Matilda Just Recouped, and That's a Bad Thing

The revolting children of Broadway's Matilda are officially in the black, which should make saving for their college funds significantly easier.

Matilda recently announced it had officially recouped the entirety of its $16 million capitalization, meaning the production is finally in the black. Any money made over its weekly operating costs is pure profit at this point, a milestone only an estimated 1 in 4 Broadway productions reach. And while this is an excellent celebration for Matilda and its producers (who will hopefully put some of those profits into developing more new work), the implications for the greater Broadway community are a little more troubling.

You see, by pretty much every metric Matilda is an unqualified success. Critics (myself among them) loved the show, giving it across the board raves for its inventive staging, winsome performances, and clever writing that challenges rather than talks down to its family audience. The production is often sold out, and even on a bad week rarely dips below 80% capacity. It routinely brings in over $1 million in weekly grosses, and shows no signs of slowing down almost 2 years into its run. Come January, the only other show still running show from the 2012-2013 Broadway season will be Kinky Boots, the musical the beat Matilda in that year's Best Musical race (and in hindsight, Matilda is probably the more deserving show).

So why on earth did it take Matilda so long to turn a profit? Kinky Boots turned a profit over a year ago, no doubt bolstered by a summer of sell-out business following its Best Musical win. That season's Best Musical Revival, Pippin, also recouped around the same time, although to be fair its capitalization was only half of Matilda's. To be doubly fair, Pippin's weekly grosses were often far below Matilda's during the same timeframe.

The obvious answer for the delay is that Matilda, like a growing number of Broadway shows and especially new musicals, cost a lot of money to mount. The cast is large, especially when taking into account that many of the children's roles are doubled or even tripled. Add in the fact that the production is contractually obligated to hire child wranglers to supervise all these minors and you have another major expense. The set is rather intricate, and there are several special effects that are surely driving up the weekly running costs. A higher weekly nut (the industry term for a show's running costs) means less of the gross can go towards paying back investors, something that surely slowed the show's progress towards turning a profit.

However, the nearly 2 year saga of Matilda's inching towards profitability begs the questions: what is wrong with Broadway budgeting when even a hit takes so long to recoup? Did the show really *need* all 16 million of those dollars, or is a large chunk of that tied up in needless waste from redundant union contracts and unnecessarily costly production elements? The show's high price tag is especially disheartening when you learn that the production team actually cut certain expenses present in the London production in an effort to keep costs down, and the Broadway mounting still costs almost 4 times its West End counterpart (where theatre is much more heavily subsidized by the government).

This is ludicrous, and it is a problem that no one in the Broadway industry seems particularly keen on tackling. It is the main reason ticket prices continue to climb, making theatre an ever more elitist art form instead of the populist entertainment it used to be. The average person cannot afford a $135 ticket more than once or twice a year, if that. But when your show costs $16 million and you want to pay back your investors' money, you can understand why producers feel the need to charge that much. Which in turn begins a cycle where people want to see something that looks like it costs that much, which again raises prices, which continues ad naseum until you end up with an ungainly monstrosity so focused on the spectacle it becomes a creative nightmare (Spider-Man being the most high profile recent example).

This is not an easy problem to fix, and solving it will take a seismic change in the way the industry works. First and foremost, everyone should probably take a pay cut, something that will of course be horribly unpopular but is ultimately an investment in the future of the industry. No one will have any jobs if costs end up pricing theatre out of reach for all but the wealthy elite. The pay cut doesn't necessarily have to come from the salary if the unions would make some concessions in other areas; for instance, maybe the stagehand and musician unions take a long, hard look at how many people they require Broadway shows to hire. And as very few actors manage to qualify for Equity's healthcare but the universal payment amount to a major production expense, maybe producers could stop being required to pay into the system for actors who don't opt in.

Secondly, all designers and directors should really adopt a less is more approach. There are some eye-popping special effects in Matilda that are plot driven and need to be included, but there are also things like lasers which may look cool but don't particularly add much to the show other than running costs. In my experience, some of the most effective theatrical moments are the simplest, the ones that embrace stagecraft rather than trying to produce a literal representation of whatever they're meant to portray (something film is significantly better at, anyway). The Lion King is one of the most spectacle driven shows on Broadway, and the moment that most took my breath away was one of the simplest: a bright blue piece of fabric being pulled through an upstage hole, simply and elegantly conveying the drought that plagues the African savannah.

