I Never Thought I'd Be So Happy (With This Film)

Movie Review: Into the Woods

James Cordon as the Baker and Meryl Streep as the Witch in Disney's Into the Woods.

After what seems like an eternity, Disney's highly anticipated film adaptation of Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods has finally arrived in theatres. The good news is that the internet's concerns about the film's fidelity to the source material are almost entirely unfounded; this is an incredibly faithful and respectful adaptation of the beloved stage show. Even better news is that the movie is a very good and at times even great film in its own right, featuring an excellent cast and a suitable dose of movie magic to make this fractured fairy tale truly sing on the big screen. Purists will no doubt have their complaints, but for most fans and the uninitiated this is an excellent representation of a contemporary classic from one of musical theatre's undisputed masters.

For those who don't know, Into the Woods weaves the well-known fairy tales of Cinderella, Jack and the Beanstalk, Little Red Riding Hood, and Rapunzel together with an original tale about a childless Baker and his Wife. Early in the film, the Baker discovers that his family has been cursed by the village's resident Witch, and the only way to lift the spell is to collect four magical objects before the impending blue moon. What follows is a series of misadventures that ultimately subverts the notion of "happily ever after" while also exploring what happens when you get exactly what you want, only to find that it wasn't at all like you expected.

The musical's original librettist James Lapine adapts his own script into a very smart condensation of the stage show. Into the Woods has always been a marvel of tight pacing, so the fact that Lapine managed to trim things in way that doesn't sacrifice plot is truly impressive. Cut musical numbers are replaced with scenes that cover the same story beats, and the bridging of the musical's two distinct acts is handled about as well as conceivably possible. Sondheim has tweaked some lyrics where necessary, and listening to Jonathan Tunick's symphonic arrangements is like hearing this score afresh. Even the musical numbers that didn't make the film are represented via underscore in their same approximate locations, and truly sharp-eared fans will catch a surprising reference to one of Sondheim's other Tony-winning musicals.

Speaking of the fans, those afraid Disney would sanitize the musical's darker edges can rest easy. Pretty much everything that happens onstage happens in the movie, with the difference being the film tends to only imply things the stage version made more explicit. There's even a surprisingly sexual "Hello, Little Girl" that somehow slipped past the censors, proving that director Rob Marshall and company weren't lying when they insisted they were doing a very faithful adaptation.

Rob Marshall's direction is somewhere between his Oscar-nominated work on Chicago and his more questionable choices on the underwhelming Nine. His kinetic camerawork certainly keeps things interesting, although the constantly revolving camera sometimes distracts from the storytelling rather than enhances it. Marshall smartly limits his use of special effects to some key moments, which keeps the magic feeling magical without overwhelming the characters. His production team has lovingly designed the film with lavish sets and costumes, although the film tends so dark it can be difficult to make out the details.

One thing Marshall and his team have absolutely nailed is the casting, with nary a weak link among the story's dozen or so principal and secondary characters. Oscar-winner Meryl Streep is clearly having a blast as the Witch, making a veritable feast out of the "Witch's Rap" and chewing the scenery in the best possible way. Streep also sings like a dream, ranging from breathy intimacy to full throttle belting over the course of her musical numbers. Her tour de force performance of "Last Midnight" meets even the loftiest expectations and definitely proves that whether or not he intended to, Sondheim wrote a genuine showstopper when he added the song after the musical's out of town tryout.

The always enjoyable Emily Blunt is excellent as the Baker's Wife, a natural comedienne with a surprisingly strong voice and effortlessly natural line delivery. Her chemistry with James Corden's Baker is palpable, with the latter also doing a fine job with his character's more emotional scenes during the movie's second half. Anna Kendrick continues to prove adept at just about anything she sets her mind to, even if the more intimate medium of film highlights that some key points of Cinderella's emotional growth occur off screen. Her "Steps of a Palace" is a knockout, aided by Marshall's brilliant decision to play the entire song as a split second decision that occurs while Cinderella is being chased by the Prince.

Speaking of the Prince, Chris Pine isn't quite as at home in a movie musical as many of his costars, but that doesn't stop him from being a perfectly aloof foil to Kendrick's introspective Cinderella. Pine and Billy Magnussen's gloriously campy "Agony" is nearly perfect in its beefcake-skewering brilliance, second only to Streep's "Last Midnight" on the list of the film's standout moments. Lilla Crawford makes for a hilariously deadpan Little Red, and Daniel Huttlestone brings a genuine boyish glee to the role of Jack. Tracey Ullman, Christine Baranski, and Johnny Depp all make strong impressions despite limited screentime, and the uniformly excellent cast is one of the movie's strongest assets.

Into the Woods is ultimately about as good an adaptation as one could hope for. Purists will certainly find things to nitpick, and fans will no doubt miss some of the cut songs (I'm particularly sorry we lost the Witch's "A bear?/Bears are sweet..." segment from the Act II opening), but overall this is an incredibly faithful adaptation in spirit, tone, and execution. The plot and themes remain virtually unchanged from the stage version, with Marshall and his game cast embracing the opportunities offered by the big screen without abandoning what has made this such an enduringly popular property in the first place. It won't replace the invaluable recording of the original Broadway production, but it is an excellent companion piece and definitely worth seeking out.

