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.

Art Isn't Easy, as Middling "Sunday" Revival Proves

Review: Sunday in the Park with George

Jake Gyllenhaal and Annaleigh Ashford in the Broadway transfer of City Center's Sunday in the Park with George.

Confession time: Despite Stephen Sondheim being arguably the most accomplished composer/lyricist the musical theatre has ever seen, his Pulitzer Prize-winning Sunday in the Park with George has never been a favorite of mine. I find the show, like its protagonist, to be distant and emotionally inaccessible, preventing me from forming much of a connection with it. In a sense, that is a compliment, as it proves Sondheim and librettist James Lapine were entirely successful at presenting their complicated lead as others view him, but it also an obstacle productions of the show must overcome to allow audiences to experience the full weight of what it has to say. And unfortunately, this latest Broadway revival fails to fully clear that hurdle, resulting in a somewhat cold, clinical examination of art and relationships when a more deeply felt one would be preferable.

For those unfamiliar with Sunday, the first act follows post-Impressionist painter George Seurat as he creates his pointillist masterpiece A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. The largely fictional narrative imagines lives and backstories for the figures observed in the painting, and posits that the most prominent figure in the work is George's muse and lover (cheekily named Dot). The second act jumps forward 100 years and checks in on George's great grandson - also named George - as he struggles to push the boundaries of art in the modern world, just like his namesake.

The show, like the painting which inspired it, is a series of specific and seemingly unrelated vignettes that when taken as a whole forms something new, a carefully drawn character study as well as a mediation on the often misunderstood existence of artists and other creative types. Essays have been written about Sondheim's use of short, staccato phrases and underscoring to imitate the precise, driven brushstrokes Seurat used to paint A Sunday Afternoon, and the music does hold a great deal of beauty and feeling for those who can adjust to its unconventional form. And Lapine's seemingly sparse libretto contains a great many interesting ideas and surprisingly tight plotting, although it is not the crystal clear juggling of multiple storylines he created for his next collaboration with Sondheim, the more accessible and perennially popular Into the Woods. While Sunday in the Park may not be my favorite Sondheim, it is undeniably a well-made musical.

So if the problem isn't the script, then what keeps this production (which began life as a one night only gala concert for the esteemed City Center Encores series) from reaching the artistic heights it so clearly aspires to? The unfortunately blunt answer is casting, with Jake Gyllenhaal and Annaleigh Ashford failing to provoke much emotion either separately or together. While any George and Dot would struggle to step out of the long shadow cast by the show's original leads, the incomparable Mandy Patinkin and Bernadette Peters, Gyllenhaal and Ashford display a surprising lack of chemistry that greatly hinders this production.

Ashford in particular feels miscast, her Dot lacking the emotional transparency and zest for life to properly counter George's introverted nature. For an actress who has repeatedly shown a gift for comedy, Ashford lands very few of Dot's copious jokes, and comes across as more of a petulant child than an ignored woman who demands our sympathy. It also must be mentioned that Sondheim's admittedly difficult score is a poor fit for Ashford's voice, which here lacks power and sometimes even coherence (several lyrics sound garbled). This is surprising for a production that began life as a concert, but could be forgiven if Ashford's acting was more interesting; despite several emotionally complex, musically exciting solos, you don't ever feel like you have a good handle on what's going on inside Ashford's head. In the actress' defense, she does an excellent job of playing the aging Marie (Dot's daughter and George #2's grandmother) in the second act, and her "Children and Art" is one of the few genuinely moving moments in the show.

Gyllenhaal fares better as George, where a generally impenetrable countenance is more appropriate to the character. For an actor without much musical background he is a surprisingly confident singer, although the upper notes of George's songs do seem to be a strain. And it must be noted that Gyllenhaal fails to find the full depth of emotion in the score's most famous tune, "Finishing the Hat." In the show the song functions as the one real opportunity for Seurat to show the complex well of feelings boiling just beneath the surface, and in the hands of the right actor can be a revelatory showstopper. Gyllenhaal's rendition doesn't really rise above competent, and neither does his climatic duet with Ashford near the show's end, "Move On."

Not all blame can be laid on the feet of the actors, however. Director Sarna Lapine (the niece of librettist and original director James Lapine) doesn't do anything particularly interesting with the staging, and seems at different points oddly beholden or suspicious of the original production. She retains the idea of Dot "stepping out" of her dress during the title song - here accomplished by Ashford removing an overlay in an unnecessary bit of stage business - but seems incredibly hesitant to actually recreate the painting for the final tableau of Act I, something essentially demanded by the text. Lapine also hasn't done much to shape her actors' performances, contributing to the disconnected feel of the entire evening.

There are a great many past Tony winners and nominees rounding out the supporting cast, none of whom are given a whole lot to do in what is essentially a two-character drama with interludes. Both the performers and the director seem much more comfortable with the show's second act, but without the foundation laid by the first half many of the second's emotional beats ring false. Ultimately, this production of Sunday in the Park with George registers as more of an intellectual exercise than an emotional one, something that properly cultured people "should" see but won't necessarily enjoy. To paraphrase one of the show's lyrics, there are worse things than spending time with this George, but there are also significantly more entertaining options as well.

Old-Fashioned Comfort

Review: Holiday Inn

Corbin Bleu, Lora Lee Gayer, and Bryce Pinkham lead the cast of Holiday Inn at Studio 54. Not clearly pictured: fabulous Easter bonnets!

Holiday Inn is a curious concoction of a show. Pointedly subtitled The New Irving Berlin Musical, this old-fashioned musical comedy has never been seen onstage before but is adapted from a relatively well known 1940s movie musical. That Golden Age Hollywood pedigree proves both a blessing and a hindrance for the show, which is a refreshing throwback to the musicals of yesteryear that also highlights some of the storytelling shortcomings of the era. But those who can look past the plot contrivances and focus on the joyously staged musical numbers will find plenty to love in Roundabout Theatre Company's latest Broadway production, one of their rare forays into the world of "original" musicals.

The titular Holiday Inn is a converted farmhouse that only hosts guests on holidays, giving patrons a one night only musical extravaganza themed to the date's festivities. It is operated by Jim Hardy, a former entertainer and songwriter who initially wanted to give up show business but hatched the idea as a way to pay the bills after a failed attempt at farming. Joining him on this endeavor are his best friend, famed dancer Ted Hanover, and local schoolteacher Linda Mason, who herself once had dreams of performing.