Now of course artists need to make money, and I'm not arguing that we suddenly start paying the most talented people in our industry nothing. And I'm certainly not against spectacle or lavish production elements when warranted, as they contribute to some of the magic of theatre. But being more selective about how productions spend their money is probably a good idea. There's no reason for a hit show like Matilda to take 2 years to turn a profit, especially in an age when the average length of a Broadway run is growing shorter. Many shows - even well received ones - can't count on running 2 years, so any budget that requires that much time to turn a profit isn't the most fiscally responsible. Addressing these issues will take a major shift in the way producers and unions think about Broadway budgets, and will take some self sacrifice on everyone's part in order to ensure the future health of the medium. But if no action is taken, Broadway will soon go the way of opera, catering to a small, elite minority rather than the masses. And that would be a true tragedy of Shakespearean proportions.

A Premature Defense of "Peter Pan Live"

Allison Williams gets all glammed up for NBC's Peter Pan Live!

Last year, NBC took a gamble and tried something that hadn't been done in decades: a live Broadcast of a full scale musical. The Sound of Music was the show, and Grammy-winner Carrie Underwood was chosen to play the lead role of Maria in an obvious attempt to court her sizable fan base (spoiler alert: it worked). From the moment Underwood was announced, a vocal segment of the population began proclaiming the endeavour a disaster waiting to happen. These people began looking forward to the show with the same gleeful cynicism that caused them to eagerly devour the many missteps of the ambitious but flawed TV show Smash (a show I still miss from time to time, ill-advised Bollywood numbers and all).

The Sound of Music Live premiered to big numbers, although critical reaction ranged from "not terrible" to "unholy affront to the gods of film and theatre." But the numbers are really all that matter, and with 18 million viewers Underwood and company were clear winners. High on their success, NBC announced their intent to make these live musicals an annual event, with this year's edition being Peter Pan. The 1954 musical is best remembered for Mary Martin's Tony-winning performance as the Boy Who Won't Grow Up, which was preserved via an incredibly popular television Broadcast that was eventually released on home video. Attempting to fill Martin's big shoes is Allison Williams, who is perhaps the fourth or fifth most famous person to appear on HBO's buzzed about but only haphazardly viewed Girls, and her nemesis Captain Hook will be played by Oscar-winning film actor Christopher Walken.

Like last year, many are dubious about the artistic prospects of this broadcast. Williams is a largely unknown commodity, and Walken at this point is probably more famous for his distinctively bizarre mannerisms than his acting talent. I will admit that I fully expect it to be a disaster (I cannot imagine Walken in any kind of musical situation that doesn't involve more cowbell), partly due to casting and partly due to the fact that Peter Pan is a much weaker show than The Sound of Music, which for all its saccharine sweetness does feature a solid narrative and songs so catchy they have entered the popular consciousness. That said, anyone who complains about the existence of Peter Pan Live is missing the point.

First and foremost, a live musical broadcast like this is massive exposure for musical theatre at a time when it is not at the forefront of the pop culture conversation. Even if Pan draws only half the audience of The Sound of Music, that is still 9 million people who took 3 hours out of their day to watch a musical. For comparison's sake, the Broadway production of Wicked would have to sell out every performance for nearly 12 years to be seen by that many people (and it is playing Broadway's biggest theatre). That is a lot of people being exposed to theatre, and if even a fraction of a percent of those viewers are then motivated to buy tickets to a live performance it will be a lot of extra bodies in seats.

One major complaint levied against NBC (and most film adaptations of musicals, really) is that they opt for Hollywood talent over actors with theatrical backgrounds for the leads, robbing arguably more qualified people of work. While casting filmed musicals exclusively with Broadway talent is nice in theory, it is also wilfully ignoring the business side of the industry. The fact of the matter is that name talent attracts both viewers and investors, and without someone like Walken involved it is far less likely the whole enterprise would even get off the ground.

And while the two leads in  Peter Pan have dubious connections to the theatre at best, the supporting cast and ensemble are stuffed to the brim with Broadway talent. This is both work and exposure for some of Broadway's best and brightest (Kelli O'Hara and Christian Borle both have pivotal roles), and as anyone in the industry will tell you TV pays a good deal more than theatre. The money from a project like this will help give these hard working actors a financial cushion so they can continue to pursue passion projects like The Bridges of Madison County or Peter and the Starcatcher.

Now yes, you could argue that a subpar production would ultimately turn people off of live theatre. But in the same way that seeing a bad movie doesn't make people swear off films forever, I don't believe seeing one or even a few bad musicals is enough to make people avoid them for the rest of their lives. The prohibitive cost of live theatre is doing a lot more to turn people away from the medium than one or two bad productions.

