Big Budget and Spectacle Filled, Even When It Doesn't Need to Be

Review: Tuck Everlasting

Andrew Keenan-Bolger and Sarah Charles Lewis as Jesse Tuck and Winnie Foster in Tuck Everlasting.

Tony-winning director/choreographer Casey Nicholaw certainly seems to know what the people want. He is behind two of the biggest Broadway hits of the past 10 years, The Book of Mormon and Aladdin, and his most recent effort Something Rotten has proven surprisingly popular with both critics and audiences. All three shows share a similar tongue-in-cheek style of humor and an affinity for big song-and-dance production numbers that invoke the modernized spirit of Golden Age Broadway. So while it is admirable that Nicholaw has chosen to stretch himself with the decidedly more introspective and character-driven Tuck Everlasting, his natural instincts are at such odds with the material that this visually sumptuous but emotionally unsatisfying jumble of a show won't fully satisfy fans of either style of musical.

Based on the award-winning 1975 children's novel of the same name, Tuck Everlasting opens with 11-year-old Winnie Foster and her family still in mourning over the death of her father. Since the socially required yearlong mourning period hasn't passed, Winnie finds herself relegated to her house when all she wants to do is get out and explore the world. One night she sneaks out of the house and encounters Jesse Tuck, a 17-year-old boy whose family has a startling secret: they don't age. For the first time in a long time, Winnie feels invigorated by life thanks to her adventures with Jesse, and must contemplate her own mortality and whether or not to forfeit it for a chance to live with Jesse forever.

This fantastical premise opens the door for a surprisingly mature philosophical debate on the benefits and drawbacks of immortality, quite a large question for a family musical to tackle. Claudia Shear and Tim Federle's book handles the issue with grace, keeping the material accessible to children without completely shying away from the story's bittersweet overtones. Unfortunately their handling of plotting and characterization is much more rudimentary, giving us only the broadest sketches of the characters who inhabit this world.

In a better musical, Chris Miller and Nathan Tyson's score would pick up the narrative slack, but here too Tuck Everlasting disappoints. The pair definitely clearly have talent, as evidenced by a handful of charming songs including Winnie's signature "Good Girl Winnie Foster," but is inconsistently displayed here. Miller's melodies can get repetitive and Tyson's lyrics are filled with forced rhymes and poorly worded ideas, shortcomings that are all the more frustrating when other songs in the show lack these problems. Both the book and score can't seem to settle on just how sophisticated they'd like to be, as if scared that becoming too clever will alienate their young audience (this does not seem to be an issue for Tuck's next door neighbor, the exceedingly clever and long-running Matilda).

Muddying the waters even further is Nicholaw's direction, straining and ultimately failing to marry his love of big budget Broadway spectacle with the show's small scale tendencies. Nicholaw repeatedly has his chorus of dancers prancing around in the background during what should be intimate character moments, distracting from rather than adding to the principle casts' performances. And for the amount of choreography present, it is surprisingly generic, with the same handful of moves performed ad nauseam. The show works best when Nicholaw allows the material to speak for itself, such as the simple yet moving Act II ballad "The Wheel" or Winnie and Jesse's first meeting, "Top of the World."

The cast is all charming and likable, even when they are visibly struggling to elevate the material they've been given. Sarah Charles Lewis is quite the find as Winnie, poised and graceful with a pure and lovely voice. Hers is a wonderfully naturalistic, unlabored performance that you wish had informed the rest of the show, as she manages to impress without resorting to flashy tricks. Golden-voiced Andrew Keenan-Bolger is a great foil to Lewis as the forever young Jesse Tuck, matching her youthful energy every step of the way.

Carolee Carmello and Michael Park are underutilized as Ma and Pa Tuck, but do well with what little material they are given. And Robert Lenzi provides a refreshing jolt of mature energy as the elder Tuck son Miles, doing the best job of portraying the emotional strain living forever has taken on the family. As the villain of the story, Terrence Mann is certainly committed to his hammy portrayal, but it is such an odd performance that is never feels either threatening or entertaining, just bizarre.

The show's elaborate production design is certainly pretty to look at, with Walt Spangler's jewel-toned set providing an excellent amount of visual variety over the show's runtime. But while the multi-leveled versatility of Spangler's design is certainly impressive, it ultimately becomes distracting, with every new set piece adding to the production's bloated feeling. Gregg Barnes' costumes are similarly intriguing/off-putting, meticulously realized but bordering on overdesigned. The most successful design element is Kenneth Posner's lighting, which always enhances the storytelling rather than competing with it.

