By George, They've Got It!

Review: My Fair Lady

Harry Hadden-Paton, Lauren Ambrose, and Allan Corduner in Lincoln Center's lavish My Fair Lady.

Lerner and Loewe's My Fair Lady has quite the conflicting reputation. On one hand, this musical adaptation of George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion is almost universally agreed to be an expertly constructed Golden Age book musical, overflowing with Loewe's beautiful music and possessing an exceedingly sharp, emotionally complex book by Lerner. But with each passing year, more and more people have rightly expressed discomfort with the way the show treats its protagonist Eliza Doolittle, who many feel is made over against her will to suit the ideals of misogynistic language professor Henry Higgins. Is it even possible to stage the show in a way that honors its original intent without alienating modern audiences who are increasingly aware of the mistreatment women have endured throughout history?

The answer is a resounding "yes" thanks to the brilliant direction of Bartlett Sher, who seemingly specializes in mounting supposedly dated classics to feel as timely and relevant as the day they first premiered (see his Tony-winning revivals of South Pacific and The King & I, also for Lincoln Center). Sher has largely solved My Fair Lady's perceived problems with an approach so straightforward it feels revolutionary: he has ignored the way the show is "traditionally" performed and refocused on the text, revealing it to be much more thoughtful and equitable than originally thought. The often thrilling, always fascinating result is a triumphant production that firmly refocuses the show on Eliza and makes her a much more active participant in her own narrative without changing a single line of dialogue.

The script has always had Eliza show up at Higgins' residence asking for elocution lessons, but Sher's production is one of the first to fully emphasize that she chooses to do so without being forced. Higgins has always explicitly stated the difficulty in what Eliza is attempting, and praised her for the speed at which she picks it up, but for the first time it all feels like genuine praise rather than insincere small talk. Eliza has always called Higgins on his appalling behavior, but this is the first time it hasn't felt like she's taken her critique back by the end of the show. The only thing one can argue Sher actually changed is the show's final tableau, but again, he hasn't changed a word, and his version of the ending feels much truer to the spirit of the piece than what has traditionally been done.

To achieve such a subtle but substantial reinterpretation of the text, Sher needed actors of the highest caliber, and he has found them in this top notch cast. Lauren Ambrose provides perhaps the best acted version of Eliza to date, up to and including Audrey Hepburn's beloved performance in the film. Ambrose sparkles with intelligence and strength from the very beginning, making it clear Eliza's cockney accent by no means indicates stupidity. Her expressive face and eyes radiate warmth while conveying volumes about her complex inner life, making it difficult to take your eyes off her. Whether Ambrose is relishing the small victories Eliza finds during her arduous dictation lessons, reevaluating and adjusting her behavior during her hysterical public debut as a lady, or visibly rallying herself prior to the embassy ball, she will have you utterly captivated. It is a testament to Ambrose's sheer magnetism that even when Higgins and his servants are gallivanting about the stage during "You Did It," the audience's eyes remain fixed on Eliza in the corner, as Ambrose charts her growing disgust with her situation.

Vocally, Ambrose is not as assured a singer as someone like Julie Andrews (Broadway's original Eliza) or Marni Nixon (who dubbed Hepburn's vocals in the film). She has some lovely moments and never comes close to sounding outright bad, rather just suffers a *tad* in comparison to some of the most accomplished sopranos in musical theatre history. And Ambrose's acting is so sensational that its difficult to hold any perceived vocal shortcomings against her, as its hard to imagine a more trained singer acting the role better. Ambrose's performance is that good.

Ambrose is excellently matched by Harry Hadden-Paton making an absolutely thrilling Broadway debut in a role virtually synonymous with Rex Harrison (who won both the Tony and the Oscar for his Higgins). It must be noted that casting Higgins as closer in age to Eliza goes a long way towards putting the characters on more equal footing, but the rest of the gap is closed by Hadden-Paton as perhaps the most compassionate Higgins in history. That's not to say the tart tongued linguist has lost any of his bite; Hadden-Paton can unleash a stream of insults with the best of them, with a natural charisma and intelligence that will have you laughing so hard you almost forget how thoroughly he's eviscerated his target. But this Higgins actually does care for Eliza, and Hadden-Paton makes it clear that for all his bluster he is genuinely horrified by the idea that he may have unknowingly mistreated her. You won't necessarily like this Higgins, but you will have far more understanding of him and his childish outbursts than you've likely ever had, all thanks to Hadden-Paton's excellent scene work.

The supporting cast is every bit as enchanting as the leads. Allan Corduner is outstanding as Colonel Pickering, an excellent foil for Hadden-Paton and a fascinating actor in his own right. Dame Diana Rigg makes the most of her relatively small role as Mrs. Higgins (Henry's mother), effortlessly cutting her misbehaving son down to size with little more than a look and a quick word. Jordan Donica offers up a beautiful sung, endearingly goofy Freddy, forever smitten with Eliza and waiting for her "On the Street Where You Live." And two-time Tony-winner Norbert Leo Butz takes the primarily comic role of Alfred P. Doolittle, Eliza's father, and turns him into one of the most fully realized humans in the entire piece. The fact that he also leads the sensational chorus of 25 in a showstopping rendition of "Get Me to the Church on Time" is just an added bonus.

At this point, it is practically a given that Lincoln Center's revivals of these Golden Age classics will be visually sumptuous affairs, and My Fair Lady continues that proud tradition. Catherine Zuber's costumes continually astound, especially her lavender-tinted finery for the "Ascot Gavotte" and her breathtaking version of Eliza's iconic hat. Michael Yeargan's scenic design for Higgins' study is impressively grand on its own, but when the house begins to revolve and expose the residence's other rooms you may just let out a gasp of delight. Everything is beautifully lit by Donald Holder, and Marc Salzberg's sound design ensures you can hear every wonderful note of the score played by the massive orchestra under the baton of Ted Sperling. Describing the physical production as lavish almost feels like an understatement.