So feel free to watch Peter Pan Live and (not so) secretly root for it to be awful. That is everyone's right, and no one can stop you. In all honesty, I would much rather the broadcast reach legendary levels of awfulness than have it just be mediocre. But in between any snarky comments and barbed critiques, do keep in mind that whatever the artistic quality of the show, it is doing a lot of good for the theatrical community. NBC has been one of Broadway's biggest Hollywood allies, casting scores of New York talent for its various shows. Mounting a live broadcast on this scale is no easy feat, and it would have been much easier for the network to schedule a Saturday Night Live clip show during Peter Pan's 3 hour slot. But NBC has chosen to present a Broadway musical to a wider audience, and has looked locally for most of their onscreen and behind the scenes talent. We should be grateful, even if we are secretly hoping for them to cast Jessie Mueller and Norbert Leo Butz in their already announced Music Man.

One final thought: Tony winners Kristin Chenoweth and Matthew Broderick couldn't do anything to help ABC's telemovie version of the same show, proving Broadway talent does not automatically equal success.

Come Look at the Freaks

Review: Side Show

Ryan Silverman, Emily Padgett, Erin Davie, and Matthew Hydzik star in the Broadway revival of the cult musical Side Show.

It's impossible to know what exactly caused Side Show's criminally short run on Broadway when it first opened in late 1997. By all accounts it was a strong production that made enough of a an impression to snag 4 Tony nominations despite closing in early January in a competitive season which birthed modern masterpiece Ragtime and box office juggernaut The Lion King. The production made stars of Alice Ripley and Emily Skinner, and as demonstrated by the original cast album Henry Krieger and Bill Russell's score is simply top notch. Perhaps opening on Broadway without the benefit of an out of town tryout hurt the show, or maybe the dark subject matter (about real life conjoined twins Daisy and Violet Hilton) scared away potential audience members. Hopefully this excellent new production, under the direction of Oscar winner Bill Condon, meets with more financial success, as it is the kind of ambitious musical drama that is all too rare on Broadway today.

This is not quite the Side Show that opened on Broadway in the fall of 1997. The basic premise, which traces Daisy and Violet's rise from side show attractions to one of the highest paid acts in vaudeville, remains the same as in the original, but many of the details have been changed and updated. Krieger and Russell have heavily reworked the material with a major assist from Condon, who also receives bookwriting credit on the new version, restructuring what was a largely sung-through piece into a more traditional book musical. While I am only passingly familiar with the show's original incarnation, I can report that this new version boasts an excellent, character driven libretto that is lean and tight, with nary an extraneous scene or musical interlude during its fast paced two and a half hour runtime. In fact, if there is any fault in the writing, it is that the issues it broaches are so fascinating that you're often left wanting more.

The show is refreshingly light handed and nuanced when it comes to any kind of message or "lesson" to be learned. Daisy, Violet, and their fellow side show attractions are never portrayed as helpless victims despite the abuse they suffer, and even the less savory characters are given believable motivations and redeeming qualities. Many of the people in Side Show do bad things, but the script mercifully avoids labeling any of them as bad people, choosing instead to let the audience pass judgment if they're so inclined. The romantic elements of the show cover some well worn territory (apparently the vaudeville circuit is a breeding ground for unrequited love), but the added wrinkle of having two distinct protagonists literally attached at the hip gives those stories enough new complications to keep things interesting.

The cast is anchored by two breakthrough performances from Emily Padgett and Erin Davie as Daisy and Violet, respectively. Simultaneously approachable and ethereal, both actresses do an excellent job of delineating their two characters while keeping them separate halves of the same whole. They truly feel as if they have been with one another their entire lives, with a complex and layered relationship that plays out as much in looks and wordless communication as it does in actual lines and songs. Their voices blend seamlessly during their many duets, and truly soar during their two big numbers, the Act I closer "Who Will Love Me As I Am?" and the rousing, climactic "I Will Never Leave You." The later is a particularly impressive display of vocal and acting ability, even if the number's staging represents one of Condon's few directorial missteps (to state exactly how Condon went wrong risks spoiling the ending).

As the manager and choreographer who discover the Hiltons, Ryan Silverman and Matthew Hydzik also give excellent performances. Silverman's Terry offers a bit more substance, especially in the revealing "Private Conversation," and the smooth-voiced baritone does particularly well with that number. The immensely charming Hydzik is slightly underutilized as Buddy (one suspects there was more to his character arc than the authors had time for), but he makes the most of what he's given. And David St. Louis brings an extraordinary amount of depth to the role of Jake, the twin's closest friend who has secretly been pining for Violet for years. St. Louis leads the rousing "The Devil You Know," and his "You Should Be Loved" in Act II is another show highlight.

