My Top 10 Theatre Experiences: Part 1

Ever since Playbill.com started publishing "Their Favorite Things," in which notable Broadway talent lists the 10 Broadway performances that most affected them as audience members, I have toyed with the notion of doing a similar feature on this blog.  But every time I've gone to write it, I've shied away, since making lists of my "favorite" or "the best" theatre is not something I do lightly.  It takes time to fully process the best theatre, and to ensure that your enjoyment was of the piece as a whole and not just a particularly flashy performance or technical element.  There are many productions I enjoyed immensely at the time that I have trouble remembering now, and while those types of shows are certainly valuable experiences they are not ones I feel belong on a "best of" list.

But after a lot of careful consideration, I have (I think) come up with a list that represents the 10 shows that have had the greatest effect on me as person.  These are the shows that made me feel, that made me laugh out loud, fight back tears, and stare in wonder at the sheer amount of talent on display.  I want to be clear:  this is NOT a list of what I consider the 10 Best Shows of All Time.  There are several shows that I adore as pieces of writing that I've never seen a wholly satisfactory production of, and though my theatrical knowledge is broad I don't consider it broad enough to make such sweeping proclamations.

No, this list was created with a pretty specific list of caveats.  It is confined entirely to productions I have personally experienced, and the specific casts I saw in those productions.  Also, I have borrowed Playbill.com's convention of limiting the list to Broadway productions, as it provides a narrower field to choose from (and has honestly been the home of almost all of the best theatre I've seen).  And in making my picks, I focused on productions that were outstanding as a whole, which has led to the exclusion of some of my favorite individual performances because the vehicles they starred in were flawed in some way.  Perhaps one day I'll make a companion list that is performer-based, but for now, a stellar production overrules a singular star turn.

Oh, and one last note: the shows are in alphabetical order, because attempting to rank them from 1 to 10 simply proved too difficult.  At this level, separating number 1 from number 2 or number 9 from number 10 would be splitting hairs.

Here's the start of the list:

August: Osage County

Perfection personified.  The acting ensemble for August: Osage County was everything!

  

On my first trip to New York after college, I bought a seat in the back of the balcony to August: Osage County based entirely on the ecstatic word of mouth from my friends.  The following three-and-a-half hours were some of the most thrillingly theatrical I've ever experienced, as playwright Tracy Letts and the astound ensemble of actors hurled the Great American Drama into the 21st century.  A deftly written dark comedy at turns hilarious and chilling, this Pulitzer Prize-winning masterpiece was riveting, and I left with a renewed sense of excitement about the possibilities of theatre as an artistic medium. 

The cast, all of whom transferred with the play from its world premiere at the Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Chicago, was uniformly astounding, forming a tightly-knit ensemble that truly felt as if they had known each other their entire lives.  They were the Weston clan, and the extended second act dinner scene was one of the greatest master classes in acting that I've ever seen.  And while everyone was phenomenal, I must give special mention to Amy Morton as the eldest Weston daughter, Barbara.  Her slow unraveling under the psychological torture of her monstrous mother was mesmerizing, and her bellowed declaration of "I'm running things now!" at the end of Act II was perhaps the most electrifying curtain line in any play ever.  I would gladly have watched three more hours of such astonishing acting, and to this day August remains one of the finest dramas I've ever experienced.

Avenue Q

Puppets, humans, and Gary Coleman all live in happy harmony down on Avenue Q.

A smartly written, expertly executed examination of the struggles of early twenty-somethings in the new millennium, Avenue Q will forever be remembered as the show that beat megahit Wicked for the 2004 Best Musical Tony.  Having seen both productions just before said award was handed out, I must say that I wholeheartedly agree with the Tony voters' choice.  Avenue Q went far beyond its gimmicky-sounding Sesame-Street-meets-South-Park premise to become the perfect distillation of early-2000s pop culture, and in my opinion had a heart far bigger than the giant set-pieces on display at the Gershwin Theatre.  The show had me *howling* with laughter, even though I knew all of the songs by heart long before I made a trip to the Golden Theatre to actually see the show that contained them.