In the end, you'd be hard pressed to find much to fault in this production of My Fair Lady. Impeccably acted and gorgeously staged, it feels as fresh and relevant as the day the show first premiered, if not more so. Higgins is still undeniably a misogynist, but he no longer has tyrannical control over Eliza, and she has far more agency in her own story than one might expect. Popular opinion will ultimately decide if the show is too unsavory for modern audiences, but Sher and company have made a compelling argument for this classic to maintain its status as one of the crown jewels of the musical theatre cannon. Its examination of class and gender politics has plenty to teach us even today, all while entertaining us with one of the most glorious scores of the Golden Age.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Julie Jordan?

Review: Carousel

Jessie Mueller and Joshua Henry as Julie Jordan and Billy Bigelow in Carousel.

It is said that of all Richard Rodger's collaborations with Oscar Hammerstein, Carousel contained the composer's favorite score. The classic musical certainly has an abundance of soaring melodies, and it greatly develops the now ubiquitous concept of the extended musical scene, something that didn't really exist prior to the famed duo's groundbreaking work. And while the show certainly has artistic and historical merit, the extremely well done revival now on Broadway also fully unmasks the inherent problems in the script, the most glaring of which is the domestic violence issue embedded in the central romance.

*Note: If you aren't familiar with Carousel - I'd never seen it prior to this production - there are spoilers coming. There's no way to discuss the show in the context of 2018 without getting into them.*

There's no way around it: Carousel as written is inherently problematic. Carnival barker Billy Bigelow falls in love with and marries a young mill worker named Julie Jordan, who abandons her job just to get the chance to know Billy better (the mill Julie works at insists their workers maintain a "good girl" image which doesn't allow for late night talks with strange men). Then, in a scene we never see, Billy hits Julie; the town characterizes it as continual abuse, although Billy insists that it was just one time. But the frequency of the abuse doesn't really matter, because either way Julie insists there's nothing wrong with it despite the protestations of literally everyone she knows.

Note Julie never *denies* being hit. She claims people don't know Billy like she does, and that she understands why he hit her. But Julie - and by extension, Rodgers and Hammerstein - never verbalizes those reasons to the other characters or to the audience. In fact, her second act solo "What's the Use of Wond'rin," the song specifically designed to address this concern, essentially boils down to Julie saying she loves him, so what else can she do but accept the situation? And late in the show, when a now dead Billy is asked by a heavenly character called The Starkeeper if he regrets hitting Julie, Billy defiantly responds, "I regret nothing."

Now, obviously Carousel was written during a different time that had different attitudes about what was and wasn't acceptable behavior in a marriage. So while it is disappointing that the fairly progressive Rodgers and Hammerstein - who wrote the anti-racism creed "You Have to Be Carefully Taught" for South Pacific and centered The King & I around a strong, capable female protagonist - created such a problematic portrayal of the abused-but-we-don't-know-how-much Julie, it isn't entirely surprising.

What is surprising is that Tony-winner Jessie Mueller, who can pack a wealth of conflicting emotions into the space between her lines, isn't able to find some way to give more insight or depth to Julie and help us better understand her actions. Given that her last Broadway outing Waitress focused on a character in a similar situation, but with much more complexity and agency, it is downright baffling that Mueller chose this as her immediate follow-up.

Perhaps this disconnect explains why Mueller, normally a firebrand who you cannot take your eyes off of, feels oddly subdued throughout. She sings the role beautifully - is there nothing her mercurial voice cannot do? - and acts it as well as anyone can be expected to, which leaves no choice but to conclude the problem is with the material and not the performer. Put bluntly, Julie just isn't a very compelling character, especially contrasted with the other women in the show.

Julie's best friend Carrie Pipperidge manages to do what society expects of her in a way that makes it clear she's making a choice and not just resigned to whatever comes her way, and she is the first to express concern about Julie's home life. Lindsey Mendez is a delight in the role, beautifully adapting her vocal pyrotechnics to the more legit stylings of Carousel's score and landing the evening's biggest laughs. And opera superstar Renee Fleming is a revelation as the matronly Nettie Fowler; her rendition of the show's big anthem "You'll Never Walk Alone" is a masterclass in dramatic song interpretation, musically impeccable while still feeling spontaneous and unforced.

And despite the problems with his character, it's undeniable that two-time Tony-nominee Joshua Henry has never been better than as carnival barker Billy Bigelow. His natural charisma makes it easy to see why Julie or anyone else would be drawn to him, and his performance makes it clear that his gruff exterior is masking a deep seated inner pain and self loathing. He also sings like a dream, making a famously taxing role seem easy and imbuing every song with a freshness that makes the show's well worn ballads sound new. His "Soliloquy," the seven minute monologue in song that ends the first act, is positively thrilling, his rendition easily among the best there's ever been. Henry's performance is the stuff Tony wins are made of, and a strong argument for the merits of color conscious casting. (The production never overtly references Henry's race, but it subtly informs his interactions.)

Director Jack O'Brien's thoughtful staging and direction is exactly what you hope for when one of these Golden Age musicals is revived. The show feels fresh and alive, almost like new, honoring the material without ever holding it so sacred that it feels like a museum piece. O'Brien wisely avoids any impulse to dress the material up with modern bells and whistles, letting the actors and musicians carry the day. The producers have also wisely employed NY City Ballet choreographer-in-residence Justin Peck to handle the musical's abundant dance numbers, including the patented Rodgers and Hammerstein dream ballet in the second act. Peck's choreography has a complexity and artistic maturity rarely seen on the Broadway stage, and is danced to perfection by the nimble men and women of the ensemble (who also sound fantastic during the group choral numbers).

From a physical standpoint, this Carousel is often breathtaking thanks to the lavish yet unfussy design work. Ann Roth's costumes have an attention to detail and carefully considered color palette that make them look like a million bucks, even though they are largely everyday casual wear. Santo Loquasto's stunning set wonderfully evokes a sleepy seaside town, with his stellar backdrops and multilayered sets giving the production an astonishing amount of visual depth. His take on the titular carousel is particularly striking, an image that will stay with you long after the final curtain falls. Both sets and costumes are gorgeously lit by Brian MacDevitt, whose sophisticated work greatly helps in the evocation of the story's many different moods.