Why the Internet Needs to Calm Down About "Into the Woods"

Meryl Streep will play the Witch in Disney's film adaptation of Into the Woods, and regardless of how much they change the material she will still be Meryl Streep.

At a recent event for high school educators, Broadway legend Stephen Sondheim let slip some of the planned changes for the upcoming film version of his beloved musical Into the Woods.  The Powers That Be at Disney, which is financing and releasing the film, have made several changes that soften the musical's darker edges, such as desexualizing the relationship between Little Red and the Wolf, sparing Rapunzel from her death at the hands (feet) of the Giant, and removing the Baker's Wife affair with Cinderella's Prince.  (Ironically, Sondheim revealed these changes at an event about censorship of the arts, specifically in high schools, when a teacher shared that he was hesitant to produce the show at his school due to potential backlash over the same issues.)  The Internet promptly went insane, declaring their hatred of Disney and how they were boycotting the movie and how Disney has "ruined Christmas" (which is when the movie is scheduled to be released).

If you ask me - and by clicking on the link to this blog entry, you kind of did - everyone needs to calm the hell down.  The fact that anyone can legitimately be surprised and/or upset by this news is baffling, and shows they have a complete lack of understanding of how these things work.

First and foremost, theatre and film are entirely different mediums, with different strengths.  In order to take advantage of the new medium, you almost have to make changes (which also helps justify why you're changing mediums at all).  Just about every film adaptation of a stage show features alterations and cuts, some of them major departures from the original.  The Sound of Music reorders a large chunk of the musical numbers, cuts pretty much any music involving Elsa and Max, and adds new songs like "I Have Confidence."  Dreamgirls rewrites the majority of the show's second act in order to flesh out the characters, provide more closure for Jimmy (who just sort of disappears in the stage version), and give Beyoncé an 11 o'clock number because she's Beyoncé (and also because Deena Jones can come across as an underwritten puppet onstage).  Cabaret, often cited as one of the last great movie musicals, completely recalibrates the original stage version to focus more exclusively on Sally (Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz are barely in the film at all) and adds so many new songs that when Sam Mendes and Rob Marshall revived the show for Roundabout they changed it into a hybrid between the original and the film.  Even West Side Story, one of the most lauded movie musicals of all time and generally considered a pretty faithful adaptation of the stage show, swaps the placement of "Officer Krumpke" and "Cool" in a way that totally changes the tone and meaning of both.

The common thread shared by those movies is that most theatre fans consider them to be pretty damn good.  In fact, I would argue that both The Sound of Music and Dreamgirls are substantial improvements on the originals, and if Bob Fosse had just filmed the stage version of Cabaret we wouldn't have the Kander and Ebb classics "Mein Herr" and "Maybe This Time."  And while both versions of West Side Story are pretty close to perfect, I personally prefer having "Cool" take place after the rumble rather than before it.  While there are plenty of examples where the changes for the movie don't work out so well (*cough*Rent*cough*), we don't really have any way of knowing where Into the Woods will fall until the finished film is released.  If someone just listed the changes for the movies I mentioned without anyone having seen the finished films, people would be just as upset as they are about Sondheim's fairy tale.

Also, the fact that Disney is releasing Into the Woods should have been a major tipoff that the darker edges would be softened.  Disney is one of the most image conscious, carefully designed and maintained brands on the planet; it is a major part of their enduring, basically unprecedented success.  They care very much about their reputation as a family friendly company, so there was no way they would put out a fairy tale film (fairy tales being closely tied with their brand and image) as dark as the stage Into the Woods.  Sondheim is certainly aware of this, and is quoted as saying, "If I were a Disney executive I probably would say the same thing." As soon as we heard that this would have the Disney name on it, rather than one of their subsidiaries, we all should have been prepared for the inevitable changes.

And if that hadn't clued people in, casting sure as hell should have.  Little Red was originally cast as an 8-year-old girl (although later replaced by the slightly older but still prepubescent 12-year-old).  Did people honestly think they were going to keep the sexual undertones of "Hello, Little Girl" and "I Know Things Now" with an actual child playing the part?  If they did, they are frankly stupid and/or twisted.  It is one thing to see that subtext played out using an adult playing a child; it is another when Little Red is actually a kid acting opposite a Wolf who is in his 40s.  That is gross.  I argue that even purists wouldn't really want to see the story played as written with that particular age dynamic, and even if you think how uncomfortable that would be is the point you can't have really thought Disney of all companies would go there.

At the end of the day, besides the fact that everyone should have seen this coming, my real point here is that it doesn't matter because we haven't even seen the finished product yet.  The changes could be brilliant, or at the very least bring out a different take on the story than the stage version.  The fact that Sondheim and James Lapine are involved with the film and have helped with the rewrites means we have a better chance of preserving some artistic integrity than if an outside screenwriter had made the changes (it also means we get new Sondheim songs).  And if the changes end up being bad, and "destroy the show" as some people are already claiming, we always have the stage version.  Not only is it one of Sondheim's most performed works, but we also have the video of the original stage production, with the incomparable original cast reprising their roles, readily available on Netflix for you to watch whenever you want.