The show's production design is less consistent than the performances, with some sections looking beautiful and others like a bit of an afterthought. David Rockwell's set design for the initial side show is a wonderfully varied collection of platforms and staircases in a beautifully muted color palette, both striking and run down at the same time. As the twins move up in the world, backdrops begin to take the place of actual set pieces, which can make the large stage at the St. James look a tad sparse. Thankfully Paul Tazewell's costumes and the lighting design by Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer pick up the slack, adding some Broadway glitz and glamour to go with the twins' newfound fame. And Dave and Lou Elsey deserve special mention for the fantastic job they've done on the special makeup for the various side show performers, which strikes the perfect balance between being repulsive and oddly appealing.

Overall, Condon and his crew have done a remarkable job overhauling Side Show in a way that feels true to the spirit of the original, keeping a laserlike focus on the storytelling and character elements. Uniformly fine performances by the supporting cast and truly great work from stars Padgett and Davie further elevate the material, and while the production design can seem bare bones that starkness often works in the piece's favor. Now it's up to audiences to ensure this production has a longer life than the ill-fated original, as this is theatre that deserves to reach the widest audience possible.

A Dazzling, Inventive, and Moving "Incident"

Review: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

Julliard grad Alexander Sharp makes one of the most impressive debuts in recent memory as autistic teen Christopher Boone in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

You have to hand it to those Brits: they certainly aren't afraid of innovative staging techniques. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, the latest dazzlingly theatrical import from London's West End, is one of the most visually arresting plays of the year, featuring an endlessly inventive staging by director Marianne Elliott and co-choreographers Scott Graham and Steven Hoggett. But more importantly, the show (adapted by Simon Stephens from Mark Haddon's bestselling novel) is an engaging, thought-provoking, and utterly moving examination of the challenges faced by an autistic teen and the fallible people tasked with raising him.

Although no one in the show ever utters the "A" word, it is clear that 15 year old Christopher Boone falls somewhere along the autism spectrum. He doesn't like to be touched, has trouble interacting with people who don't say what they mean (metaphors are a particular source of irritation), and interruptions to his routine often prompt wild outbursts. At the same time, Christopher is a mathematical genius whose ordered and logical view of the world translates into a special aptitude with numbers and observation. The play opens with Christopher being accused of murdering his neighbor's dog, and initially follows his quest to find the real culprit despite his father's insistence Christopher mind his own business. To give away much more would spoil the surprise, but let it be said that this curious incident prompts a journey far more concerned with Christopher and his relation to the world than with the death of a domesticated animal.

Christopher is brilliantly embodied by newcomer Alexander Sharp, fresh out of Julliard and making one of the most impressive Broadway debuts in years. Sharp's every tic, mannerism, and carefully selected syllable together create a wholly convincing and completely compelling portrayal of a very special young man. Both Sharp and the play refuse to let Christopher be defined or limited by his condition, but they also don't shy away from the very real challenges faced by an autistic youth in the modern world. More so than any play I've come across, Curious Incident places you inside its protagonist's head and makes you see the world through his eyes. The script, staging, and Sharp's deeply felt performance all combine to make Christopher extremely sympathetic and ensure the audience remains invested in his journey until the very end.

While Sharp does the lion's share of the play's heavy lifting, he is ably supported by the extremely capable ensemble. Francesca Faridany provides a beautifully warm, welcoming presence as Christopher's teacher Siobhan, anchoring the show with her earthy tones and calm demeanor. Ian Barford and Enid Graham do standout work as Christopher's flawed but deeply loving parents; Graham has an especially heartwrenching scene towards the end of the first act that is one of the most honest pieces of acting of the evening. The other members of the ensemble play a collection of bit parts with minimal lines, but they all still manage to make their characters pop. In fact it is the ensemble, more than anyone else on stage, who allows Sharp to soar.

That last sentence is meant literally. The ensemble hoists, lifts, and flips Sharp through a dizzying array of gravity-defying choreography that sends this production's wow factor through the roof. It's difficult to tell where Elliott's staging ends and the choreography by Misters Graham and Hogett begins, so best to just give them joint credit for the most inventive staging to grace Broadway this season. Using little more than the human body, they find ways to make Christopher walk on walls and fly through the air, creating a heightened version of reality that provides vast amounts of insight into how he sees the world.