All of the talent and care that has gone into this Carousel makes the show's dubious worldview that much more upsetting. These are clearly smart artists who are doing their absolute best to do justice to this show, but they have not been able to solve the central conundrum of getting us to understand and empathize with such a problematic relationship. The lead female role is basically a doormat, accepting and excusing any negative behavior that comes her way in the name of love, and putting that kind of message into the world in 2018 seems questionable at best. Rather than "fixing" Carousel for future generations, this production may have killed it once and for all by exposing it as inexorably linked to a bygone and now unacceptable social attitude. If O'Brien and company aren't able to satisfactorily address Carousel's problems, then who can?

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

Review: Hello, Dollly!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There May Be a Helicopter, But Newcomer Noblezada Truly Soars

Review: Miss Saigon

Alistair Brammer and Eva Noblezada in the Broadway revival of Miss Saigon

To answer the question that is probably on your mind: yes, the Broadway revival of Miss Saigon still features a real helicopter landing onstage during a particularly climatic scene. To be honest, despite the clever stagecraft used to accomplish the task, the helicopter's arrival is actually one of the less interesting moments in a overall very fine production. The anguished screams of the Vietnamese villagers left behind when the copter departs will stay with you longer, reaffirming that emotional truth is the lifeblood of this sweeping musical epic, not mechanical spectacle.

The plot of Miss Saigon, an updated retelling of Puccini's classic opera Madame Butterfly by the same songwriting team behind Les Miserables, chronicles the star crossed love affair of orphaned Vietnamese teen Kim and American GI Chris against the backdrop of the Vietnam War and the eventual fall of Saigon. It is a setting rife with conflict and big emotions, although the script's eagerness to get to those emotions sometimes undercuts their believability. Chris and Kim's first meeting vacillates between a love and hate in a manner more appropriate to farce than epic drama, and several of the major power ballads arrive before we've had adequate time to invest in the characters singing them. Thankfully, the pacing improves tremendously once the lovers are separated about 30 minutes into the evening, making for a truly engrossing journey as they struggle to find their way back to one another after the US military pulls out of Vietnam.

In the original production, the role of Kim launched a then unknown 20-year-old named Lea Salonga to stardom. The chances of such an occurrence happening again would seem improbably, and yet the producers have once again struck gold casting their leading lady. From the moment 21-year-old Eva Noblezada enters during the show's opening number, she cuts a commanding figure despite her small frame, instantly establishing both Kim's vulnerability and inner strength without uttering a sound. And then she sings, demonstrating a vocal prowess and control that appears beyond her years, seamlessly singing every note of Claude-Michel Schonberg's complex score with extreme precision and searing emotional honesty. It is a masterful, star making portrayal that channels the best of her predecessor while leaving her own unique stamp on the role, and is the key to this production's overall success.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Noblezada's counterpart, Alistair Brammer as Chris. The British thespian certainly has the All-American good looks to play the object of Kim's affections, but despite an uncomfortably frequent amount of making out he lacks much chemistry with his costar. None of their shared scenes during the show's first act really sell the idea that these two are instantly attracted to one another, and it is actually easier to buy into their relationship when Kim and Chris are separated, with Noblezada's sensational performance and sincere longing grounding the romance. Brammer is certainly trying his hardest, which is part of the problem as the sheer amount of effort visible in his performance proves distracting.

The third of Miss Saigon's key roles is filled by Jon Jon Briones as the Engineer, essentially Kim's pimp whose primary goal is to secure a visa and emigrate to America. It is a somewhat problematic role, given far more stagetime than is warranted by the character's only tangential relationship to Kim's storyline. Briones is quite good in the role, a tad hammy but not more than the production can bear. He also does an excellent job with his big 11 o'clock number "The American Dream," to the point where you almost forget that the song doesn't seem to have a purpose in the show other than providing a break from the heavy emotions of the second act. (It's tempting to assume the song is a critique of said dream, but if so then it undermines the sincere desire of practically every Vietnamese character to reach the US, a desire they keep through the final tableau.)

There are a few more standouts among the cast, particular Nicholas Christopher as another American GI named John. An imposing figure with a beautiful voice, Christopher delivers one of the show's most haunting ballads, a song about abandoned war orphans called "Bui Doi." Devin Ilaw is quite compelling as Kim's spurned fiance Thuy, and if Katie Rose Clark can't quite make sense of her extremely compacted character arc as Chris' wife her talent and innate likability go a long way towards solving the script issues involving her.

The production has been given a striking visual flare by set designers Totie Driver and Matt Kinley, whose talents extend much further than the aforementioned helicopter. The pair conjure the lived in squalor of a Vietnamese strip club, the seedy slums of Bangkok, and the imposing military might of Vietnam's new regime by using gorgeously detailed sets that are impressive without being distracting. The lighting design by Bruno Poet does an excellent job of establishing mood thanks to its bold use of color, and the contrast of the set's dull browns and greys with the bright reds and blues of the lights and Andreane Neofitou's costumes create a series of evocative images throughout the evening.

Director Laurence Connor makes excellent use of the set to create continually intriguing stage pictures, striking the right balance between the grand historical sweep and intimate character moments of the story. The musical staging by Bob Avian is also impressive, particularly the precisely choreographed, acrobatic filled "The Morning of the Dragon" which follows a 3 year time jump in the narrative. In fact, one could argue that this number is a far more effective and memorable bit of theatrical spectacle than the aforementioned helicopter, one that is able to support the story better by not being so technically involved.

Although heavily influenced by the original, Tony-winning production, this Saigon succeeds in making a show in danger of becoming a period piece feel fresh and relevant. It is at its strongest when it focuses on Kim, allowing Noblezada's performance to shine through and carry the day with the complexity and grace of actresses twice her age. The production occasionally falls victim to the bombast that defines many of these British mega musicals from the 1980s and 90s, particularly during the show's opening scenes, but it steadily improves in polish and emotional complexity as the night goes on until it becomes genuinely engrossing. Brammer's performance holds the show back from fully achieving the heights it so clearly aspires to, but in the end if Noblezada can fall in love with him nightly, then perhaps the rest of us can too.

