The Boy Who Lived, Now Thriving on Broadway

Review: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

The cast of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here He Is Boys, Here He Is World

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

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

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

The Play That Goes Wrong

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

Once On This Island

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

The Band's Visit

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

SpongeBob SquarePants

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

Frozen

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

Mean Girls (DC Tryout)

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


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

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

Review: Hello, Dollly!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Norma's Still Big, It's Just the Set That Got Small

Review: Sunset Boulevard

Michael Xavier as Joe Gillis and Glenn Close as Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard.

Of the many lovely moments in the current revival of Sunset Boulevard playing at the Palace Theatre, the one which best highlights this production's strengths occurs midway through the second act. While visiting the Paramount Studios lot, a spotlight hits faded silent film star Norma Desmond, embodied by a sensational Glenn Close reprising her Tony-winning performance. A glorious swell of music from the 40-piece orchestra accompanies the moment, before Desmond tentatively begins the show's signature ballad, "As If We Never Said Goodbye." Close masterfully builds the song over the course of the next 4 minutes, transporting audiences back to Desmond's glory days in a revelatory performance that rightly earns showstopping levels of applause. In the course of that one song, the full virtues of the scaled back physical production, increased orchestra size, and Close's near-legendary performance crystallize into musical theatre nirvana, a breathtakingly theatrical moment that is nearly worth the price of admission on its own.

If the rest of the show doesn't quite reach such dizzying heights, it is not for lack of trying. When Sunset Boulevard originally opened to a then-record breaking advance sale in 1994, the show won 8 Tony Awards due primarily to a lack of competition (the only other new musical of the season was the revue Smokey Joe's Cafe). For better and for worse, the show typifies composer Andrew Lloyd Webber's style, with an emphasis on lush melodies and almost through-composed scores that value big emotions over subtlety and nuance. Which makes director Lonny Price's decision to revive the show as a semi-staged concert which literally places the orchestra (and by extension the music) center stage a stroke of genius. Conductor Kristen Blodgette brings out an incredible amount of texture and sophistication from Webber's score, and hearing it performed live with such a large and accomplished group of musicians is a true joy. And while the book by Don Black and Christopher Hampton can come across as somewhat clunky, the sweeping melodies and grand scope of the music largely compensate for it.

The other smart decision in Price's staging is to pare things down to a minimal, unit set designed by James Noone. The original production famously lost money due in no small part to the exorbitant running costs incurred by its mammoth mansion set, which many felt distracted from the storytelling. By eliminating much of the technical wizardy, Price allows the story to take center stage, giving its themes about the addictive and destructive nature of fame more room to breath. The human story of struggling writer Joe Gillis getting pulled into Norma Desmond's delusions of grandeur is plenty interesting on its own, and not being distracted by giant sets helps keep the focus where it ought to be. (Tracy Christensen and Anthony Powell's costumes provide a suitable level of grandeur for this tale of fame and excess.)

The amount of gravitas Close brings to the role of Desmond cannot be overstated, anchoring the production with her utter believability and unparalleled command of her craft. From the moment she makes her entrance at the top of the show's grand staircase, it is clear you are in the presence of a star. Norma's first big number describes how in her heyday, the silent screen actress could hold an audience captive "With One Look;" Close can and repeatedly does do the same, capturing Norma's oversized nature without descending into camp. She is convincingly, compelling unhinged, but there is a tragedy to her Norma that in glimpsed during her repeated fits of melancholy, such as a devastating scene towards the end of Act I where she fears Joe will abandon her. Close's ability to act through song also more than makes up for any difficulties she might have with Webber's admittedly challenging score, and she still has the big money notes when it counts.

Close's three costars, all reprising their performances from the West End staging of this production, are quite strong as well. Michael Xavier makes for an excellent Joe Gillis, functioning as our entryway into Norma's world and sharing the audience's mix of incredulity and fascination. His scenes with Close form the backbone of the narrative, and they all sparkle with a mesmerizing push and pull between attraction and revulsion. Siobhan Dillon is fantastic as young Betty Schaeffer, the studio assistant who finds herself falling for Joe even while he becomes a kept man at Norma's mansion. And Fred Johanson is suitably imposing as Norma's unerringly loyal butler Max, a foreboding presence with a gloriously rich bass voice and eyes which are deep pools of unspoken emotion.

