Glorious Music, Sung Gloriously

Review: The Bridges of Madison County

If Kelli O'Hara doesn't win the Tony for her work in Bridges, there is no justice in the world.

They simply don't make them like this anymore.  The Bridges of Madison County, the musical adaptation of the bestselling book currently playing the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, is the type of sweeping musical drama that has fallen out of favor in recent years.  Unabashedly earnest in its sentiment, the exquisitely scored Bridges features two central performances so transcendent they more than compensate for the musical's occasional listlessness via the sheer intensity of their star wattage.

The musical focuses on a brief but intense affair between Italian-American housewife Francesca (a positively radiant Kelli O'Hara) and National Geographic photographer Robert Kincaid (the smoldering Steven Pasquale, in his Broadway musical debut).  A war bride brought back to Madison County, Iowa by blue collar farmer Bud (Hunter Foster), Francesca has spent two decades being the dutiful wife and mother, so complacent in her role that she doesn't even realize how unfulfilled she feels.  When Robert innocently asks Francesca for directions to one of the titular covered bridges, a simple invitation to tea blossoms into a passionate, all-consuming love that forces Francesca to re-examine every choice she's ever made.

The material could easily descend in schmaltzy sentimentality, but never does thanks to the incredible contributions of composer Jason Robert Brown.  Brown rocketed to fame on the strength of his Broadway debut Parade, and his small but sterling body of work since then has only reconfirmed his early promise as one of the theatre's finest tunesmiths.  Brown's work on Bridges is that of a fully matured artist, able to write music that is irrefutably gorgeous in its own right while also perfectly servicing plot and character development.  He possesses a rare, precise understanding of the full potential of the human voice, and continually shows his knack for writing conversational yet deeply profound lyrics. Bridges finds Brown equally adept at writing lilting, mournfully introspective songs like "Another Life" (a knockout solo for, of all characters, Robert's ex-wife) and soaring, operatic duets like "One Second and a Million Miles" (the musical highlight of the evening, and possibly the entire Broadway season).  It is a staggering achievement, the kind of richly complex score that only comes around once every few years.

The fact that Marsha Norman's libretto for Bridges doesn't reach the dizzying heights of Brown's score is disappointing, although likely unavoidable given the virtuosic intensity of the songs.  Norman tries to expand the scope of the story beyond the central lovers, inserting subplots about Francesca's family traveling to the Iowa State Fair and a prying but ultimately supportive neighbor.  While interesting in theory, these subplots have a nebulous connection to the main story and aren't developed enough to be engaging in their own right.  Norman does an excellent job of establishing Francesca's disconnection from her family, to the point where the show doesn't give her a valid reason for not immediately running off with Robert (the show's primary source of dramatic conflict).  The script also hints at deeply rooted problems between Bud and his kids but fails to truly explore them, with the eventual resolution of these problems feeling forced and unsatisfactory.

Thankfully, the cast more than makes up for the script's shortcomings.  As Francesca, four-time Tony-nominee Kelli O'Hara is a revelation, giving the most nuanced performance of her illustrious career.  Through the subtlest glance or bit of stage business, O'Hara illuminates the myriad conflicting feelings going on inside Francesca, a free spirit who willingly entered into a mundane marriage and is finally confronting the consequences.  O'Hara makes Francesca's inner life readily apparent, creating a wholly sympathetic creature from a woman who in lesser hands would be easy to judge harshly.  And when she opens her mouth to sing, O'Hara reveals a vocal mastery on par with the greatest singers to ever grace the Broadway stage.  Her crystalline soprano has never been stronger, rich and soulful as it traverses the soaring heights and unexpected depths of Brown's score.  The fact that O'Hara has yet to be rewarded with Broadway's highest honor seems somewhat ludicrous given the unending reservoir of talent on display here, and hopefully this will finally be her year when the Tony Awards are handed out in June.

Surprisingly, Steven Pasquale proves every bit her equal, and watching his masterful portrayal of the lone wolf photographer makes one regret he hasn't had the opportunity to star in a Broadway musical before now.  Pasquale imbues Robert with a quiet charisma and smoldering sensuality that is intoxicating, easily explaining why Francesca would be drawn to him.  As O'Hara does with Francesca, Pasquale gives such a clear view into Robert's inner life that you instantly understand every choice he makes.  A beautiful sincerity permeates his entire performance, preventing the character from coming across as a predatory lout.  And when Pasquale unleashes his powerful baritone, the sheer force and beauty of it sends shivers down the spine.

Director Bartlett Sher stages the show with his typical precision, coaxing uniformly fantastic performances out of his cast.  As with his previous shows, Sher is occasionally seduced by the beauty of his material, letting certain moments last one beat too long.  The final fifteen minutes of the show drag (although this partly stems from the writing), and the constant scenery changes eat up too much of the evening's running time.  But credit must be given where credit is due; performances of the caliber O'Hara and Pasquale give don't just happen, and without Sher to help guide and mold them the two actors wouldn't be nearly as effective in their roles.

The fact that a maudlin novel like The Bridges of Madison County has been turned into such a powerful piece of art is a minor miracle, and despite some small missteps it makes for a worthwhile night in the theatre.  Kelli O'Hara proves once again that she is among the best singing actresses of all time, giving the kind of deeply felt, nuanced performance that theatrical legends are made of.  Steven Pasquale matches her note for note, and together they have a fiery chemistry that makes Jason Robert Brown's sterling compositions truly soar.  In an age of revivals and disposable works of escapist entertainment, it is truly refreshing to see and hear such a serious new musical on Broadway.

Close Enough to Heaven, Despite a Few Flaws

Review:  Far From Heaven

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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