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

Review: Sunset Boulevard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Romance for the Ages, Tonight at Eight

Review: She Loves Me

Laura Benanti and Zachary Levi star as perfectly mismatched lovers in Roundabout's fantastically funny She Loves Me.

Winsome. Charming. Utterly enchanting. All of these words and more can be used to describe Roundabout Theatre Company's top-notch revival of She Loves Me, the most whimsical and romantic night of musical theatre currently available on Broadway. Every moment of the show has been lovingly rendered by director Scott Ellis and his pitch-perfect cast, which is headlined by Tony-winner Laura Benanti in a role tailor-made to her many and varied theatrical talents.

She Loves Me is based on the same short story that inspired the Tom Hanks-Meg Ryan romance You've Got Mail, and follows parfumerie clerks Georg Nowack and Amalia Balash. Constantly bickering on the job, the pair has simultaneously been falling in love via their frequent, anonymous written correspondence with one other. It is a classic romantic comedy setup that has been musicalized using a gorgeous score by Fiddler on the Roof duo Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick, and although the show itself is rarely produced in New York most have likely encountered at least one of its many popular songs (such as that favorite of budding sopranos, "Vanilla Ice Cream").

The premise is uncomplicated and the outcome inevitable, but thanks to Joe Masteroff's intelligent book and Ellis' supremely sensitive direction, this refreshingly intimate musical love story has all the elements required to hold your attention for the duration of its runtime. It is clear that Ellis and his cast have an unabashed love for the material and one another, and that fondness radiates out beyond the footlights to envelope the audience in its warm embrace. By keeping the focus of the story small, She Loves Me also offers far more character development than most shows of its ilk, meaning you will come to genuinely love every one of the characters by the final ultimo.

As Georg and Amalia, Zachary Levi and Laura Benanti make for perfect romantic leads. Their chemistry is palpable and each provides a masterclass in acting a song, whether it be Levi's giddily infectious "She Loves Me" or Benanti's crystal clear and hilarious ode to the aforementioned "Ice Cream." By the time these two temperamental lovebirds realize they are perfect for each other, you are genuinely ecstatic for them, thanks to the pair's charisma, earnestness, and complete sincerity. Benanti's role in particular showcases the actress as few roles can, highlighting her impeccable comic instincts, emotional accessibility, and crystalline soprano in equal measure (and often within the same scene). It is an utter delight to have Benanti back on Broadway after a five year hiatus, and hopefully we won't have to wait another five before being graced with her talents again.

Jane Krakowski is another actress who has spent far too long away from Broadway, having left the Great White Way for the bright lights of Hollywood after her Tony-winning performance in the 2003 revival of Nine. Krakowski is simply sensational as shop attendant Ilola Ritter, skillfully combining easygoing sensuality with convincing naivety as she is constantly taken advantage of by the shop's resident ladies' man, Steven Kodaly (an immensely appealing Gavin Creel). Krakowski goes from slinky kicks and splits in the comic "Ilola" to genuine heartbreak in "I Resolve," all without missing any opportunity to make her scenes as funny as humanly possible. She and Benanti also share fantastic chemistry in their scenes together, making for believable gal pals you wish would spend more time together.

The entire cast is dressed in resplendent 1930's period garb by costumer Jeff Mahshie, which looks all the more gorgeous on David Rockwell's jewel box of a set (the first wow moment of the show is when the exterior facade of the parfumerie open up to reveal its immensely detailed interior right before your eyes). The saturated jewel tones really pop thanks to Donald Holder's lights, and the crisp sound design completes the feeling of being enveloped in the interior of a musical jewelry box.

This has been an outstanding season for musical revivals on Broadway, and She Loves Me is another knockout. A practically perfect production of an underrated show, this revival highlights everything that is splendid about Golden Age musical theatre while removing any hint of dustiness. Like all Roundabout productions, it is scheduled to play a limited engagement, so any and all interested parties should purchase their tickets as soon as possible.

A Broadway "Tradition" Continues

Review: Fiddler on the Roof

Danny Burstein as Tevye in the latest Broadway revival of Fiddler on the Roof.

How does one reinvent a show centered around the concept of tradition? It is the title of the glorious opening number of Fiddler on the Roof, where Jewish milkman Tevye speaking directly to the audience about the virtues of the well-delineated societal rules in his little town of Anatevka. Throughout the show Tevye and his daughters deviate from the old ways with only the purest of intents, and yet it still causes an enormous amount of trouble for the well-meaning clan. Those traditions end up providing the characters comfort in times of great adversity, and the show ultimately seems to argue that while some change is inevitable there's no need to completely ignore the old way of doing things. Oddly enough, it is a lesson director Bartlett Sher attempts to teach while simultaneously ignoring, as the least successful aspects of this generally first rate revival (the show's fifth) are the areas where Sher most obviously breaks from the traditional way of mounting the show.

Sher has made quite the name for himself staging critically heralded revivals of both plays and musicals, having found particular success with the works of Rodgers and Hammerstein. With Fiddler on the Roof, he once again sweeps away the cobwebs from a script some may view as dated and makes it compelling and relevant. Yet unlike his Tony-winning South Pacific or The King and I, Sher's directorial hand is more apparent here, and not always for the better. He hasn't changed a word of the script, but he has awkwardly grafted a wordless modern dress framing device onto the show that doesn't add anything to the preexisting text. The production design is also purposefully deconstructed for reasons that aren't at all apparent, occasionally distracting from rather than adding to the storytelling.