Ultimately, this Sunset Boulevard makes a strong case for the show being one of Lloyd Webber's more compelling works, adding a layer of narrative depth to his typically lush, ballad-heavy compositional style. Price's direction and minimalist staging keeps the focus on the music and the story, allowing the show to feel personal despite the inarguable bigness of many of the musical numbers. The cast is quite strong, with Glenn Close in particular offering the kind of performance that Broadway legends are made of. This staging doesn't quite overcoming some of the shortcomings of the show's book, but as long as Close is onstage supported by that massive orchestra, you aren't likely to care.

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.

Deep Beneath the City, Lives are "In Transit"

Review: In Transit

The cast of In Transit.

While musical theatre has always been a collaborative art form, seeing four credited writers on the new a cappella musical In Transit does raise the fear that too many cooks will spoil the proverbial broth. Thankfully, like the artful vocal arrangements that permeate the show, the varied sensibilities of the show's writing team seamlessly blend into a harmonious whole, creating a vibrant and exciting tapestry that mimics the hustle and bustle of the New York City subway system.

In Transit follows the interconnecting lives of various New Yorkers trying to find their footing in a city that can seem overwhelming and uncaring, but is also alive with an unending supply of hopes and dreams. There's Jane, the 30-ish actress working a temp job while still pursing her big break. And Nate, an ex-finance guy who has gone from the lavish excesses of Wall Street to struggling to make ends meet. Trent and Steven are a loving gay couple trying to figure out how to break the happy news of their engagement to Trent's conservative mother. And poor Ali is struggling to move on with her life after being dumped by the guy she relocated across the country for.

Anyone who has been young in New York will instantly recognize these people, connecting with their plights in ways that may be uncomfortably real at times. Creators Kristen Anderson-Lopez, James-Allen Ford, Russ Kaplan, and Sara Wordsworth - who jointly share the book, music, and lyric credits - imbue each character with recognizable foibles and that peculiar mix of gumption and slight delusion necessary to survive in the Big Apple. The network of connections between the characters (Trent is Jane's agent, who begins dating Nate, who is Ali's brother) never feels forced, especially since the real New York is a city of equally convoluted relationships. You get the distinct impression that every character in the show is based on either a member of the writing team or one of their close friends, lending everyone a truthfulness that is refreshing in a sometimes stilted medium. These characters are neither living out Cinderella-style fantasies nor Shakespearean tragedies, but a charming blend of big and small victories and defeats that defines city life.

The show's book is heavy on NYC references, giving it a charming specificity which may also limit its appeal. Even among New Yorkers, more recent city transplants might not understand the special place Dr. Zizmor holds in long-time residents' hearts, or exactly why Trent and Steven are busy on the last Sunday in June. But even if the specifics confuse the tourists that have become Broadway's lifeblood, the character's emotions are universal and remain crystal clear throughout. For a show written by four people, everything feels remarkably of the same voice, with more unity and cohesion than some shows with writing teams half the size. The intermissionless 100 minutes does feel a tad long, and the narration provided by a subway denizen known only as Boxman seems extraneous, but overall In Transit is solidly constructed from beginning to end.

The a cappella score is similarly impressive, covering a wide range of musical styles and genres while maintaining a cohesive sound. Deke Sharon, the prolific a cappella arranger most famous for his work on the Pitch Perfect films, perhaps plays things a tad too safe with his choices, but there is a fullness to his work which really helps the score sing. The songs are well written, catchy, and expertly convey the uncertainty but growing maturity of your late twenties/early thirties.