And while that was in no small part due to the writing, the insanely talented ensemble took the show over the edge as far as quality was concerned.  Most shows have two or three stand-out numbers; in the hands of that original cast, Avenue Q had 8 or 9.  John Tartaglia's and Stephanie D'Abruzzo's dual roles helped show me what true musical theatre acting looks like; when Kate Monster had her confrontation with Lucy the Slut I thought little of it until I realized D'Abruzzo played both characters, at which point my jaw dropped.  And I will never understand how Ann Harada failed to even be nominated for her career-defining work as Christmas Eve; a supremely talented comedienne, Harada had me rolling in the aisles and then blew me away with her powerhouse vocals on "The More You Ruv Someone."  10 years later I can still clearly remember large swaths of this show, and those memories never fail to bring a smile to my face.


That's all for now.  Check back soon for the next 4 shows in my top 10, including the show I'm fairly certain is my favorite theatrical experience of all time.

This Girl is Far from Revolting

Review:  Matilda

It's not a dream; Matilda really is as good as you've heard.

 

The producers of the American premiere of the Olivier-winning smash hit Matilda have done themselves a great disservice by allowing the musical to be marketed as a children’s show.  True, there is nothing anyone but the most overprotective parents would find in the least bit offensive, but there is more wit, intelligence, and invention in this adaptation of the Roald Dahl novel than in any other Broadway musical of the season.  This is a show of supreme sophistication which dares to actually challenge its young audience rather than speak down to them, and offers as many if not more pleasures for the adults lucky enough to find themselves in the audience.

Like the book on which it’s based, the musical follows the misadventures of precocious 5-year-old Matilda as she begins her first year of school.  Unwanted by her vapid and emotionally abusive parents – her father refuses to even acknowledge her gender, repeatedly referring to her as “boy” – Matilda has taken solace in reading and study.  Her incredible intelligence immediately catches the attention of her meek but kind-hearted teacher, Miss Honey, who quietly vows to do everything she can to help Matilda reach her extraordinary potential.  Unfortunately the headmistress of Matilda’s school is the villainous Miss Trunchbull, whose motto “Bambinatum est Maggitum" (“Children Are Maggots”) tells you everything you need to know about why her presence is a problem.

The libretto by Dennis Kelly is a bravura piece of theatrical writing, establishing the show’s off-kilter tone with such assuredness that you buy into it immediately.  Simultaneously oversized and understated, the characters inhabit a realm of magical realism that is utterly fascinating without losing the feeling of familiarity.  Kelly has gifted his hyper-literate lead and her cohorts with some of the sharpest dialogue to grace the musical stage in years, and Matilda’s unending amount of wordplay and dry humor is positively delicious.  Kelly has also created a framing device in which Matilda tells the local librarian serialized fragments of a seemingly inconsequential story that slowly illuminate the quirky intelligence of his heroine and her feelings about the series of mishaps she finds herself in.  And on top of everything else, Kelly also manages to work in some rather biting satire of modern-day parenting without distracting from the main narrative, giving the show an added layer of social commentary on top of its already full plate.

The songs by Tim Minchin are equally inventive.  In fact, one of the few knocks against the show is that between the lightning-fast tempos and the sometimes shrill registers of the children’s ensemble, it is almost impossible to fully comprehend Minchin’s incredibly playful lyrics.  It’s never enough of a problem that it obscures the story, but the lyrics you do catch are so damned clever you can’t help but feel like you’re missing out on something worth hearing.  Musically, the score is light and bouncy, with a few tender ballads thrown in to keep things fresh.  Minchin hasn’t written an enormous number of songs for Matilda, but what is present perfectly balances with Kelly’s dynamite libretto and the needs of the narrative.

