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.

Searching for a Connection, One Post at a Time

Review: Dear Evan Hansen

Ben Platt (center) and the cast of Dear Evan Hansen.

The most satisfying aspect of the Broadway transfer of Dear Evan Hansen, the fantastic new musical which premiered Off-Broadway at Second Stage last spring, is seeing just how well the show has expanded to fill its new theatrical home. Very little has changed from its initial incarnation, but the cast and creative team have deepened and sharpened the show's emotional center to create the most satisfying musical of the current Broadway season. In a theatrical landscape bursting with movie adaptations and big-budget musical revivals, the wholly original Hansen is a breath of fresh air, showcasing a contemporary edge that supports rather than fights its universal appeal.

Loosely inspired by real life events at co-composer/lyricist Benj Pasek's high school, the show opens with the perpetually awkward and lonely Evan Hansen starting his senior year with a broken arm and serious social anxiety. Every day Evan writes himself a letter designed to be encouraging, and through a series of mishaps one of these notes ends up in the possession of troubled fellow student Connor Murphy right before Connor takes his own life. With Evan as the last seeming link to their now dead son, Connor's parents and his younger sister (who Evan has long had a crush on) reach out to Evan in an attempt to ease their grief by learning more about the boys' relationship. And when word of this supposed friendship gets out to the school at large, Evan becomes one of the most talked about - and oddly popular - kids at school.

Much has been made of the contemporary trappings of Evan Hansen; social media, emails, and a host of other methods of electronic communication feature prominently in the plot. But what makes the show truly moving is how the composing team of Benj Pasek and Justin Paul along with bookwriter Steven Levenson so clearly delineate the ways in which these new technologies all exist to fulfill the very basic, primal need of human beings to feel like they belong. At its heart, Evan Hansen is a show about a group of individuals longing for human connection and the lengths they'll go through to get it. The show also offers a compelling, multifaceted look at how different individuals process grief, and the struggles of parenting teenagers in any decade (the show telling opens with a brief song for Evan and Connor's mothers entitled "Anybody Have a Map?").

Pasek and Paul's score effortlessly captures the infinite complexity of these issues, exploring them with intelligence and depth without offering any easy answers. Their soaring melodies and evocative harmonies cut to the very core of these characters, and yet are unabashedly gorgeous in their own right. The duo was Tony-nominated for their Broadway debut on A Christmas Story, but the treasure trove of songs they've written for Evan Hansen far surpasses their work on that charming holiday adaptation. Pasek and Paul assert their mastery of the musical theatre form again and again, be it on Evan's trasnportive "For Forever," the haunting "Requiem" for the Murphy family, or the buoyant and deliciously droll "Sincerely, Me." The pair also wisely knows when to let their songwriting abilities take a backseat to Levenson's excellent scene work, which expertly moves the plot along without making the sacrifices in depth that too many musical bookwriters make in the name of efficiency.

Everything is directed with unerring precision by Michael Greif, the man behind the artistically similar Next to Normal and If/Then. Greif's ability to balance the show's humor and pathos is remarkable, and he knows exactly how long to let a particular moment or scene breathe before seamlessly transitioning to the next story beat. If there is one critique to be had, it's that Greif hasn't quite brought his design team up to his level, particularly the lighting. Japhy Weideman's stylized lighting design helps to emphasize the cold and sometimes isolating nature of internet communication, but his overuse of harsh downlight often leaves actors' faces partially obscured and difficult to read, particularly from the mezzanine.

Yet even when not fully lit, the cast of Evan Hansen is simply sublime from top to bottom. The clear standout is young Ben Platt as the title character, delivering one of the most fascinating and wonderfully textured leading man performances of the season. While Platt's collection of physical tics and awkward mannerisms felt a tad forced Off-Broadway, here they are entirely believable and instantly establish Evan as a lovable loser who can't quite figure out this whole high school thing. Platt's soaring voice is a perfectly matched to a role clearly created around his specific set of talents, and his is the most exciting star turn on Broadway since Cynthia Erivo burst onto the scene in last season's The Color Purple (like Erivo, I expect Platt to do very well come awards season). Platt proves to be an exceedingly accomplished actor for someone so young, effortlessly carrying the evening and making you root for Evan even while cringing at some of the character's more questionable decisions.