The biggest problem with Holiday Inn's new book by Gordon Greenberg and Chad Hodge is that it takes an inordinately long time to set all this up. The creation of the Holiday Inn feels like the inciting incident of the story, but doesn't occur until at least 45 minutes into the show. The time before then is spent attempting to develop the characters and their backstory, which is admirable and yet misguided for this type of breezy musical comedy. The entertaining yet awkwardly slotted production numbers of the first half hour seem to suggest the bookwriters also don't trust their characters to hold the audience's attention, attempting to keep the energy up with multiple big dance sequences set to Irving Berlin's timeless tunes.

As with many musicals from the 1940s and 50s, the plot of Holiday Inn is secondary to the musical numbers and doesn't hold up to much scrutiny. The tension mostly stems from Jim Hardy's stubborn selfishness, and yet we are obviously meant to empathize with him as the kindhearted everyman. Many character actions are obviously motivated by the need to set up the next musical number, with several secondary characters disappearing and reappearing as needed with little explanation. The show's attempts at more weighty emotional stakes also fall flat, as there is never any real question about how the love triangle between the three leads will turn out. And yet it feels unfair to judge Holiday Inn too harshly for these structural faults, as it has no pretensions of being Shakespeare (or to use a more appropriate musical theatre reference, Sondheim).

In fact, the incredibly engaging cast and cavalcade of top notch production numbers override any narrative misgivings one might have. Bryce Pinkham brings the same easygoing charm to Jim Hardy as he did to the rakish Monty Navarro in the Tony-winning A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder. Corbin Bleu proves to be a consummate song and dance man, endowing Ted Hanover with charisma and star quality to spare. Lora Lee Gayer exhibits a refreshingly modern, self assured take on the classic ingenue archetype, while also managing to sneak in some subtly hilarious bits of sardonic humor. And Megan Lawrence is a reliably hilarious standout as Louise, the inn's caretaker and Jim Hardy's confidante.

But the real stars of Holiday Inn are choreographer Denis Jones' glittery musical numbers, sharply executed with an abundance of wit and charm. Expertly danced by one of the most appealing ensembles on Broadway, Jones' dances cover a wide array of period-appropriate styles and moods, with just enough modern razzle dazzle thrown in to hold the interest of contemporary audiences. Jones makes particularly clever use of the ensemble women during Ted's "You're Easy to Dance With" at the top of Act II, and stages a rousing patriotic spectacle for the inn's Fourth of July spectacular (including a fantastic tap showcase for Bleu). Most impressively, he has created a showstopper in the truest sense of the word for "Shaking the Blues Away," a glorious Christmas-themed extravaganza that sees Lawrence's Louise leading the entire ensemble in an athletic, multi-part tap marathon which culminates in some truly jaw dropping tricks involving a lot of garland. The number brings the house down and practically justifies Holiday Inn's existence on its own.

The show's holiday pastiches are greatly helped by Alejo Vietti's non-stop parade of themed costumes. Whether Vietti has the ensemble decked out in Thanksgiving themed leotards with accompanying turkey tails, red-white-and-blue striped nautical outfits, or the most glorious Easter bonnets seen on Broadway in quite some time, the costumes never look less than stunning. The production is also blessed with one of the most elaborate sets in Roundabout's history courtesy of Anna Louizos, all lovingly lit by Jeff Croiter. And bookwriter Gordon Greenberg pulls double duty as the production's director, keeping everything moving at a pace fast enough that you don't have time to focus on the structural flaws without ever having the show feel rushed.

In a world increasingly rife with political and social turmoil, it's nice to have a lighthearted musical like Holiday Inn around to keep the mood festive. Irving Berlin's timeless melodies reaffirm his position as one of the great American songwriters, and form the backbone to a series of wonderfully entertaining production numbers choreographed by Denis Jones. The hardworking, immensely appealing cast wins you over even when their material is less than stellar, and only the most curmudgeonly on audience members won't find at least something to enjoy. Like most actual holidays, the deeper feelings behind Holiday Inn may get glossed over in favor of festive spectacle, but that's part of the appeal.

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.

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).

The Best Shows of 2015: Part II

With the impending arrival of 2015, it's time to take a look back at the year that was and assess some of the highlights of the year in theatre. I've already shared 5 of my Best of 2015 picks in my previous post, and today it is time to reveal my picks for the Top 5 shows of the past calendar year. As always, this list is limited to productions which officially opened in 2015 and which I actually saw, so think of it more as a personal favorite list rather than a definitive ranking.

Without further ado, here are my favorite theatrical experiences of 2015!

5) Honeymoon in Vegas

Rob McClure (center) and the cast of Honeymoon in Vegas

Jason Robert Brown just can't seem to catch a break when it comes to his Broadway shows. Just like the criminally ignored Bridges of Madison County (my absolute favorite show of 2014), Honeymoon in Vegas was another stellar musical that just couldn't find an audience. Brown's first attempt at full blown musical comedy, this delightful Vegas-set tale featured a brassy, big band score and the kind of witty, tongue-twisting lyrics the composer is known for. The cast was first rate, especially Rob McClure and Brynn O'Malley as the romantic leads, so I couldn't begin to tell you why the well-reviewed show didn't do better at the box office. Maybe it was the prolonged two-month preview period, which made the show seem like old news by the time it opened in mid-January. Maybe it was the presence of Tony Danza in the cast, which many people seemed to mistake for stunt casting even though the TV star actually turned in a rather appealing performance. Thankfully the show received a cast album, and I suspect that like many of Brown's other works this is a show that will be discovered and cherished by many musical theatre fans for years to come.

4) The Color Purple

Jennifer Hudson leads the cast of The Color Purple in a rousing rendition of "Push Da Button."

There are many reason to praise God for John Doyle's absolutely stunning revival of The Color Purple, but perhaps the biggest blessing of this scaled back version is it has allowed critics to see what I saw while rushing the original Broadway production 10 years ago: The Color Purple is a superbly written emotional sucker punch of a show, a harrowing but ultimately joyous celebration of life and overcoming adversity. This production also finally brought Jennifer Hudson to Broadway, something we've all been waiting for since her Oscar-winning turn as Effie White in the Dreamgirls film. And while Hudson is excellent, the talk of the town is sure to be British newcomer Cynthia Erivo, who blows the roof off the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre as the beleaguered Miss Celie. Erivo inhabits the role with a commanding stage presence that far exceeds her diminutive frame, and her powerhouse voice turns mere songs into soul rattling epiphanies set to music. Even if the rest of the production was garbage, this Color Purple would be worth seeing for Erivo alone. The fact that the rest of the cast often matches her awe-inspiring commitment and intensity makes this easily one of the best shows of the year.