Matthew Warchus elevates this already strong material to the next level through his ingenious direction, which keeps the show moving and visual interest high.  He effortlessly conjures up feelings of dread or elation as the situation dictates, and at multiple points his staging is genuinely jaw-dropping (special praise must be given to Matilda’s arrival at her appropriately ominous school, which left me speechless).  Warchus is aided and abetted by the incredible word-tile set of Rob Howell, which has exploded well beyond the confines of the Shubert Theatre stage and taken over the entire auditorium.  If you somehow find yourself bored by the onstage action (an unlikely scenario, to be sure), spotting the thematically important words carefully hidden among the scenery is entertainment onto itself, and this exceptionally versatile set seamlessly transforms into whatever is required.

Matilda is such a stellar example of strong writing and direction that it’s easy to underrate the contributions of the cast, which is uniformly excellent.  Four young actresses share the title role, and if they are all as effortlessly enchanting as young Oona Laurence (who played the performance I saw), we have four future stars on our hands.  There is a nuance and understated complexity to her Matilda that is rarely seen in actors so young, and she effortlessly carries the show on her petite shoulders.  Laurence is complimented by the insanely talented collection of child actors playing her classmates, whose abounding energy has been perfectly harnessed by Warchus and choreographer Peter Darling to create the most gleefully unique bunch of misfits on the Great White Way.  The children’s numbers, of which there are many, are more cleanly executed than those in musicals with adult casts, and not because Darling has dumbed down his steps for the young performers.  These kids are blissfully unaware of how difficult what they’re doing truly is, and their energy is completely infectious.

The adults are thankfully just as good.  Lauren Ward gives a pitch perfect performance as the meekly maternal Miss Honey, beautifully complimenting Matilda’s yearning for love and acceptance with her own.  In addition to sounding lovely, Ward brings exactly the kind of warm, calming presence the role demands.  But it’s the antagonists that get to have the real fun, and all of the nasty adults in Matilda’s life make scenery chewing meals out of their delightfully daffy roles.  As Matilda’s neglectful parents, Lesli Margherita and Gabriel Ebert are utterly despicable and yet endlessly entertaining.  The pair has managed to add enough venom to their performances to be effective without being so harsh that their antics become tiring, and both bring excellent comic timing to their respective roles.  And as Matilda’s impossibly stupid older brother, Taylor Trensch turns his monosyllabic lines into comedy gold.

Towering over everyone else in the cast is Bertie Carvel’s absolutely magnificent turn as Miss Trunchbull, the Olympic-level hammer thrower and headmistress of Matilda’s school.  Carvel’s every hand gesture, facial tic, and change in inflection is completely compelling, a master class in character acting that completely disguises the performer underneath.  Although Carvel’s dressed in drag, with no real effort made to disguise that fact, you instantly believe that he is Trunchbull, thanks to the combination of his unequaled commitment and magnetic stage presence.  It’s difficult to say this perfectly balanced show would be better by adding more of Carvel, but every time the actor leaves the stage you eagerly anticipate his next appearance.

Although imported from London’s West End, everything about Matilda screams Broadway.  It is a show where absolutely everyone involved is working at the highest possible level, from the writers and performers to the production team and the expert craftsmen responsible for the gorgeously detailed sets and costumes.  While the smallest theatregoers may be too young to fully appreciate the brilliance of Matilda, it is a show that can be enjoyed by everyone from age 8 to 80 and beyond.  It is one of the few British transfers that full delivers on the lofty expectations created by its pre-opening buzz, and is not to be missed.

Shakespeare Sings, and It's (Mostly) Beautiful Music

Review:  Love’s Labour’s Lost

It's Shakespeare, but it's fun!  See?  His bowtie is untied and everything!

 

The Public Theatre’s annual Shakespeare in the Park program was started with a very simple mission: to provide free Shakespeare to the entirety of New York City, not just those able to afford the increasingly high price of theatre tickets.  Over the years this mission has expanded to include revivals of other classic playwrights and even the occasional musical, with multiple productions eventually transferring to healthy and critically acclaimed runs on Broadway.  This year the Public is using the program to launch an original musical for only the third time in its history, reuniting the creative team of the Tony-nominated Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson for a reimagining of the Bard’s early comedy Love’s Labour’s Lost.  And while the Public is clearly hoping that the show follows in the footsteps of Two Gentlemen of Verona and The Mystery of Edwin Drood, shows that transferred to Broadway and won Best Musical, this slickly produced new work is in need of at least one major round of rewrites before being ready for the big leagues.