Platt is matched scene for scene by the rest of his cast mates, who are universally excellent. Special praise must go to Jennifer Laura Thompson and Rachel Bay Jones as Cynthia Murphy and Heidi Hansen respectively. Both play mothers struggling against obstacles they are woefully unprepared for, and each actress shares their character's vulnerability and strength in equal measure. Your heart will break repeatedly for Thompson as she desperately clings to any scrap of a connection with her departed son Connor, displaying a grief which is heartrendingly real while also allowing us to see the character's lighter side. And Jones is sensational as Evan's mom Heidi, trying her best to raise her son on her own but clearly overwhelmed by her circumstances. Only the most hardened of hearts will remain unmoved by her rendition of "So Big/So Small" near the show's conclusion, a remarkable insightful encapsulation a mother's love and heartache while trying to figure out where their lives go next.

It is rare for a musical to burst onto the scene as fully formed as Dear Evan Hansen, especially one not based on any kind of source material. The contemporary trappings provide a new context for a universal story about longing and acceptance, the struggles we all face in navigating the challenges of day to day life. Superbly written and expertly performed, this is an enthralling musical for the ages, one which deserves to be seen by the widest audience possible.

Grief in the Time of Twitter

Review: Dear Evan Hansen

Ben Platt (center) and the cast of Dear Evan Hansen

One of the best musicals of the year is playing just Off-Broadway on West 43rd Street, where Dear Evan Hansen recently opened at the Second Stage Theatre. Featuring a top-notch score by Tony-nominated songwriters Benj Pasek and Justin Paul along with a host of dynamic performances, Evan Hansen is the definition of a contemporary musical, tackling the concerns and issues arising from our increasingly digital society with wit and deep psychological insight.

The story follows the titular Evan Hansen, an awkward, lonely teen starting his senior year of high school with a broken wrist and very few friends. On the first day of school, a series of misunderstandings leads others to assume Evan is friends with another loner, Connor Murphy, a troubled youth who takes his own life just a few days later. With Connor's family turning to Evan for comfort, the misunderstanding steadily grows thanks to the power of social media and Evan's own questionable choices.

At the heart of Steven Levenson's book is a mature, probing look at grief and how tragedies bind us together in the age of social media and viral videos. The show is not about what led Connor to take his own life (an explanation is never provided or even hinted at), but rather about how those left behind process their grief. It also examines the communal aspects of the way we mourn, and asks how much of the professed sadness on social media stems from a desire to belong to some kind of community, even one bound together by tragedy. Levenson's layered writing manages to tackle these issues in a way that feels both specific and universal, all while keeping the show's action rooted in the fully realized characters at the heart of the story.

Augmenting the emotional exploration of the piece immensely is Pasek and Paul's fantastic pop-rock score, a marvel of modern musical theatre songwriting that packs in all the vocal tricks associated with contemporary music (sky high belting, complex riffs, and tight harmonies) without ever feeling flashy or showy. For all of the pair's giddy musical invention, they ensure that every note and syllable furthers the story and characters, with every song serving multiple functions. Evan's soaring "For Forever" paints a beautiful picture of a (fictional) summer day, setting into motion the story's central deception while simultaneously allowing him to express his innermost desires, all carried off using one of the catchiest melodic hooks of the past few seasons. This kind of complex writing makes every musical number a treat, and the lush orchestrations by Alex Lacamoire make the small 8-person band sound just as rich as a pit twice the size.

The cast is first rate, anchored by Ben Platt's searing portrayal of the lonely and lost Evan Hansen. Known primarily for comedic roles in films like Pitch Perfect and musicals like The Book of Mormon, Platt reveals unending wells of deeply felt emotion over the course of the evening. Unafraid of being vulnerable, by the time Platt sings his character's climatic "Words Fail" both he and the audience are reduced to a blubbering mess, the kind of shared catharsis that occurs only when an actor lays their entire soul bare onstage. Yet Platt is also laugh-out-loud funny, mining Levenson's book for all its humor and providing an excellent comedic balance to the show's gut-wrenching pathos. If Platt occasionally overdoes his character's physical tics, the rest of his performance is so compelling you're unlikely to care.