3) The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Michael Arden and Ciara Renee in Paper Mill Playhouse's The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

The best Disney Theatrical show I've ever seen didn't even make it to New York, instead playing across the river in New Jersey's Paper Mill Playhouse. The long-rumored stage adaptation of Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame took the most problematic film of the studio's Animation Renaissance and de-Disneyfied it, returning to the darker, more melancholy tone of Victor Hugo's original novel. This approach made all the difference, resulting in a decidedly adult show that didn't shy away from the nastier implications of this Parisian-set tragedy. In providing the villainous Claude Frollo with more morally complex, clearly defined motivations, he actually emerged as an even more monstrous and menacing villain than the cartoonishly evil character in the film (a quality augmented by Patrick Page's excellent performance). And let's not forget Michael Arden's wonderfully effective and thrillingly sung take on the title character, nor Ciara Renee's beguiling gypsy Esmeralda. I ultimately understand Disney's decision not to move the show to Broadway (it is not one of the family-friendly spectacles the company has become known for), but that doesn't lessen the sting of the show's all too brief run. I'm just glad I made the trek out to Jersey before it closed.

2) The King and I

Tony-winner Kelli O'Hara and Tony-nominee Ken Watanabe in Lincoln Center's The King and I. I'll say it again: TONY-WINNER KELLI O'HARA!

Simply glorious. That's the best way to describe the absolutely transcendent Lincoln Center Theatre production of Rodgers and Hammerstein's The King and I, one of the most lavishly produced and lovingly crafter musical revivals I've ever seen. From the second the radiant (now Tony-winner!) Kelli O'Hara makes her entrance on the imposing prow of her ship to the final tableau of Anna and the King of Siam surrounded by the next generation, this expertly handled production remains riveting throughout its three hour runtime. Director Bartlett Sher's genius lies in his ability to radically alter the way a show is performed without appearing to do anything at all, to the point where you leave the theatre convinced his take on the material is what the authors had always intended. This King and I functions as both a family friendly musical entertainment and a highly complex character drama, directly tackles issues such as female empowerment and the nature of rule while providing all the eye-popping visuals audiences have come to expect in a modern musical. Anchoring it all is O'Hara and the supremely talented cast, which also includes the hypnotic Ruthie Ann Miles as the King's primary wife, Lady Thiang. This is as good a production of the Rodgers and Hammerstein classic as we're ever likely to see, and it will hopefully run for a good long while.

1) Hamilton

You know your show has a devoted following when a minor character like Peggy Schuyler (who has maybe 10 lines total) has her own rabid fanbase.

How could anything but Hamilton top my list of 2015's best shows? Lin-Manuel Miranda's hip-hop magnum opus has dominated Broadway websites for the better part of the year, while also crossing over into pop-culture in a way few musicals ever do. Yet the reason Hamilton tops my personal list is not its record-breaking financial success, nor its near ubiquity in the theatrical conversation. The show earns the title of Best Show of 2015 due to the fact that when you strip away all the hype, you are left with a near-perfect piece of theatrical writing, brazenly adventurous and yet hugely respectful of all that has come before. The score is a compulsively listenable work of genius, instantly captivating and yet so richly nuanced that new surprises reveal themselves with each repeated hearing. The cast is simply astounding, from Miranda's commanding performance in the title role to Leslie Odom, Jr.'s star making turn as Aaron Burr to the scene stealing Daveed Diggs in the dual roles of the Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson. And let's not forget Phillipa Soo's deeply felt performance as Eliza Hamilton or Renee Elise Goldsberry's revelatory (and Tony-worthy) work as Eliza's sister Angelica. Everyone from the top billed stars to the ensemble - one of the hardest working group of dancer/singers on Broadway - give 110% from start to finish, executing Thomas Kail's brilliant staging and Andy Blankenbuehler's hard-hitting choreography flawlessly. Do whatever you have to secure a ticket and witness theatrical history being made, as Hamilton may well prove to be the Best Show of the Decade.


And that wraps up my look back at the Best Shows of 2015. Looking back, the breadth of the type of shows which have been produced, and their artistic daring, gives me great hope for the future of the industry. This is a year where producers took some major risks, and many of them paid off not only artistically but commercially. An intimate musical about a lesbian coming to terms with her closeted father won the Tony and turned a profit, and a hip-hop musical with a multi-ethnic cast has become the most critically and commercially successful musical in years. Here's hoping for a 2016 that is equally varied and artistically ambitious, and be sure to keep checking Broadway Etc. for coverage of all the latest and greatest the New York theatre scene has to offer.

Happy New Year!

The Best Shows of 2015: Part I

Despite the unseasonably warm weather New York City has been experiencing, it is in fact the end of December. With the new year just around the corner, it is time for me to look back and select my 10 favorite shows of 2015. The qualifications for making this list are simple: the production must have had its official opening night during the 2015 calendar year, and it must have been seen by yours truly. That means that certain praised productions are automatically ineligible, and therefore this should by no means be viewed as a comprehensive/final judgment on the quality of all theatre that happened this year.

With those caveats in place, here are 5 of the productions I enjoyed the most this year, with my Top 5 selections to follow in the next post:

10) Dames at Sea

Eloise Kropp and Cary Tedder dancing up a storm in Dames at Sea.

Given the lukewarm reviews and positively abysmal box office, I am clearly in the minority when it comes to my enjoyment of the first Broadway mounting of the 40-year-old Dames at Sea. And to be fair, I understand where a lot of the most common critiques of the show are coming from. It is unfailing earnest, often to the point of ridiculousness, but that's kind of the point. I think the problem with Dames is that it's spoofing a genre (1930s movie musicals) that isn't really in the public consciousness anymore, which automatically makes it feel dated and irrelevant to many. But that perception does nothing to take away from the polish and professionalism with which the cast delivers the delightfully daffy material, or the gee whiz excitement of seeing director/choreographer Randy Skinner creates some of Broadway's most thrilling tap routines with just 6 superbly dancers. And it certainly doesn't undermine the sheer comic brilliance of Lesli Margherita's performance as Mona Kent, whose work as a demanding diva is one of the most consistently hilarious performances of the year. Anyone with the slightest inclination to see the show should really make the effort to get out to the Helen Hayes Theatre before the final curtain falls this Sunday; you won't be disappointed.

9) Spring Awakening

Daniel N. Duran and Krysta Rodriguez in Deaf West's revival of Spring Awakening.