Elloitt and her team also make excellent use of Bunny Christie's deceptively simple set. Augmented by Finn Ross' sensational video design, what initially appears to be little more than a black box with gridlines becomes a character in and of itself. Lit to perfection by Paule Constable, the set provides an added window into Christopher's ordered yet chaotic mind that is never less than fascinating to look at. Add in the sound design by Ian Dickinson and the electronica-tinged music by Adrian Sutton and Curious Incident becomes a sensory experience unlike any other.

It's easy to get carried away by the stagecraft on display, but all of the special effects in the world are wasted if the story they're supporting isn't worth telling. Thankfully, Christopher's journey of self discover is very much worth the effort, providing a window into the world of an autistic youth on his way to self discovery. Especially as portrayed by the sensational Mr. Sharp, Christopher has a great deal to teach us about perseverance and understanding in a moving narrative about the struggles of everyday life. The fact that these lessons come in a such a glossy, high tech package is only icing on the proverbial cake.

Despite the Star Power, It's Only a Play

Review: It's Only a Play

Rupert Grint, Megan Mullally, Matthew Broderick, Nathan Lane, and Stockard Channing anxiously await their opening night reviews in Broadway's It's Only a Play.

There is no lack of star wattage over at the Schoenfeld Theatre, home to the smash hit revival of Terrance McNally's 1978 comedy It's Only a Play. It's hard to recall the last time so many film and theatrical heavyweights were gathered on one stage, with this production's cast having collectively earned 5 Tonys, 6 Emmys, and 1 Oscar (not to mention dozens more nominations and plenty of widespread acclaim). But despite an unquestionably high level of talent, this mighty ensemble struggles and ultimately fails to elevate McNally's heavily updated script into something greater than what it is: an overlong and only haphazardly funny pseudo-farce.

The premise seems rife for comedic gold: at the opening night party, playwright Peter Austin (Matthew Broderick) is anxiously waiting for the reviews of his latest Broadway play, financed by first time producer Julia Budder (Megan Mullally) and directed by British wunderkind Frank Finger (Rupert Grint). Also on hand are Austin's best friend James Wicker (Nathan Lane), who turned down the play's lead role due to his television commitments; booze-addled leading lady Victoria Noise (Stockard Channing); legendarily harsh drama critic Ira Drew (F. Murray Abraham); and a coat check boy who landed this gig on his first night in New York City (newcomer Micah Stock, who probably doesn't have to dig too deep to portray his character's starry eyed admiration). We learn very early on that despite his outward praise, Wicker hated Austin's play - aptly titled The Golden Egg - and is secretly hoping for validation of his feelings from the press, including the all important Ben Brantley from The New York Times.

McNally's setup easily lends itself to off the wall characterizations and more theatrical in jokes than you can shake a stick at; Bernadette Peters, Liza Minelli, and Tommy Tune are just a few of the many theatrical personalities that are mentioned and mocked to varying degrees. However, the ultimately thin premise struggles to fill the production's two-and-a-half hour runtime, and you can't help but think everyone would have been better served by condensing the play down to one act. While some of McNally's barbs are truly hilarious, others feel weirdly out of place in a show that never lets you forget you're watching theatrical royalty. This production embodies many of the theatrical movements it rails against, with complaints about celebrity led revivals and digs at the artistic wasteland of Hollywood ringing false when spoken by such a famous cast widely known for their film work. Such observations are clearly meant to mirror McNally's own feelings, leaving the author looking something like a hypocrite as he happily perpetuates these trends on his way to the bank.

The production also feels oddly censored despite the proliferation of four letter words (anyone who's ever wanted to hear Stockard Channing drop the f-bomb will more than get their money's worth). There is a cranky-old-man undercurrent running through the work that you wish McNally and director Jack O'Brien had more fully embraced, because when they do the play is downright hysterical. Certain jokes seem to have been toned down out of fear of offending the myriad celebrities mentioned in the play, especially since the cast and creative team know many of them personally, but most theatre folk have a sense of humor that surely could have withstood some well-intentioned ribbing. There is a particularly pointed bit about Harvey Fierstein, but you just know the gravely voiced actor would be laughing as loudly as anyone because ultimately, the joke is both hilarious and true. Between the watered down jokes and bloated runtime, It's Only a Play too often produces mere chuckles when belly laughs are called for.

The cast, for all of their talent, runs the gamut from very good to oddly misused. Lane, one of the most reliably excellent actors around, comes across the best, although even his normally boundless energy feels tamped down. Still, every actor could learn from Lane's ability to skirt the line between milking a joke and mugging; no matter how long he draws out a beat it never crosses the line into self indulgence, and when called for he can summon deep wells of emotion. Channing also does fine work as the washed up film actress hoping to make her comeback, although the character is too thinly written to allow her to really cut loose. In his Broadway debut, Grint plays the temperamental director archetype with aplomb, proving as easily accessible on stage as he is on film. And Oscar-winner Abraham is woefully underused in what is ultimately an inconsequential part as the one critic who doesn't seem to have an actual opinion about The Golden Egg.

