time you add Imogen Heap's expansive underscoring, Cursed Child easily rivals the feeling of scale in the biggest Hollywood blockbuster.

Simply put, there is nothing on Broadway like Harry Potter and the Cursed Child; one could argue that there has *never* been anything like it. It is something that must be seen to be believed, a theatrical masterwork whose narrative combines both new and existing characters in a myriad of interesting, surprising ways. The cast is uniformly excellent, the technical elements the best in the business, and the direction and writing are just top notch. It is no mere play, but an experience that you will treasure long after it ends, something that works on multiple levels and can be equally enjoyed by young and old alike. Utterly deserving of every award and accolade it has received, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is a once in a lifetime event that is the definition of must see theatre.

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.

By George, They've Got It!

Review: My Fair Lady

Harry Hadden-Paton, Lauren Ambrose, and Allan Corduner in Lincoln Center's lavish My Fair Lady.

Lerner and Loewe's My Fair Lady has quite the conflicting reputation. On one hand, this musical adaptation of George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion is almost universally agreed to be an expertly constructed Golden Age book musical, overflowing with Loewe's beautiful music and possessing an exceedingly sharp, emotionally complex book by Lerner. But with each passing year, more and more people have rightly expressed discomfort with the way the show treats its protagonist Eliza Doolittle, who many feel is made over against her will to suit the ideals of misogynistic language professor Henry Higgins. Is it even possible to stage the show in a way that honors its original intent without alienating modern audiences who are increasingly aware of the mistreatment women have endured throughout history?

The answer is a resounding "yes" thanks to the brilliant direction of Bartlett Sher, who seemingly specializes in mounting supposedly dated classics to feel as timely and relevant as the day they first premiered (see his Tony-winning revivals of South Pacific and The King & I, also for Lincoln Center). Sher has largely solved My Fair Lady's perceived problems with an approach so straightforward it feels revolutionary: he has ignored the way the show is "traditionally" performed and refocused on the text, revealing it to be much more thoughtful and equitable than originally thought. The often thrilling, always fascinating result is a triumphant production that firmly refocuses the show on Eliza and makes her a much more active participant in her own narrative without changing a single line of dialogue.

The script has always had Eliza show up at Higgins' residence asking for elocution lessons, but Sher's production is one of the first to fully emphasize that she chooses to do so without being forced. Higgins has always explicitly stated the difficulty in what Eliza is attempting, and praised her for the speed at which she picks it up, but for the first time it all feels like genuine praise rather than insincere small talk. Eliza has always called Higgins on his appalling behavior, but this is the first time it hasn't felt like she's taken her critique back by the end of the show. The only thing one can argue Sher actually changed is the show's final tableau, but again, he hasn't changed a word, and his version of the ending feels much truer to the spirit of the piece than what has traditionally been done.

To achieve such a subtle but substantial reinterpretation of the text, Sher needed actors of the highest caliber, and he has found them in this top notch cast. Lauren Ambrose provides perhaps the best acted version of Eliza to date, up to and including Audrey Hepburn's beloved performance in the film. Ambrose sparkles with intelligence and strength from the very beginning, making it clear Eliza's cockney accent by no means indicates stupidity. Her expressive face and eyes radiate warmth while conveying volumes about her complex inner life, making it difficult to take your eyes off her. Whether Ambrose is relishing the small victories Eliza finds during her arduous dictation lessons, reevaluating and adjusting her behavior during her hysterical public debut as a lady, or visibly rallying herself prior to the embassy ball, she will have you utterly captivated. It is a testament to Ambrose's sheer magnetism that even when Higgins and his servants are gallivanting about the stage during "You Did It," the audience's eyes remain fixed on Eliza in the corner, as Ambrose charts her growing disgust with her situation.

Vocally, Ambrose is not as assured a singer as someone like Julie Andrews (Broadway's original Eliza) or Marni Nixon (who dubbed Hepburn's vocals in the film). She has some lovely moments and never comes close to sounding outright bad, rather just suffers a *tad* in comparison to some of the most accomplished sopranos in musical theatre history. And Ambrose's acting is so sensational that its difficult to hold any perceived vocal shortcomings against her, as its hard to imagine a more trained singer acting the role better. Ambrose's performance is that good.

Ambrose is excellently matched by Harry Hadden-Paton making an absolutely thrilling Broadway debut in a role virtually synonymous with Rex Harrison (who won both the Tony and the Oscar for his Higgins). It must be noted that casting Higgins as closer in age to Eliza goes a long way towards putting the characters on more equal footing, but the rest of the gap is closed by Hadden-Paton as perhaps the most compassionate Higgins in history. That's not to say the tart tongued linguist has lost any of his bite; Hadden-Paton can unleash a stream of insults with the best of them, with a natural charisma and intelligence that will have you laughing so hard you almost forget how thoroughly he's eviscerated his target. But this Higgins actually does care for Eliza, and Hadden-Paton makes it clear that for all his bluster he is genuinely horrified by the idea that he may have unknowingly mistreated her. You won't necessarily like this Higgins, but you will have far more understanding of him and his childish outbursts than you've likely ever had, all thanks to Hadden-Paton's excellent scene work.

The supporting cast is every bit as enchanting as the leads. Allan Corduner is outstanding as Colonel Pickering, an excellent foil for Hadden-Paton and a fascinating actor in his own right. Dame Diana Rigg makes the most of her relatively small role as Mrs. Higgins (Henry's mother), effortlessly cutting her misbehaving son down to size with little more than a look and a quick word. Jordan Donica offers up a beautiful sung, endearingly goofy Freddy, forever smitten with Eliza and waiting for her "On the Street Where You Live." And two-time Tony-winner Norbert Leo Butz takes the primarily comic role of Alfred P. Doolittle, Eliza's father, and turns him into one of the most fully realized humans in the entire piece. The fact that he also leads the sensational chorus of 25 in a showstopping rendition of "Get Me to the Church on Time" is just an added bonus.

At this point, it is practically a given that Lincoln Center's revivals of these Golden Age classics will be visually sumptuous affairs, and My Fair Lady continues that proud tradition. Catherine Zuber's costumes continually astound, especially her lavender-tinted finery for the "Ascot Gavotte" and her breathtaking version of Eliza's iconic hat. Michael Yeargan's scenic design for Higgins' study is impressively grand on its own, but when the house begins to revolve and expose the residence's other rooms you may just let out a gasp of delight. Everything is beautifully lit by Donald Holder, and Marc Salzberg's sound design ensures you can hear every wonderful note of the score played by the massive orchestra under the baton of Ted Sperling. Describing the physical production as lavish almost feels like an understatement.