Unlike many people of my generation, I am not particularly enamored with Spring Awakening as a show. While the music has an undeniable if slightly repetitive beauty, once you get past the fact that such frank exploration of teenage sexuality is unusual in a musical the show really isn't saying anything all that insightful. And yet the current Deaf West revival of the 2007 Tony-winner is so viscerally impactful and unerringly gorgeous that a lot of the show's flaws fall away, leaving what may be the best possible version of the work. The addition of American Sign Language to the story creates an extra layer of purposeful abstraction that frees Spring Awakening from of the burden of being a book musical and turns it firmly into an expressionistic mood piece, a tonal shift that supports the script and music much better. You no longer have to intellectually understand what a "Mirror-Blue Night" is, because the accompanying visuals are so impactful they convey the feeling of that night for you. And when the cast of hearing and deaf actors comes together to sing/sign about how they're "Totally Fucked," even the most curmudgeonly of audience members will be right there with them, reliving the awkward frustration of their youth.

8) Fun Home

The cast of Fun Home on Broadway.

For me, Fun Home is actually a somewhat problematic production. All of the individual elements are stellar, from Jeanine Tesori's adventurous score to Lisa Kron's nuanced book to Sam Gold's first-rate direction. Then there are the first rate performances, which saw practically the entire cast nominated for Tony Awards and Michael Cerveris taking home Best Actor in a Musical for his revelatory, transformative performance as the protagonist's closeted gay father. And yet at the end of the evening, I wasn't nearly as moved as it seemed I should be. All of that said, I would be a fool to deny the artistic excellence of the production, to say nothing of its significance in the contemporary theatrical landscape. The show pushes the boundaries of what a commercial Broadway musical can be, tackling issues of sexuality and identity when they are at the top of the national consciousness while also providing a much needed, highly visible platform of the work of female writers. My heart of stone aside, the show certainly deserves all of the success it has found, and is definitely something any and all interested parties should check out.

7) The Iceman Cometh

Brian Dennehy and Nathan Lane in the BAM production of The Iceman Cometh.

Eugene O'Neill's The Iceman Cometh represents theatre at its most epic. This 4 act, nearly 5 hour long American tragedy is not for the faint of heart, requiring an extremely compelling and talented cast to maintain the audience's interest for the duration of its marathon runtime. This year's revival of the piece at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, starring Nathan Lane and Brian Dennehy, remained endlessly compelling right up to the bitter end thanks to the skill of the performers and the unwavering hand of director Robert Falls. While the entire ensemble was excellent, Lane and Dennehy were the standouts, with both actors at the top of their game and Lane in particular proving why he is one of the industry's most invaluable character actors. Lane's deeply felt portrayal of tragic jokester Hickey was an expertly handled balancing act between easygoing charm and frightening pathos, and should the briefly rumored Broadway transfer ever materialize it would almost certainly net the actor his 3rd Tony Award.

6) The Visit

The Visit on Broadway was every bit as bizarre as this picture suggests, and all the better for it.

By all rights, The Visit shouldn't exist. This problem-plagued musical, originally conceived as a vehicle for Angela Lansbury back in 2000 before being retooled for perpetual Kander and Ebb muse Chita Rivera, was revised multiple times following multiple out of town tryouts and false starts that continually delayed plans for a Broadway premiere. Add to the behind the scenes drama the seemingly off-putting subject matter (the world's richest woman returns to her hometown with two eunuchs in tow, offering to solve all the town's financial troubles in exchange for the execution of her former lover), and only a very brave group of producers would have even considered backing the eventual Broadway mounting. Thank goodness they did, for while the show failed to find any commercial success, it was so gloriously strange and surreal that it will certainly to stick with those lucky enough to see it for many years to come. Kander and Ebb's final score is not as instantly memorable as their work on Cabaret or Chicago but is their most artistically mature, and John Doyle's sparse production only sharpened and clarified the narrative's otherworldly feeling. Like Kander and Ebb's best work, The Visit refused to pander to its audience, instead consistently challenging its viewers while at the same time remaining decadently entertaining and thrillingly unpredictable.



Be sure to check back tomorrow for Part II of my list!

Loud, Boisterous, and Lacking Imagination

Review: Finding Neverland

Matthew Morrison (center) and the cast of Finding Neverland.

At one point during Finding Neverland, the bombastic new musical currently playing at the Lunt-Fontaine Theatre, a secondary character turns to the audience and clearly mouths, "What the f***?" This is supposed to be a comical rejoinder to author J.M. Barrie's fantastical description of the fictional world of Neverland, but also represents the most logical reaction to the spectacle-driven nonsense being presented onstage. The production is so busy trying to impress that minor annoyances like a coherent narrative and a well written score are left by the wayside to make room for more pomp and circumstance, resulting in a musical that fails to coalesce into more than the sum of its disjointed parts.

Based on the 2004 film of the same name, Finding Neverland centers on the creation of one of the most enduring children's tales in all of Western literature, Peter Pan. At the musical's start playwright J.M. Barrie is a well-established fixture of the London theatre scene, yet while his shows are still popular the general consensus is that his best work is behind him. While Barrie struggles to find inspiration for a play he can actually be proud of writing, a chance meeting with widow Sylvia Llewelyn Davies and her four rambunctuous boys reignites the imagination that has laid dormant inside Barrie for years. As the writer grows closer to Davies and her boys, he begins to shape the story that would become Peter Pan's adventures in Neverland, a play so different from London has ever seen that many doubt the show will work.

The understated charms of the film have been replaced here with the kind of pop-influenced histrionics that defined Broadway for a good deal of the 1990s, and the relatively slim narrative simply cannot support the added weight. It doesn't help that James Graham's book has  almost nothing to do with Gary Barlow and Eliot Kennedy's inoffensively generic songs, whose sole purpose appears to be providing a backdrop to the unneccesarily manic choreography by Emmy-winner Mia Michaels. None of the musical numbers succeed in illuminating character or conveying any emotion other than a vague desire to please, and even that is quickly drowned out by the overly applified orchestra that lords over the evening's proceedings. It's not that the songs are bad so much as they are unmemorable, to the point where the majority of them are forgotten by the time their final measure has ended.

There are glimmers of an interesting idea here and there in the book scenes, but Graham never adequately explores them. Several lines plant the seeds for the core concepts and story beats of Peter Pan, but Neverland never acknowledges this foreshadowing in anything other than a joking way. It would be much more satisfying to see Barrie actively latch on to these remarks about fairies, mermaids, and pirates to construct his story, but as written they seem like a bizarre coincidences rather than deliberately drawn parallels. The musical's first act finale centers around the idea that Barrie must embrace his dark side to give Peter Pan some much needed dramatic tension (and its famous villain, Captain Hook), but since Graham gives no indication Barrie has a dark side before or after this sequence it just seems like a manufactured plot point. The one thing Graham does spend an inordinate amount of time on is anarcharistic, tired meta jokes like having in-story actors ask "what's my motivation" or letting one of the overly precocious Davies boys ask if he'll receive any royalties for his contributions to Peter Pan.