Rachel Bay Jones is fantastic as Evan's mother Heidi, showing us every facet of a single mother struggling "without a roadmap" to be the best parent she can be to her pride and joy. Jones' instantly accessible persona draws you in while her extremely expressive face conveys a wealth of conflicting emotions, all of which finally bubble to the surface during "Good For You." Just a few scenes later, the supremely gifted actress is both heartwarming and quietly devastating during "So Big/So Small," one of the most touching musical moments of the season.

Both Jennifer Laura Thompson and John Dossett are excellent as Connor's parents, offering very different but entirely captivating portrayals of grief. Laura Dreyfuss offers what initially appears to be a generic take on Connor's younger sister, but by the time she gets to her first big solo she reveals a convincingly complex take on someone who both loathes and desperately misses her big brother. And although Mike Faist doesn't get a lot of time onstage as the real Connor Murphy, the character returns multiple times in other people's memories, and Faist's ability to slightly alter his characterization to reflect how each character remembers him is astounding.

Director Michael Greif uses many of the same tricks he employed in past shows like Rent, If/Then, and the Pulitzer Prize-winning Next to Normal, the show Dear Evan Hansen is most obviously inspired by. While this can occasionally make his staging feel derivative, there's no denying that those tricks work, and few directors are better at making a mostly bare stage interesting to look at than Greif. He has also guided his actors to career-defining performances, making for one of the tightest onstage ensembles since, well, Next to Normal.

For all its dark overtones, Dear Evan Hansen proves to be an ultimately uplifting and deeply satisfying piece of theatre, Already more accomplished than the majority of big Broadway offerings this season, the show continues the boundary-pushing experimentation of musicals like Fun Home and the megahit Hamilton, both of which originated Off-Broadway before making their much-acclaimed Main Stem bows. Since producers have yet to announce any transfer plans for this more than deserving show, everyone should rush to see this first rate musical drama while they still can.

If Every Show Were This Daring, Then Broadway Would Be a Truly Magical Place

Review: If/Then

Idina Menzel returns to Broadway in the central role of If/Then, possibly the finest piece of stage acting she has ever done.

Let's get this out of the way: If/Then is not as good as Next to Normal.  But expecting Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey's follow-up to that near-perfect Pulitzer Prize-winner to reach such lofty heights is an unreasonable standard to have, and makes the brazenly ambitious If/Then sound like a much bigger failure than it actually is.  While no means perfect, this entirely original musical is one of the most intellectually stimulating and emotionally satisfying new works of the season, provided you're willing to stick with it through a sometimes muddled first act.  And just as they did for Alice Ripley, Kitt and Yorkey have written an absolute gift of a role for the immensely talented Idina Menzel, arguably having the biggest year of her career thanks to this and her work in Disney's smash-hit Frozen.

If/Then follows Elizabeth (Idina Menzel), a woman in her late 30s who has returned to New York following the end of her marriage.  She agrees to meet two friends in the park: Lucas (Rent star Anthony Rapp), her activist best friend and occasional lover from college, and Kate (Tony-winner LaChanze), the outgoing neighbor she just met while moving into her new apartment.  She is presented with a seemingly inconsequential choice - go with Lucas to a protest or spend the afternoon in the park with Kate - that sends her life in two entirely different directions, one career-oriented and one focused on her personal life.  The show cuts back and forth between her parallel potential lives (both timelines include an emotionally charged 39th birthday party and an unplanned pregnancy), ultimately asking the audience to consider such weighty issues as fate-versus-chance and career-versus-home-life.

While fascinating (and the very crux of the show), these parallel stories do present narrative challenges that bookwriter Yorkey and director Michael Greif don't entirely solve.  They've named the career-oriented persona Beth and dressed her in power suits and business attire, while the family-oriented Liz favors glasses and cardigans.  There are generally (but not always) color-coordinated lighting cues to help distinguish the two.  Yorkey's book works extra hard to weave in pertinent reminders of which set of circumstances applies to the current scene, and actually succeeds more often than not in making the references seem natural rather than forced.  Nevertheless, the first act in particular is hard to follow, and you are bound to miss some plot points the first time through despite Greif's fluid direction and Menzel's incredibly assured performance.