In the end, you'd be hard pressed to find much to fault in this production of My Fair Lady. Impeccably acted and gorgeously staged, it feels as fresh and relevant as the day the show first premiered, if not more so. Higgins is still undeniably a misogynist, but he no longer has tyrannical control over Eliza, and she has far more agency in her own story than one might expect. Popular opinion will ultimately decide if the show is too unsavory for modern audiences, but Sher and company have made a compelling argument for this classic to maintain its status as one of the crown jewels of the musical theatre cannon. Its examination of class and gender politics has plenty to teach us even today, all while entertaining us with one of the most glorious scores of the Golden Age.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Julie Jordan?

Review: Carousel

Jessie Mueller and Joshua Henry as Julie Jordan and Billy Bigelow in Carousel.

It is said that of all Richard Rodger's collaborations with Oscar Hammerstein, Carousel contained the composer's favorite score. The classic musical certainly has an abundance of soaring melodies, and it greatly develops the now ubiquitous concept of the extended musical scene, something that didn't really exist prior to the famed duo's groundbreaking work. And while the show certainly has artistic and historical merit, the extremely well done revival now on Broadway also fully unmasks the inherent problems in the script, the most glaring of which is the domestic violence issue embedded in the central romance.

*Note: If you aren't familiar with Carousel - I'd never seen it prior to this production - there are spoilers coming. There's no way to discuss the show in the context of 2018 without getting into them.*

There's no way around it: Carousel as written is inherently problematic. Carnival barker Billy Bigelow falls in love with and marries a young mill worker named Julie Jordan, who abandons her job just to get the chance to know Billy better (the mill Julie works at insists their workers maintain a "good girl" image which doesn't allow for late night talks with strange men). Then, in a scene we never see, Billy hits Julie; the town characterizes it as continual abuse, although Billy insists that it was just one time. But the frequency of the abuse doesn't really matter, because either way Julie insists there's nothing wrong with it despite the protestations of literally everyone she knows.

Note Julie never *denies* being hit. She claims people don't know Billy like she does, and that she understands why he hit her. But Julie - and by extension, Rodgers and Hammerstein - never verbalizes those reasons to the other characters or to the audience. In fact, her second act solo "What's the Use of Wond'rin," the song specifically designed to address this concern, essentially boils down to Julie saying she loves him, so what else can she do but accept the situation? And late in the show, when a now dead Billy is asked by a heavenly character called The Starkeeper if he regrets hitting Julie, Billy defiantly responds, "I regret nothing."

Now, obviously Carousel was written during a different time that had different attitudes about what was and wasn't acceptable behavior in a marriage. So while it is disappointing that the fairly progressive Rodgers and Hammerstein - who wrote the anti-racism creed "You Have to Be Carefully Taught" for South Pacific and centered The King & I around a strong, capable female protagonist - created such a problematic portrayal of the abused-but-we-don't-know-how-much Julie, it isn't entirely surprising.

What is surprising is that Tony-winner Jessie Mueller, who can pack a wealth of conflicting emotions into the space between her lines, isn't able to find some way to give more insight or depth to Julie and help us better understand her actions. Given that her last Broadway outing Waitress focused on a character in a similar situation, but with much more complexity and agency, it is downright baffling that Mueller chose this as her immediate follow-up.

Perhaps this disconnect explains why Mueller, normally a firebrand who you cannot take your eyes off of, feels oddly subdued throughout. She sings the role beautifully - is there nothing her mercurial voice cannot do? - and acts it as well as anyone can be expected to, which leaves no choice but to conclude the problem is with the material and not the performer. Put bluntly, Julie just isn't a very compelling character, especially contrasted with the other women in the show.

Julie's best friend Carrie Pipperidge manages to do what society expects of her in a way that makes it clear she's making a choice and not just resigned to whatever comes her way, and she is the first to express concern about Julie's home life. Lindsey Mendez is a delight in the role, beautifully adapting her vocal pyrotechnics to the more legit stylings of Carousel's score and landing the evening's biggest laughs. And opera superstar Renee Fleming is a revelation as the matronly Nettie Fowler; her rendition of the show's big anthem "You'll Never Walk Alone" is a masterclass in dramatic song interpretation, musically impeccable while still feeling spontaneous and unforced.

And despite the problems with his character, it's undeniable that two-time Tony-nominee Joshua Henry has never been better than as carnival barker Billy Bigelow. His natural charisma makes it easy to see why Julie or anyone else would be drawn to him, and his performance makes it clear that his gruff exterior is masking a deep seated inner pain and self loathing. He also sings like a dream, making a famously taxing role seem easy and imbuing every song with a freshness that makes the show's well worn ballads sound new. His "Soliloquy," the seven minute monologue in song that ends the first act, is positively thrilling, his rendition easily among the best there's ever been. Henry's performance is the stuff Tony wins are made of, and a strong argument for the merits of color conscious casting. (The production never overtly references Henry's race, but it subtly informs his interactions.)

Director Jack O'Brien's thoughtful staging and direction is exactly what you hope for when one of these Golden Age musicals is revived. The show feels fresh and alive, almost like new, honoring the material without ever holding it so sacred that it feels like a museum piece. O'Brien wisely avoids any impulse to dress the material up with modern bells and whistles, letting the actors and musicians carry the day. The producers have also wisely employed NY City Ballet choreographer-in-residence Justin Peck to handle the musical's abundant dance numbers, including the patented Rodgers and Hammerstein dream ballet in the second act. Peck's choreography has a complexity and artistic maturity rarely seen on the Broadway stage, and is danced to perfection by the nimble men and women of the ensemble (who also sound fantastic during the group choral numbers).

From a physical standpoint, this Carousel is often breathtaking thanks to the lavish yet unfussy design work. Ann Roth's costumes have an attention to detail and carefully considered color palette that make them look like a million bucks, even though they are largely everyday casual wear. Santo Loquasto's stunning set wonderfully evokes a sleepy seaside town, with his stellar backdrops and multilayered sets giving the production an astonishing amount of visual depth. His take on the titular carousel is particularly striking, an image that will stay with you long after the final curtain falls. Both sets and costumes are gorgeously lit by Brian MacDevitt, whose sophisticated work greatly helps in the evocation of the story's many different moods.

All of the talent and care that has gone into this Carousel makes the show's dubious worldview that much more upsetting. These are clearly smart artists who are doing their absolute best to do justice to this show, but they have not been able to solve the central conundrum of getting us to understand and empathize with such a problematic relationship. The lead female role is basically a doormat, accepting and excusing any negative behavior that comes her way in the name of love, and putting that kind of message into the world in 2018 seems questionable at best. Rather than "fixing" Carousel for future generations, this production may have killed it once and for all by exposing it as inexorably linked to a bygone and now unacceptable social attitude. If O'Brien and company aren't able to satisfactorily address Carousel's problems, then who can?

