The Worst Shows of 2013

Every year, I like to do a snarkier, far less goodnatured companion to my Best Shows of the Year lists (which you can see here and here).  Because as much as I wish it wasn't so, some shows are just bad, and there's no excuse for that in a city with such a wealth of talented, knowledgeable theatre professionals.

So here, for your reading enjoyment, is my Worst Shows of 2013 list.  Just like my Best Shows list, for a production to be eligible it must have: 1) opened during the 2013 calendar year; and 2) been seen by yours truly.  The good news is that this year, I couldn't even come up with my standard list of 5, which means either the shows were generally better this year or I was better at avoiding the real stinkers.  The shows with the "honor" of making this list were not just bad, but so bad that I found them to be an insult to the art form and those of us who love it.  I know there's at least one choice that's going to cause some controversy, but I fully stand behind my naming these shows the four least enjoyable things I've seen this year.

4) The Glass Menagerie

Cherry Jones and Celia Keenan-Bolger; two superbly cast, horribly directed actresses in Broadway's latest Glass Menagerie.

I'm sure many will disagree with this choice, as the current Broadway revival of The Glass Menagerie has ended up on many critics' Best Of lists, with several going so far as proclaiming it the best production of the play they've ever seen.  I don't know what production those critics saw, but the show I witnessed was a prime example of good material ruined by bad direction.  Menagerie may be a "memory play" with a certain dreamlike quality to it, but that doesn't give director John Tiffany permission to hopscotch from abstract concept to abstract concept mid-performance.  Celia Keenan-Bolger's first entrance from inside the couch is a striking visual, but it sets up a convention that is never again revisited and therefore seems extraneous in hindsight (no other characters makes an entrance or exit nearly as interesting).  The choreographed interstitials, seemingly left over from Tiffany's Tony-winning musical Once, are the definition of random, and provide no useful service to either character development or narrative structure.  The four actors are well cast, but then poorly directed to the point where none of the roles land the way they need to for the piece to truly sing.  While I appreciate Tiffany's choice to emphasize the play's comedy as a way to free it from the baggage of being a Great American Drama, he has defanged the play (and the character of Amanda in particular) to the point where the final scenes have none of the poignancy or resonance they were clearly meant to.  I know I'm in the minority with this opinion, but I truly don't understand what all the fuss is about, which is doubly disappointing as this was one of the fall shows I was most excited to see.

3) Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

At least Scarlett Johansson and Benjamin Walker are easy on the eyes.

On paper, reviving Tennessee Williams' Pulitzer Prize-winning Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Tony-winner Scarlett Johansson sounds like a surefire recipe for success (and you haters can shut your mouths, because she was outstanding in A View from the Bridge).  But the first of many poor decisions made by the producers was booking the cavernous Richard Rodgers Theatre, which is simply too big for the scale of this play.  The actors were practically swallowed by the gargantuan set and playing space, and compensated for it by screaming most of their lines in a desperate attempt to fill the space.  This need by the entire cast to push, perhaps at director Rob Ashford's encouragement, robbed the play of all subtly and variance in emotional intensity, resulting in a very long evening of deeply unhappy people yelling at each other.  And not in a good way, as in other Pulitzer Prize winners like Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? or August: Osage County.  Here's hoping the critical and commercial failure of this production doesn't scare the supremely talented Johansson away from Broadway forever.

2) Little Miss Sunshine

"I can't answer the question, 'Are we there yet?' No one knows what direction this show is headed in!"

The best word I can think of to describe the film version of Little Miss Sunshine is "quirky," which is one of the hardest traits to convey onstage.  But if anyone was capable of pulling it off, it should have been James Lapine and William Finn, whose collaboration on The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee was the definition of "quirky" and a surprise critical and commercial success.  Unfortunately, lightning failed to strike twice, and the Off-Broadway premiere of Little Miss Sunshine was a borderline painful experience.  Lapine and Finn seemed unable to decide if they wanted to emphasize the comedy or the drama, and splitting the difference resulted in neither one being particularly successful.  Structurally the show was a nightmare, with most of Finn's songs serving little to no purpose and in several cases making character motivations and feelings more obscure rather than clearer.  The supremely talented cast - including Tony-nominees Stephanie J. Block, Rory O'Malley, and Will Swenson - all struggled mightily to overcome the frankly terrible material, and unfortunately none of them emerged entirely unscathed from the debacle.  Heavily rewritten after its original premiere at La Jolla Playhouse, perhaps it's time the creators declare this show unsalvageable and move on to other ventures.

1) Cinderella

You're right, Laura.  It's NOT fair that you two have to act in this debacle.

I really struggled with whether to crown Little Miss Sunshine or Cinderella the year's worst show, but ultimately the complete debacle occurring nightly at the Broadway Theatre is the more egregious waste of money and talent.  Although officially titled Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella, this completely reworked version of the 1957 telemovie bears such little resemblance to that work it might as well be a new show.  For reasons I will never understand, Douglas Carter Beane was contracted to rewrite the show's book, despite his work on Lysistrata Jones and Sister Act proving that he wouldn't know proper story structure or quality character writing if it bit him in the ass.  Beane's postmodern sensibility is at complete odds with the earnestness of Rodgers and Hammerstein's score, and he burdens the show with a kindergarten-level lecture on the merits of democracy that is so simplistic it is actively insulting.

Forcing Laura Osnes to act in such drivel is almost criminal, especially considering how ideally suited she is for the Cinderella Rodgers and Hammerstein originally wrote.  Harriet Harris is saddled with the brunt a bad jokes and a character "arc" that makes even less sense than the translated menu at a Chinese take-out restaurant, and watching Ann Harada struggle to act out both sides of the Evil Stepsister dynamic (since Beane has decided to make the other stepsister more sympathetic) is just sad.  To borrow a phrase overused by pretty much every character in the show:  "Seriously?"  The Broadway Theatre has hosted some truly awful productions over the past few years, and unfortunately Cinderella is right up there with Promises, Promises in it's ability to insult and torture anyone unfortunate enough to wind up in the audience.


And there you have it; the worst shows of 2013.  I recommend avoiding these works at all costs, and spending your hard-earned cash on something that actually advances the theatre.  Hopefully this list will be even shorter next year.  Happy New Year!

A Musical Comedy Stuck in 2nd Gear

Review:  Little Miss Sunshine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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