The cast is brimming with talent, producing a cadre of fine performances with nary a clunker in the bunch. Margo Seibert is positively winsome as Jane, who is slowly realizing her big break may never come but also refuses to let the pressures of the real world totally snuff out her showbiz dreams. Justin Guarini and Telly Leung are both quite affecting as Trent and Steven respectively, with Guarini's late in the game performance of the song "Choosing Not to Know" perhaps the show's most touching moment. James Snyder takes the least sympathetic character of the bunch, obnoxious Wall Street broker Nate, and believably humbles him throughout the evening as he struggles to get back on his feet. Erin Mackey is charmingly neurotic as Ali, and big-voiced Moya Angela makes quite the impression in multiple roles, particularly during her rousing rendition of "A Little Friendly Advice," which will have you cheering even if the song's sentiment seems designed to make you uncomfortable.

Everything is kinetically staged by three-time Tony-winner Kathleen Marshall, whose choreographic background helps keep all the bodies moving in interesting ways even if the amount of pure dance is minimal. She makes excellent use of Donyale Werle's subway platform set, which is bisected by a conveyor belt which doubles as the subway train and a handy way to move the various set pieces on and off the stage. Everything is gorgeously lit by Donald Holder, and while the contemporary setting doesn't give costume designer Clint Ramos much chance to show off he does manage to sneak in a gloriously whimsical dress made entirely from Metrocards.

One hopes that the Great White Way can continue to support shows like In Transit, which in its own way manages to be somewhat revolutionary in both form and subject matter. There are plenty of shows about idealistic youths pursuing their dreams, and perhaps even more about disillusioned forty and fifty-somethings, but In Transit tackles the often underrepresented period between those two dramatic goldmines. Solidly constructed, lovingly staged, and expertly performed, In Transit is the kind of delightful mid-sized musical Broadway could use more of.

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.

A First Rate Revival of a First Rate Farce

Review: Noises Off

After seeing Noises Off, you'll never look at a plate of sardines the same way.

When is bad acting the best kind of acting? When it is intentional and pulled off with the kind of deft, reckless comic abandoned used by every single cast member in Roundabout Theatre's stellar revival of Michael Frayn's farcical masterpiece, Noises Off. The belly laughs come early and often in this dizzying comic tour de force, which marks not just the first Broadway show of 2016 but also the first great one.

Heralded since its 1983 premiere as one of the all time great theatrical comedies, Noises Off milks its many laughs out of an exceedingly simple premise. A troupe of actors is desperately trying to mount a production of the fictional sex farce Nothing On, a terrible play being done terribly by the ill-equipped actors. Noises Off is broken up into three acts, each set at a different point in the show's run: Act I details the show's disastrous technical rehearsal, Act II moves the action backstage during a performance midway through the show's run, and Act III comes back in front of the curtain to show just how much the show has fallen apart by the end of its run. All of this is enacted by a wonderfully eccentric cast of characters who are concurrently sorting out multiple backstage romances, none of which seem to be going particularly well.

It must be said that even 30 years later Frayn's writing remains a marvel of economy and subtle exposition. As Noises Off primarily deals with how poorly the play-within-a-play is going, there's little time for fleshing out the actors performing it, and yet Frayn manages to pepper the dialogue with enough organic references to their offstage lives that everyone comes across as a person rather than a caricature. The show's first act is funny enough on its own that you don't realize how much expository groundwork it's laying. The repetition of scenes from Nothing On (necessitated by multiple missed cues during the play's tech rehearsal) allows you to follow what's happening in Acts II and III, where the same portion of the fictional comedy is viewed from backstage and from the audience during completely botched performances, yet you don't even realize that's what Frayn's doing until long after the final curtain has literally fallen. The only real knock against the writing is that the playwright fails to follow up on the bombshell revelation at the end of Act II, but at the same time the fact Frayn leaves certain details offstage details to the imagination is part of the appeal.

