Big Budget and Spectacle Filled, Even When It Doesn't Need to Be

Review: Tuck Everlasting

Andrew Keenan-Bolger and Sarah Charles Lewis as Jesse Tuck and Winnie Foster in Tuck Everlasting.

Tony-winning director/choreographer Casey Nicholaw certainly seems to know what the people want. He is behind two of the biggest Broadway hits of the past 10 years, The Book of Mormon and Aladdin, and his most recent effort Something Rotten has proven surprisingly popular with both critics and audiences. All three shows share a similar tongue-in-cheek style of humor and an affinity for big song-and-dance production numbers that invoke the modernized spirit of Golden Age Broadway. So while it is admirable that Nicholaw has chosen to stretch himself with the decidedly more introspective and character-driven Tuck Everlasting, his natural instincts are at such odds with the material that this visually sumptuous but emotionally unsatisfying jumble of a show won't fully satisfy fans of either style of musical.

Based on the award-winning 1975 children's novel of the same name, Tuck Everlasting opens with 11-year-old Winnie Foster and her family still in mourning over the death of her father. Since the socially required yearlong mourning period hasn't passed, Winnie finds herself relegated to her house when all she wants to do is get out and explore the world. One night she sneaks out of the house and encounters Jesse Tuck, a 17-year-old boy whose family has a startling secret: they don't age. For the first time in a long time, Winnie feels invigorated by life thanks to her adventures with Jesse, and must contemplate her own mortality and whether or not to forfeit it for a chance to live with Jesse forever.

This fantastical premise opens the door for a surprisingly mature philosophical debate on the benefits and drawbacks of immortality, quite a large question for a family musical to tackle. Claudia Shear and Tim Federle's book handles the issue with grace, keeping the material accessible to children without completely shying away from the story's bittersweet overtones. Unfortunately their handling of plotting and characterization is much more rudimentary, giving us only the broadest sketches of the characters who inhabit this world.

In a better musical, Chris Miller and Nathan Tyson's score would pick up the narrative slack, but here too Tuck Everlasting disappoints. The pair definitely clearly have talent, as evidenced by a handful of charming songs including Winnie's signature "Good Girl Winnie Foster," but is inconsistently displayed here. Miller's melodies can get repetitive and Tyson's lyrics are filled with forced rhymes and poorly worded ideas, shortcomings that are all the more frustrating when other songs in the show lack these problems. Both the book and score can't seem to settle on just how sophisticated they'd like to be, as if scared that becoming too clever will alienate their young audience (this does not seem to be an issue for Tuck's next door neighbor, the exceedingly clever and long-running Matilda).

Muddying the waters even further is Nicholaw's direction, straining and ultimately failing to marry his love of big budget Broadway spectacle with the show's small scale tendencies. Nicholaw repeatedly has his chorus of dancers prancing around in the background during what should be intimate character moments, distracting from rather than adding to the principle casts' performances. And for the amount of choreography present, it is surprisingly generic, with the same handful of moves performed ad nauseam. The show works best when Nicholaw allows the material to speak for itself, such as the simple yet moving Act II ballad "The Wheel" or Winnie and Jesse's first meeting, "Top of the World."

The cast is all charming and likable, even when they are visibly struggling to elevate the material they've been given. Sarah Charles Lewis is quite the find as Winnie, poised and graceful with a pure and lovely voice. Hers is a wonderfully naturalistic, unlabored performance that you wish had informed the rest of the show, as she manages to impress without resorting to flashy tricks. Golden-voiced Andrew Keenan-Bolger is a great foil to Lewis as the forever young Jesse Tuck, matching her youthful energy every step of the way.

Carolee Carmello and Michael Park are underutilized as Ma and Pa Tuck, but do well with what little material they are given. And Robert Lenzi provides a refreshing jolt of mature energy as the elder Tuck son Miles, doing the best job of portraying the emotional strain living forever has taken on the family. As the villain of the story, Terrence Mann is certainly committed to his hammy portrayal, but it is such an odd performance that is never feels either threatening or entertaining, just bizarre.

The show's elaborate production design is certainly pretty to look at, with Walt Spangler's jewel-toned set providing an excellent amount of visual variety over the show's runtime. But while the multi-leveled versatility of Spangler's design is certainly impressive, it ultimately becomes distracting, with every new set piece adding to the production's bloated feeling. Gregg Barnes' costumes are similarly intriguing/off-putting, meticulously realized but bordering on overdesigned. The most successful design element is Kenneth Posner's lighting, which always enhances the storytelling rather than competing with it.