Given the number of high quality family musicals currently playing Broadway, it is difficult to justify the need for Tuck Everlasting. The show is serviceable, but nothing about it seems quite fully formed. No one on the creative team seems to know what type of show they want to make - should it be intimate and character driven or splashy and spectacle-laden? - and that tonal tension is apparent onstage. The youngest audiences members are certain not to care, but more discerning theatregoers can likely find a better family outing among Broadway's many musical offerings (the aforementioned Matilda and Aladdin both spring to mind).

Definitely Not Rotten, but Perhaps a Tad Stale

Review: Something Rotten!

Welcome to the Renaissance, or at least Something Rotten's comically askew version of it.

Will you look at that? An honest to goodness original musical has appeared at the St. James Theatre in the guise of Something Rotten, although "original" is a relative term here. While not based on any preexisting source material, this show about the fictional creation of the world's first musical is heavily influenced in structure and tone by past backstage musicals, most noticeably The Producers (with a healthy helping of Spamalot thrown in for good measure). It's an unfortunate comparison to invoke, as the misadventures of Bialystock and Bloom make for a more satisfying evening of theatre, but that doesn't stop Something Rotten from being a mostly charming confection that is one or two revisions away from real greatness.

Set in Renaissance England, this is the story of Nick and Nigel Bottom, two playwriting brothers who are struggling to attract any attention in a field dominated by everyone's favorite playwright, William "The Bard" Shakespeare. Desperate for respect and wanting to provide a better home for his family, Nick seeks the advice of a local soothsayer named Nostradamus (the cousin of the one you're thinking of), who peers into the future to give Nick the revolutionary and potentially terrible idea of adding song and dance numbers to his play. Amidst great skepticism, Nick and Nigel plunge forward with their newly created musical while trying to secure financing, avoid Puritan outrage, and prevent Shakespeare from stealing their idea and passing it off as his own.

Something Rotten is a love letter to the joyous ridiculousness of musical theatre, and your level of enjoyment will partially depend on just how versed you are in the medium's history. While anyone can appreciate the show's many sight gags and clever wordplay, Something Rotten is a show targeted squarely at the theatre kid who can identify "Big Spender" by its opening vamp and correctly recognize a single line of Shakespeare's iambic pentameter. If that's you, there is a nearly endless stream of knowing winks in the book and score guaranteed to make you smile, but if you have trouble telling Annie from La Cage aux Folles then you may find yourself wondering what everyone else is laughing at. The book by Broadway neophytes Karey Kirkpatrick and John O'Farrell is great at reference-heavy metahumor, but has less success establishing meaningful character relationships or coming up with a satisfactorily plotted ending (to be fair, the latter is an area in which even well-respected classics struggle).

The score by brothers Wayne and Karey Kirkpatrick freely quotes famous musicals from all eras, an amusing conceit that also robs the show of a strong musical identity of its own. Luckily, most songs are saved by the Kirkpatricks' exceedingly clever lyrics, which are filled with well-crafted rhymes while being self-aware enough to jokingly acknowledge when they resort to cheating. And with the extraordinarily talented Casey Nicholaw at the show's helm, every musical number is staged with an unabashed zaniness that makes it easy to forgive any melodic clunkiness. Nicholaw's choreography tends towards frantic here, but he has also crafted a couple of genuine showstoppers, the highlight of which is "A Musical," the extended fantasia in the middle of Act I which encapsulates nearly every iconic moment from the past 100 years of musical theatre.

The show's cast is very good, although they lack that indefinable magic that would elevate them to the level of a truly great comedic ensemble. Brian d'Arcy James leads the cast with supreme confidence and excellent timing as Nick Bottom, although it's a shame he's never truly given an opportunity to showcase his magnificent voice. John Cariani is less effective as the nebbish Nigel, partly due to his underwritten character and partly due to the actor's own unfocused - though undeniably charming - mannerisms. Brad Oscar absolutely kills as Nostradamus; he has the advantage the script's best jokes, but it is his impeccable delivery that elevates the character's wink-wink-nudge-nudge observations into side-splitting laugh lines. Heidi Blickenstaff and Kate Reinders handle their love interest roles with aplomb, and Brooks Ashmanskas is his usual hammy self in the role of self-righteous Puritan Brother Jeremiah.