Here He Is Boys, Here He Is World

Hello hello hello! As you may have noticed, I've been on a bit of a hiatus lately. This was not a conscious choice, something that just happened as life got busier (I'm engaged now!). Also, if I'm being 100% honest, the current Broadway season hasn't been particularly inspiring to me. It's not that the shows have been bad - some were lovely - but for whatever reason I haven't felt compelled to write about them.

Anyway, for the time being at least, I'm back. I don't promise new posts with anything resembling regularity, and it's highly possible that I fall behind again. But a couple of people have expressed interest in hearing my thoughts on the current Broadway season, which is both encouraging and humbling, and if interest continues then I will do my best to keep things somewhat current.

Since I haven't been posting about this current season, I am obviously behind when it comes to reviews. There's no way I'll have the time to go back and write reviews for productions I saw months ago, so below I've compiled my brief thoughts about the Broadway shows I've seen since my last blog post.

The Play That Goes Wrong

An hysterically funny farce by Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer, and Henry Shields, The Play That Goes Wrong has understandably been compared to the pinnacle of the genre, Noises Off. And while it isn't quite as airtight as that masterwork, this tale of the Cornley University Drama Society trying and failing to perform a murder mystery is comedy gold. Anything that can go wrong does, including missed cues, actor injuries, and a set that is literally falling apart at the seams (for which designer Nigel Hook rightly took home a 2017 Tony Award). I saw the show's now departed original cast, who all nailed the specific mix of desperation and naivety which would allow a group of amateur actors to keep going in the face of missed cues, concussions, and multiple mid-show cast replacements. And I have rarely seen slapstick executed with such effortless precision, recalling the screwball comedy of a Three Stooges short. I'm sure the current cast is just as delightful, and I'd highly recommend The Play That Goes Wrong for anyone in search of a laugh.

Once On This Island

Full confession: Once On This Island was the first show I ever performed in, and I would not have my love of theatre if not for that experience, which is a roundabout way of saying I'm a bit biased here. That said, director Michael Arden's stellar revival of Ahrens and Flaherty's very first Broadway musical does not disappoint. It thrillingly embraces everything that makes live theatre magical, presenting a gorgeously realized island fairy tale through the use of found objects and consistently excellent staging. (Arden is given a major assist by set designer Dane Laffrey and lighting designers Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer.) The performances are uniformly excellent, particularly Hailey Kilgore in her Broadway debut as leading lady Ti Moune, and Alex Newell's roof-raising performance as Asaka that culminates in a showstopping rendition of "Mama Will Provide." And a special shout out to the entire creative team for their willingness to think outside the box when it comes to casting the show's four gods, breaking racial and gender norms to find the absolute best collection of actors for those roles. The best thing I've seen so far this season.

The Band's Visit

The highbrow hit of the fall, I have to admit The Band's Visit left me cold. A slice of life drama following an Egyptian band who winds up stranded in a small Israeli town for one evening due to a scheduling error, I knew ahead of time it would be more of a character study than a plot-driven show and I still couldn't bring myself to care. The performances are all fine, including Katrina Lenk's much heralded performance as the female lead (although I would rate her as solidly "good" rather than "great"). And at 90 intermissionless minutes, it certainly doesn't have the bloat of some Broadway shows. But beyond David Yazbeck's beautifully ethereal score, I think people are mistaking novelty for quality with this one. It's really more of a play with music than a musical, and not a particularly groundbreaking play at that.

SpongeBob SquarePants

The surprise of the season. Despite its very corporate origins, SpongeBob SquarePants is one of the more inventive, whimsical, and just plain fun shows to arrive on Broadway in the past few years. As someone with only a peripheral knowledge of the TV show, I was still thoroughly amused by the denizens of Bikini Bottom and their zany antics. Book writer Kyle Jarrow capitalizes on the cartoon's particular charms, which gleefully insist you take whatever surreal flight of fancy the creators throw at you in stride, be it a megalomaniac plankton married to a literal computer or a Texan squirrel who lives underwater. David Zinn's costume and scenic designs reference the cartoon without literally recreating it, using found objects and simple stylistic choices to create the show's world. And director Tina Landua has coached her first rate cast to delightfully realized, lived in performances that honor their cartoon counterparts without feeling like slavish impersonations. Ethan Slater is perfectly cast as the titular sea sponge, and there are especially delightful scene stealing turns from Gavin Lee as a tap-dancing Squidward J. Tentacles and Wesley Taylor as the diabolical Sheldon Plankton. Mark my words, this will be a "surprise" Best Musical nominee come Tony time.

Frozen

Anna, Elsa, and the denizens of Arendelle have arrived on Broadway in Disney's big budget stage adaptation of their record setting animated smash hit. And while money clearly prompted the show's creation, I'm happy to report it's a fairly solid adaptation. The stage version adds plenty of new material without the disjointed feeling that sometimes plagues Disney musicals, probably due to Broadway's Frozen having the exact same creative team as the movie. The costumes and sets by Christopher Oram are gorgeous, with all of it beautifully lit by Natasha Katz. The performances are uniformly solid, with particularly standout work from Patti Murin as Anna; she manages to be at turns quirky, endearing, earnest, and even genuinely moving, all while singing like a dream and displaying excellent chemistry with her various costars. Cassie Levy nails all of Elsa's big numbers (the self-exiled queen gets several more Wicked-esque solos onstage), although she doesn't pop as much as Murin due to spending a good chunk of the show alone in her ice palace with no one to talk to. I will say Michael Grandage's staging is not particularly inspired, and the show could stand a few more "wow" moments when it comes to the special effects, which occasionally cross the line from "simple" into "cheap looking." But there are far worse ways to spend a night in the theatre, and the core audience of young girls will eat it up.

Mean Girls (DC Tryout)

I have not seen the Broadway production of Mean Girls, but I *did* make my way down to Washington DC for the show's out of town tryout last fall and found it to be sooo fetch. Tina Fey has adapted her now-classic teen comedy for the stage in a way that honors everything you love about the endlessly quotable film while also adding enough new material and modern updates to keep things fresh (the Plastics have cell phones and social media now). Fey's book is laugh out loud funny, both the lines you know  by heart and the abundance of new jokes and references. The high energy cast is a uniform treat, particularly Taylor Louderman, Ashley Park, and Kate Rockwell as the titular mean girls Regina, Gretchen, and Karen (Rockwell deserves a Tony nod for her especially riotous work). Casey Nicholaw has staged the show with his usual sleek production value, and if the songs by Jeff Richmond and Nell Benjamin aren't the most memorable they definitely keep things moving. My biggest criticism out of town was that the show sometimes felt a bit manic, but I had a similar reaction upon first seeing Legally Blonde, a show I now find quite delightful. My current pick for Best Musical of the year.