For those unfamiliar with Shakespeare’s original play (and I must confess that I was not), the plot concerns the King of Navarre and three of his noble friends forswearing women and other earthly delights in order to devote themselves to study and personal betterment.  This vow is immediately tested by the arrival of the Princess of France and her entourage, who have come on behalf of her father to discuss some financial matters.  In an attempt to keep his vow the King insists the women camp outside his house rather than enter it, but the noblemen and women soon fall desperately in love.  There is also a subplot involving a Spanish lothario named Armado who is attempting to woo a tavern wench named Jaquenetta, and several other periphery characters that seem to be given a disproportionately large amount of stage time in comparison to their almost complete irrelevance to the plot.

Since I have neither seen nor read the original Shakespeare play, I cannot tell if this production’s narrative problems stem from the original text or from bookwriter/director Alex Timbers’ adaptation of it.  But the problems are definitely there, with multiple characters feeling underwritten and besieged by inconsistent motivations.  The show’s resolution also isn’t nearly as tidy as the almost painfully thorough denouements Shakespeare is known for, although the bizarre tonal shift at the play’s end does stem from the source material.  Timbers would have been better served by cutting several nonessential characters and subplots during his condensation of the show’s narrative, which would have allowed him more time to explore the principle characters and sharpen the thematic parallels between the love story of the nobles and the Armado/Jaquenetta subplot.

On the positive side, Timbers’ reimagining of the characters and setting is often ingenious.  He has reset the show in the present day and recast the noblemen and women as Ivy League college grads.  The men’s vow to devote themselves to further study calls to mind the decision many young people make to enter grad school rather than confront the harsh realities of adult life that their education and upbringing has done so little to prepare them for.  It is a crisis that will be especially familiar to the Millennials in the audience, and makes the play double as a funhouse commentary on the very real challenges facing today’s young adults. 

Timbers also does an excellent job of blending the contemporary jargon found in Michael Friedman’s lyrics with the Shakespearean dialogue used in the book scenes, and does a much better job of integrating Friedman’s rock-influenced score into the show’s structure than the pair managed in Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, whose music often felt like an afterthought.  The score is also much more accomplished than the bare bones affair Friedman created for Bloody Bloody, although the composer still doesn’t have a firm grasp on how to use reprises and often struggles to find appropriate buttons for his sometimes truncated songs.

The slickness of Timbers’ and Friedman’s writing is matched by the outstanding production design.  John Lee Beaty’s unit set is one of the most visually interesting constructions the prolific designer has created for the Delacorte stage, and is perfectly complimented by Jennifer Moeller’s spectacular modern dress costumes.  Jeff Croiter beautifully lights all of the onstage shenanigans, with designs ranging from naturalistic mood lighting to rock concert razzle dazzle with a pit stop into the world of Eastern European performance art strobe lights.  (And while we’re on the subject, the deliciously non-sequitur performance art set piece is easily the highlight of the evening, and one of the most side-splittingly funny moments of the year.)

It is unfortunate that the performances don’t achieve the same uniform cohesion as the physical production.  Some of the actors do great work and some struggle unsuccessfully to make their characters pop, which only serves to highlight the show’s less successful moments.  In general, the women make a greater impression than the men, with Patti Murin’s indignant valley girl Princess emerging as the most consistently engaging performance of the evening.  Murin possesses excellent comic timing and a fine voice, while bringing a depth to the role that almost sells the heavy-handed ending the show is saddled with.  Rebecca Naomi Jones’ Jaquenetta has been gifted with the show’s best song, the smoldering rock ballad “Love’s a Gun,” and she knocks it out of the part.  But most importantly, the women display a genuine camaraderie and sense of teamwork that is sorely lacking among the men.