But just when you're ready to write the show off, something miraculous happens after intermission.  Suddenly the show clicks, and you realize that despite the confusion you gleaned all the information needed from the plot-heavy first act to set you up for the engrossing character study of the second.  With the necessary exposition out of the way, the show is free to explore the notion of regret and the road not taken, along with the often conflicting emotions of adult contemporary life.  Liz loves her family but is clearly frustrated she put her career on the back burner, while Beth feels validated and fulfilled by her job as a prominent urban planner but has precious few people to share in her success.  The show thankfully avoids portraying one choice as inherently better than the other; they are simply choices, both with major pros and cons, and as the show wisely argues it is ultimately up to the individual to decide what is best for him or her.

Kitt's score is intricate and expressive, although it mostly avoids the catchy melodic hooks that defined a good portion of his Next to Normal score; in fact, the show's weaker numbers are the ones that adhere to the more conventional verse-chorus-verse structure of musical theatre.  Yorkey's excellent lyrics are simultaneously conversational and profound, capturing the rhythms of contemporary New York speech (the show is, among other things, a love letter to the island of Manhattan).  The writing of If/Then is not perfect, but it does a large number of things remarkable well, a feat even more impressive considering there is no source material providing a roadmap for how to tell this story.

As previously mentioned, Menzel is sensational in the central role.  Her ten years away from Broadway haven't in any way diminished her considerable stage chops; if anything, her skills have only grown.  Menzel's performance is several steps above her Tony-winning turn as the misunderstood Elphaba in Wicked, demonstrating an unexpected emotional breadth and depth.  Yes, she sounds fantastic with her seemingly inexhaustible belt, but the true beauty of Menzel's work is the complex emotional shading she brings to each lyric and phrase.  She is charming, unexpectedly funny, and occasionally heartbreaking in a performance carried out with such warmth, intelligence, and charisma that is appears almost effortless despite the fact she rarely leaves the stage.  Her characters in Wicked and Rent will likely remain Menzel's signature roles, but If/Then represents the artistic pinnacle of her career as a stage actress thus far.

Although they don't get nicknames to distinguish their two personas, both Rapp and LaChanze do great work portraying Elizabeth's best friends in both timelines.  Rapp, with a voice seemingly unchanged from his days in Rent, is endearingly snarky as the crusading Lucas, and his rapport with Menzel clearly benefits from the pair's long off-stage history.  Lucas, established early on as bisexual, gets a boyfriend named David (Jason Tam) in one storyline, allowing Rapp to show a more vulnerable, playful side that results in some of the show's most heartwarming moments.  LaChanze, all sass and gutso as the out and proud lesbian Kate, wins the audience over by the sheer force of her personality in the same way her character does (Kate is constantly referring to her "dear friends who she just met").  LaChanze also has a dynamite duet with Jenn Colella as Kate's partner Anne, with Colella providing the most unexpectedly thrilling vocal pyrotechnics of the night.  There is also strong support provided by James Snyder as Josh and Jerry Dixon as Stephen, the main love interests for Liz and Beth respectively.

Michael Greif's staging keeps the show moving at a brisk pace, helping to cram a remarkable amount of story into the two and a half hour runtime.  Greif isn't always successful at clarifying the busy narrative, but it certainly isn't from lack of trying, and he does as well as anyone could be expected to do given the same material.  He makes continually interesting use of Mark Wendland's multi-faceted set (which includes several catwalks, a mirrored ceiling, AND a turntable), and guides the entire cast through the mazelike plot with aplomb.  Emily Rebholz's costumes provide subtle but crucial hints as to which timeline any particular scene is set in, while remaining stylish and pleasing to the eye (something often taken for granted in contemporary-set shows that can all too quickly go awry in the wrong hands).