Of course no matter how strong a script is, you still need a cast and creative team capable of executing it, and that is where this revival truly shines. As the saying goes, "Dying is easy; comedy is hard," and nowhere is that more apparent than in the carefully plotted madness of Noises Off. The play relies on everything going wrong in such a specific fashion that one misstep would derail the entire enterprise, and yet for it to remain funny you cannot see the work or be aware you're being set up for a punchline. Director Jeremy Herrin nails this aspect, carefully crafting each moment of stage time so you can follow both the plot of the play-within-a-play and the behind the scenes shenanigans with ease. He keeps the pacing tight and the comedy heightened yet real; none of the characters have any idea they're being funny, which makes their hapless misadventures all the more hilarious.

Herrin has also assembled one of the hardest working casts in the industry, a true ensemble where every member is working together towards the larger goal. Part of what makes the sparsity of character development work is this cast's ability to fill in the blanks with their mannerisms, and at any moment you can watch anyone onstage and see a fully committed and often deeply hilarious performance. The specificity of the character choices is astounding, as is the varied and delightful ways they interact with one another. It helps that everyone has impeccable comic timing and a major affinity for physical comedy, from prat falls to slap fights to a tumble down the stairs executed with near balletic grace. The actors' physicality comes to a head during the showstopping backstage pantomime that makes up the majority of Act II, a sequence so packed with comic genius it could be watched half a dozen times and reveal entirely new layers of brilliance each time.

Andrea Martin is excellent as the company's resident (and fading) diva, who slowly but surely comes to realize she's in way over her head. Famed comedienne Martin is essentially playing the straight woman, which anyone who works in comedy will tell you is the hardest role to make work, a change of pace she expertly handles while remaining her unimpeachably hilarious self. Jeremy Shamos is side-splittingly funny as an actor who can't stand the sight of violence and just wants to know his motivation, getting funnier and funnier as his character becomes more and more bedraggled. Kate Jennings Grant is immensely appealing as the company's most competent actor and resident gossip monger, and has perhaps the play's single greatest bit of physical comedy as she *slowly* slinks across the floor midperformance to "unobtrusively" remove an errant plate of sardines from the set. Campbell Scott is delightfully explosive as the cantankerous director trying to corral this hapless troupe of actors, and both Tracee Chimo and Rob McClure provide fine support as the production's stage manager and resident technician/understudy, respectively. David Furr kills as the fading marquee idol seemingly incapable of finishing his sentences, and as the resident drunk Daniel Davis is great fun.

But the true standout of the show (quite the accomplishment in a cast this talented) is Megan Hilty as the blonde bombshell who spends the majority of the play in sexy lingerie. Hilty is one of the best bad actresses you are likely to ever see, and her every second of stage time is a multi-faceted masterclass in comic business. Hilty never upstages her cohorts, but when it's her time to shine she takes the moment and runs with it, like her tear-inducingly awkward crawl down the staircase while searching for her missing contact. Whether she's practicing her meditation, silently mouthing the other actors' lines, or flailing her arms in mock panic, Hilty is a comedic knockout.

Really, the only thing wrong with Noises Off is that it's a limited run production, meaning we only have another month to savor this sublime production. The entire hilarious cast will soon have to clear out of the American Airlines Theatre to make way for a very different type of classic (Roundabout's upcoming revival of Long Day's Journey Into Night), so I beg you to brave the cold and catch this production while you can. It's the perfect antidote to the winter doldrums, and proof positive that comedy can be every bit as artistically rewarding as drama.

She's Here, and Not to be Ignored

Review: The Color Purple

Cynthia Erivo (center) and the cast of The Color Purple.

Near the end of the rafter rattling opening number of The Color Purple, protagonist Celie gives birth. In keeping with helmer John Doyle's minimalist directorial concept, actress Cynthia Erivo symbolizes this act by pulling a plain white sheet from underneath her dress and slowly, methodically folding it into the shape of a newborn in swaddling clothing. And right before our eyes, this plain white sheet becomes the living, breathing object of Celie's unconditional love thanks to the actress' unmatched level of commitment. Erivo holds this sheet as if it is sacred, staring lovingly into eyes that aren't there and conjuring up a living, breathing child through sheer force of will. This type of primal theatrical magic permeates Doyle's sensational staging, and this opening tableau gives us our first indication that Erivo's performance is one for the ages.