It is frankly shocking that director Diane Paulus, who has helmed outstanding revivals of Hair, Porgy & Bess, and Pippin in recent years, allowed this kind of lowest common denomentator nonsense to take place under her watch. Paulus really should know better, and given her success at disguising the dramaturgical flaws of some of the previously mentioned musicals it is unnerving to see her put something so half-baked onstage. At the same time, Finding Neverland gives the impression that without Paulus at the helm it would be much, much worse, especially taking the aforementioned script issues into account. Without Paulus' bold, visually driven staging the show would be virtually unwatchable.

As is, the production is still difficult to stomach, as watching obviously talented individuals struggle to overcome material that does them no favors is never pleasant. Matthew Morrison gives a perfectly serviceable performance as J.M. Barrie, but is hampered by the lack of interesting material that actual explores the playwright's psyche. A consumate professional, Morrison hits all his marks, participates some rather physical staging and choreography, and sings with a pleasant baritone that does its best to inject emotion into the bland songs. At times Morrison appears to be marking things, although whether that's due to a disdain for the material or sheer exhaustion is difficult to tell (the character of Barrie rarely leaves the stage, so exhaustion is not out of the question).

Laura Michelle Kelly is suitably winsome as the widowed Sylvia, and her struggles with an unnamed illness (probably tuberculosis) bring Neverland as close to genuine drama as the show cares to get. Unfortunately, Barlow and Kennedy have chosen some rather dubious keys for Sylvia's big songs, and Kelly's generally lovely voice doesn't always agree with the notes it's being asked to sing. The role of Barrie's American producer Charles Frohman has since been taken over by Terrance Mann, but at the performance I saw Anthony Warlow did fine work in a role that is more plot device and joke delivery machine than actual character. Teal Wicks and Carolee Carmello are both wasted in underwritten secondary roles, and while the rest of the ensemble clearly has talent they spend so much time shamelessly mugging that they come across as rather obnoxious.

The physical production walks a fine line between ornate and garish, mostly sticking to the former. Suttirat Anne Larlarb's costumes are the most consistently appealing, utilizing a rich, jewel-toned color palate and just enough over the top details to establish a fantastical tone while maintaining a connection to the real world. Scott Pask's set mostly fades into the background, except for a strange clock motif which stands out because it isn't really referenced anywhere else in the design or the show's story.

Finding Neverland clearly wants to be everyone's new favorite musical, and judging by the audience reaction and the robust box office numbers it might even be succeeding. But don't let that fool you into thinking this is anything other than a by the numbers project that struggles and ultimately fails to overcome its pedestrian score and truly atrocious book. There is not enough pixie dust in the world to make Neverland fly, and no amount of stagecraft can disguise that fact. The only thing that takes the edge off a director as talented as Paulus helming something this awful is the knowledge that without her prodigious talents it would have been much, much worse.

Hamilton Takes His Shot, and It's a Bullseye

Review: Hamilton

Phillipa Soo and Lin-Manuel Miranda as Eliza and Alexander Hamilton.

 

There are many reasons why Hamilton is an historic, groundbreaking, and important show, the kind of genre-defining work of genius destined to be mentioned along with the likes of A Chorus Line and Rent as a musical that changed the definition of what was possible on the Broadway stage. But all of those reasons stem from the show's chief strength, which is the fact that it is quite simply an incredible achievement in musical storytelling. Lin-Manuel Miranda's hip-hop magnum opus manages to convey both the epic sweep of our country's history and the personal drama occurring in the lives of those who shaped it, distilling the ideals of the American Revolution down to their essence and presenting them in a package that is wildly unexpected and yet completely intuitive. Hamilton functions on so many levels simultaneously that it's somewhat mind-blowing, and yet the show is also one of the most accessible productions currently playing Broadway.

On its most basic level, Hamilton is the life story of Alexander Hamilton, the "Ten Dollar Founding Father" who came to America as an immigrant, helped usher it through the turmoil of the Revolution, and ultimately created the basis of the financial system that has allowed it to become one of the most prosperous nations in the world. But what makes the show so exciting, so viscerally engaging and interesting, is that it is about so much more than one man's life. It is about the very ideals our country was founded on, the same political and philosophical quandaries that trouble today's world leaders as much as they did the rowdy bunch of colonists who rebelled against England's rule in 1776. Hamilton doesn't just speak to how our country was then, but how it is now, a parallel made all the more apparent thanks to the wholly contemporary prism through which this story is presented.

Miranda's score is a work of unadulterated genius, fusing many disparate influences into a crystalized, coherent whole that is immediately engaging, emotionally appealing, and constantly surprising. Expertly crafted rap battles form the basis of political debate, a close knit group of sisters adopt the vocal stylings of a Destiny's Child-esque girl group, and jealous political rivals express their vaulting ambition in the form of hard hitting club thumpers. This throughcomposed work is filled with sly lyrical references to everything from contemporary politics to Rodgers and Hammerstein, all packaged into intricately rhymed passages so dense with meaning that repeated listening only reveals more and more layers of nuance. Yes, the show can be classified as a rap musical, but there are also soaring R&B ballads, tightly harmonized choral numbers, and enough subconscious-permeating melodic hooks that even the staunchest detractors of contemporary music will probably leave humming a bar or two.

Not only is Miranda's score exceptional - quite possibly the best theatrical writing of the new millennium - but his airtight plotting packs an astounding amount of detail into the show's never boring two hour and forty-five minute runtime. Miranda never sacrifices historical accuracy for narrative clarity, and the intercutting between Hamilton's personal life and the larger historical canvas is so deftly handled you'll never once question what's going on. The show was already remarkable during its Off-Broadway run earlier this year, but Miranda has used the time between the show's world premiere and Broadway bow to tighten the storytelling even further. Every minute of the production is not only necessary but also supremely interesting, with nary a wasted subplot or musical motif to be found.

While Miranda's writing pulses with a vivacious life all its own, the production's staging kicks things into overdrive. Director Thomas Kail and choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler work together so seamlessly their contributions look like the work of a single (supremely gifted) individual; Hamilton hits the ground running and only picking up steam from there. Dancers appear and disappear throughout David Korins' deconstructed wood and mortar set, and both Kail and Blankenbuehler make excellent use of the double turntable Korins has provided them. The actors rarely stop moving, and yet this never veers into manic or distracting territory thanks to the sheer inventiveness and unerringly dramatic composition of the evening's stage pictures. Coupled with Paul Tazewell's top notch riffs on eighteenth century clothing and Howell Binkley's *incredible* lighting design, the show is a sumptuous visual feast of intricate staging to rival anything Broadway has ever seen. (Tip: while the orchestra view is no doubt incredible, the full genius of Kail and Blankenbuehler's intricate formations and Tazewell's outstanding lights can only be fully appreciated from the mezzanine.)