Ultimately, If/Then is the most artistically daring show to open on Broadway this spring, and although its ambition causes it to occasionally stumble, the show is more successful than many would have you believe.  Brian Yorkey's book tackles a lot of big issues with intelligence and humor, while still maintaining the depth of character needed to keep the show emotionally engaging.  Idina Menzel is positively radiant in the gargantuan dual roles of Beth and Liz (Broadway hasn't seen a star vehicle of this caliber in years), returning after a ten-year absence with a performance so assuranced it feels as if she never left.  Menzel has repeatedly stated in interviews she was waiting for a piece she felt strongly about for her Broadway return, and her belief in If/Then is certainly validated.  Rarely is a show this emotionally involving and intellectually stimulating, and anyone who claims to want originality on Broadway owes it to themselves to see this remarkable piece.

Close Enough to Heaven, Despite a Few Flaws

Review:  Far From Heaven

Kelli O'Hara has found her greatest role yet as a conflicted Connecticut housewife in Far From Heaven.  Note to producers:  Transfer please!!!

 

Every few seasons, a show comes along that boldly attempts to push the boundaries of what the American musical can be.  Challenging preconceived notions about form and content, these works compensate for any flaws through sheer ambition and invention, eschewing the song-and-dance routines of traditional musicals in favor of something more high-minded and weighty.  Far From Heaven, the new Scott Frankel/Michael Korie tuner currently playing a sold-out engagement at Off-Broadway’s Playwrights Horizons, is not a perfect show, but it is an endlessly fascinating examination of repressed feelings and forbidden love that is one final polish away from being a landmark musical event.

Based on the Oscar-nominated 2002 film of the same name, Far From Heaven tells the story of quintessential 1950s housewife Cathy Whitaker and the slow but inevitable collapse of her entire world.  The queen bee of Hartford, Connecticut, Cathy’s seemingly perfect life begins to unravel when she discovers that her husband has long struggled with a repressed attraction to other men.  At the same time, Cathy finds herself developing feelings for her kindly and unassuming black gardener in a time when such a relationship isn’t just uncommon but almost unthinkable.  Despite the seismic shifts occurring in her perfectly ordered world, Cathy struggles to keep up appearances and make sense of her ever-changing situation.

Like Frankel and Korie’s previous collaboration, the decades-spanning character study Grey Gardens, Far From Heaven is much more concerned with the subtle nuances of its characters’ emotions than with overblown shouting matches and volatile emotional breakdowns.  Initially this gives the evening a feeling of detached flatness, but as the show progresses and the layers are peeled away this separation morphs into an emotional realism that becomes the show’s greatest asset.  Despite being heavily musicalized and underscored, Heaven presents a wholly naturalistic world filled with characters as complex and conflicted as any real person, with a soul-stirringly beautiful score that far surpasses the pair’s already accomplished work on the aforementioned Gardens.  The songwriters’ use of character-specific themes and recurring motifs enriches the storytelling and provides subtle auditory clues about the characters’ emotional lives, and the music manages to be incredibly varied while simultaneously feeling entirely of one piece.  It is a dazzling display of musical mastery, sung to near-perfection by the supremely talented cast.

Anchoring the show with what is arguably the performance of her illustrious career, four-time Tony-nominee Kelli O’Hara is simply sublime as the vulnerable and slightly naïve Cathy.  O’Hara’s crystalline voice is so superb that you almost take it for granted, but in addition to her gorgeous tone the actress imbues ever note with a startling amount of emotional depth and intensity.  Her Cathy is definitely a product of her time, lacking the spine and inner resolve we’ve become accustomed to seeing in modern musical heroines, but rather than seeming weak this makes her all the more compelling.  She doesn’t have the strength to tell off her antagonists in a triumphant public spectacle, but like many real women she quietly soldiers on in the face of adversity while only allowing herself a few stolen moments to really come to terms with her grief.  Rather than being an idealized version of us, Cathy is us, with all the attendant foibles and momentary lapses in judgment, which simultaneously makes her more relatable and helps bridge the vast gap between her conservative mid-century reality and our own.