Personally, I'm expecting the film to be a mixed bag.  I think Meryl Streep will be a fascinating Witch, and Anna Kendrick is pitch perfect casting as Cinderella (see what I did there?).  But the changes will definitely affect the overall meaning of the story, and I've never been convinced that the sharp delineation between Act I and Act II will work in a medium without an intermission.  The commonly accepted reading of the show is that it is a deconstruction/dismissal of the idea of "happily ever after," but if that was all there was to Into the Woods it wouldn't be so enduringly popular and meaningful to so many different people.  And no one is forcing me or you or anyone else to watch the movie, and it's existence does nothing to negate or change everything you love about the stage version.

My Top 10 Theatre Experiences: Part 2

A few weeks ago, I started to publish a list of my Top 10 theatrical experiences of all time.  This list includes the shows that have had a profound impact on my theatre-going life, and the ones that have remained the most vivid in my memory since initially seeing them.  You can read the first article for a more thorough breakdown of the criteria I've used, but basically for a show to make the list it had to play Broadway and be solid from top to bottom (excellent star turns in mediocre shows have been left off).  And the list is alphabetical, because coming up with a numbered ranking for these 10 shows would just be too hard.

So picking up where I left off:

The Book of Mormon

Andrew Rannells and the original Broadway cast of The Book of Mormon

The Book of Mormon holds a distinction that I do not give out lightly; despite my hesitancy to rank the shows on this list, almost 3 years after my first viewing I can safely say that The Book of Mormon is the best night I've ever spent in the theatre.  The energy inside the theatre was palpable during the early March preview I attended back in 2011; though highly anticipated, the show was shrouded in secrecy.  The producers had only released four production stills, there was no video or audio available, and the program purposefully lacked a song list or even a basic scene breakdown.  None of us quite knew what we were getting into, and the experience was all the better for it.

As a huge fan of South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut (easily among my favorite films of all time), I had enormous expectations for this show, and it handily exceeded every one of them.  By the end of the opening number I was grinning from ear to ear, and soon after that I was howling with laughter.  The show was every bit as gleefully offensive as you could imagine, and crossed a couple of boundaries even I wasn't sure they were allowed to.  And yet the show was so hilarious, and more importantly so heartfelt, that it didn't matter.  The show had a soul, and a soul that not only respected but embraced the traditions of the glitzy book musicals of days past.  There are rousing production numbers, comic duets, and second act power ballads that manage to both gently mock the absurdity of such things while at the same time being excellent examples of those troupes.

Simply put, The Book of Mormon is one of the best constructed musicals of the new millennium, as well as one of the funniest.  But what made this experience truly transcendent for me was the absolutely extraordinary original cast.  Everyone, from the principals to the ensemble members, was an extremely talented triple threat with spot-on comic timing and amazing chemistry.  While Josh Gad was rightly praised for his scenery chewing turn as the hopelessly awkward Elder Cunningham, I think Andrew Rannells' supremely smug Elder Price was the show's true revelation.  Rannells managed to play straight man to Gad's comic genius while remaining hilarious in his own right, and turned what could have been a thoroughly off-putting character into a beacon of charisma and old-school showmanship.  (Also, Rannells' pop-tenor is nearly flawless.)  Tony-winner Nikki M. James provided the show's heart and soul as Ugandan tribeswoman Nabalungi, and Rory O'Malley led one of this decade's great production numbers with his showstopping "Turn It Off" (which incidentally includes my favorite sight gag in the entire show, and one that made me audibly gasp in delight when I first saw it).

The Book of Mormon is rightfully one of the hottest tickets in town, commanding upwards of $450 per ticket for the premium seats.  It is the only show running I would even consider paying that much money for, and I will continue to recommend it to any and everyone who will listen.

Follies (2011 Revival)

The "Loveland" sequence from the 2011 revival of Follies

Stephen Sondheim's utter mastery of the musical theatre form is sometimes taken for granted, and I often call him the Shakespeare of the musical stage.  Like the Bard, Sondheim's works have the remarkable ability to reveal new facets of meaning with each subsequent viewing, and have proven able to withstand a wide array of reimaginings and concept-based stagings.  But sometimes, as the breathtaking 2011 revival of Follies proved, all you need is to do the show the way it was written.  Grandly opulent and utterly heartbreaking, this revival took a show I had always found intriguing and skyrocketed it up my personal list to the point where I consider it one of the finest musicals ever created.

The show, centered around the reunion of the last remaining performers of a Ziegfeld Follies-esque spectacle, is simultaneously about nothing and everything.  There is very little plot, and yet over the course of the evening the show manages to make deeply poignant observations about growing older and regret while still celebrating the vast amount of beauty to be found in life.  Sondheim's score is a parade of pastiches that include some of the greatest ballads ever written, including cabaret standards like "I'm Still Here" and "Losing My Mind."  The most expensive musical ever produced at the time of its original premiere, Follies requires an elaborate physical production and enormous cast, and this revival hit both of those elements out of the park.