And then there's the cast. This is the kind of supremely talented ensemble whose work is destined to become the stuff of theatrical legend, lead by Miranda's fearless performance in the title role. The composer-lyricist-actor acquitted himself very nicely Off-Broadway, but here he has taken things to the next level with his multi-faceted portrayal of the "young, scrappy, and hungry" Founding Father. Miranda perfectly captures the combination of charisma and outspokenness that made Hamilton such an influential figure in early US politics, and also demonstrates just enough personal arrogance that you understand why the author of the Federalist Papers provoked so much scorn among his political rivals.

Counterbalancing Miranda's fire is Leslie Odom, Jr.'s slow burn portrayal of Aaron Burr, the lawyer and politician who famously shot Hamilton in a duel. Odom, Jr. slinks in and out of the narrative during the show's first half, calmly collected while Hamilton's revolutionary fire makes the latter a natural center of attention. But behind Odom, Jr.'s smile is a growing hunger that glistens in his eyes as Burr watches Hamilton go on to greater and greater things, an ambition that boils over during the actor's full-throttle, showstopping performance of "The Room Where It Happens." Other actors portraying famous historical figures include Christopher Jackson as an imposingly dignified George Washington, Jonathan Groff hamming it up as the embittered and foppish King George III, and Daveed Diggs in a star-making dual turn as the showboating Marquis de Lafayette and legendary author of the constitution Thomas Jefferson.

While history is undoubtedly a boys' club, Hamilton still finds plenty of time to explore the women who exerted a huge amount of influence over the title character, specifically his wife Eliza and her sister Angelica Schuyler. Eliza is perfectly embodied by Phillipa Soo, who plays her with a convincing combination of girlish excitement and quiet strength. Soo's big moments come in the musical's latter half, when Hamilton and his family fall subject to the nation's first sex scandal and a heartwrenching personal tragedy; this is where the actress' carefully laid character work from her earlier scenes really helps to sell Eliza's anguish and inner resolve. And Renee Elise Goldsberry is a revelation as Angelica, with her performance of "Satisfied" ranking among the most blissful minutes of musical theatre perfection in the past ten years.

Much has been written about Hamilton in the past six months, to the point where it seems impossible the show could live up to the hype surrounding it. And yet even with the weight of overwhelming expectations upon it, Hamilton soars thanks to a fantastically talented collection of artists all working at the absolute pinnacle of their respective fields to tell a universally appealing story about men and women striving towards their ideals. The characters may falter, but Hamilton never does, making it the must-see theatrical production of the decade. At one point in the show, the Schuyler sisters sing, "Look around, look around/At how lucky we are to be alive right now." We are all lucky to live in a world where a work as daringly ambitious and wildly successful as Hamilton exists.

What She Did For Love

Review: The Visit

Chita Rivera is positively captivating as the mysterious, possibly malevolent woman at the center of Kander and Ebb's The Visit.

Octogenarian Chita Rivera returns to Broadway in the final collaboration between songwriting powerhouses John Kander and the late Fred Ebb, and the resulting production is the most bizarrely fascinating new musical of the season. Thrillingly theatrical and unapologetically boundary pushing, The Visit is a dark musical fable that slowly seeps under your skin, spellbinding in its sheer audacity and brazen subversion of expectations. A fitting end to one of the most legendary partnerships in musical theatre history, John Doyle directs the piece with a sublimely chilling efficiency that highlights the many pleasures of both the show and Rivera's star turn, which is yet another jewel in her vast crown of iconic performances.

Scott Pask's gorgeously decrepit scenic design instantly sets the mood for the dark, occasionally disturbing tale that follows, which finds the mysterious and ethereal Claire Zachanassian returning to her hometown after decades abroad. Now the world's wealthiest woman, Claire arrives with a butler and two blind eunuchs in tow, only to find the formerly prosperous town in economic ruin. Having heard of her impending arrival, the townspeople have gathered to beg Claire to use some of her vast fortune to restore the town's former glory, something she agrees to do provided certain conditions are met. The wealthy benefactor's ghastly demands shock the townspeople, hitting her former lover Anton particularly close to home.

Revealing too much more about the plot would spoil the surprise, so suffice it to say that Claire is not a woman to be trifled with. The more you learn about what she's done in her time away the more appalling she appears, and yet Kander, Ebb, and bookwriter Terrance McNally treat Claire not just with understanding but also genuine compassion. She has her reasons for what she's done, and it soon becomes clear that the townsfolk are no saints either, creating an excitingly complex web of moral ambiguity that sees the audience's allegiances shifting from moment to moment. The Visit explores several hallmarks of Kander and Ebb's long career, such as the easily corruptible nature of justice, society's habitual shirking of responsibility, and an unending compassion for the victims of civilization's flawed systems even when said victims have become rather unsavory people themselves.

Musically, The Visit is glorious and intoxicatingly dark. The songs aren't as catchy as the pair's most famous compositions (sadly, Mr. Kander has not provided us with a vamp as instantly memorable as the opening measures of Cabaret's "Wilkommen" or Chicago's "All That Jazz"), but they are hauntingly beautiful and a continual auditory treat. Over the course of its long development the show has been condensed down to one act from the original two, and occasionally you can see where McNally's book scenes were cut to allow more space for the score. The reduced length ultimately works tonally and structurally for the piece - there's not quite enough material to sustain two full acts - but certain scenes and characters would benefit from a little more exploration. McNally's ability to convey a large amount of exposition clearly and concisely is rather admirable, and the fact that he squeezes in enough character moments to keep the cast at least somewhat sympathetic should be commended.

Doyle keeps everything moving along at a fast clip, displaying such a firm understanding of the show's tone and themes that you never once feel confused or disoriented even when the specific details of the plot become hard to follow. His staging is starkly beautiful, augmented by Ann Hould-Ward's costumes and Japhy Weideman's exceptional lighting design. There is a wonderful simplicity to Doyle's work that feels anything but simplistic, and the director has enough trust in his audience and the material that he never succumbs to the urge to spell things out too clearly.

The cast is first rate, anchored by Rivera in a wonderfully layered performance that draws you in from the moment she appears. Few can command a stage the way Rivera does, looking positively regal with her white gown and perfectly poised posture. Not a single gesture or facial expression is wasted, and the actress radiates a mesmerizing mixture of calculated coldness and unbridled joy that is infectious. Her original leading man, Roger Rees, has unfortunately been sidelined due to health issues, but understudy turned replacement Tom Nelis does wonderful work as Anton. In many ways The Visit is as much Anton's story as Claire's, and the two veteran performers bring a wonderful amount of nuance to their onstage relationship.