As her husband Frank, Steven Pasquale brings a rich baritone and deeply conflicted emotions to his role as a closeted homosexual.  The show is understanding of Frank without excusing him from his mistakes, including his continual lying about his whereabouts and the emotional abuse he occasionally hurls at Cathy.  The character could use a tad more development in the writing, but Pasquale makes the most of what he is given, and is a welcome presence whenever he’s onstage.  Pasquale makes you understand why Cathy would want to try and salvage such a deeply broken relationship, and as her gardener Raymond Deagan the entrancing Isaiah Johnson makes it just as easy to understand why she would be drawn to someone society deems unworthy of her love.  Johnson’s chemistry with O’Hara is palpable, and the pair beautifully charts the development of Cathy and Raymond’s relationship from that of friends to the deeper but largely unexpressed love that overtakes them.  There is a quiet sincerity about their interactions that is all-too-rare on the musical stage, and their final scene together is one of the show’s most heartbreaking.

The supporting cast is equally impressive, especially Nancy Anderson as Cathy’s best friend and confidante Eleanor Fine.  O’Hara and Anderson have a wonderfully believable friendship, and their voices sound particularly lovely when singing together.  Quincy Tyler Bernstine elevates her role as the Whitakers’ maid above that of archetype, displaying a fondness for Cathy and her children while maintaining a period-appropriate amount of emotional distance from them.  The only thing resembling a weak link in the cast is James Moye as Frank’s work buddy Stan, although the problem lies as much in the writing of the character as it does with Mr. Moye’s performance.

Director Michael Greif does a fine job with the show, although the admittedly challenging work does present the accomplished helmer with a few stumbling blocks.  Greif makes excellent use of the smallish Playwrights Horizons stage (aided immensely by Allen Moyer’s incredibly versatile and inventive set), but doesn’t quite nail the show’s delicate tone.  The acting is so subtle that it sometimes fails to read onstage, and yet Greif can be forgiven for not wanting to go too big with the characters’ emotions, as such a decision would destroy the nuance that makes the work so fascinating.  Greif has done an excellent job of providing the sideways glances and stern looks that help communicate just how scandalous Cathy and Raymond’s interracial friendship is to a modern audience, but much of that work is obscured by Kenneth Posner’s overly dark lighting design.  Thankfully the stage is still bright enough to see the period-perfect costumes by Catherine Zuber, whose work helps to fully transport the audience from 2013 New York to 1957 Connecticut.

Overall, any flaws in Far From Heaven (including bookwriter Richard Greenberg’s sometimes bland libretto) are vastly outweighed by its positives.  The show is one of the more complex relationship dramas to be musicalized, and the score by Frankel and Korie is positively enthralling.  The show has also gifted one of this generation’s greatest singing actresses with one of her greatest roles, and the show deserves a future life based on the strength of O’Hara’s performance alone.  Since no transfer has been announced and O’Hara’s impending pregnancy preclude the chances of the show being remounted anytime soon, any interested parties should definitely head over to Playwrights Horizons to catch this fascinating new musical before it ends its limited run July 7^th.  It’s much closer to musical theatre heaven than most shows ever get.

Everything is Bigger (and Better) in Texas

Review:  Giant

Giant stars Brian D'Arcy James and Kate Baldwin share an intimate moment.

 

Giant, the latest work by the prolific if not quite mainstream composer/lyricist Michael John LaChiusa, is by no means a perfect musical.  It struggles against the weight of its own ambition and the confines of the Public’s Newman Theatre, and yet remains thoroughly engaging for the majority of its three hour runtime.  Giant is theatrical proof of the old adage that those who shoot for the moon and miss still land among the stars, and for all of its flaws this fascinating show demands to be seen by any fan of serious musical theatre.

Based on the novel of the same name by Edna Ferber, Giant chronicles three decades of life on a sprawling Texas cattle ranch called Reata.  Jordan “Bick” Benedict is the proud owner of this enormous swath of land, and Giant begins with his whirlwind courtship and marriage to wealthy Virginian socialite Leslie Lynnton.  A stranger in a strange land, Leslie struggles to come to terms with her new surroundings and the husband she hardly knows, while Bick fights to prevent former ranch hand Jett Rink and his government backers from drilling for oil on the previously unspoiled land. 