For those who have yet to experience The Color Purple in any of its many forms - including Alice Walker's original Pulitzer Prize-winning novel or Stephen Spielberg's Oscar-nominated film adaptation - the narrative details how the constantly abused Celie slowly learns to love herself and her life, no matter how difficult her circumstances become. The plot tackles such weighty issues as rape, domestic abuse, and the ever-present specter of racial oppression before arriving at its ultimately uplifting, life-affirming climax. Like the novel on which it is based, this adaptation deftly avoids becoming maudlin or preachy thanks to a first rate book by playwright Marsha Norman and a powerful, gospel-influenced score by Brenda Russell, Allee Willis, and Stephen Bray. Only the most stone-hearted audience members will remain unmoved by Celie's journey, and even though the story's resolution is clearly telegraphed from early on that doesn't make the denouement any less affecting when it finally occurs.

The show's original Broadway incarnation received mixed reviews, ostensibly due to the distraction of the large physical production but more likely because despite what we claim to want New York critics are generally unforgiving of new work. Thankfully director John Doyle's stripped down production is so focused on The Color Purple's powerful narrative you cannot help but recognize its raw, visceral impact. Doyle's staging is lean and muscular, conceptual in a way that draws the audience in rather than pushes them away. The simple wooden set, comprised of a few platforms and an imposing wall of chairs, feels intensely personal, as if we and the other characters have been graciously allowed into the uncharted waters of Celie's psyche. Only a few times does Doyle's direction veer into pretentiousness - his handling of the ballad "What About Love" feels particularly heavy handed, and blunts the impact of both the song and the major plot reveal that occurs immediately afterwards - but the Scottish-born director also provides the show with such a singular vision that he must be commended, even for the choices that don't quite work.

He has also found a genuine star in Erivo, whose towering performance in the central role provides this production with its heart and soul. Despite near-constant abuse by the men in her life, Erivo's Celie remains a magnificent creature with an almost regal air about her. Erivo nobly endures the many injustices foisted upon Celie and her loved ones, slowly internalizing her character's anger until it threatens to consume her. With Erivo's piercing, powerful belt voice, Celie's many solos become plaintive wails for attention, the anguished cries of a woman who doesn't know how else to express her overwhelming frustration with life. This Celie is a powder keg waiting to explode, and when she finally hits her breaking point in Act II it is both cathartic and terrifying. And yet Erivo smartly keeps an undercurrent of kind-heartedness and even optimism running throughout her performance, providing the foundation for her soul stirring rendition of the show's eleven o'clock anthem "I'm Here." Erivo is the real deal, and by all accounts the multiple standing ovations she earned at the performance I attended are a regular occurrence.

The production's other above the title star is Oscar- and Grammy-winner Jennifer Hudson, making her long-awaited Broadway debut in a performance that is both everything you might have hoped and entirely unexpected. Hudson plays Shug Avery, the free-spirited lounge singer who wheels into Celie's life and completely upends it for the better. Hudson's vocals are every bit as powerful live as they are on CD, but the most impressive thing about her handling of Shug is how often she chooses not to strong-arm her way through the musical numbers. The score provides Shug with several its most beautiful ballads, and Hudson proves her maturity as both a musician and a performer in the way she caresses and croons them. She has enough confidence to know she doesn't have to belt every note, which makes the moments when she does cut loose all the more thrilling (her rendition of "Push Da Button" will leave you breathless). It must be admitted that Hudson remains a better singer than actress, but she is nonetheless effective during her book scenes, and her refusal to rest on the laurels of her famous name and window-rattling voice is much appreciated.