Now none of the above is meant to in any way imply that Sher's direction is bad. It is often outstanding, breathing fresh life into a show many know by heart. Sher has guided his cast to fully lived performances that feel fresh, exciting, and even slightly dangerous. He has a near matchless understanding of pacing, giving each story beat room to breathe while also keeping everything moving along at such a steady clip the show never drags despite its three hour runtime. He has a stellar eye for simple yet powerful stage pictures, and seamlessly switches gears between broad comedy and heartwrenching drama. Sher has never directed a funnier sequence than "Tevye's Dream," and he his storytelling has rarely been as devastating as it is during the show's emotional climax, which makes his few missteps all the more noticeable.

Sher is aided, as always, by an impeccable cast of theatrical greats working at the top of their game. Headlining this Fiddler is five-time Tony-nominee Danny Burstein in the role of Tevye, and the veteran character actor has arguably never been better. While it would be disingenuous to call Burstein's performance understated - among other things, he gets to play more comedy than he's been given in any role since Adolfo in The Drowsey Chaperone - his performance is not as immediately flashy as one might expect from a role written for the famously outsized Zero Mostel. But it is a deeply felt, fully realized portrayal that builds and builds to an emotional sucker punch of a climax, when one of his beloved daughters decides to marry outside the faith. Burstein is alternatively jovial and genuinely imposing as the role demands, and he handles all the areas in between with such effortless aplomb you forget he's acting at all. His voice also perfectly suits the show's famous score, and his exuberant performance of "If I Were a Rich Man" is every bit the showstopper such a gifted performer deserves.

Burstein's performance forms the blueprint that the rest of the cast follows, as many of his fellow actors also initially appear unassuming while laying the groundwork for what are revealed to be deeply affecting performances. Jessica Hecht's wife Golde at first skews very harsh and shrewish (you definitely understand why Tevye would be scared of her), but she leavens her work with enough moments of tenderness that it is genuinely touching when she struggles to answer Tevye's question of "Do You Love Me?" She is also heartbreaking during the final few scenes, as the aftermath of her third daughter's marriage fully hits.

As daughters Tzietel, Hodel, and Chava respectively, Alexandra Silber, Samantha Massell, and Melanie Moore all have their moments, although it takes them a bit longer to click into their roles. Their performance of "Matchmaker, Matchermaker" isn't quite the homerun you'd expect, but to their credit all three act the song so well it makes you hear the well-known lyrics anew.  Massell also does a phenomenal job with Hodel's "Far From the Home I Love," making the song a late-evening highlight. The structure of the show doesn't provide as much for Adam Kantor (Motel), Ben Rappaport (Perchik), and Aaron Young (Fyedka) to do as the daughter's respective spouses, but all three actors make strong impression with the material they do have. And if Alix Korey's Yente the Matchmaker isn't quite the scenery chewer you'd expect, she is nevertheless absolutely hysterical.

Few shows have proven as durable and iconic a part of the musical theatre cannon as Fiddler on the Roof, and Bartlett Sher has staged this latest revival in a way that reminds even the skeptics how Fiddler achieved that status in the first place. Sher also continues to bring out the best in some of the industry's top talent, guiding Burstein to what may well be considered his crowning achievement. The entire production seems to exist primarily to showcase the actor's many talents, and yet he remains so giving and supportive of his fellow performers he never overshadows the story they are all trying to tell. (I try to leave talk of Tony Awards out of reviews, but if Burstein doesn't finally win an acting trophy for this I don't know what more he can possibly do.) And as always, it is refreshing and invigorating to see such a classic approached with such lavish attention to detail, from the gloriously full orchestra to the finely detailed costumes. Some traditions are worth keeping, and if Fiddler continues to be this entertaining and moving I see no problem with continuing to revive the show every ten years.

The Best Shows of 2015: Part I

Despite the unseasonably warm weather New York City has been experiencing, it is in fact the end of December. With the new year just around the corner, it is time for me to look back and select my 10 favorite shows of 2015. The qualifications for making this list are simple: the production must have had its official opening night during the 2015 calendar year, and it must have been seen by yours truly. That means that certain praised productions are automatically ineligible, and therefore this should by no means be viewed as a comprehensive/final judgment on the quality of all theatre that happened this year.

With those caveats in place, here are 5 of the productions I enjoyed the most this year, with my Top 5 selections to follow in the next post:

10) Dames at Sea

Eloise Kropp and Cary Tedder dancing up a storm in Dames at Sea.

Given the lukewarm reviews and positively abysmal box office, I am clearly in the minority when it comes to my enjoyment of the first Broadway mounting of the 40-year-old Dames at Sea. And to be fair, I understand where a lot of the most common critiques of the show are coming from. It is unfailing earnest, often to the point of ridiculousness, but that's kind of the point. I think the problem with Dames is that it's spoofing a genre (1930s movie musicals) that isn't really in the public consciousness anymore, which automatically makes it feel dated and irrelevant to many. But that perception does nothing to take away from the polish and professionalism with which the cast delivers the delightfully daffy material, or the gee whiz excitement of seeing director/choreographer Randy Skinner creates some of Broadway's most thrilling tap routines with just 6 superbly dancers. And it certainly doesn't undermine the sheer comic brilliance of Lesli Margherita's performance as Mona Kent, whose work as a demanding diva is one of the most consistently hilarious performances of the year. Anyone with the slightest inclination to see the show should really make the effort to get out to the Helen Hayes Theatre before the final curtain falls this Sunday; you won't be disappointed.

9) Spring Awakening

Daniel N. Duran and Krysta Rodriguez in Deaf West's revival of Spring Awakening.

Unlike many people of my generation, I am not particularly enamored with Spring Awakening as a show. While the music has an undeniable if slightly repetitive beauty, once you get past the fact that such frank exploration of teenage sexuality is unusual in a musical the show really isn't saying anything all that insightful. And yet the current Deaf West revival of the 2007 Tony-winner is so viscerally impactful and unerringly gorgeous that a lot of the show's flaws fall away, leaving what may be the best possible version of the work. The addition of American Sign Language to the story creates an extra layer of purposeful abstraction that frees Spring Awakening from of the burden of being a book musical and turns it firmly into an expressionistic mood piece, a tonal shift that supports the script and music much better. You no longer have to intellectually understand what a "Mirror-Blue Night" is, because the accompanying visuals are so impactful they convey the feeling of that night for you. And when the cast of hearing and deaf actors comes together to sing/sign about how they're "Totally Fucked," even the most curmudgeonly of audience members will be right there with them, reliving the awkward frustration of their youth.