The supporting cast is just as strong, stacked with so much talent it is almost an embarrassment of riches. As the phantoms of young Claire and Anton, Michelle Veintimilla and John Riddle are fantastically otherworldly and exceedingly well matched. As Anton's wife Matilde, Mary Beth Peil convincingly charts the host of reactions her character has to arrival of Claire and the revelations about her husband's past. Matthew Deming and Chris Newcomer make for pitch perfect eunuchs, simultaneously off-putting and transfixing. And Jason Danieley is sensational as the local schoolteacher who most opposes Claire's deal, delivering a spine-tingling and heart-wrenching rendition of the soaring "The Only One" two-thirds of the way through the evening.

It took a lot of guts to produce something as unflinchingly bizarre as The Visit on Broadway, and artistically that gamble has paid off in spades. Kander and Ebb's haunting final show is a fitting summation of their long career, one which has produced some of the most enduring and important works in the musical theatre cannon. John Doyle's visually captivating production does the material justice, and Chita Rivera proves that even at 82 she's still one of the most formidable singing actresses around. Anyone looking for a boundary pushing evening at the Broadway theatre need look no further, as this is a Visit well worth making.

'S Almost Wonderful

Review: An American in Paris

The cast of An American in Paris.

Adapted from the Oscar-winning film of the same name, the "new" Gershwin musical An American in Paris is perhaps the most dance heavy production to arrive on Broadway in years. Director/choreographer Christopher Wheeldon's gorgeous routines are executed to perfection by some of the finest dancers on the Great White Way, in a piece that often bears more resemblance to a performance at the New York City Ballet than it does to a traditional showtune-laden musical. Watching the supremely gifted cast spin, leap, and twirl about the stage, you can feel both the director and the performers striving to capture some grand universal truth about love and the human condition, which makes Paris' slight and emotionally uninvolving plot all the more disappointing by comparison. When the dancing ceases, so does the show's ability to engage, resulting in a musical that never quite achieves its full potential.

Set in Paris shortly after the end of World War II, the show opens with American soldier Jerry Mulligan purposefully missing his train home, opting instead to build a new life for himself in the City of Lights. He soon meets fellow American soldier (and budding composer) Adam Hochberg and the wealthy aspiring performer Henri Baurel, while also becoming instantly smitten with a mysterious young ballerina named Lise Dassin. What Jerry doesn't know is that Lise is promised to Henri and Adam is also madly in love with her, creating a complicated web of emotional entanglements as the group begins work on a new ballet starring Lise, composed by Adam, and designed by Jerry.

Craig Lucas' book has the veneer of sophistication but ultimately falters in both its plotting and character development. Many of the characters are two-dimensional beings with flimsy or ill-defined motivations, prone to faux profound observations on life and love. Several of them aren't even particularly likable, including protagonist Jerry, a relentless cad who persistently hounds Lise despite her repeated protestations until she finally relents and agrees to spend time with him. (When a female character tries to exact same tactic on Jerry later in the show, he is less than amused.) This trope of the dogged suitor eventually winning over the entirely uninterested girl is something that was both commonplace and acceptable when the film debuted in 1951, but for a musical created in 2015 it feels uncomfortably misogynistic and makes the central couple difficult to root for.

Lucas also has trouble integrating the musical numbers with the books scenes, with most songs seeming to come out of a desire to have more dancing than being justified by the needs of the characters and the plot. At the same time, it's hard to complain about being given more of the show's strongest suit, as Wheeldon's choreography is simply spectacular from beginning to end. Using Gershwin's glorious melodies as a jumping off point, Wheeldon creates the most complex and sophisticated choreography currently on Broadway. The former ballet dancer knows how to compose beautiful stage pictures using nothing more than the performer's bodies, and his intricate formations and sequencing make even the scene changes a glory to behold. Wheeldon also isn't afraid to abandon the singing and dialogue completely to tell a story solely through movement, which is when the show really takes flight. When the dancing ends and the dialogue resumes, you may find yourself thinking that this story would be more effectively told as a traditional ballet.

Making their Broadway debuts, ballet principals Robert Fairchild and Leanne Cope prove to be very capable actor/singers in addition to beautiful dancers, and the show smartly plays to their strengths. Both are innately charming performers that share an easygoing chemistry (even if Fairchild isn't *quite* charming enough to make you overlook or understand Jerry's character flaws), but it is during their many dance sequences that both truly come alive. Fairchild radiates joy and a quiet confidence as he leaps and bounds across the stage, and Cope's beautiful extensions and astoundingly fluid style make it almost impossible to take your eyes off her. Wheeldon's demanding choreography makes ample use of all his lead's many gifts, culminating in the titular "American in Paris" sequence that would be at home on any of the world's great ballet stages.

The supporting performances are generally solid, and become even more impressive when you realize how much material the actors are having to provide in order to make up for the lapses in Lucas' book. Brandon Uranowitz almost makes the lazy choice of having Adam narrate the evening's events in Jersey Boys-style monologues interesting, and Max von Essen is adorably unassuming as the soft spoken Henri. von Essen's big number "Stairway to Paradise" is when Paris bears the most resemblance to a traditional Broadway musical, and he sells it with such panache that you momentarily forget he isn't nearly as accomplished a dancer as most of his costars. Veanne Cox provides some of the evening's most genuine comedy with her dry, droll performance as Henri's mother, even though her character suffers the most from Lucas' underwritten book.

The show's minimalist design is starkly beautiful, with Bob Crowley's costumes and sets perfectly complimented by Natasha Katz's gorgeous lighting design. This is not a literal representation of Paris but a fantastical one, which perfectly compliments the show's stylized tone and many elaborate dance sequences. You may not remember much about the show's plot once it ends, but you will certainly remember the images it presents.

And that, in a nutshell, is the paradox of An American in Paris. While it's happening it makes a huge impression thanks to the strong visuals and charming performances, but as soon at it ends it's difficult to remember what seemed so entrancing about the show in the first place. Christopher Wheeldon has done a sensational job directing and choreographing, and the timeless Gershwin songs remain masterpieces of musical composition. But Craig Lucas' pedestrian book and the somewhat dated premise keep the show from feeling wholly relevant to a contemporary audience, which is a shame given the talent involved. Like the American of its title, this musical is something of a stranger in a strange land that manages to acquit itself rather well in spite of its differences.