Bernadette Peters' performance as Sally Durante-Plummer is probably one of the more divisive in recent Broadway history; I personally loved her, and found her character's slow unraveling to be a fascinating portrait of the cost of unmet ambitions.  But nobody could argue with the stunning brilliance of her onstage husband Danny Burstein, who was a revelation as Buddy Plummer and robbed (ROBBED!) of a justly deserved Tony Award.  And Jan Maxwell's pitch-perfect embodiment of the jaded, bitter Phyllis Rogers-Stone was such a masterclass in musical theatre acting that I can still vividly recall her two big numbers ("Could I Leave You?" and "The Story of Lucy and Jessie").  The only reason I am okay with her not winning a long-overdue Tony is because that year's victor was Audra McDonald for Porgy and Bess, which was one step beyond perfection.

Finally, Follies has what may be one of the most thrilling theatrical climaxes of any musical I've ever seen.  Watching the main quartet of characters finally reach their breaking point, triggering the 20-minute long "Loveland" sequence in which each character is deconstructed in an elaborately-staged Follies-style production umber, had me on the edge of my seat in the way few shows ever had.  I can still see that initial reveal, with the downstage drop curtain falling to floor to reveal the dazzling Loveland set, as if it had happened this morning.


That's enough for today.  Hopefully I will be a little more regular on the blog postings, but even if it takes a while I promise the rest of this list is coming!

The Best Shows of 2012 Countdown

The tree is up at Rockefeller Center, the number of tourists in Times Square is steadily multiplying, and every store in the city seems to be playing holiday music.  Yes, we are fast approaching the end of 2012, and just like last year I’m going to use the upcoming month to look back at the best and worst shows of the past 12 months.  Which show will succeed The Book of Mormon as the best show of the year?  And what show will follow in Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark’s dubious footsteps and be crowned the absolute worst the New York theatre scene has to offer? 

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be counting down to my top picks, and I hope you’ll join me for this look back at the year on Broadway and beyond.  This is by no means meant to be an exhaustive or definitive list of the best and worst shows of the year.  I simply don’t have the time or money to go see everything, and so this list will be confined to productions I have actually attended, be they on Broadway or beyond.  If you disagree with me, I welcome you to make your case in the comments.  And now, without further ado, let the Best of 2012 Countdown begin!

 

Best of 2012

#10 – Into the Woods

 

Stephen Sondheim’s deconstructed fairy tale is one of the composer’s most beloved works, leading to a nearly unprecedented level of anticipation for last summer’s star-studded Shakespeare in the Park production.  The open-air staging by director Timothy Sheader proved to be especially divisive, with audiences loving and loathing it in equal measure.  While far from perfect, I personally loved this new take on the familiar musical, and appreciated the fact that Sheader and company dared to try something different with the piece.

 

The contemporary update of the show, coupled with the addition of a framing device involving a child Narrator who tells the tale to keep himself entertained after running away from home, made this staging feel fresh and unexpected.  While some complained the sprawling, multi-tiered set made the action hard to follow, I felt it added a layer of visual interest the show sorely needed, while simultaneously providing a sense of continual movement to this musical quest.  The reimagined Witch and the marauding Giant are two of the more vivid images from the past twelve months, and whether or not you agreed with all the directorial choices it was nice to see such bold ones being made on such a high-profile production.

 

Even more divisive than the staging was the cast, which admittedly was something a mixed bag, although in my opinion the good outweighed the bad.  Seeing Donna Murphy tackle the Witch proved to be one of the most thrilling performances of the year, and her show-stopping “Last Midnight” was a transcendent example of musical theatre acting at its finest.  The naysayers who complain Murphy’s performance hewed too close to Bernadette Peters’ original would have been equally offended if she had strayed too far from her predecessor’s blueprint.  Far more deserving of scorn would be the horribly miscast Dennis O’Hare as the Baker or the slightly awkward Baker’s Wife of Amy Adams.

 

Ultimately, it’s probably for the best that this production’s rumored Broadway transfer has yet to materialize.  Although the show would have benefited from some tweaking and more rehearsal time, moving the production indoors would have robbed it of a vital component of what made this Into the Woods special.  As an entertaining diversion for a balmy summer’s night, the production was hard to fault, and that is why I’ve named it one of the Best Shows of 2012.

 

For my full review of Into the Woods, click here.

Satisfaction in the Park with Sondheim

Review:  Into the Woods

Donna Murphy in a performance that would surely be Tony-nominated if it were eligible (here's hoping for a transfer!)

After a troubled preview period riddled with rain delays, cancelled rehearsals, and at least one Twitter scandal, the star-studded Shakespeare in the Park production of Into the Woods has finally opened at Central Park’s Delacorte Theatre, and the results are worth the wait.  While not perfect, this reimagining of the Stephen Sondheim-James Lapine musical avoids the long shadow cast by the beloved Broadway original and establishes the work as a modern classic capable of withstanding wildly different interpretations without losing its sizeable charm.