8) Fun Home

The cast of Fun Home on Broadway.

For me, Fun Home is actually a somewhat problematic production. All of the individual elements are stellar, from Jeanine Tesori's adventurous score to Lisa Kron's nuanced book to Sam Gold's first-rate direction. Then there are the first rate performances, which saw practically the entire cast nominated for Tony Awards and Michael Cerveris taking home Best Actor in a Musical for his revelatory, transformative performance as the protagonist's closeted gay father. And yet at the end of the evening, I wasn't nearly as moved as it seemed I should be. All of that said, I would be a fool to deny the artistic excellence of the production, to say nothing of its significance in the contemporary theatrical landscape. The show pushes the boundaries of what a commercial Broadway musical can be, tackling issues of sexuality and identity when they are at the top of the national consciousness while also providing a much needed, highly visible platform of the work of female writers. My heart of stone aside, the show certainly deserves all of the success it has found, and is definitely something any and all interested parties should check out.

7) The Iceman Cometh

Brian Dennehy and Nathan Lane in the BAM production of The Iceman Cometh.

Eugene O'Neill's The Iceman Cometh represents theatre at its most epic. This 4 act, nearly 5 hour long American tragedy is not for the faint of heart, requiring an extremely compelling and talented cast to maintain the audience's interest for the duration of its marathon runtime. This year's revival of the piece at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, starring Nathan Lane and Brian Dennehy, remained endlessly compelling right up to the bitter end thanks to the skill of the performers and the unwavering hand of director Robert Falls. While the entire ensemble was excellent, Lane and Dennehy were the standouts, with both actors at the top of their game and Lane in particular proving why he is one of the industry's most invaluable character actors. Lane's deeply felt portrayal of tragic jokester Hickey was an expertly handled balancing act between easygoing charm and frightening pathos, and should the briefly rumored Broadway transfer ever materialize it would almost certainly net the actor his 3rd Tony Award.

6) The Visit

The Visit on Broadway was every bit as bizarre as this picture suggests, and all the better for it.

By all rights, The Visit shouldn't exist. This problem-plagued musical, originally conceived as a vehicle for Angela Lansbury back in 2000 before being retooled for perpetual Kander and Ebb muse Chita Rivera, was revised multiple times following multiple out of town tryouts and false starts that continually delayed plans for a Broadway premiere. Add to the behind the scenes drama the seemingly off-putting subject matter (the world's richest woman returns to her hometown with two eunuchs in tow, offering to solve all the town's financial troubles in exchange for the execution of her former lover), and only a very brave group of producers would have even considered backing the eventual Broadway mounting. Thank goodness they did, for while the show failed to find any commercial success, it was so gloriously strange and surreal that it will certainly to stick with those lucky enough to see it for many years to come. Kander and Ebb's final score is not as instantly memorable as their work on Cabaret or Chicago but is their most artistically mature, and John Doyle's sparse production only sharpened and clarified the narrative's otherworldly feeling. Like Kander and Ebb's best work, The Visit refused to pander to its audience, instead consistently challenging its viewers while at the same time remaining decadently entertaining and thrillingly unpredictable.



Be sure to check back tomorrow for Part II of my list!

She's Here, and Not to be Ignored

Review: The Color Purple

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Star is Born (But Not Who You Think)

Review: Dames at Sea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Style Over Substance, but a Style Worth a Second Look

Review: Spring Awakening

The vast majority of the cast of the Spring Awakening revival are making their Broadway debut, which makes their complaints about "The Bitch of a Living" a little hard to swallow.

It's been just under 9 years since the Duncan Sheik-Steven Sater musical Spring Awakening took Broadway by storm, and only 6 since that Tony-winning original production played its final performance, so you'd be forgiven for questioning why such a relatively new property already merits a full scale revival. But the Broadway transfer of Deaf West's visually stunning take on this angst filled musical drama quickly is so boldly reimagined it quickly justifies its existence, almost immediately banishing any thoughts of the original. Performed simultaneously in spoken English and American Sign Language, this Spring Awakening may ultimately be a case of style over substance, but it also proves there is more to this tale of teenage sexual discovery than initially meets the eye.

Based on a controversial German play of the same name from 1891, Spring Awakening explores the burgeoning passions of a group of teenagers who have little frame of reference for the numerous changes they're experiencing. Already in the midst of puberty, young Wendla has a whole host of questions about her developing body that her mother refuses to answer. The slightly older Moritz faces similar confusions about his growing sexual urges, and seeks the answers from his best friend and the school's star student Melchior. Melchior does his best to educate Moritz while also dealing with his growing attraction to Wendla, all of which must be handled largely in secret due to the extremely conservative parents and teachers who run the children's lives.

As written, the show is more of an expressionistic mood piece than a narrative driven musical; the plot is fairly straightforward and rather predictable, although given is roots as a century old morality tale that can be largely forgiven. Under the direction of Michael Arden and utilizing Deaf West's signature mixture of ASL and spoken dialogue, this production becomes even more stylized than the famously conceptual original. Several characters are portrayed by multiple actors, with one performer signing the role and the other voicing their dialogue and songs. Movement figures heavily into the piece, with Arden and choreographer Spencer Liff utilizing the inherent expressiveness of ASL to take the place of more traditional choreography. The emotional and visual impact of this approach cannot be overstated, with multiple musical numbers becoming heart-stoppingly gorgeous under the pair's artistic eye.

Furthering the show's visual panache is Ben Stanton's incredible lighting design, which is smartly married with Lucy MacKinnon's understated but impactful projections. Unlike many contemporary pieces, the projections here are rarely the scenic focus and at times barely noticeable, embellishing the already rich lighting and movement rather than replacing them. When the staging, lights, and projections are all working in perfect harmony, as they do during "The Mirror-Blue Night" and the showstopping "Totally Fucked," Spring Awakening becomes one of the most visually arresting productions of the year. Arden and his team do an exceptional job of communicating the excitement and terror of being a teenager reaching sexual maturity, and the production's greatest accomplishment is reminding the audience of this universally shared experience.