If you have more specific questions about any of the above, let me know in the comments! And please share this blog with friends or family you think would enjoy it!

Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Casting Controversy of 2017

Okieriete "Oak" Onaodowan as Pierre in Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812.

What a mess. That's about the only way to describe the brouhaha that has arisen over what initially seemed like a fairly innocuous piece of replacement casting for the Tony-nominated production of Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. For those who may have missed it, on Wednesday the producers of Dave Malloy's musical fantasia announced that Mandy Patinkin would step into the role of Pierre for a limited 3 week engagement starting August 15th. It was quite a get for the production, as the beloved Tony-winner hasn't been seen on Broadway since his concert evening with Patti LuPone in 2011, and hasn't tackled a role in a musical since originating Burrs in Michael John LaChiusa's The Wild Party all the way back in 2000.

But shortly thereafter, a vocal segment of Twitter cried foul, as Patinkin's surprise Broadway return meant that the production's current Pierre, Okieriete "Oak" Onaodowan, would be cutting his run in the role short barely a month after taking over for original leading man Josh Groban. Many questioned if there was a racial motivation behind asking a black actor to step aside for a white performer, and Onaodowan for his part made it clear that he was turning down the producers' invitation to return to the show after Patinkin finished his run. Although nothing was explicitly said, one gets the impression there's some bad blood between Onaodowan and the producers over the way this was handled, and that Onaodowan's departure wasn't the mutual agreement it was made out to be in the initial press release. The famously principled Patinkin subsequently withdrew from the production on Friday, stating that he would never knowingly take a job that would harm another actor.

Now, a couple of clarifications. I don't think Onaodowan is out of line to be a bit perturbed by the way this was handled, and I admire Patinkin's integrity in withdrawing from the show as a public rebuke to the producers. But the cries of this casting being in any way racially motivated strike me as bullshit, and I think those arguing otherwise are doing a huge disservice to the important and necessary conversation around diversity in the theatre. 

Let's not forget that the producers of The Great Comet have gone out of their way to cast ethnically diverse actors from day one (they've even won awards for it). The lead role of Natasha has been very pointedly *not* white from the start, being originated by Chinese-American actress Phillipa Soo Off-Broadway before the beautifully dark-skinned Denee Benton took over for the show's Broadway transfer. The producers also had no problem casting Amber Grey to play the sister of the very Aryan Lucas Steele, and the ensemble is full wonderfully diverse performers that many casting directors would argue have no business being in a show set in 17th century Russia. These are all conscious choices that show the producers obviously care about representation; it makes no sense for them to suddenly decide ethnic performers can't lead their show.

What happened here is simply a case of needing a name to drive ticket sales. As composer Dave Malloy admitted on Twitter Friday, the show's advance sales have taken a nosedive since multiplatinum recording star Groban departed the show earlier this month. Well known singer-songwriter Ingrid Michaelson was brought in to play the key supporting role of Sonya the day after Groban left to help boost ticket sales, a move that seems to have worked in the short term. (It should be noted that Michaelson's casting resulting in another performer taking a leave of absence from the show and no one batted an eyelash.) Patinkin's scheduled start date the day after Michaelson's departure was an obvious attempt to keep the show running with ticket sales high.

It is a classic example of the problem with star casting, as shows built around a particular performer have difficulty sustaining interest once said performer leaves. (For an extreme example, the smash hit revival of Hello, Dolly! lost over $1 million in ticket sales when Bette Midler went on vacation earlier this month.) Great Comet was sold from day one as a Josh Groban vehicle, perhaps understandably so. Can anyone imagine the oddball, immersive show securing a prime theatre like the Imperial and running for months at near capacity without a big name to put butts in seats? The producers' gamble clearly worked. 

What they realized too late was that they had no idea how to sell the daring, somewhat divisive show without a star who has a huge, devoted fanbase willing to spend big bucks to see him or her. Patinkin's wide exposure thanks to roles on high profile television shows like Homeland and Criminal Minds - not to mention a beloved supporting turn in the movie The Princess Bride - gives him significantly box office draw than a talented but little known performer like Onaodowan. (Yes, Onaodowan was in Hamilton, but he didn't star in Hamilton, and the Pultizer Prize-winning musical's continued sold out status proves that for that production the show is the draw more than any individual actor.) A white actor with a similar resume would have found himself in the exact same position of being "asked" to step aside the moment Patinkin's schedule opened up.

And that is the reason why this mess still feels icky, despite the lack of racial motivation. Onaodowan was only scheduled to be with the show for 2 months to begin with, and he was unceremoniously dumped the second a bigger star came along. Further, the producers clearly fudged the truth when presenting the idea to Patinkin, making it appear as if Onaodowan had agreed to take a leave of absence rather than being forced out. What they didn't count on was the true story making its way to Patinkin, and the Tony winner changing his mind when he found out his new gig was forcibly taking a job from another actor who had already been promised a set number of performances.

So feel free to condemn the producers of Great Comet for this situation, but leave the accusations of racism out of it. It is dangerous to raise the specter of racism in a case where that clearly wasn't the intent. Crying wolf on a matter as important as the treatment of black performers will make it that much more difficult to get people to pay attention when true injustices occur. It will be easier to discount complaints about mistreatment as fabrications, and it could well discourage other productions from going after diverse casts if they feel it is a "no win" situation. We need to encourage and educate our allies, not dismiss them after one unintentional misstep. 

Period Costumes, Contemporary Issues, and Timeless Theatricality

Review: A Doll's House, Part 2

Jayne Houdyshell and Laurie Metcalf in A Doll's House, Part 2.

Do not let the somewhat intimidating title fool you. While A Doll's House, Part 2 is technically a sequel to Henrik Ibsen's groundbreaking 1879 drama, this razor sharp new play requires next to no knowledge of its predecessor. Nor is the play some stuffy period drama; this is a wholly contemporary work which combines both comedy and pathos in its blistering examination of the institution of marriage and a woman's place in a patriarchal society. They are the same themes Ibsen tackled in his original work over 100 years ago, and Broadway newcomer Lucas Hnath proves that there's still so much to say about them.

The setup is brilliantly simple. Nora Helmer returns home 15 years after she walked out on her husband Torvald, their kids, and their marriage at the end of A Doll's House, scandalizing much of 19th century society. But Torvald never actually filed for divorce after Nora left, and without his help ending their marriage she risks losing everything she's built for herself since. (The irony that the strong-willed and independently minded Nora needs a man's help to get what she wants doesn't escape anyone.)