Colin Donnell comes across the better than the rest of his male costars as Berowne, the most conflicted of the four nobles, but Donnell’s role is more fully developed than most and even at his best he rarely rises above passable.  Daniel Breaker’s King has his moments, although his characterization also feels unintentionally separate from the rest of the noblemen.  Caesar Samayoa plays Armado as a dim puppy dog who is far too eager to please, and his cloyingly indulgent performance will repeatedly test the audience’s patience.  It is disappointing that such a high profile production ended up with such an uneven cast, and there are times where it’s obvious the dubious performances are holding the material back from the greatness it is pursuing.

Despite its many flaws, there is definitely potential in this material.  The writing shows flashes of brilliance and invention without disrespecting its source material, and the rock score is generally pleasing to the ear even if it isn’t particularly memorable.  Unlike too many new musicals, Lost never feels like it’s overstaying its welcome, and the intermissionless two hours is just about the perfect amount of time for it to tell it’s simple but engaging story.  It is often beautiful to look at, with the direction complimenting the design work perfectly.  If the cast doesn’t always reach the level one would hope for, there are certainly more good performances than bad, and several of the young leads are clearly on the cusp of the next level of stardom.  The show isn’t quite strong enough to merit a transfer, so anyone who is interested should hurry out and catch it before it disappears into the balmy summer night.

A Triumphant Return for Broadway's Greatest Funnyman

Review:  The Nance

Nathan Lane commands the stage in his latest tour de force performance, as the title character in Douglas Carter Beane's The Nance.

 

After several forays into the world of musical theatre bookwriting, Douglas Carter Beane returns to his roots as a serio-comedic playwright with The Nance, his latest Broadway venture that is recently finished up its run at the Lyceum Theatre (and will be recorded for broadcast on PBS).  And while the play is certainly a more accomplished work than any of his musical outings, it remains a frustratingly conflicted piece that attempts a variety of things without fully succeeding at any of them.  The play wants to be a probing character study but fails to really explore the motivations of its protagonist.  It wants to make an admittedly topical political statement but ends up feeling preachy and pedantic rather than relevant and illuminating.  It wants to be both a serious drama and a low-brow comedy, but rather than complimenting one another each of these disparate elements continually undercuts the effectiveness of the other.

But at the play’s center is a Herculean performance so electric, so accomplished in its specificity and authenticity that it almost succeeds in elevating the play to the lofty realms which it so obviously aspires to.  Nathan Lane’s work as protagonist Chauncey Mills is nothing short of extraordinary, reasserting his status as one of the most accomplished stage actors of his generation.  With no disrespect meant to his very talented costars, Lane acts circles around everyone else onstage, and actually manages to make the play’s disparate tones seem organic and even necessary. 

The plot centers on Lane’s Chauncey Mills character, a man who has made a name for himself doing burlesque skits in Depression Era New York City.  Mills’ signature role is that of the overtly effeminate stock character dubbed “The Nance,” a professional choice made infinitely more complex by the fact that Mills is himself gay.  After years of anonymous sex with strangers, Mills seduces a young man named Ned who is just coming to grips with his own sexuality, and to the surprise of both men they find themselves entering a long-term relationship together.  Meanwhile, Mills’ burlesque theatre and his act in particular are coming under increasing pressure from city officials taking a stance against indecency, forcing the outspoken Mills to make a choice between being himself and suppressing his true nature to fit in.

It cannot be overstated how brilliant Nathan Lane is in the central role. From the opening moments of the show until the final curtain, Lane dominates the stage and exhibits such mastery of his craft that even his accomplished costars look like amateurs in comparison.  The play gives him ample opportunity to demonstrate his dramatic chops, while simultaneously providing him with an unending string of zingers and comic bits that utilize his unparalleled sense of comedic timing.  Throughout the play we are treated to excerpts from Mills’ stage act, and Lane absolutely kills in these scenes of perfectly reconstructed vaudeville comedy.  Where a normal actor would earn one laugh Lane manages to get three, often by using little more than a cock of the eyebrow or a sideways glance at the audience.  More miraculous still is Lane’s ability to make such carefully calculated choices feel utterly spontaneous, leaving the audience with the impression that this virtuosic performance is being created from scratch each night.