The performances are generally strong, although the relative inexperience of some cast members does prevent the show from becoming all it can be. Sandra Mae Frank is wonderfully expressive as Wendla, ably supported by Katie Boeck as the Voice of Wendla. Of all the characters played by multiple actors, Frank and Boeck are the most in sync, bringing out Wendla's youthful innocence without seeming so naïve she becomes difficult to root for. Daniel N. Durant and Alex Boniello aren't quite as successful as the deeply troubled Moritz (Durant signs, Boniello speaks), occasionally telegraphing the character's fate even more than the already blunt script. Austin P. McKenzie both signs and sings the role of Melchoir with an appealing earnestness, helping to ground the production as it veers into more melodramatic territory during the second act.

In supporting roles, both Andy Mientus (as the seductive Hanschen) and Krysta Rodriguez (as runaway Ilse) make strong impressions. Oscar winner Marlee Matlin makes her Broadway debut playing several of the Adult Women, a responsibility she shares with fellow screen star Camryn Manheim. Both actresses are in fine form, commanding the stage with their presence and providing multiple fully realized characters during their limited stagetime. Patrick Page is also excellent as the majority of the Adult Men, using his distinctively musical speaking voice to maximum effect as most of the play's authority figures.

Overall, there is plenty to recommend this new Spring Awakening, both to the show's diehard fans and those who might be skeptical of the piece's artistic merits. The book might not hold together quite as well as it seemed to 9 years ago, but the score is arguably even more impressive in hindsight. Combined with director Arden and choreographer Liff's pulse-pounding staging and the committed performances from the production's game cast, the show still has a lot to say about the confusion of puberty and the dangers of trying to shield children from the world's less seemly realities. The thorough integration of ASL into the show's very fiber is so well done it is difficult to imagine what the piece would be like without it, and for that reason alone this revival is both justified and worth the price of admission.

The Advent of the Closely Timed Revival

A scene from Deaf West's production of Spring Awakening, soon to transfer to Broadway's Brooks Atkinson Theatre.

Now that all of the buzz has died down from the 2015 Tony Awards (one more hooray for Kelli O'Hara!) the industry has turned its eyes firmly forward. The dates and venues for next season's shows are firming up, and following a week of intense speculation producer Ken Davenport has officially announced a Broadway transfer of Deaf West's production of Spring Awakening, which uses both hearing and deaf actors to perform the material in spoken English and American Sign Language. Originally an unsourced rumor from Deadline, the posting of a detailed casting breakdown on the Actor's Equity Association website let the cat out of the bag about the revival, and today Davenport confirmed that the show will be taking up residence at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre just a month after It Shoulda Been You in early August.

The problem, at least for me, is that the original production of Awakening closed only six years ago. Ever since the early 90s when revivals (and specifically musical revivals) became a major factor in the Broadway landscape, the timeframe between productions has steadily shrunk. With rare exceptions made for popular star vehicles like Gypsy or Death of a Salesman, most shows would go 15 years or more between Main Steam productions. Lately, it's not uncommon to see something like La Cage aux Folles revived twice in a decade, or the mere five years that separated Bernadette Peters' and Patti LuPone's Gypsies. Hell, the last two Macbeth revivals premiered within mere months of one another in 2013!

Deaf West's Spring Awakening is the third revival of the upcoming season to occur less than a decade after the previous Broadway incarnation. John Doyle's stripped down The Color Purple is opening almost 10 years to the day after the show first premiered (and marks the long awaited Broadway debut of Oscar and Grammy-winner Jennifer Hudson). A View from the Bridge last played Broadway in a well-reviewed production in 2010, but Lincoln Center is reviving it once again for a limited run in the fall. And while 11 years will have technically passed between Alfred Molina and Danny Burstein's Tevyes in Fiddler on the Roof, the timing of the 2 productions still seems a little close for comfort.

Given the well documented Broadway theatre crunch - there are far more Broadway-aimed productions than there are available theatres - one has to ask if the growing abundance of such closely timed revivals a good thing for the industry. After all, these aren't just shows we've seen, but shows we've seen recently. Even if the new production radically reinvents the property (and removing the turntable from your set does not count as a "radical reinvention," Les Miserables!), the audience may not be ready to digest such a major rethinking of a familiar show so soon after their last go round with the material. As much as I love revisiting old favorites, I love being exposed to new stories and talents even more, and between long running hits like Wicked and Phantom and the steady parade of revivals, getting those new works in front of a Broadway audience has become increasingly difficult. In general, I would prefer the time and resources being expended on these revivals be put towards new works, so we can create a new generation of classics rather than revisiting the same material over and over again (a practice that is slowly killing the opera world).

That said, at least The Color Purple and Spring Awakening have the good sense to come in with concepts substantially different from their initial Broadway runs, limiting the number of direct comparisons. A View from the Bridge and Fiddler both sound like fairly traditional takes on well-worn material, which makes them harder to justify no matter how strong the talent involved. This doesn't make either show an immediate lost cause - the LuPone Gypsy was specifically designed to be a traditional take on material which had been unsuccessfully reconfigured to accommodate the non-traditional casting of Bernadette Peters in 2003, and LuPone's rendition is quite possibly the greatest theatrical production I've ever seen. But doing the same material in the same fashion does create a higher benchmark for the new productions to surpass to justify charging Broadway prices and eating up Broadway resources.

Like every artistic endeavor, there are no hard and fast rules about when the time is right for a revival. It took 38 years for Broadway to get a miscast, poorly directed Promises, Promises that did little more than convince most audience members the show was hopelessly dated. Meanwhile, Roundabout brought back the exact same Tony-winning Cabaret they produced in 1998 and proved that Kander and Ebb's deliciously dark masterpiece is just as shocking, fascinating, and illuminating as it ever was. But overall, given the abundance of both new material and older shows that haven't been seen on Broadway in the new millennium, I can't help but wish that producers would place a little less emphasis on the familiar. Artistically, I think the industry would be better for it.