Hnath's perfectly structured one act is divided into five scenes, sharply delineated by harsh lighting cues and yet seamlessly flowing into one another. In addition to Nora's point of view, we get major insight into how her leaving has affected Torvald, their daughter Emmy, and their housekeeper Anne Marie (who ended up raising the children in Nora's absence). A hyper-literate polemic, A Doll's House, Part 2 manages to expertly articulate each character's point of view so you find it difficult to disagree with any of them, even though they rarely agree on anything. It is also striking just how much the issues initially raised by Ibsen are still shockingly relevant today, particularly when it comes to the options that are and are not afforded to women.

What makes the play rise above mere intellectual discussion and become truly compelling drama are the carefully nuanced performances of the four person ensemble. Leading the charge is Laurie Metcalf in an absolutely sensational (now Tony-winning) performance as Nora, the fiercely independent woman at the center of everything. Matcalf's Nora barrels through the play like a bull in a china shop, a lifetime of frustration radiating off her in righteous anger. Her exasperation is palpable, as is her intelligence and determination.

Metcalf makes it abundantly clear that Nora was born in the wrong time, a strong and independent woman in a world that has little use for her. And while Nora makes no apologies for her decision to leave her family, Matcalf beautifully communicates just how much the decision cost her, especially during a heartbreaking monologue in which she describes what it's been like to be cut off from her children. The role allows Metcalf to showcase her full range as an actress, from the comedy chops that won her 3 consecutive Emmys on TV's Roseanne to the deeply felt emotion which has made her a favorite of the New York theatre scene.

Equally exciting work is provided by Metcalf's costars, Jayne Houdyshell and Condola Rashad. Houdyshell initially seems like comic relief as the somewhat bumbling, soft-spoken maid Anne Marie, but as the play progresses you discover she has been as shaken by Nora's decision as anyone. Anne Marie's geniality hides a deep seated resentment for the scandal Nora caused, and Houdyshell plays both sides of her character to the hilt. Rashad is thrilling as Nora's now grown daughter Emmy, who was so small when her mother left she barely remembers her. Her opinions on Nora's actions are perhaps the most surprising, and Rashad's shimmering intelligence and carefully measured line delivery make her consistently fascinating to watch.

If there is one weak link in the cast, it is Chris Cooper's understated portrayal of Torvald. The Oscar winner isn't so much bad as he is underwhelming, delivering a characterization that is clearly calibrated for film while the rest of the cast is giving overtly theatrical performances. One wishes director Sam Gold had been able to bring Cooper up to the level of his costars, but otherwise the evening is flawlessly directed. Gold's subdued staging, combined with the low key but well executed costumes and lights, allows the focus to remain where it should, on the excellent writing and acting.

A Doll's House, Part 2 manages to accomplish just about everything you could want during its lean, brutally effective 90 minute runtime. An intelligent drama that tackles big ideas, Hnath's script allows ample opportunity for both comedy and drama, which the gifted ensemble seizes upon and fully exploits. Who would have imagined that a play which on paper sounds like an overly pretentious writing exercise would turn out to be one of the freshest, most engaging new works of the year? Those with even the slightest interest should make it a point to see A Doll's House, Part 2; you are guaranteed to leave the Helmer household much more satisfied than Nora ever was.

A Lush Historical Fairy Tale

Review: Anastasia

Derek Klena as Dimitri and Christy Altomare as Anya in Anastasia.

As someone who has never seen the 1997 animated feature film Anastasia, I bring no preexisting expectations to the musical version currently playing the Broadhurst Theatre. Which is perhaps for the best, as the songwriting team of Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens have been very upfront about the massive amount of changes their work has undergone in the transition from screen to stage. Entire characters have been jettisoned (no villainous Rasputin and his anthropomorphic bat sidekick), many of the songs have been reordered and/or recontextualized, and the tone of the piece has been shifted towards something more complex than the typically black and white morality tale of a Disney-esque animated film.

Whether this "maturing" of the story amounts to actual and improvement is open for interpretation. There is no denying the Flaherty and Ahrens' score (which includes the Oscar-nominated "Journey to the Past," here relocated to the end of the first act) is a work of beauty, a grand collection of both old and new songs that have a sweeping melodic artistry. This beauty is occasionally betrayed by the relatively modest ensemble size, which doesn't always have the vocal heft the music seems to call for. This is no fault of the very talented performers, just a result of the economic reality that paying for dozens of chorus members is a luxury most shows cannot afford. 

And while Terrance McNally's book does a fine job of weaving the various songs together, the more adult tone invites a more critical look at the narrative than it can quite sustain. In telling the story of the lost heir to the last Russian czar, Anastasia attempts to milk a lot of drama from the question of whether the amnesiac Anya is actually the presumed dead title character. But a show called Anastasia with no Anastasia wouldn't make much sense, and the repeated flashbacks Anya has of her slain relatives leave little doubt she is in fact the missing Grand Duchess. (This narrative issue is successful solved in the second act, when the question becomes not "Is Anya Anastasia?" but "Will her grandmother, the Dowager Empress, recognize her?") It also feels odd that a show which puts so much effort into at least the semblance of historical accuracy leaves the issue of why the Russians killed Anastasia's family almost wholly unexplored.

Thankfully, the gorgeous physical production and fine collection of performances makes it easier to look past these logical issues. Alexander Dodge's physical set is perhaps a tad shallow, but it is brought to vivid life by Aaron Rhyne's stunning projections. Rhyne's work adds depth and detail to the show's many physical locations, finding stage equivalents to cinematic techniques like pans and dissolves which look like nothing else on Broadway. And Linda Cho's stunningly ornate costumes are showstoppers in and of themselves, glittering ensembles of saturated color that grant the entire affair an air of wonderfully grandiose fantasy. 

In the title role, Christy Altomare is excellent as a thoroughly modern Broadway heroine. Her utter commitment to the role brings a level of authenticity and dramatic stakes to the character that frankly isn't there in the writing, and even though it's obvious she's the missing Grand Duchess, Altomare's palpable doubt almost makes you question that assumption. And while her voice is quite lovely, the true secret to her success with Anya's many songs is her ability to convey every nuance contained within Ahrens' words and Flaherty's music. 

As Dimitri, a street hustler initially wanting to pass Anya off as Anastasia for the reward money, Derek Klena has a dashingly chiseled visage that looks as if it jumped out of an animated storybook. Dimitri begins the show as a bit of a jerk, but Klena slowly wins you over as his character becomes less interested in money and more invested in helping Anya realize her destiny. Klena also possesses a soaring tenor the score doesn't utilize right way, but really springs to the fore by the time of his rousing solo "My Petersburg" in the middle of the first act. And John Bolton is a delightfully endearing clown as Dimitri's partner in crime Vlad, whose past connections with the Russian royal family are key to helping our leads meet their goals.