And while none of his costars are operating on Lane’s level (there are few actors in the world that could match such inspired lunacy), the rest of the cast turns in fine performances in their own right.  In his Broadway debut, Jonny Orsini charts a beautifully realized journey of self-acceptance as Mills’ lover Ned, and watching him realize that his sexuality doesn’t automatically prevent him from enjoying the perks of a domesticated life is particularly poignant in this time when marriage equality is on the forefront of the national debate.  If there is one criticism of Orsini’s performance it’s that he plays the character rather dumb, which at times comes into direct conflict with the highly literate dialogue playwright Beane has provided all of the characters.

Lewis J. Stadlen plays the lovably gruff Efram with aplomb, and makes an excellent foil for Lane during the burlesque skits that are the show’s highlight.  In a lesser actor’s hands Efram’s discomfort with Mills’ sexuality would make him the clear villain of the piece, but Stadlen tempers his performance with enough begrudging respect to make it clear that Efram isn’t a bad person.  As the trio of burlesque dancers that work at the same theatre, Cady Huffman, Jenni Barber and Andrea Burns make for excellent support, although the writing doesn’t do enough to differentiate their three characters.  Huffman (reunited with Lane after they both won Tonys for The Producers a decade ago) makes the strongest impression, although she is unfortunately saddled with the most overtly political and unnecessarily knowing dialogue.

Director Jack O’Brien keeps the evening moving at a steady pace, and during the show’s final twenty minutes manages to synthesize the disparate bits and repeating motifs into something resembling resonance.  He is aided immensely by John Lee Beaty’s marvel of a rotating set, which allows for virtually seamless transitions from one locale to the next.  Ann Roth clearly had a ball with the period costumes, and her designs for the burlesque outfits in particular possess just the right amount of winking outlandishness.  The lights and sound by Japhy Weideman and Leon Rothenberg get the job done but aren’t particularly memorable, and the original music by Glen Kelly is a nice if unassuming addition to the proceedings.

Ultimately, The Nance’s primary reason for being is to provide Nathan Lane with a showcase for his immense talents, and in that respect it succeeds wholeheartedly.  The comedic genius’ work manages to elevate Douglas Carter Beane’s passable script into something approaching greatness, and everyone involved has graciously taken a backseat while letting the master work his magic.  It is a worthwhile evening for those who are interested, although I do hope that Lane’s next Broadway outing is in a vehicle more worthy of his extraordinary gifts.

Close Enough to Heaven, Despite a Few Flaws

Review:  Far From Heaven

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2013 Tony Predictions: Best Play and Musical

It’s finally here!  Broadway’s big night is upon us, and I’ve saved the two biggest categories for last.  The Best Play and Best Musical awards not only represent the highest possible achievement in American theatre, but they also guarantee a new work a place in the history books forever more.  Winning either of these awards not only increases the Broadway mounting’s chances of turning a profit, but greatly increases the amount of money a show can make from subsequent tours and regional mountings. 

 

Of course, such a prestigious award always comes with its fair share of controversy.  There are some that feel the Tony Awards have a habit of honoring commercial viability over artistic excellence, and there are plenty of fantastic, enduring works of theatre that went home empty handed on Tony night (Ragtime and West Side Story come to mind).  But the awards still mean something, and more often than not the shows honored are excellent artistic achievements even if they aren’t necessarily the *most* deserving.  So which shows will be the big winners tonight?  Read on to find out.

 

Best Play

Only Christopher Durang would find a way to connect Chekhov and Snow White.  That's gotta be worth some kind of award right there.