Welcome to the Fun Home

Review: Fun Home

Beth Malone (left) as the fully grown Alison reflects on her younger self (Emily Skeggs) in the new Broadway musical Fun Home.

There's much to admire about Fun Home, Jeanine Tesori and Lisa Kron's daring new chamber musical currently playing Broadway's Circle in the Square Theatre. This intimate story of a lesbian cartoonist's coming of age and her complex relationship with her father tackles aspects of the human experience rarely portrayed onstage, and Tesori's bravura score and Kron's nuanced book push the boundaries of the musical form into interesting and even surprising new places. But the show falls just shy of taking flight thanks to a couple of misguided dramaturgical choices that may accurately reflect the protagonist's life but don't make for the most effective theatre.

Based on the graphic memoir of the same name, Fun Home follows Alison Bechdel at three different stages of her life (for those who are interested, this is the same Alison Bechdel who coined the famed Bechdel test to evaluate gender bias in fictional media). The eldest of three children, the headstrong Alison was raised by her actress mother and closeted gay father, who also served as director of the Bechdel Family Funeral Home. After struggling with her sexuality throughout her adolescent and young adult years, the now grown Alison returns to her family home to reminisce about her upbringing and try to find closure to her relationship with her now deceased father.

It is an intensely personal story, undermined by the fact that it too clearly telegraphs where it's headed. Alison spells out exactly what kind of man her father was within the first couple of scenes, and unfortunately nothing in the following 90 minutes broadens that description or deepens it. While observing Alison's interactions with her family at different stages of her life remains engaging, all the characters stay much the same as when we meet them, which robs the show of the thrill of discovery. There is a slight but crucial difference between watching characters go on a journey and taking that journey with them, and unfortunately Fun Home tends towards the former when it would be so much more affecting to do the latter. The most maddening thing is that by removing just a few lines of expository dialogue at the beginning, that sense of discovery could be restored and Fun Home would be one of the most emotionally stirring musicals in years. (Imagine if Next to Normal spelled out exactly what was going on with Diana and her family by its third song; the show would still be very good, but it wouldn't have the emotional impact which garnered it universal acclaim.)

That said, this slight but crucial mistake doesn't take away from the brilliance of much of the writing, even if it does dampen our emotional involvement. Tesori has written her most accomplished score to date, weaving a variety of styles and musical genres into a cohesive, stimulating whole. The repeated melodic motifs are smartly implemented, and there are times when the moment to moment writing is so strong it makes you momentarily forget that you've already been told where this is all headed. "Changing My Major" is the purest expression of the joy and terror of a first sexual encounter ever put on stage. "Ring of Keys" is a wonderfully pure portrait of a young girl first realizing she's different but isn't alone, with Lisa Kron's deceptively simple lyrics framing a bevy of deep observations in the voice of a 10 year old child. These introspective character songs are interspersed with comedy pastiches like the throwback "Come to the Fun Home" (hilariously performed by the three elementary age Bechdel children) or the Partridge Family-esque "Raincoat of Love."

Tesori's score meshes seamlessly with Kron's highly nuanced book, in which the dialogue scenes are more akin to something you'd see in a play than your typical musical. In a medium where most things are overtly stated, a lot of the most interesting moments in Fun Home focus on what's not being said. Kron's dialogue is naturalistic and yet specific enough to give scenes dramatic shape, and that voice carries over into her largely unrhymed lyrics, further contributing to the show's conversational feel. Kron also handles the framing device of adult Alison narrating her life with aplomb, providing enough thematic connective tissue to prevent the constant shifting of time periods from feeling chaotic or confusing. Like Tesori's music, Kron's book is at its weakest when it falls into the habits that characterize more traditional musicals, making something explicit when the authors and audience are smart enough to handle a more implicit approach.

The cast is uniformly strong, effortlessly navigating the musical's tonal shifts and unusually nuanced approach. Beth Malone has the central and often thankless role of the fully grown Alison, who narrates the evening's events and watches them unfold with the audience. Malone doesn't really get to interact with her fellow performers until she replaces her younger self during the climatic "Telephone Wire" scene, when all the simmering intensity of her performance finally boils over in a desperate plea to be heard. As the youngest version of Alison (dubbed Small Alison in the program), newcomer Sydney Lucas dazzles in a beautifully naturalistic performance. Her delivery of the aforementioned "Ring of Keys" is first rate, and Lucas' large and knowing eyes convey dozens of thoughts and feelings her character isn't quite sure how to express. And Emily Skeggs perfectly portrays Alison during her formative college years, capturing the yearning and passion of someone who has finally given themselves permission to be the person they always wanted to be.

Michael Cerveris does fantastic work as Alison's father Bruce, virtually disappearing inside his character's nebbish skin. Bruce is a complex, deeply conflicted man, who like his daughter is struggling to express himself in a world that isn't really ready to acknowledge him. Although he fits the distant father archetype, Cerveris makes it abundantly clear that Bruce loves his daughter and feels a particularly strong kinship with her, even if his own identity issues prevent him from adequately expressing that love. It's unfortunate we don't get more of Bruce's side of the story, although this makes sense given that the musical is told almost exclusively from Alison's point of view; she wouldn't be privy to the reasoning behind Bruce's choices, particularly given his untimely death. It's also unfortunate that Judy Kuhn as Alison's mother Helen is largely relegated to the sidelines in favor of the Alison/Bruce relationship. Not only is Kuhn's voice heavenly, but her expert handling of the wistful "Days and Days" late in the show really makes you wish she had more of a presence throughout.

Director Sam Gold has done an excellent job shepherding this material to the stage, including seamlessly adapting to the Circle in the Square's famed and often problematic in the round staging. You'd never know the show was originally mounted in a more traditional proscenium setting during its Off-Broadway run, which goes to show how thoroughly Gold and his design team have rethought their approach. David Zinn's set makes excellent use of the stage, and combined with Ben Stanton's lights really help define the somewhat nebulous playing space into distinct and recognizable areas. Zinn's costumes also perfectly capture the disco-era setting of most of the musical's action, with a mighty assist from hair and wig designer Paul Huntley's delightful 70s bobs.

Overall, Fun Home is an incredibly strong and at times provocative piece of theatre. It pushes the boundaries of the Broadway musical in both form and content, giving voice to a segment of the community that rarely sees themselves portrayed seriously and honestly onstage. And yet the lack of dramatic tension caused by so clearly laying out the show's plot in the opening moments keeps it from fully engaging on an emotional level, an incredibly frustrating situation given the obviously intelligent and talented artists involved. Fun Home definitely deserves to be seen, a very good show that doesn't quite achieve the greatness one would hope.