For those unfamiliar with the show’s premise, Into the Woods tells the story of a childless Baker (Tony-winner Dennis O’Hare) and his Wife (Oscar-nominee Amy Adams) who are tasked with gathering four mystical items by the mysterious and semi-malevolent Witch (Tony-winner Donna Murphy).  If they can find the items in three midnights’ time, the Witch will lift the curse she has placed upon them and grant them a child.  Along the way, the Baker and his Wife cross paths with famous fairy tale figures like Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, Jack (and his beanstalk) and Rapunzel.  And while all of the characters eventually get what they wish, the actions taken during their journeys come with unforeseen consequences that raise the question of what happens after Happily Ever After.

Based on a 2010 production at the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre in London, this Into the Woods is a wholly contemporary take on what has previously been treated as a timeless tale.  Director Timothy Sheader, repeating his work from the London production, has added a framing device in which a runaway child (played by an accomplished Jack Broderick) assumes the role of the story’s Narrator and enacts the Baker’s story.  Having a child in such a pivotal role highlights the underlying themes of what parents teach their children and the loss of innocence, while also justifying the very contemporary mannerisms of the key players.  Emily Robholz’s costumes emphasize the updated setting with an appealing hodgepodge of modern dress and timeless clothing.

Sheader takes his concept and runs with it, letting it and the outdoor setting influence every aspect about the production.  Seamlessly blending in with the Central Park setting, John Lee Beatty’s multi-tiered set provides an excellent canvas for Sheader to work with, and the director deploys his actors onto the various crosswalks and ladders with assurance and style.  He also eschews modern stage trickery for something more simplistic and ultimately more satisfying, with his representations of Jack’s beanstalk and Giant proving particularly striking (both drew audible gasps at the performance I attended).

The cast is such an embarrassment of riches it’s difficult to know where to start, but Donna Murphy is particularly impressive as the Witch.  Filling the vast Delacorte Theatre with the presence of a true star, Murphy is transcendent in the role, from her mesmerizing first entrance until the final curtain.  Her initial wow factor is due in no small part to the ingenious make-up design of Joe Dulude II, which transforms her into a gnarled old crone on the verge of becoming one with the forest that surrounds her, but Murphy is too good an actress to let the costume do all the work.  She contrasts her frightening appearing with a deft comic delivery that mines the humor in Lapine’s book while remaining an imposing antagonist, and even after her transformation into a more conventional form Murphy remains transfixing.  And when she sings the haunting “Last Midnight,” Murphy propels the song to the showstopping heights it has always aspired to but never quite achieved.

Few could hope to equal Murphy’s brilliance, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the cast is anything less than incredibly compelling in its own right.  Amy Adams’ inherent charm serves her quite well as the put-upon Baker’s Wife, and although it takes her a while to find the show’s rhythm she becomes quite compelling by the end.   She certainly earns her right to perform alongside such accomplished theatre stars, and her singing voice is quite strong for someone with little formal training. 

Unfortunately for Adams, her main scene partner is the woefully miscast Dennis O’Hare, who proves to be the one weak link among an otherwise fine cast.  O’Hare, so adept at playing insane and/or eccentric characters, struggles in the everyman role of the Baker, often coming across as harshly sarcastic or obnoxiously neurotic.  He and Adams lack the chemistry needed for the audience to fully invest in their characters, and it is telling that O’Hare’s strongest moments occur when Adams is offstage.  The fact that the original Baker, Chip Zein, plays the Mysterious Man and often appears onstage with O’Hare serves as an unintentional reminder of the latter’s shortcomings, and you can’t help but feel the pair would be better served by switching roles.

Recent Tony-nominee Jessie Mueller does a fantastic job as Cinderella, convincingly conveying a mix of school-girl giddiness and underlying sadness that makes her the most grounded of all the major players.  Gideon Glick fully commits to the enthusiastic but dim-witted nature of Jack in an endearing portrayal that is central to the show’s underlying theme of children growing older.  As his female counterpoint, Sarah Stiles’ Little Red Riding Hood is hilariously daffy, but avoids the role’s tendency towards obnoxiousness by offering glimpses of the scared and confused young woman beneath the cloak.

The production’s few missteps occur when the director and cast favor the overt rather than the subtle.  Cinderella’s two Stepsisters are so over-choreographed that it becomes distracting, especially given their tangential importance to the plot and the lack of any real dance among the other characters.  Sheader and his cast play up the sexual undertones in the Little Red Riding Hood story to the point where they feel imposed on the tale rather than an essential part of its meaning, which undermines the work’s brilliantly subtle subversion of fairy tale tropes in the first act.  And the show runs into tonal problems at the start of its second half, when things awkwardly shift from straightforward musical comedy into more serio-comedic drama (to be fair, this is also the one area where James Lapine’s book could use some tweaking).

Overall, the only people who won’t find anything to enjoy about this Into the Woods are the purists who insist that all mountings of the show be perfect duplicates of the original production.  For everyone else, this version offers a fascinatingly new take on the material that stays true to its intention, complete with a top-tier cast and a towering central performance by the incomparable Donna Murphy.  Into the Woods is some of the best theatre of the summer, and that fact that it remains free to anyone willing to brave the long lines is added icing on the cake.  Go see it before it’s gone.