 

Nominees:  The Assembled Parties; Lucky Guy; The Testament of Mary; Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike

 

An interesting and eclectic assortment of shows, this year’s Best Play race isn’t as chock-full of the high-minded (and oftentimes stuffy) dramas that Tony voters usually fawn over.  The biggest surprise in this category is probably the inclusion of the Fiona Shaw-led The Testament of Mary, a show that posted its closing notice the same day as the announcement.  I can’t imagine it winning, but as they say, it’s an honor just to be nominated.

Heading into the awards season, I thought The Assembled Parties would be a much stronger contender than it’s turned out to be.  Mounted by highly respected Manhattan Theatre Club, the show was roundly praised by critics for its nuanced writing and all-around excellent performances.  But with only three Tony nominations to its name, the show is definitely this year’s dark horse; it *could* win, but the chances of that actually happening are miniscule.

This is really a two-way race between Lucky Guy and Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike.  The final work written by the beloved Nora Ephron before her death, Lucky Guy is one of the biggest commercial successes of the season, and features bona fide movie star Tom Hanks in his Broadway debut.  But for all of the kind words written about Lucky Guy, I get the sense that most people know it is not a great play, and are cutting it some slack due to their nostalgia for its departed author.  Meanwhile, Vanya and Sonia has been racking up the wins in this season’s other awards races, and despite a prolific career playwright Christopher Durang has never actually won a Tony.  I think this is the year that changes, and it will mark the first time an outright comedy has won the Best Play trophy since Lost in Yonkers won back in 1991.

Should Win:  The Assembled Parties

Will Win:  Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike

 

Best Musical

Kinky Boots leads this year's Tony nominations and is one of the frontrunners for the big award, because really, how can you go wrong with drag queens?

 

Nominees:  Bring It On: The Musical; A Christmas Story; Kinky Boots; Matilda the Musical

 

I was as surprised as anyone to see Bring It On and A Christmas Story nominated in this category, but it represents the rare instance where my surprise stems from the fact that the nomination committee and I completely agree.  The four nominated shows this year are the season’s four best new musicals, and I applaud the committee for nominating two shows that could have easily been dismissed due to their limited-run nature (a rarity for new musicals).  However, it must also be said that both shows fall into the category of “it’s an honor just to be nominated,” because this is clearly a race between Kinky Boots and Matilda.

Matilda is the quintessential British import; after an acclaimed run in the London, the production has transferred to New York to similarly rapturous reviews, and seems as concerned with impressing the audience through its sheer theatricality as it is with telling a compelling story.  Meanwhile Kinky Boots is a wholly American creation (albeit one based on a British film) whose primary concern is entertaining the audience through song and dance.  The show avoids being complete fluff by having a message about acceptance of yourself and others, although it is a point made by many, many shows before it and hardly registers due to all the glitz and glamor.

These shows are so neck and neck that even industry veterans aren’t sure which way things will go, but my heart is telling me that Kinky Boots will emerge victorious.  The show is extremely easy to like, and while it breaks little new ground the tuner is extremely well-crafted on all fronts.  The emphasis on more accessible nominees in all the categories this year tells me that the Tony voters are in the mood for something a bit more fun, and I honestly think the theatrical community as a whole has overdosed on British theatre in the past few seasons.  I personally found Kinky Boots to be the most compelling and successful of this year’s new musicals, and think its win will be well deserved.  But I also don’t rule out Matilda, and it will be extremely interesting to see how things turn out this evening.

Will & Should Win:  Kinky Boots

 

And that’s a wrap!  We’ve reached the end of another Tony season, and I have again written exhaustively about my thoughts on all things Broadway.  I hope you’ve enjoyed the coverage, and I thank everyone who has been so supportive of my little hobby.  As you wait for the big show later tonight, feel free to look back on all of my other predictions and Tony-related coverage below.