Mullally, so assured in her previous stage appearances, seems lost as the ditzy first time producer. Employing a weird pigeon-toed shuffle whenever she moves across the stage, Mullally seems unsure just how dumb to make Budder, and appears self-consciously aware of how little sense her character's arc makes. As the playwright of the hour, Broderick is better than he's been in a long time, displaying genuine emotion during a climatic fight with Lane's character. Some of his line readings still feel stilted and forced, but his performance serves as a reminder of the qualities that made him a star in the first place. And saddled with the most ill-defined character of the lot, young Micah Stock struggles to find a signature characteristic to latch onto; like Mullally, Stock would have been better served by embracing his character's stupidity rather than trying to redeem or explain it.

Jack O'Brien, one of the most accomplished and versatile directors working today, fails to bring his signature energy and comedic precision to this piece. Like all of his actors, O'Brien is hamstrung by the weak material, and seems afraid to push the absurdity too far. He doesn't even make particularly good use of Scott Pask's beautiful and well designed set, which is packed with the kind of detail only a Broadway budget can sustain. Ann Roths' costumes are suitably gorgeous, although her most stand-out pieces aren't actually worn; they are the parade of coats Stock collects from unseen celebrity party guests, each one an almost perfect distillation of its owner.

Writing a negative review of It's Only a Play is difficult, because one thing the play does very well is demonstrate how much bad reviews can hurt the individuals who poured their blood, sweat, and tears into a project. So let me be clear: while this production is not the best work of anyone involved, they are all extremely talented and capable artists who have been responsible for some of the most memorable pieces of film and theatre of the past 30+ years. There is an undeniable thrill of seeing them all onstage at the same time, and while the material often lets them down there are still plenty of reminders of what formidable performers they all are. And ultimately, any review of the production is a moot point. It is already a sold out hit, and will likely continue breaking box office records until the end of its limited run in early January. But if you can't afford the $200+ tickets, there's no reason to stress. After all, it's only a play.

It's a Helluva Show

Review: On the Town

Clyde Alves, Tony Yazbeck, and Jay Armstrong Johnson lead the cast of the current Broadway revival of On the Town.

They don't make them like this anymore. Whether that is a good or a bad thing depends largely on personal taste, but either way it's hard to remember the last time Broadway birthed a musical as earnestly and innocently zany as the Bernstein-Comden-Green classic On the Town. And as the delightfully frothy revival which just opened at Broadway's newly renamed Lyric Theatre proves, there is a reason this particular brand of musical comedy reigned supreme for so long: it's just damned entertaining.

The show opens with a heartfelt rendition of the "Star Spangled Banner," played to glorious perfection by one of the largest, lushest orchestras on Broadway under the skilful baton of conductor James Moore. The lights rise on a sleepy seaside dock, and by the time Phillip Boykin finishes crooning the show's bucolic opening "I Feel Like I'm Not Out of Bed Yet," it is abundantly clear that this is one of the most lovingly rendered, celebratory revivals to grace Broadway in many years. Expertly performed and masterfully staged, On the Town is a love letter not just to the city of New York but to the Golden Age of Broadway, a show where the spectacle derives from the talent of the performers and the cleverness of the writing as opposed to elaborate production design (although Beowulf Boritt's candy colored sets and Jess Goldstein's period-perfect costumes are certainly a joy to behold).

The cast, from top to bottom, is virtually pitch perfect. Tony Yazbeck, Jay Armstrong Johnson, and Clyde Alves excel as the central trio of sailors given 24 hours shore leave, exuding an infectious camaraderie and an unabashed love for one another and the material. Yazbeck proves himself a true triple threat as romantic lead Gabey, anchoring the show with his earnestness and lending his powerful voice to some of the score's most anthemic ballads. Johnson is an unexpected delight as Chip, the most overtly comedic of the three roles, with his boyish good looks and "gee golly" charm endearing him to the audience almost instantly. And Alves holds his own as Ozzie, with a gleefully manic energy and over the top physicality that makes his big showcase "Carried Away" one of the evening's many highlights.