She Knows Things Now

Hi, I'm Broadway's Morgan James, and I apparently have no idea how the internet works.

I had another topic in mind for this blog entry, but then I saw this story about the uproar Broadway actress Morgan James caused by tweeting her negative reaction to Shakespeare in the Park’s Into the Woods and felt compelled to write about that instead.

If you’re too lazy to read the linked article, just know that Ms. James attended last night’s first public preview and was decidedly unimpressed.  She said as much via Twitter, criticizing the acting and musicians, and the rest of the Broadway community jumped down her throat for saying such negative things in a public forum.  James has since deleted the offending tweets and half-heartedly apologized, but maintains she is entitled to express her opinion. 

This is a subject that is close to my heart, as I am a theatre professional (or at least semi-professional with professional friends) who has a blog full of show reviews, and not all of them are complimentary.  I agree that James is entitled her opinion and that no one can force her to like a particular show, but I also agree with most people that she is in the wrong for tweet her displeasure.  Why?  In the spirit of the show, I have listed her offenses in the form of fairy tale morals.

1)      The difference between a thought and a tweet is a tweet can cause a commotion

Twitter is a social landmine.  The website’s format encourages users to tweet whatever thought pops into their head immediately, and then keeps a record of that thought forever (or at least until you go back and intentionally delete it).  This causes many users to forgo the mental filter they would use during face to face conversation, and the text format means you can’t claim you were misheard or pretend you didn’t say something.  This has been the bane of many celebrities’ existence, and yet after countless instances of people being taken to task for ill-considered tweets James seems surprised the same thing happened to her.

Also, being limited to 140 characters makes it very difficult to back up any assertions with examples.  If James had been having a face to face conversation (or just posting to something that allowed her more words to express herself), she could have provided some concrete examples of the flaws she was talking about.  But without examples, it comes across as if James is just being catty, especially since most performers give negative critiques in a way that seems to imply they would have done a better job. 

2)      A first preview is not opening night

The entire point of having a preview period is that it gives cast and crew time to work out the production’s kinks.  As a veteran of several Broadway shows, which often have three or four weeks of previews, James should have understood that what she saw last night was not meant to be the final product.  By choosing to attend the first preview, James essentially agreed to see a work in progress, and should have tempered her expectations accordingly.

3)      The harsher the words, the quieter you speak them (especially during previews).

Because elements of the show are still in flux during previews, being too harsh on them is generally frowned upon.  There is still time for things to improve, so speaking out against the show before it is finished makes James appear immature and rude.  This is why critics don’t see shows until the week before opening, and even then they hold off on publishing their judgments until after the production opens out of respect for all the hard working individuals involved.  Yes, theatre professionals love to gossip about troubled musicals, but most have enough tact to engage in those types of conversations in the privacy of their own homes (or a nearby bar) rather than on the very public internet.

4)      The younger the critic, the less people care

This entry could also be entitle, “Respect your elders.”  Simply put, Morgan James hasn’t earned the right to publically bash her fellow artists.  She may have Broadway credits, but you know what they are?  Ensemble in The Addams Family (a bad show), Wonderland (a worse show), and Soloist in Godspell (a decent show).  Nothing about her resume or body of work gives her any kind of industry clout or respect, especially when she is saying Tony winners and Oscar nominees don’t know how to act.  You have to earn the right to speak out against your peers, and James is a long way from being able to insult the abilities of other artists. 

When Stephen Sondheim decided to trash the Porgy and Bess revival before it had even started its out of town tryout, he did so with 60 years’ experience, multiple Tony Awards, a Pulitzer Prize, and a body of acclaimed work that demonstrates he knows a thing or two about what constitutes good musical theatre.  And even with all that expertise, a lot of people still felt he was out of line (although they promptly forgave him, as he’s still Stephen-freaking-Sondheim).  James’ dubious career doesn’t afford her the type of leeway given to the writer of acknowledged masterpieces like Sweeney Todd, Company, and yes, Into the Woods.

Hopefully this incident has taught James (and other performers) that there is a time and a place for peer criticism, and Twitter is not it.  The only acceptable public forum for such criticism is a review, which exists expressly for that purpose and has a format that allows you enough space to back up your assertions with examples.  Other than that, negative critiques should be reserved for private conversation among peers, preferably after the show is opened and therefore “finished.”  Otherwise, keep your damn mouth shut.

Even Flops Deserve an Encore

Review: Merrily We Roll Along

Celia Keenan-Bolger, Collin Donnell, and Lin-Manuel Miranda in the Encores staging of Merrily We Roll Along

I hope that Stephen Sondheim’s Merrily We Roll Along, running this weekend and next as part of the Encores! concert series at NY City Center, receives that oft-speculated about Broadway transfer. Not because the show (or this production) is perfect; far from it, as there are many problems plaguing this 1981 flop musical about a group of friends dealing with life’s many disappointments. But the show is so close to being the grandly affecting theatrical revelation that we *want* it to be, and I firmly believe that it could achieve those lofty heights with just a bit more work.