Given the number of high quality family musicals currently playing Broadway, it is difficult to justify the need for Tuck Everlasting. The show is serviceable, but nothing about it seems quite fully formed. No one on the creative team seems to know what type of show they want to make - should it be intimate and character driven or splashy and spectacle-laden? - and that tonal tension is apparent onstage. The youngest audiences members are certain not to care, but more discerning theatregoers can likely find a better family outing among Broadway's many musical offerings (the aforementioned Matilda and Aladdin both spring to mind).

They've Got Magic to Do, and It's Extraordinary

Review:  Pippin

Because it wouldn't be a Fosse show without canes and top hats.

 

There’s no reason to mince words:  Diane Paulus has done it again.  Her revival of Pippin, like her Hair and Porgy and Bess before it, takes a classic piece of musical theatre and effortlessly modernizes it, imbuing it with a vibrancy and relevance that feels wholly contemporary while still respecting what made the show popular to begin with.  Ambitious in scope and stunningly theatrical, this Pippin is above all a celebration of the magic of live performance, a sumptuous feast for the senses brought to life by one of the finest ensembles of this Broadway season.

The story of Pippin is (very) loosely based on the life of the eldest son of King Charlemagne, who ruled over all of Western Europe at the start of the ninth century.  Well-educated but without much purpose in life, Pippin spends the show searching for fulfillment through various pursuits including war, political activism, and even the pleasures of the flesh.  This is all presented as a show-within-a-show performed by a group of traveling Players, enacted for the audience’s enjoyment at the behest of their leader (appropriately called the Leading Player).  The narrative is not without its problems; the libretto by Roger O. Hirson definitely shows its age, and despite some incredibly catchy numbers it is clear this show represents Stephen Schwartz before he gained full command of his musical gifts.

What Pippin needs, and what it gets in Paulus, is a director with a definitive concept to shape the production around.  Paulus’ stroke of genius is making the Players members of an actual circus, similar in style to Cirque du Soleil.  In conjunction with Gypsy Snider of the circus troupe Les 7 doigts de la main, Paulus has filled this revival to the brim with dizzying displays of athletic superiority and acrobatic prowess.  Performers jump, dive, and climb into a mind-boggling array of positions and pairings, all while singing and dancing the Fosse-inspired choreography by Chet Walker.  Between the aerial work, tumbling, knife throwing, fire juggling, and copious amount of magic tricks, your jaw is guaranteed to drop in amazement at least once over the course of the evening.  Yet for all the feats of human agility on display, Paulus keeps a remarkable grip on the actual narrative, portraying it with more clarity and genuine heart than it probably deserves. 

Paulus’ inspired direction is expertly executed by her top-notch cast, a mix of Tony-nominated veterans and Broadway newcomers that are all completely at home here.  As the Leading Player, Patina Miller follows up her star-making debut in Sister Act with another full-throttle performance.  Tackling the song-and-dance role head on, Miller belts to the rafters and uses her lithe frame to embody the Fosse style with surprising dexterity, all the while charming the audience into submission with her winning smile.  In fact, the only complaint that can be leveled against Miller is that she sometimes seems to be working too hard, with her performance lacking the ease of the most accomplished stage actors.

Matthew James Thomas plays Pippin with the appealing earnestness of a young man looking to find his way in the world, and manages to do so without coming across as whiny or petulant.  The character is underwritten and a bit of a cipher, but Thomas more than makes up for it with his winning personality and rock-tinged tenor.  Terrance Mann gives a delightfully hammy performance as Charlemagne, oscillating between doting father and imposing authority figure with ease, and his real life spouse Charlotte d’Amboise portrays his onstage wife, Queen Fastrada, with the perfect mix of political cunning and feigned ignorance.  Finally, special recognition must be given to Tony-winner Andrea Martin’s scene-stealing turn as Pippin’s grandmother Berthe.  Over the course of one ten-minute scene, Martin manages to make one of the strongest impressions of the night and leaves the audience practically begging for more. 

Pippin’s intentionally garish production design only adds to the show’s overall charm, from the barely-there costumes of Dominique Lemieux to Scott Pask’s big top-inspired set.  This revival is a triumph, a coup de theatre that celebrates all that is magical about the Great White Way.  With her bold but wholly organic direction, Paulus has rescued a work in danger of becoming dated and brought it crashing into the 21^st century, appealing to modern sensibilities while still honoring the show’s roots.  There’s plenty of magic to be found in this production, and anyone interested in seeing it should buy their tickets now before they disappear.