Isaiah Johnson is something of a revelation in the role of Celie's abusive husband Mister. He is often the villain of the piece, although one of the many joys of The Color Purple is that it refuses to pigeonhole any of its characters. And Johnson is legitimately scary as he paces the stage, looking ready to pounce on Celie and her compatriots at any second. But from early on Johnson makes it clear that Mister's rage stems from his disgust and frustration with his own life, and he completely sells the character's emotional epiphany during "Mister's Song." Danielle Brooks is a force of nature as Sophia, who marries Celie's stepson Harpo and is the first woman to show Celie she doesn't have to blindly accept whatever injustice the men of the world dish out. Sophia's defiant anthem "Hell No" has always been a crowd pleaser, and in Brooks' hands remains one the show's musical highlights. And in the small but pivotal role of Celie's sister Nettie, Joaquina Kalukango is just about perfect.

The one misfire among the principal cast is Kyle Scatliffe as Harpo. Scatliffe seems content to let the cognitive disconnect of a man with his towering frame being dominated by much smaller women provide most of his characterization, failing to do anything with the multitudinous other possibilities the text provides him. This ends up undermining not only his character but Brooks' Sophia as well; it is extremely difficult for Sophia to provide Celie with an example of a strong woman standing up to her husband when Scatliffe's Harpo is such a wet blanket that seemingly anyone can cause him to throw in the towel. The only part of Scatliffe's performance that makes an impression is his Act II duet with Brooks, "Any Little Thing;" it's a shame the actor hasn't figured out how to bring the playful, loving confidence he displays there into other sections of the show.

But if the worst complaint that can be leveled against The Color Purple is that Scatliffe's Harpo isn't very interesting, then overall things are going extremely well. This is a powerful piece of theatre whose deeper themes and lessons are highlighted and underscored by John Doyle's simple but effective direction. He has removed anything resembling bloat and focused entirely on the emotional journey of Celie, who is a more clearly the protagonist here than in the show's original incarnation.  It helps that Doyle has the phenomenal Cynthia Erivo in the central role, with the actress providing an endlessly fascinating, superbly acted and sensationally sung take on Celie that will have you rooting for her throughout the duration of the evening. Jennifer Hudson, Danielle Brooks, and the majority of the supporting cast all provide able bodied support, and even Scatliffe's Harpo is more of a missed opportunity than an outright problem. A production of this level of polish and emotional impact is a blessing, and every theatregoer should be grateful for it.

Ambitious, Flawed, and Still Captivating

Review: Allegiance

Lea Salonga, George Takei, and Telly Leung in Broadway's Allegiance

Broadway's much discussed season of diversity continues with Allegiance, the new musical by a trio of unknowns which tackles the weighty and shameful subject of the Japanese-American internment camps organized by the US government during the height of World War II. The xenophobic decision to round up all people of Japanese descent and force them into poorly maintained communal living quarters after the bombing of Pearl Harbor bears uncomfortable parallels to some current immigration discourse, and seeing that story dramatized makes for an unexpectedly moving night in the theatre. This is an important story that deserves to be told, although it is unfortunate the show's structural problems prevent it from telling said story as effectively as possible.

The problem with Allegiance is that it occasionally lets its lofty ideals overwhelm the character-driven narrative at its center. That story centers on Isamu "Sammy" Kimura, the son of an immigrant farmer who has struggled to live up to his father's high expectations. When the Kimura family is rounded up and sent to the Heart Mountain internment camp in Wyoming, Sammy feels the best way to prove his people's loyalty is to enlist in the war effort, a move strongly opposed by both his father and his older sister Kei. As conditions at the camp worsen, Kei and her father become more and more involved in a protest movement Sammy sees as un-American, with the growing divide between family members illustrating the true cost of such inhuman treatment.

The show is partially inspired by star George Takei's experiences living in an internment camp as a young boy (Takei plays an older version of Sammy during the musical's framing device, and the character's grandfather during the bulk of the 1940s set scenes). To fully convey what life was like the in the camp, Allegiance crams a lot of plot into its runtime, some of which feels extraneous. The show subtly but clearly plays up the similarities between the US interment camps and the Nazi concentration camps, but subplots about poor air quality and a dying infant hang awkwardly between being too prominent to merely serve as background coloring and yet not developed enough to stand on their own. The show attempts to juggle a lot of themes - it is at once a coming of age story, family drama, military yarn, and examination of government sanctioned racism - but these disparate elements never feel quite in balance, making Allegiance more confused and less effective than it could be.