A brief history lesson for the uninitiated: Merrily was the sixth collaboration between Stephen Sondheim and Hal Prince, an artistic partnership that gave the world shows like Follies, Company, and Sweeney Todd. It tells the story of Franklin Shepard, a songwriter and film producer who is estranged from virtually everyone, including his longtime lyricist Charley Kringas and their novelist friend Mary Flynn. The story unfolds backwards, slowly revealing how these three inseparable friends ended up hating one another. The musical was such a critical and commercial failure when it opened on Broadway that it not only ended the Sondheim-Prince collaboration, but almost caused the gifted composer to retire from the theatre altogether.

But the show was preserved on a glorious original cast album, one which I have been in love with for many years. This Encores! concert, the latest in a decade-long, city wide fascination with all things Sondheim, was my first chance to see the show on its feet, and judge for myself whether the show (heavily revised by Sondheim and bookwriter George Furth since its initial Broadway run) was as bad as history would have you believe.

And unfortunately, this production doesn’t quite work. But it is so maddeningly close that I can’t help but think that with more time, it could become a truly transcendent theatrical event. The notoriously short Encores! rehearsal period hasn’t provided the performers with enough time to crack these complex characters, leaving us with a show that has its moments but is ultimately unsatisfying.

The book is partially to blame, but there’s no easy way to fix it. The same choice that makes the show fascinating – telling the story in reverse chronological order – also creates a host of challenges. It requires the actors to start the show at such an intense emotional level, where the depth of their bitterness and disappointment should be emanating from their pores, that few would be up to the task even in a traditional setting, let alone the abridged rehearsal period allowed here. Rather than having the entire evening to work up to that level of angst, the characters start at their emotional peak and slowly shed layers of regret to become the hopeful youths seen in the play’s final scene. The reverse narrative also requires the audience to absorb an incredible amount of back story early on, as we try to piece together the various relationships and how they got that way.

I honestly feel that Furth’s book does this in the most economical way possible; the rest is up to the actors and director. Helmer James Lapine and his cast are headed in the right direction here, but have obviously run short on time. More rehearsal, and a longer preview period, would certainly provide all of them with the chance to deepen their own understanding of the text and how to best illustrate that to the audience, which is why I would love to see the show transfer to Broadway and be able to revisit it after they had had a solid month or more to explore it. And everyone knows that Sondheim’s songs (which are at their most heart-wrenchingly beautiful here) can reveal new meanings on each subsequent listening, again making a convincing case for more rehearsal time.

As is, none of the three leads have a strong handle on their characters, although all are respectable actors who have solid moments throughout. As Franklin Shepard, Colin Donnell is so charming that you end up rooting for him even as the character makes some truly repugnant choices. Donnell has a gorgeous singing voice, and enough intelligence to be able to convey the inner conflict that underlies all of Shepard’s actions without ever being voiced. But at least two numbers require Shepard be absolutely reamed by other characters without chance for rebuttal, and Donnell misses the opportunity to really demonstrate the emotional toll it takes on Shepard.

Lin-Manuel Miranda is more problematic as Charley. Though a Tony-nominee for his performance in In the Heights, Miranda is not a singer, and seems to be outside of his natural range for most of the show. Occasionally his acting abilities allow him to compensate, but he is usually too concerned with hitting the right notes to be fully convincing. Yet all this doesn’t stop him from delivering a strong rendition of “Franklin Shepard, Inc,” an incredible piece of musical theatre writing that is one of the greatest gifts Sondheim ever gave a male actor.

But Miranda utterly botches Charley’s other big number, “Good Thing Going,” although I’m not sure he is entirely to blame. A song from Frank and Charley’s work-in-progress show that they sing at a backer’s audition, on the original cast album it is a solo wherein you see Charley’s dawning realization that he is losing his friend to the soulless entertainment industry. Contrasted with some technically dazzling counterpoint from the backers, who are discussing anything but the song they’re hearing, it’s an utterly heartbreaking moment. But in this production the song is a duet for Charley and Frank (mostly Frank) that serves no purpose; it no longer illustrates Charley’s increasing isolation, and the fact that these backers have no interest in making the “art” Charley and Frank aspire to has already been well-established. Now, this may be a rewrite done by Sondheim and Furth (though an ill-advised one), but it reads as if Miranda simply couldn’t sing the song and the music director hastily added Donnell in to compensate. Either way, it kills what could have been one of the most gut-wrenching scenes in the entire show.

Completing the trio of leads is Celia Keenan-Bolger, who does her best with the ill-defined Mary. The show never does a great job of establishing Mary as a character in her own right; she functions purely as a mediator between the bickering Charley and Frank. But given the amount of stage time Mary has and the serious dramatic ambitions of the show, she really should be given more depth than “mediator” and “occasional comic relief.” Keenan-Bolger does a decent job with the one-liners and makes a very convincing drunk in the opening scenes, but can’t overcome the limitations placed on her by the book.