And then there's Christian Borle. Borle hasn't been seen on Broadway since his Tony-winning turn as Black Stache in Peter and the Starcatcher, and the self-indulgent William Shakespeare is the perfect role for his triumphant return. The show portrays Shakespeare as a rockstar, right down to the exceedingly tight leather pants, and Borle's primping and preening is hilariously off-putting. Not every aspect of his characterization fits in with the rest of the show - Borle's faux British accent sounds nothing like anyone else onstage - but his is such an effectively pompous performance that you're apt not to care.

Visually, the show is a treat, a stylized rendition of Elizabethan England that exaggerates select elements to perfectly navigate that delicate space between whimsical fantasy and grounded reality. Scott Pask's versatile set is intricate without being flashy, and Gregg Barnes' gorgeous period costumes have a great deal of fun with the more elaborate elements of Renaissance garb (specifically, bustles and codpieces). Everything is beautifully lit by Jeff Croiter, whose brightly colored lighting design helps keep the piece airy and fun.

Something Rotten is certainly an entertaining show, and it's easy to understand why the producers bypassed a scheduled out-of-town tryout to fast-track its Broadway premiere. That said, the show probably would have benefited from some more fine tuning, specifically in the tone department. O'Farrell and the Kirkpatricks can't decide just how raunchy they want to be, occasionally self-censoring in a way that dampens the fun. They're seemingly fine with graphic descriptions of the body's reaction to the bubonic plague, but stop just short of making the obvious sexual innuendos implied by the protagonists' surname (if you're going to write a song called "Bottom's Gonna Be on Top," you can't be afraid to really go there). Still, they get points for creating something without pre-existing source material, and the game cast and strong direction help to smooth over any weaknesses in the writing. There are certainly worse ways to spend a night in the theatre, and while the show may not always feel fresh, it is very far from rotten.


*Note: This review is based on the second preview performance. While I have tried to take into account likely improvements, depending on how many changes the creative team makes this review may not be representative of the final product*

Disney Works Its Magic Again

Review:  Aladdin

Rumor has it that there is one sequin in the Genie's costume for every million dollars Disney expects to make off this show.

After adapting Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, and The Lion King into stage musicals with varying degrees of success, Disney has finally gotten around to giving Aladdin, the sole unadapted film of it's early 90s renaissance, the Broadway treatment.  And in a feat of theatrical magic, this new musical comedy manages to strike the perfect balance between honoring its source material and reinventing it for the stage.  Moreso than any previous Disney musical, Aladdin's additions to the source material feel organic and necessary rather than tacked on and superfluous, meshing seamlessly with everything that made the film an instant classic.  The slick, sparkling production currently wowing audiences at the New Amsterdam Theatre is guaranteed to make you feel like a kid again, with the kind of eye-popping production values only Disney-level money can buy.

For those who have somehow avoided the Oscar-winning film these past twenty years, Aladdin tells the story of the titular "street rat" who steals to survive while dreaming of something more.  A chance encounter with the strong-willed Princess Jasmine leaves Aladdin head over heels in love with her, but the law of the land states that only a prince may marry the princess.  When Aladdin comes into possession of a magic lamp, the wisecracking Genie who lives inside promises to grant him three wishes, giving Aladdin everything he needs to make his dreams come true, provided he can keep the lamp out of the evil Jafar's power hungry hands.

The musical adheres closely to the film's structure, while also incorporating material that was cut during its development.  Aladdin is now accompanied by three fellow thieves named Babkak, Omar, and Kassim, who serve as both sidekicks and foils for our hero while providing plenty of comic relief.  (Unfotunately, Aladdin's simian sidekick Abu hasn't made the transition from screen to stage, although he is cleverly referenced during one of the show's many production numbers.)  The stage show also attempts to beef up Jasmine's character with a few extra songs and some token dialogue about strong, independent women, although this material doesn't add any layers to the character that weren't already present in the film.  All of the changes and additions to the narrative are well-realized and cleverly integrated in Chad Beguelin's well-written if workmanlike book, which also faithfully recreates all of the film's most iconic moments.