As the Dowager Empress, Mary Beth Peil initially seems underused, with a brief appearance in the show's prologue her only stage time in Act I. But once the action moves to Paris, and convincing the Dowager Empress that Anya is her long lost granddaughter becomes the main plot, Peil comes alive, packing an enormous amount of emotional variety into her scenes (which happen to feature some of McNally's best writing). Watching the range of emotions that wash over Peil's face in the climatic scene, from bitter rage to stubborn disbelief to overwhelming joy, is one of the highlights of the evening.

There's a lot to like about Anastasia, especially if one can get past the fact that this stage adaptation uses the animated film as more of a jumping off point than an actual blueprint. The writing ranges from good to excellent, even if the direction by Tony winner Darko Tresnjak allows the show to drag more than it needs to. The upside of this sometimes slower pace is you have ample time to appreciate the opulence of the physical production, the lush melodies, and the winsome performances of the cast. It's refreshing to see a family show that is willing to trust in its audience's appreciation of stagecraft rather than beat them over the head with spectacle, even if a tad more flash would be appreciated.

A Small Show with a Big Heart

Review: Come From Away

Tony-nominee Jenn Colella (left) and the cast of Come From Away.

There are essentially two routes Broadway shows can go these days to justify their ever-growing price tags: elaborate spectacle that puts the money onstage, or theatrical craft so elevated its clearly the result of years of skill sharpening. Come From Away, the deeply moving and gloriously uplifting new musical now playing Broadway, thankfully opts for the latter, arriving in New York as a highly polished gem of a musical with the added bonus of not being based on any preexisting source material.

Written by Broadway newcomers Irene Sankoff and David Hein, Come From Away is inspired by the amazing true story of Gander, Newfoundland, which saw 38 planes and their accompanying 7000 passengers diverted to the small Canadian town when US airspace closed after the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001. And while this ensemble driven show doesn't shy away from the horrific aftereffects of that fateful day, it is also overflowing with inspiring stories of human kindness and mankind's capacity for love. The residents of Gander welcomed 7000 strangers into their homes without a moment's hesitation, feeding and clothing their multicultural visitors for 5 days until the planes were cleared to fly again. Yes, you will probably shed a few tears of sadness, but you will shed just as many at the sheer beauty of the simple human kindness on display.

What Sankoff and Hein manage to do so successfully is juxtapose moments of darkness with ones of hope. A particularly moving passage halfway through the intermissionless show illustrates how the many different faiths of the travelers allow them to cope with their grief, just after a Muslim traveler has been harassed during his midday prayers. The scenes seamlessly transition from spoken dialogue to the folk-influenced score and back again, balancing the specificity of the individual characters' journeys with the narrative's overarching themes. Sankoff and Hein have spent years honing the show prior to its New York debut, resulting in a work with nary a word out of place and a single story beat that feels forced or rushed. This is a musical that earns the emotions it elicits rather than manipulating them out of you.

The town of Gander is brought to life by an amazing ensemble of twelve actors, each playing multiple characters with little to distinguish them except changes in accent and some relatively minor costume pieces. So great is the entire cast's skill that not once during the show do you wonder who is playing who, even when they adopt a new persona onstage in front of your eyes. (Dialect coach Joel Goldes deserves special mention for guiding the cast to spot on Newfoundlander and multinational accents.)

While the entire cast is outstanding, Jenn Colella is particularly memorable as Beverley, the first female American Airlines captain and our window into the airlines' perspective on the entire ordeal (her rendition of "Me and the Sky" is a genuinely inspiring girl power anthem and one of the production's highlights). Sharon Wheatley and Lee MacDougall are adorable as a Texas divorcee and English businessman who find love amidst their awful circumstances, and Q. Smith is quietly heartbreaking as a mother waiting to hear from her first responder son. Although they are sometimes only given a line or two of dialogue to establish a character, each actor makes sure you know and care about everyone in the tale, to the point where you are genuinely curious about their fates after the final curtain.

Director Christopher Ashley is the assured captain of this streamlined ship, deftly guiding cast and audience through the show's many emotional highs and lows. With little more than some tables and chairs, Ashley takes us from a plane's cramped interior to a small town recreational center to the crowded confines of the airport's customs office. His directorial approach to the show is minimalist but far from simplistic, as the staging never fails to hold visual and emotional interest (greatly aided by Howell Binkley's outstanding lighting design). There is a kinetic energy that flows throughout the piece even when the characters are standing still, which makes the evening fly by.

Come From Away is a perfect example of the healing power of theatre, a cathartic and uplifting show centered around one of the darkest days in modern US history. Polished to a high sheen by a team of theatrical artisans working at the top of their game, this is must see theatre at its most pure. Do not let the 9/11 ties scare you away; you will cry, yes, but you will also laugh, cheer, and find yourself moved by humanity's ability to lift one another up when we truly need it. Given the dark and sometimes defeated political climate we find ourselves, Come From Away is just the sort of inspiring show Broadway needs right now.

"Hello" Bette, in a Truly Divine "Dolly"

Review: Hello, Dollly!

Bette Midler in the iconic title song from Hello, Dolly!

They just don't make them like this anymore. That old adage applies to both Hello, Dolly!, the Jerry Herman-Michael Stewart penned musical currently being revived at the Shubert Theatre, and most especially to star Bette Midler, appearing in a Broadway musical for the first time in 50 years. Midler possesses a luminous star quality the likes of which few performers can equal, and exudes it so naturally and effortlessly that she appear to glow from within. In the title role of this first class revival, Midler delivers the sort of legendary star turn that will be remembered for years to come, a must see theatrical event that has already set tongues wagging and ticket prices soaring. And Midler is worth every cent.

The plot of Hello, Dolly! finds professional matchmaker (and dance instructor, and makeup consultant, and a host of other eclectic professions) Dolly Gallagher Levi looking for a suitable wife for the well known "half a millionaire" Horace Vandergelder. Throughout the course of one extremely busy day, Dolly's meddling manages to find suitable mates for Vandergelder's niece Ermengarde, his shop attendants Cornelius Hackl and Barnaby Tucker, and last but not least Dolly herself. In all honesty, the farcical plot is of secondary importance to Herman's immortal songs and Midler's performance, and falls apart upon closer inspection. But you'll be far too entertained by Midler and the rest of this sparkling production to care.