Matching them step for step and scene for scene are their respective love interests. Megan Fairchild, long one of New York City Ballet's most celebrated dancers, makes her Broadway debut as Ivy, and the audience is just as instantly smitten with her as Yazbeck's Gabey. Though a fine actress and singer, Fairchild was clearly cast to dance, and she does so in some of the most virtuosic solo work seen on Broadway this decade. Her second act pas de deux with Yazbeck is breathtakingly gorgeous, and throughout the evening Fairchild appears to effortlessly float across the stage despite the rigorous demands placed on her by choreographer Joshua Bergasse. Elizabeth Stanley is glorious unhinged as Claire, Ozzie's (engaged) romantic foil, and despite a uniformly strong cast, Alysha Umphress threatens to steal the show as Hildy, Chip's bold and brassy lady love.

In fact, Umphress is close to a revelation in the role, effortlessly self assured and blessed with a voice that can raise the rafters. Her introductory duet with Johnson, "Come Up to My Place," is one of the evening's most sustained feats of hilarity, aided by Johnson's game physicality and delightfully simple yet effective staging by director John Rando. And just when it looks like Umphress' best moment will be her first, she knocks the innuendo-laden "I Can Cook Too" out of the park. In fact, that number's instant reprise (a stylistic trait that has not aged particularly well) is the only one of the night that feels entirely welcome, as Umphress' high energy scatting and big money note suitably top her already sterling delivery of the song's original incarnation.

The previously mentioned Rando and Bergasse (director and choreographer, respectively) deserve special praise for the way they have effortlessly wrangled this beast of a show into an easily digestible comedic feast. Rando keeps things moving with his varied and inventive staging; for a show with comparatively few scenic elements, On the Town is always interesting to look at. And in his Broadway choreographic debut, Bergasse astounds with the sheer volume and ingenuity of his work. Whether he's having his dancers leap through the air or embody living mannequins, Bergasse's choreography is both technically impressive and delightfully whimsical. All of the stagecraft advancements of the past 30 years have yet to top the unbridled thrill of seeing a stageful of dancers jump, twist, and pirouette in unison, and Bergasse delivers such sights in spades. In a show with four full fledged ballets and numerous large production numbers, Bergasse's inventiveness never falters, and hopefully we will be seeing much, much more of his work in the future.

On the Town is undeniably old fashioned, and it does possess a few conventions that have not aged particularly well. But on the whole this revival feels as fresh and vibrant as ever, with a top tier cast and creative team who are clearly having the time of their lives. Only the most curmudgeonly of audience members would be unable to recognize and enjoy this production's many strengths, and for fans of Golden Age Broadway this revival is a dream come true. For the show's duration, any and all troubles melt away, a rare and precious gift that On the Town bestows freely, and a breath of fresh air during these increasingly troubled times.

Union vs. Non-Union Tours and Equity's Image Problem

Well, Actors' Equity just significantly raised the game in its crusade to combat non-equity tours. The union has begun the "Ask If It's Equity" campaign via social media, encouraging all potential audience members to inquire if a touring production is Equity before purchasing a ticket. And unsurprisingly, there are strong feelings about whether this is a good idea on both sides.

First, some background for those who aren't well-versed in the ins and outs of performer contracts. Actors' Equity Association is the performers' union that represents all Broadway actors, along with the actors in many Off-Broadway, regional, and touring productions. After joining the union by jumping through a convoluted and/or highly unlikely series of hoops (most performers become an Equity Membership Candidate and accrue a certain number of points before being allowed to buy into the union, although if an Equity theatre really wants someone they can pay the actor's dues for them), Equity actors gain access to a litany of special privileges including better pay, healthcare, strict limits on the amount of hours they can be worked, and perhaps most appealing of all, priority access to auditions. In return, members pay union dues every year and are forbidden from taking any non-union work; if they get caught performing without a union contract, they can be barred from the union for life, which effectively kills any Broadway or other high profile aspirations a performer might have.

Now, the way touring productions work is that touring houses will guarantee a certain level of ticket sales before booking a show at their particular venue. This allows tour producers to make informed decisions about how much money they should budget for actor salaries, costumes, sets, etc. If the theatres cannot guarantee a large amount of ticket sales, then producers are left with the option of either cancelling the show or casting it with non-union talent, which costs significantly less (there are no minimum salaries for non-union actors, and the producers don't have to pay into Equity's expensive healthcare system on behalf of each performer). Since non-union tours are cheaper to mount, more and more productions are going the non-Equity route to cut costs. As most audience members wouldn't be able to spot the difference between union and non-union talent - there is sometimes little to no difference in skill level and professionalism - the tour producers still advertise these shows as if they are direct from Broadway, even if it involves smaller sets, fewer actors, and less polish than you typically (but not always) find in Equity productions.