Composer/lyricist Jay Kuo and his co-bookwriters Marc Acito and Lorenzo Thione also never settle on a consistent tone for the show, or create especially smooth transitions between the numerous styles they experiment with. There are jarring tonal shifts from sweeping melodrama (the serious and dignified anthem "Gaman," which is Japanese for "endurance with dignity") to crowd pleaser (the jaunty but misplaced "Get in the Game") to razor-tongued satire (the whip smart "Paradise," which enumerates the many "pleasures" of camp life). In trying to be all things at once - character drama, important historical work, political satire, splashy Broadway musical - Allegiance never accomplishes anything to the best of its ability.

Which is a shame, as when the show keeps things in check it really does have a lot going for it. The story may be a tad predictable but it is also interesting, and all the characters are recognizably human with clearly defined (if occasionally clunky) narrative arcs. The satirical moments are fascinating juxtapositions of bouncy tunes with cutting lyrics, and though these select moments seem to come out of nowhere the authors would be foolish to cut them completely; if anything, extending that tone to other parts or the story would help strengthen the show's point of view. And the authors are clearly capable of acknowledging larger themes without letting them trample the narrative momentum, such as when the show pauses just long enough to acknowledge the profound effect the bombing of Hiroshima would have had on its characters without delving too deeply into an event which is largely outside the show's scope.

Like the writing, the staging varies wildly in its competence and effectiveness. At times Stafford Arima's work on Allegiance seems like Directing 101, with characters stiffly moving from place to place for no other reason than to provide visual variety. But just when you've written him off, Arima will come up with a refreshingly inventive sequence like the genuinely thrilling battle in the middle of Act II, which finds Sammy and his battalion on a suicide mission in France. Andrew Palermo's choreography draws from a sometimes limited movement vocabulary, but it gets the job done and he does manage to come up with some impressive-looking group numbers.

The performances are the most consistent part of Allegiance, with the leads and supporting cast turning in fine work. Telly Leung makes for a charismatic and compelling lead as Sammy, subtly shading the character's gung-ho enthusiasm with the weight of having always felt like a disappointment. Leung has played supporting roles in several previous Broadway shows, but his work here proves the fresh faced tenor has what it takes to be a star. Tony-winner Lea Salonga takes the potentially boring, milquetoast Kei and makes her an utterly fascinating, fully realized individual who in many ways provides the heart of the show. In prime voice, Salonga sings and acts her many solos with effortless conviction, giving a multi-faceted performance that fuses Kei's introverted demeanor with her deep-seated strength and determination. And George Takei shines in the dual roles of an elder Sammy and Ojii-chan, Sammy and Kei's sprightly and mischievous grandfather.

Allegiance should be applauded for its ambition in tackling such important, unusual subject matter and shining a light on this little-discussed chapter of US history, even if it must simultaneously be scolded for being a tad too rough around the edges. The problem with setting out to write an important work of theatre is that importance is not something that can be dramatized, and in trying to do just that Allegiance occasionally allows its well-meaning ideals to overwhelm the narrative at its core. Yet the show ultimately does more right than wrong, providing a story that speaks to an underserved segment of the theatergoing public while simultaneously providing plenty to think about for audience members of all racial backgrounds. Allegiance is many things, but it certainly isn't forgettable, and for that it should be commended.

A Star is Born (But Not Who You Think)

Review: Dames at Sea

Eloise Kropp (center) and the tap-happy cast of Dames at Sea

The beautiful contradiction of Dames at Sea is that it is a send-up of the lavish, large scale Busby Berkeley movie musicals of the 1930s performed by just 6 actors. Conceived for a tiny Off-Off-Broadway space, the original production made a star of Bernadette Peters, and since its premiere over 40 years ago the show has been produced by countless high school, amateur, and regional theatre companies. Now this delightful piece of tomfoolery has docked on the (comparatively) big stage of the Helen Hayes Theatre for its Broadway debut, in a first rate production that has been suitably jazzed up for contemporary audiences without losing any of the show's beguiling old school charms.