Like any good epic, Giant features a host of interrelated subplots vying for the audience’s attention, and it must be noted that LaChiusa and librettist Sybille Pearson haven’t quite found the proper balance among the various storylines.  Certain characters and incidents seem superfluous when viewed in the context of the larger narrative, while other elements feel underdeveloped or completely forgotten.  While it’s difficult to pinpoint any one portion of the show in need of major rewrites, a series of minor edits and subtle tweaks in focus would result in a more cohesive and integrated whole.  Everything in this current incarnation is exceedingly well done, but it doesn’t always feel necessary, and as a result interest starts to flag over the course of the musical’s long length.

Thankfully, Michael John LaChiusa’s score is nothing short of brilliant. Rapturous, lush, and gloriously sung, LaChiusa’s sweeping melodies are the product of a master working at the height of his artistic prowess.  LaChiusa manages the difficult trick of writing songs that feel familiar but also unexpected, traveling through a host of musical genres while maintaining a tonal cohesion that keeps the entire score sounding like the a unified vision.  One song segues beautifully into the next, and when you least expect it LaChiusa seamlessly incorporates a recurrent motif without resorting to full-fledged reprises.  The music soars, with lyrics that are at once conversational and poetic, and it is almost impossible not to be swept away by the grandeur of it all.

While LaChiusa’s score is the show’s unabashed highlight, the musical’s large cast proves equally masterful.  Anchoring the show with the greatest performance of his career, Brian D’Arcy James plays family patriarch Bick with the best possible mixture of bravado and sensitivity.  He radiates love for both the land and his family, even if his rough and tumble upbringing doesn’t always allow him to express it fully.  James’ buoyant physicality and expressive face communicate volumes without speaking, and his nuanced delivery of the show’s many soaring anthems establishes such a strong connection with the audience that his presence is felt even when he isn’t onstage.

The ever-radiant Kate Baldwin similarly astonishes as Leslie, displaying an even greater amount of the star quality that netted her a Tony nomination in the recent revival of Finian’s Rainbow.  Her Leslie is a complicated creature torn between her love of Bick (and later, their children) and her dissatisfaction with the life and social mores of rural Texas.  Yet Baldwin never allows Leslie to wallow in self-pity, displaying the quiet strength and steely determination we’ve come to associate with the great Southern women of American literature.  She also sings like a dream, navigating the tricky demands of LaChiusa’s score with the assured ease of a master vocalist.

PJ Griffith does excellent work as the musical’s pseudo-antagonist Jett, embodying the Good Old Boy archetype with sincerity and style.  It’s unfortunate the show doesn’t quite know what to do with him, as Jett never really feels connected to the other characters or to the story in general despite amble stage time.  Bobby Steggert and Mackenzie Mauzy are quite charming as Bick and Leslie’s children, although again the show doesn’t make full use of the characters’ potential.  Katie Thompson’s Vashti Hake Snythe has an even more tangential relation to the plot, but the commanding actress emerges as one of the evening’s highlights thanks to several outstanding solos.  The only person resembling a weak link is Michelle Pawk as Bick’s elder sister Luz Benedict, but after struggling with her first solo the actress recovers nicely.

Director Michael Greif and set designer Allen Moyer have done an excellent job squeezing this sprawling show into the relatively modest confines of the Newman Theatre, although their inventiveness only goes so far.  Creating a second level onstage to house the orchestra is a clever idea, although Greif’s insistence on placing some of his actors up there muddies the effect by bringing more focus to the already prominent musicians.  Moyer’s attempts at sweeping Texas vistas don’t quite read as such given the shallow stage, although the excellent lighting by Kenneth Posner goes a long way toward helping evoke the open sky.  Overall, the show looks lovely, even if the self-editing necessitated by the theatre’s size constraints is a little too apparent.

Giant is easily the most ambitious new musical of the season, and for that it must be commended.  Ferber’s novel was clearly a tough nut to crack, and the fact that the show does so much so well is a testament to the skill of all involved.  A top-notch cast and stunning score by LaChiusa make this an extremely rewarding show for theatre aficionados, and anyone with the slightest interest in Giant should make a point to see it before it closes this weekend.  Hopefully some adventurous producer will pick up the show for a Broadway transfer, as a larger theatre and one final round of revisions would make this one of the truly great musicals of the past 15 years.  But even in its current incarnation, this is a show that demands to be seen, and a shining example of the artistic heights the modern musical can achieve.