The performer that comes out the best in all of this is Elizabeth Stanley as Gussie Carnegie, the star of Frank and Charley’s Broadway hit and Frank’s second wife. Although Gussie’s function in the story is clear – she’s the temptress that prompts most of Frank’s bad decisions – unlike Mary she is given enough personality and idiosyncrasies to evolve beyond that. Stanley is fantastic in the role, effortlessly capturing the glamour of a bona fide star and the neuroticism that all too often accompanies it. Although she gets plenty of stage time, I found myself wanting more of her, since the show tended to flounder when she was offstage. And as Frank’s first wife Beth, Betsy Wolfe sings and acts well enough, although her rendition of the show’s big ballad “Not a Day Goes By” needs more time to deepen into the emotional sucker punch it can be when sung by someone like Bernadette Peters (who has made it a staple of her concert performances).

Again, this is a show I dearly love, and so part of my disappointment with the Encores! production may stem from lofty expectations. But this production and this cast is clearly headed in the right direction, which makes it even more upsetting that they don’t have the luxury of more time to tackle this behemoth of a show. I suspect the difference between the first and second weekends will be enormous, and who knows what could be achieved with even more time to settle into these roles. Hopefully the reception for the concert staging will be warm enough that some producer risks bringing the show to Broadway, where I think the extra rehearsal time will result in a first rate staging of this important but problematic work.

Best of 2011 Countdown: #2

Best Shows of 2011

#2 – Follies

Jan Maxwell and the ensemble of Follies

From the first drum roll played by the luscious 27-piece orchestra, it is nearly impossible to not be swept away by the sheer grandeur of the current revival of Stephen Sondheim’s Follies.  NY Times head critic Ben Brantley calls the show “one of the greatest musicals ever written,” and everything about this sumptuous production supports his assertion. 

Follies is a legendary musical, one that rarely receives a full-scale production due to its momentous size and logistical complexity.  The score is widely hailed as a masterpiece, and its pastiche-style songs are heavily featured in various Sondheim reviews and cabaret acts around the country.  But one cannot fully appreciate Follies the score without seeing Follies the show, because hearing the songs in context wildly alters their meaning and reveals a nearly unmatched psychological complexity. 

The pastiche songs, all intended to be part of the fictional Weismann Follies from which the show derives its name, provide an excellent comment on the play’s dramatic action, making apparent some heartbreakingly sad lyrical sentiments that can easily get lost among the songs’ upbeat tempos.  And the book numbers are such superb monologues-in-song that you can literally find something new to appreciate with each listening.  Sondheim really outdid himself on this one, and being able to hear these songs sung on a Broadway stage with such an excellent and full orchestra is a delight.

And then there is the disgusting embarrassment of riches that is the revival’s cast.  Although not quite on the same level as her astounding work in A Little Night Music, Bernadette Peters gives an excellent performance as ex-Follies girl Sally Durant Plummer.  Peters makes Sally into a tragically wounded and complex creature lost in the throes of self-delusion, a quality that is especially apparent during her haunting rendition of “In Buddy’s Eyes.”  But so strong is this cast, and so uniformly excellent are the performances, that Peters is by no means the best actor on the stage.

Danny Burstein, who I found to be overrated in South Pacific and actively bad in Women on the Verge, is an absolute revelation as Buddy.  He takes what is probably the least interesting of the central quartet and makes him an utterly fascinating example of a man who simply cannot admit that the woman he loves is no good.  And during his climatic faux-Follies number, “The God-Why-Don’t-You-Love-Me Blues,” Burstein effortlessly becomes the modern reincarnation of a vaudeville comedian.  Burstein simply slays this song and his performance in general, and will almost certainly be Tony-nominated for his efforts.

And then there’s Jan Maxwell.  The brilliant, chameleon-like actress has played every type of role imaginable, but Phyllis Rogers Stone may just end up as her crowning achievement.  Looking positively stunning in her golden gown, Maxwell is the embodiment of the woman who has everything and nothing at the same time.  Trapped in a loveless marriage, Phyllis has built a wall of self-assurance and nonchalance around herself that steadily crumbles throughout the show.  When she finally tears into her husband with one of the greatest gifts Sondheim ever gave an actress, the sensational “Could I Leave You?,” Maxwell explodes with such ferocity and deep seated rage you don’t know whether to cheer or run for the exit.  And then, just in case you weren’t convinced of her brilliance, she stops the show again with her no holds barred song-and-dance routine for “The Story of Lucy and Jessie.”

This revival is one for the ages.  I guarantee that at least once during the show, you will gasp in awe at its sheer brilliance.  This production literally takes your breath away.  For me, two moments in particular stand out:  watching all of the ladies tap dance during “Who’s That Woman?” (the mirror number) while being mirrored by the ghosts of their younger selves in one of the most dizzying choreographic triumphs currently on Broadway, and the reveal of the climatic Loveland sequence, where the split-second fall of the front drop perfectly illustrates the mental break that has just occurred in the four leads and will propel them to the show’s end.  Then there’s the hauntingly gorgeous duet “One More Kiss,” the majestic brilliance of the foreboding overture, the dreamlike interweaving of the ghosts of the characters’ past….I could go on and on.  But it would be much more effective for you to run down to the Marquis Theatre and see for yourself why Follies is one of the best shows of the year, before it fades into memory on January 22^nd.