It cannot be overstated how much Midler brings to the title role, so long associated with original star and theatrical icon Carol Channing. The award-winning actress and recording artist has such mastery over the show's particular brand of comedy that she elicits belly laughs with the merest gesture or change in inflection. A spritely presence with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Midler sends an electric energy over the footlights and into the rafters, demanding your full attention lest you miss whatever piece of comic genius she has cooked up next.

Midler is so good that one of the highlights of the show involves neither dialogue nor music, but watching the Divine Miss M (as her fans have dubbed her) devour a turkey leg, some dumplings, and a boat a gravy. The specificity of intention and attention to detail sells this and every other moment of Midler's performance, which feels both tightly honed and spontaneous all at once. Just when you think you've seen every trick in her arsenal Midler produces a new one, including genuine pathos in her conversations with her dearly departed husband, Ephram. These moments provide a level of emotional stakes to the piece that is unexpected yet wholly welcome, grounding the show and Dolly before switching back to side splitting musical shenanigans.

Midler's performance would be worth the price of admission alone, making the fact that the rest of the production is such a joy feel like a bonus. Director Jerry Zaks and choreographer Warren Carlyle have polished this old warhorse of a show to a brilliant shine, embracing the piece's old fashioned charms rather than trying to dress them up with modern bells and whistles. Santo Loquasto's sets are the kind of beautifully painted, stylized backdrops that haven't been seen on Broadway in years, demonstrating that for all the technological razzle dazzle of projections the old ways of doing things remain surprisingly effective. When Midler makes her entrance in a carriage drawn by a "horse" that is clearly two dancers inside of a costume, the old fashioned stagecraft makes the moment more memorable, not less. (And the way Midler graciously acknowledges the thunderous applause which greets her while staying in character is yet another testament to her unparalleled professionalism.)

Loquasto has also designed jaw droppingly gorgeous costumes, a pastel potpourri resplendent in detail and tailored to perfection. They are so entrancing that "Put On Your Sunday Clothes" becomes a breathtaking showstopper despite the fact it is literally just a parade of costumes. His staging for songs such as this and the opening "I Put My Hand In" shows that Carlyle knows the value of precise, minimalist movement, but he's also more than capable of having the ensemble leap and twirl their way through big productions like the appropriately titled "Dancing" or "The Waiters' Galop." Zaks keeps just as tight a handle on the book scenes, giving the production such buoyancy and pep that it flies along and ends far before you want it to.

And while Midler's performance is the headlining attraction, her costars are all first rate. David Hyde Pierce, decked out in mutton chops and an authentic Yonkers accent, is delightful as the cantankerous Vandergelder, particularly during his Act II opener "Penny In My Pocket." As Cornelius and Barnaby respectively, Gavin Creel and Taylor Trensch are a riot, clowning around in high fashion during their small town clerks' big city adventures (rarely has the word "pudding" been so hilarious). Kate Baldwin sings like a dream and mugs with the best of them as hatshop owner and object of Cornelius' affections Irene Malloy, and newcomer Beanie Feldstein is equally winsome as her assistant Minnie Fay. So deep is this production's roster of talent that they landed Tony-nominee Jennifer Simard for a side splitting single scene turn as Ernestina, Vandergelder's crass date to the fanciest restaurant in town.

Simply put, this is as good a production of Hello, Dolly! as you are ever likely to see, an unadulterated delight from start to finish. Everything about this loving tribute to Broadway's Golden Age is done at the highest possible level, a pure joy that will have you exiting the theatre humming the tunes and dancing on air. Midler's performance is one for the history books, joining the ranks of all time great star turns thanks to her talent, tireless work, and megawatt star quality. When she descends that grand staircase to the opening chords of the title song in Dolly's signature red dress and resplendent feathered headpiece, it is as if time stops, and you don't just agree but inarguably know that Midler, like Dolly, is truly back where she belongs.

A Musical In Need of a Do-Over

Review: Groundhog Day

Barrett Doss and Andy Karl in Groundhog Day at the August Wilson Theare.

The plot of Groundhog Day revolves around a weatherman forced to live the same day over and over again until he finally gets it right, breaking the loop and allowing him to move on. The creative team behind this new Broadway musical, many of whom were also involved in 2013's wildly inventive Matilda, seem to have encountered a similar conundrum in their writing. The show doesn't really start to click until well into its second act, and once it finds its narrative voice the musical promptly ends. And while it feels somewhat wrong to criticize a show built around the concept of repetition for being, well, repetitive, one has to imagine that some of the invention and creative spark of the last 20 minutes could have been brought into the proceeding 2 hours.

The show opens with the cantankerous Phil Connors (Andy Karl in full leading man mode) being forced to take an assignment covering the Groundhog Day festivities in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Shipped off to a small town he detests with a fairly green associate producer named Rita (Barrett Doss offering the right combination of sass and sympathy), Phil finds himself snowed in by an unexpected blizzard. The big city forecaster can't wait for the day to be over and be on his way, but to his horror when he awakens the next morning it is still February 2nd. No matter what Phil does or doesn't do during the day, every morning the loop resets, leaving him to ponder the unpleasant possibility that he may relive this day forever.

The high concept setup allows Groundhog Day to tackle some surprisingly dark material. Stuck reliving the same day on repeat, Phil goes through every imaginable reaction to the news, from horror to hedonism to depression and more. Yet rather than fully embracing its darker instincts or satirizing them with biting comedy, the show seems stuck in the same kind of limbo as its main character, unable to satisfactorily reach either tonal destination despite multiple valiant attempts. Danny Rubin's book is structured like a warped romantic comedy, but both the romantic and comedic aspects are only present is short bursts during an otherwise dull affair. (Rubin also wrote the screenplay for the beloved Bill Murray film on which the musical is based.)

Tim Minchin's score is equally confused, unable to settle on what it wants to be. The verbose songs are arranged and harmonized in such a way that the lyrics are often difficult to understand; the first three songs in particular are sung multiple times throughout the evening and I'm still not sure I caught all the words. Yet the songs also aren't melodically interesting enough to hold your attention without comprehending the words, so every time a musical number appears it seems to interrupt the narrative rather than enhance it. Minchin also devotes several numbers to minor characters we neither know nor care about, the most egregious example being the Act II opener "Playing Nancy." If Nancy were providing some commentary on the show's overarching narrative or themes it might prove to be a nice change of pace, but the song is entirely about her journey even though she has little to do or say either before or after.

Further compounding the show's narrative woes is Matthew Warchus' hyperactive direction, which rarely allows the actors time to stand still and focus on the emotion of their scenes. Although to be fair, standing still on Rob Howell's overly elaborate set is clearly a safety hazard, with so many set pieces moving in and out on the five(!) turntables that staying in place too long is a sure way to get injured. All of this technical wizardry might be impressively complex, but like many a British megamusical before it Groundhog Day ultimately becomes about the set rather than the story or characters.