The movie's songs by Alan Menken and the late Howard Ashman are all present, often in expanded arrangements that sound fantastic.  "Arabian Nights" has been transformed into a magnificent choral number that sends chills down the spine, while "Friend Like Me" and "Prince Ali" have been given swinging jazz makeovers.  The show also includes the beautiful ballad "Proud of Your Boy," originally written for the film but cut from the finished feature, which acts as a constant touchstone for the character of Aladdin during its many reprises.  There's also a rollicking production number called "Babkak, Omar, Aladdin, Kassim" and thrilling swashbuckling tune called "High Adventure."  All of the new music by composer Alan Menken (with additional lyrics by bookwriter Beguelin) meshes perfectly with the pre-existing tunes, even if none of them quite reaches the heights of the film's original seven.

While the material for the show is strong, the direction and production values are stronger, and they are what truly propel Aladdin into must-see territory.  Director/choreography Casey Nicholaw helms the production with an unbridled joy for the material that is positively infectious, with choreography and staging to match.  As he proved with his work on The Book of Mormon, Nicholaw knows his way around a production number, and his continually slick choreography builds each dance to an ecstatic crescendo.  His playful work on the aforementioned "Babkak, Omar, Aladdin, Kassim" turns a number obviously created as filler into an early highlight, and Act II opener "Prince Ali" is equally sumptuous.  But the crowning jewel of this production is Nicholaw's elaborately staged "Friend Like Me," a legitimate showstopper with a dazzling array of inventive dancing, magic tricks, sight gags, and even fireworks (that's right, fireworks).   The thunderous applause that greeted this number on the night I saw the show was wholly earned, and it simply must be seen to be believed.

Of course, Nicholaw isn't working in a vacuum, and the resplendent production design goes a long way towards making Aladdin such a beauty to behold.  Gregg Barnes' costumes contain an entire season's worth of beading and sequins, and his saturated color pallet perfectly encapsulates the show's exotic locale.  Barnes' work is so strong that Nicholaw is able to structure "Prince Ali" around a literal parade of costumes, and the multiple costume reveals throughout the show are a joy to behold.  Set designer Bob Crowley takes something of a back seat to Barnes, but his work is equally impressive, especially in conjunction with Natasha Katz's lighting design.  The particular combination of lighting and set design during "A Whole New World's" iconic magic carpet ride is stunning in its simplicity and beauty.  All told, the production design of Aladdin is the most outright gorgeous of any musical of the past five years.

Performance-wise the show is more of a mixed bag, with the slickness of the production and the acting sometimes hindering the expression of genuine emotion.  Adam Jacobs makes for a dashingly handsome Aladdin, with a golden voice that sounds particularly lovely on "Proud of Your Boy."  He has the character's roguish charm down pat, but unfortunately he isn't given a lot to work with by the beautiful but sometimes wooden Courtney Reed as Princess Jasmine.  Their chemistry is decidedly lopsided in Jacobs' favor, although they sell the Oscar-winning duet "A Whole New World" with aplomb.

The supporting characters are another story entirely, bringing down the house thanks to the artistic freedom of not having to carry an entire show.  James Monroe Iglehart's riotous performance as the scene stealing Genie provides the evening's biggest belly laughs, and his high energy charisma gives the enormous production numbers a much-needed jumping off point.  Jonathan Freeman, the original voice of Jafar from the film, recreates the villain for the stage with the kind of gleefully bad behavior and shameless scenery chewing that is the hallmark of a good Disney villain.  Freeman is ably matched by his cohort in crime, Don Darryl Rivera's hilarious Iago (who is no longer a parrot, but still Jafar's abrasive sidekick), and the duo's comic timing is impeccable.  It's a shame the pair doesn't have more stage time, but they make what they have count.

Few shows arrive on Broadway with such lofty expectations as Aladdin, and thankfully the production delivers on almost all fronts.  Alan Menken's Oscar-winning score sounds more glorious than ever, and Chad Beguine's book recreates all of the iconic moments from the film while seamlessly adding a plethora of new material.  Expertly staged by the preternaturally gifted Casey Nicholaw, the game cast turns out showstopper after showstopper, although occasionally the show's heart gets lost in the shuffle.  Furthermore, the show is unabashedly, breathtakingly gorgeous in a way few shows are allowed to be anymore, making it a feast for the eyes and ears.  Aladdin is a surefire blockbuster, and will make even the most jaded of theatregoers feel like a kid again, if only for a few fleeting hours.