Something Truly Wonderful

Review: The King and I

Ken Watanabe and Kelli O'Hara are exquisitely matched in Bartlett Sher's knockout revival of Rodgers and Hammerstein's The King and I.

There's no such thing as perfection, especially in a subjective artistic medium like the theatre. That said, Lincoln Center's ravishing, radiant, and visually stunning revival of Rodgers and Hammerstein's The King and I is so close to an ideal evening at the theatre that for all intents and purposes it is exactly that. Perhaps even more than the non-profit's critically lauded South Pacific several seasons back, this revival removes all artifice, pretention, and preexisting baggage from a well worn show and reveals it anew as an emotionally complex, culturally relevant and deeply moving piece of musical writing from one of the greatest creative teams to ever live.

Following the pitch perfect overture (played by a 29 piece orchestra under the baton of Ted Sperling), we are whisked away to the beautifully exotic kingdom of Siam circa 1862. On the prow of an incoming ship we meet British schoolteacher Anna Leonowens (a luminous Kelli O'Hara), who has come to this faraway land with her son to educate the King of Siam's many children and wives in the ways of the West. The imposing and often temperamental King (a gleeful Ken Watanabe, in his Broadway debut) has more than a few clashes with the strong-willed Misses Anna as the show turns an intelligent and quizzical eye towards issues of imperialism, gender politics, and the qualifications of a good ruler. There are multiple subplots to round out the evening, but the central relationship of Anna and the King is the musical's primary concern, and it is one of the most richly textured and nuanced in the entire musical theatre cannon.

Despite the show's age, nothing about director Barlett Sher's superlative staging feels dusty or antiquated; indeed, many of Hammerstein's observations about gender politics and race relations remain relevant even today. Sher unearths the many layers in both the book scenes and the songs in such a way that everything feels necessary, and every line, lyric, and piece of incidental musical adds to our overall understanding of the characters and the plot. Unlike many productions of Rodgers and Hammerstein's work, there is nothing precious or twee about this revival, which treats the work with the same seriousness as a great drama without shying away from the piece's inherent humor and charm. And moreso than almost any other director working today, Sher knows how to make excellent use of the cavernous Vivian Beaumont Theatre's thrust stage, creating a neverending series of beautiful stage pictures that seamlessly ensure a good view of the action no matter where you're sitting (Christopher Gattelli's choreography is equally entrancing).

Once again, Sher guides his frequent collaborator Kelli O'Hara to a performance of startling depth and emotional honesty. Rodgers and Hammerstein's score doesn't allow O'Hara to show the full range of her gorgeous soprano, but that doesn't prevent her from sounding absolutely stunning on the score's many standards. When she wraps her golden tones around "Getting to Know You," it's every bit as warm and inviting as you'd hope, and her rendition of "Hello, Young Lovers" is positively captivating. But it's not just O'Hara's nearly unequalled vocal technique that makes her a joy to watch; her thoughtful, textured delivery of the lyrics makes these much sung songs sound like entirely new, spur of the moment thoughts (a quality best showcased during her superlative "Shall I Tell You What I Think of You?" towards the end of the first act). O'Hara makes you believe every syllable of what she's saying, and she imbues every gesture with a multitude of meaning in yet another stellar addition to her ever growing resume.

Her performance is matched every step of the way by an incredibly affecting and genuinely exciting star turn from Ken Watanabe as the King. Watanabe doesn't completely throw out the template created by Tony-winner Yul Brynner, but by the end of the show he has created a take on the commanding monarch that is wholly his own and just as effective. His King exhibits a palpable joy when learning more about his charge and her culture, and both the actor and the character clearly relish their frequent, playful sparring with O'Hara's Anna. Yet the immensely likable Watanabe is also capable of producing an intense anger that strikes fear in his subjects' hearts, a juxtaposition that explains why most of the characters seem both terrified and fiercely protective of their King. Most importantly, Watanabe has excellent chemistry with O'Hara, which pays off in spades during their exhilarating "Shall We Dance?"

The supporting cast is just as capable as the leads, often while being given decidedly less to work with. Ruthie Ann Miles is superb as the King's primary wife Lady Thiang, showing exquisite depth and nuance as she regally slinks across the stage and turning "Something Wonderful" into a legitimate showstopper. As the impetuous Tuptim, a young girl given to the King as a gift despite longing for another, Ashley Park displays beautiful vocal control during her soaring ballads and also grounds the particularly harrowing confrontation between herself and the King during the show's climax. Jake Lucas brings surprising honesty to his performance as Anna's son Louis, and shares a particularly lovely duet with Jon Viktor Corpuz's Prince Chulalongkorn, the King's eldest son and heir.

For the physical production, Lincoln Center and the show's design team have pulled out all the stops, creating one of the most unabashedly gorgeous musicals of the past decade. Michael Yeargan's gasp-inducing set is a continual delight, its rich color palette and thoughtfully detailed scenic units combining to create a world that is at once mystifying and intoxicating. Catherine Zuber's costumes are a show unto themselves, resplendent jewel toned creations that celebrate the musical's Asian setting without feeling tacky or disrespectful. There is a beautiful movement to all of her pieces, but most especially the showstopping dress O'Hara dons during the famous "Shall We Dance" waltz; watching the iridescent purple gown twirl about the massive stage is one of the most stunning and memorable images of the season. And everything is beautifully lit by Donald Holder in bold colors and patterns that make the already expansive set appear even larger than it actually is.

The King and I is must see theatre, the kind of event show that only comes along once in a great while. Everything about this revival sparkles, from Sher's direction to the uniformly fantastic performances to the absolutely breathtaking production design. It is difficult to imagine a more accomplished production of this oft-produced show, and this version is sure to stay with you long after the final ultimo emanates from the Beaumont's orchestra pit. It is something wonderful indeed.