The one constant among the show's disparate elements is the sparkling class, who are effortlessly winsome and entirely believable despite reenacting the exact same scene multiple times each night. Anchoring the production is newly minted Olivier Award winner Andy Karl, whose Phil Connors transforms slowly and seamlessly from a self centered ass into a warmhearted philanthropist. Karl's utterly charming performance has an ease about it that never betrays just how hard he is working, and the only knock against it is the role doesn't allow much of the overt comedy he's proven so adept at in the past. He is perfectly commented by Barrett Doss as the spunky Rita, and their chemistry makes even some of the clunkier scenes breeze by.

But ultimately, their alluring performances cannot fully salvage a show that doesn't really justify the need for musicalizing the beloved Bill Murray movie. In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I have never seen the Groundhog Day film, but a truly great adaptation of any source material should not rely on one's fondness of the original. It should stand on its own, entertaining newcomers while providing fans with an added layer of appreciation, something this incredibly busy stage adaptation doesn't quite manage.

Twin Powerhouses Making Beautiful Music Together

Review: War Paint

Patti LuPone as Helena Rubinstein and Christine Ebersole as Elizabeth Arden in War Paint.

It is a well documented problem that outside of Rose in Gypsy, there are few meaty musical theatre roles for women over the age of 40. The sensational new musical War Paint, about the lifelong rivalry between cosmetics giants Helena Rubinstein and Elizabeth Arden, aims to fix that by creating not one but two gargantuan roles rife with possibilities for nuance. Creators Scott Frankel, Michael Korie, and Doug Wright have expertly crafted these roles around the enormous talents of stage royalty Patti LuPone and Christine Ebersole, resulting in a true must see musical event that is as thrillingly entertaining as it is intellectually stimulating. This transcendent piece of theatre deftly explores themes of power and beauty through the story of two real life titans who paved the way for women in the upper echelons of big business, all while providing both LuPone and Ebersole with some of the juiciest material of their careers.

War Paint begins in the mid-1930s, after Rubinstein and Arden have become two of the wealthiest women in the world through their determination and business acumen. The cosmetics companies that bear their founders' names have successfully moved makeup from the realm of prostitutes and dance hall girls into acceptable everyday use, but neither CEO is content to rest on her laurels. While Arden seeks to corner the market on high end luxury products with her signature pink packaging and spa-like full body treatments, Rubinstein promotes her products as scientifically superior formulas guaranteed to make her clients more beautiful. The show follows their professional and personal rivalry over the next 30 years, which sees more than a few scandals and market shifts while both women fight to be taken seriously even after their unprecedented success.

Doug Wright's book seamlessly merges with Frankel and Korie's score to create an endlessly fascinating study of two strong women who are underestimated at every turn. Equal time is spent on the women's personal lives (or lack thereof, as their success requires constant sacrifice) and their business dealings, exploring what it means to be a powerful woman in a society dominated by men. As War Paint clearly illustrates, this has long been an issue in America, but the show feels particularly timely given the increased attention paid to these inequalities over the past few years, to say nothing of the nation's current political climate. War Paint manages to be insightful without feeling preachy, also finding time to address how Rubinstein and Arden's male second-in-commands deal with the reversal of roles. The fact that the show manages to acknowledge the inherent contradiction in Rubinstein and Arden's accomplishments - they paved the way for women in business by creating an industry that thrives on women's sense of inadequacy about their appearance - proves to be a nice bow on the entire evening.

Anchoring this production are the two knockout star turns from LuPone and Ebersole, who play Rubinstein and Arden respectively. Both women are absolutely sensational from beginning to end, with the writing team creating two multilayered roles that expertly cater to the women's strengths. LuPone is a force of nature as the fiery immigrant Rubinstein, portraying the cosmetics giant with equal parts grit and tenderness while also mining every ounce of comedy from the character's many caustic one liners. Her first big number, "Back on Top," is everything you'd want from a LuPone song, a big, brassy, belty showcase that distills all of the actress' most distinctive skills down to an absolutely thrilling four minutes. And while LuPone's voice is perhaps unequaled in its sheer power, she also displays deep wells of tenderness and sorrow, breaking your heart with the more introspective "Now You Know" and especially her eleven o'clock number "Forever Beautiful."

Ebersole beautifully contrasts LuPone's ferocity with a more nuanced portrayal of Elizabeth Arden, with Frankel and Korie once again crafting a score that showcases the actress' mercurial voice with the same level of invention as Grey Gardens did. Ebersole's performance is more of a slow burn, her character's perfectly mannered exterior slowly fading away over the course of the evening as she lets the audience and those closest to her into her world. She is positively inspiring during "Better Yourself," where Arden (unsuccessfully) tries to take a young woman under her wing, and agonizingly poignant during her Act II showstopper "Pink," which finds Arden confronted with the possibility of being forced out of her company.

And while two great things are not always great together, the many numbers which showcase both LuPone and Ebersole are easily the highlights of the evening. "If I'd Been a Man" takes the fairly straightforward idea that Rubinstein and Arden's work struggles stem largely from their gender and puts two deeply affecting human faces on it. They thrillingly conclude the first act by singing "Face to Face," something of a misnomer as they share the stage but don't interact in a song that is nonetheless entrancing. And when the pair finally meet in person at an awards banquet near the end of the show, the ensuing scene and song are nothing short of magical.

The two stars are ably supported by the rest of the cast, particularly John Dossett as Arden's husband/vice president Tommy Lewis and Douglas Sills as Rubinstein's second-in-command Harry Fleming. Both make excellent scene partners for LuPone and Ebersole while also sharing fine chemistry on their own, although their second act duet "Dinosaurs" is the show's only tonal misstep (and a minor one at that). The deceptively small ensemble knows exactly when to pop and when to fade into the background while the stars do their thing, and the staging is kept moving at an exciting clip by director Michael Greif and choreographer Christopher Gattelli. Special mention must be made of Catherine Zuber's gorgeous, period-perfect costumes, which are works of art in and of themselves while also going a long way towards making the 11 person ensemble look at least twice as large thanks to creative doubling of roles.

If the preceding review has not yet convinced you, allow me to state in no uncertain terms that you must see this show. War Paint takes everything that was exciting about Frankel and Korie's Grey Gardens and ups the accessibility and entertainment factors without sacrificing any of the depth. Both LuPone and Ebersole give sensational performances that could net either woman a third Best Actress Tony, and the show furthers the incredibly important national conversation regarding women's struggles in the workplace. It is both highbrow and immensely appealing, and one of the highlights of what is shaping up to be a very strong season for new musicals.