The plot is paper thin and purposefully ridiculous, spoofing the "a star is born" stories so commonly seen in backstage musicals. Ruby is the sweet, innocent girl fresh off the bus from Utah who has come to New York dreaming of making it big. She is instantly cast as a replacement dancer in big time star Mona Kent's next Broadway vehicle, and while the outsized diva isn't exactly happy about her newfound competition, she does fancy Dick, a talented songwriting sailor and Ruby's one true love. When the cast learns their theatre is set to be demolished that very day, they concoct a plan to premiere their show on Dick's naval ship, but will they be able to pull everything together in time???

Of course they will. There's never any doubt about how things will work out, as the whole point of Dames at Sea is to lovingly mock the fact that we have seen this story many, many times before. With Dames it is all about the journey rather than the destination, and in this case said journey is filled with jaunty throwback numbers, delightfully kooky characters, and some of the most elaborate 6 person tap routines imaginable. Director/choreographer Randy Skinner stages the expanded dance sequences with an expert eye and incredibly versatile tap vocabulary, giving solos and duets the same amount of smile-inducing razzle dazzle most directors need an entire chorus to conjure. Skinner also has an excellent handle on the show's over the top but completely earnest tone, keeping things moving along at such a breezy pace that everything feels fresh despite the abundance of dated period references.

Skinner's hard working, eminently likable cast handles this deceptively tricky balancing act with ease, and with one slight but notable exception they are all outstanding. That exception would be the doe-eyed and sweet-voiced Eloise Kropp as Ruby, who unfortunately is not the breakout star that by all accounts Peters was in the original. Kropp admirably anchors the show with her sincere naivety while still tapping up a storm, but misses a lot of the farcical comedy lurking just beneath the script's surface. If Kropp doesn't take full advantage of the comedic opportunities presented by the material, it is still difficult to dislike someone so winsomely earnest, and Kropp is by no means bad; she is simply not ideal.

The one benefit of having a slightly underwhelming Ruby is that absolutely nothing distracts from the pitch perfect comic shenanigans of Lesli Margherita as Mona. Margherita chews all of the scenery, spits it out, and chews it again in a deliriously campy performance that is Norma Desmond by way of Ethel Merman. The show gives Margherita permission to go as far as she wants with Mona's over the top antics, something the brassy comedienne commits to with complete gutso. She dances like a dream and belts to the rafters, turning the parody torch song "The Mister Man of Mine" into a roof rattling showstopper that is the evening's clear high point. This Dames belongs to Margherita, who will hopefully be gracing our stages for many, many years to come.

The rest of the cast also does fine work, with Mara Davi providing a particularly strong take on sexy yet classy chorus girl Joan. Cary Tedder embodies the young leading man stereotype with ease, and as fellow sailor Lucky, Danny Gardner makes an excellent Donald O'Connor-type to Tedder's Gene Kelly-esque Dick. John Bolton hams it up in the dual roles of show producer Hennesey and the naval Captain, knowing just when to steal focus and when to defer to his castmates' talents. All of the actors look great in David C. Woolard's candy colored costumes and on Anna Louizos' simple but effective set, which is beautifully lit by Ken Billington and Jason Kantrowitz.

Dames at Sea is the perfect antidote to the sometimes overblown spectacle of contemporary Broadway, a loving homage to a simpler time when a catchy tune and a well executed dance routine were all that an audience required. Thanks to strong direction by Skinner and a smart choice of theatre, the show has been suitably upsized for the big leagues without losing the small scale charm that makes it work in the first place. Strong performances all around and a truly exceptional star turn by Lesli Margherita make this a maritime journey worth taking, as these Dames are the real deal.