Unfortunately, there has been tension between union and non-union actors for almost as long as there has been a union. Equity's job is to protect its members and ensure them as many well-paying jobs as possible, which means Equity auditions are notoriously hard to get seen at if you aren't already in the union. However, the only way to actually join the union is to be cast in an Equity production, which is a huge catch-22 that is understandably frustrating to the many hardworking and talented non-union performers who wake up at the crack of dawn and wait around all day in the hopes of being seen. Also, because Broadway and all of the most respected theatre companies are Equity, many union members have developed a nasty habit of acting like they're better than their non-union counterparts. Keep in mind, every performer was non-union at some point, and we've all seen professional, Equity productions that are just as painful (if not more so) as those at the local community theatre.

To me, the biggest problem with the "Ask If It's Equity" campaign is it plays directly into that tradition of smugness when it comes to the merits of non-union performers. The question heavily implies that if the touring company is non-Equity it is automatically of a lower quality. That is by no means an accurate assumption; last winter I saw the non-union tour of Memphis and found it compared quite favorably to the original Broadway incarnation. No, it was not better or necessarily equal, but the differences were negligible to all but the most experienced theatregoers; if I had not known the production was non-Equity, I would not have been able to tell with any certainty, and I see a lot of theatre. Furthermore, the production was not on Broadway and no one was paying Broadway prices to go see it, which does make a difference as far as perceived value.

That said, I also see Equity's side of the situation and understand the concerns that are causing them to act like dicks. The non-union tours are certainly advertised as if they are straight from Broadway, which is misleading and probably allows them to charge more money for tickets than if the distinction was made clearer. As I have many friends who can verify that this extra money is not going to the performers, that trend is at best concerning and at worst exploitation. And more importantly from Equity's end, these non-union tours could theoretically be union and thereby provide work for their membership, the vast majority of whom are unemployed during any given year. If Equity can use the campaign to prove that the union status of a tour does make a difference to ticket buyers, then they will be in a better position to demand union contracts for future tours.

So what can be done about this situation? There are no easy answers, although I think the majority of the burden lies with Equity and its large member base. The reason tours go non-union is because the touring houses cannot guarantee enough money to finance an Equity production, so a show goes out non-Equity (and still makes the creators and producers money, while also giving future union members a chance to hone their craft) or it doesn't go out at all. Touring shows either need to figure out a way to make more money, or they need to use the money they already make more effectively.

The first option (make more money) can pretty much be ruled out, as most regional audiences are already spending the maximum they're willing to pay for live theatre. Raise prices any further and attendance will likely decline. A decrease in ticket prices could theoretically increase the number of tickets sold and potentially lead to more actual income, but it's a gamble I don't see any sane producing team taking. Which means the tours need to be able to make their current income go further, which may involve lowering wages (something I would not personally advocate) or alternatively relaxing some of the union's stipulations. Broadway and Equity theatres are rife with tales of frivolous personnel due to union mandated quotas, and the strict time limits on rehearsals and performances can cause overtime pay to add up in a hurry. Furthermore, I know of at least a couple of former Equity theatres who are now non-union solely because they can't afford the Equity healthcare premiums (their actors still receive a salary equivalent to the Equity minimums). Since the vast majority of Equity actors can't actually take advantage of the union's healthcare - you must be employed more weeks out of the year than not to qualify - perhaps these premiums could be lowered to help cut costs.

Even more importantly, I think Equity needs to make itself more accessible to new members. I'm sure the current Equity membership is already bristling at this idea, as there already aren't enough jobs to go around and no one wants extra competition. However, as theatre is primarily a merit based profession, if Equity performers are as good as they believe they have nothing to worry about; they will still be cast instead of the less experienced newcomers. And if more of the talented non-union performers were to join Equity, it would get much harder for producers to piece together a non-union tour audiences would be willing to pay good money for and thus force producers to offer more union work.

There are no easy solutions to this problem, but the "Ask If It's Equity" campaign still leaves plenty to be desired. There will always be more people who dream of being an actor than the profession can actually support, so no matter what Equity does to increase job opportunities for its members a large percentage of them will be unemployed at any given time. As theatre becomes more and more expensive there will be fewer audience members and fewer jobs, which only highlights the need for the industry's leaders to prioritize cost saving measures that still provide for the safety and financial viability of acting as profession. And Equity really needs to reexamine the way it behaves towards non-members; it is often despicable and elitist, especially considering everyone in the union was non-union at some point. Perhaps if they honestly asked themselves how their 22-year-old self would feel about a given policy, they wouldn't be so hasty to put their feet in their mouths and angry large swaths of the theatrical community.