 

Best Revival
Best Actor
Best Actress
Best Featured Actor
Best Featured Actress
Best Book and Score
Best Direction and Choreography
2013 Tony Nomination React
2013 Tony Roundtable Podcast

2013 Tony Predictions: Best Revival

All of Broadway is brimming with anticipation for the big Tony Award ceremony on Sunday, and here at Broadway, Etc. there are only four more races to predict.  The production awards are perhaps the most prestigious of them all, as they acknowledge the work of everyone involved rather than particular individuals, indicating that the entire work is of the highest artistic merit.  These are the awards that are also most likely to affect a show’s bottom line, with a Best Musical win in particular proven to majorly increase a show’s box office.  Today we’ll be looking at this season’s nominated revivals and predicting which shows will walk away the big winners.

 

Best Revival of a Play

Tracy Letts and Amy Morton in the acclaimed 50th anniversary production of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

 

Nominees:  Golden Boy, Orphans, The Trip to Bountiful, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

 

To me, the most deserving production in this category is obvious.  The latest Broadway mounting of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? was not just this season’s best play revival, but the season’s best theatre period.  Under director Pam MacKinnon, the four person cast found an enormous amount of humor and emotional depth in the oft-produced American classic, making it feel as relevant and timely today as it did when it premiered fifty years ago.  Every aspect of the production was of the utmost quality, and despite all of the shows that have opened since it remains one of the most vivid and affecting nights I’ve had on Broadway all year.  Any other show winning would feel like blasphemy.

That said, I felt similarly about last season’s revival of Follies, and it was beaten by the upstart Porgy and Bess (which was admittedly very well-done).  I could envision a similar coup happening with Roundabout’s The Trip to Bountiful, as that well-liked show is the only one of the four nominees still running, and Cicely Tyson’s performance in particular is one of the most buzzed about of the season.  And last fall’s revival of Golden Boy received ecstatic reviews, with nary an unkind word spoken about it during or since.  In fact, the only show I have difficultly making a compelling case for is Orphans, which couldn’t manage to finish out its limited run despite edging out several other high-profile contenders for its slot among this year’s nominees.  But this is one category where I honestly don’t see anyone but the most deserving candidate winning, and so I have to give my vote to Virginia Woolf.

Will & Should Win:  Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

Best Revival of a Musical

Chances are they've already engraved the Best Revival of a Musical trophy with Pippin's name, as the show is a shoo-in for the win.

 

Nominees:  Annie; Cinderella; The Mystery of Edwin Drood; Pippin

 

Perhaps the surest bet of the night, this category is clearly Pippin’s to lose, and I honestly can’t see any of the other nominated shows upstaging the circus-themed revival.  For whatever reason, the Tony voters clearly have little love for the James Lapine-helmed Annie, as this category marks the production’s sole nomination.  Its inclusion probably has as much to do with excluding the only other eligible show, the much-maligned Jekyll & Hyde, as it did with honoring the child-friendly revival.  And though delightfully entertaining while it was running, Roundabout’s The Mystery of Edwin Drood has practically faded from memory since it closed in early March.

The only potential fly in the ointment is the revised Cinderella, which despite a myriad of problems managed to secure nine Tony nominations.  How this complete butchering of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s telemovie managed to so greatly impress the nominating committee is beyond me, but I think it has enough detractors to keep it from being a serious threat.  There is also a contingent of voters who rightly question whether the show is a revival at all, as Cinderella has never before played Broadway and the current incarnation is so heavily rewritten that it bears shockingly little resemblance to the show most voters are familiar with.  Barring a major upset, Diane Paulus’ high-flying, spectacle-fueled Pippin will easily and deservedly dance away with this award, as the truly magical night at the theatre is a celebration of all that makes Broadway grand.

Will & Should Win:  Pippin

 

All that’s left to predict are the two biggest Tony races, Best Play and Best Musical.  Check back soon for that post, and tune in Sunday evening to see how well I did when the Tony Awards air live on CBS.  Until then, feel free to click the links below to the rest of my Tony coverage:

 

Best Actor

Best Actress
Best Featured Actor
Best Featured Actress
Best Book and Score
Best Direction and Choreography
Tony Nomination React
2013 Tony Roundtable Podcast