I went to the second preview of "Memphis" tonight, and I have to say I'm a bit troubled by it. I went in with zero expectations. A show by Joe DiPietro (All Shook Up, I Love You You're Perfect Now Change) and David Bryan (of Bon Jovi and Toxic Avenger: The Musical) with no stars, and no discernible buzz, at the huge Shubert Theatre was a bit of a head scratcher. But I was curious enough to go, and go I did. And it absolutely blew away my zero expectations. The score is fantastic. It's a wonderful collection of toe-tapping, humumumumable melodies, with only one or two that screamed out "cut me." I can't wait for the cast recording. It's the most accessible and entertaining score I've heard since Alan Menken's "Sister Act" (my favorite pick-me-up cast recording at the moment). And the performers are all absolutely wonderful. Chad Kimball seemed to be a bit of a one-trick-pony after his acclaimed performance as Milky White in the Into The Woods revival, and lousy performances in every else since. Well, he's finally broken out of playing the cutesy type here, and he's pretty darn good. Even better is Montego Glover, who deserves at least a Tony nomination for her performance. Oh and the set and the lighting and the (most of) the choreography? All stellar.
The problem is - and what make the show a heartbreaker - is that the story has a big black hole in the middle. I found myself thinking a little of Pal Joey, in that the main character Huey, isn't particularly likable. He's not a nasty person like Joey Evans. He certainly always means well. He's just a loser. The story of "Memphis" is that this white screw-up high school dropout who can't read, decides he wants to bring black music to white folk (treading in similar paths as Dreamgirls or Hairspray, I suppose, in the whole trying to integrate via music vein). Thanks to luck, obnoxiousness, and so leaps of logic the audience is expected to accept, he becomes the number one DJ in Memphis and falls in love with a black singer. Act one charts his rise to fame, and act two his downfall. The problem is that the audience really has no reason to root for him. And because we never really have any reason to root for him, we don't really care when things fall apart in the end. He did nothing to earn his fame, so if it's taken away from him, so what? His girlfriend is really very sweet and likable, and we care about her and her inevitable broken heart to a certain extent, but it's not enough. Especially since the two frankly have absolutely no chemistry. So what ends up happening, especially in the second act, is that every time the cast starts to sing, the audience comes alive, and then when the songs stop and we have to listen to dialogue that moves this story along that we frankly don't care about, well... the thumbs switch from snapping to twiddling.
I mentioned above that I loved almost all the choreography. The one exception was the hopelessly cheesy dancing Sergio Trujillo came up with for the final song - the very worst place to let an audience down. It seemed like it was probably period inspired, but it to be it just seemed hopelessly dated and uninspired, and frankly very reminiscent of what he used in the finale of Jersey Boys. For Jersey Boys it worked. Here, not at all.
Memphis is such a frustrating show. I almost want to say I liked and recommend it despite its short comings, but the second act really has such problems, I'm torn. I'll be curious to see how this show ends up doing at the box office.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Boo-sca Alley
It appears Peter Gelb made quite the boo-boo, when he hired Luc Bondy to direct a new production of Tosca at the Met. The new production opened the opera season tonight, and not since Mary Zimmerman's reviled La Sonnambula last season, has so much booing been heard in response to the creative team's curtain call. There were a couple of boos after the first act, a few more after the second, and by the time the curtain came down on act three, presumably in response to the pathetic staging of Tosca's jump that served as the icing on the mud pie, well it was pretty much unanimous throughout the audience.
And it's really too bad, because there was some fabulous singing in the production from Karita Mattila's Tosca and Marcelo Alvarez's Cavaradossi. And of course James Levine's Met orchestra was divine. I will say last minute replacement George Gagnidze's Scarpia was totally underwhelming, well acted perhaps, but very often drowned out by the orchestra. A beautiful voice can make one forget lousy acting (see: Marcelo Alvarez), but if we can't hear you, well most people aren't fans of mimes.
I don't consider myself one of those crazy traditionalists who thinks Zeffirelli's original production was the greatest thing since sliced bread - or since his Aida, anyway. Even though the sets throughout were absolutely hideous, there were a few well staged moments in this production that were downright disturbing that I never really felt while watching the old Met production. The character of Scarpia especially, I was never so creeped out by before. I think in the old Zef production, everyone was so busy looking at the pretty sets and listening to the beautiful music, the audience missed out a bit on just how disturbing the story really is, and how real these characters can be, when directed and staged properly. This production was such a mess that the thrilling moments were few and far between, but I did leave the first and second acts (the third was just a total travesty), but now more than ever I find myself really craving a really well thought out, probably somewhat barer staging of Tosca. And I still drool at the thought of the Bregenz production described in Variety.
I mean, I know the most important thing in an opera is the music, and this Tosca has that down pat. But when a director botches Tosca's final jump by having her run up stairs, taunt the guards to catch her and then push them down the stairs, then run behind a wall, AND THEN have a dummy just tilt on a ledge but not actually fall off because what was underneath was either supposed to be an abyss or a body of water - no one in the audience could quite figure that one out - but it was definitely was not a pit one could fall through - well, you got trouble. Perhaps the audience was expected to believe that Tosca didn't actually jump, and this was merely a set up for next season's world premiere, "Tosca 2: Tosca's Revenge." Except I have a suspicion that Tosca's Revenge may actually amount to a return to life for the old Zeffirelli production which presumably is sitting in mothballs somewhere in New Jersey, waiting for an outcome just like this to rear its opulent head once again. We can only pray.
And it's really too bad, because there was some fabulous singing in the production from Karita Mattila's Tosca and Marcelo Alvarez's Cavaradossi. And of course James Levine's Met orchestra was divine. I will say last minute replacement George Gagnidze's Scarpia was totally underwhelming, well acted perhaps, but very often drowned out by the orchestra. A beautiful voice can make one forget lousy acting (see: Marcelo Alvarez), but if we can't hear you, well most people aren't fans of mimes.
I don't consider myself one of those crazy traditionalists who thinks Zeffirelli's original production was the greatest thing since sliced bread - or since his Aida, anyway. Even though the sets throughout were absolutely hideous, there were a few well staged moments in this production that were downright disturbing that I never really felt while watching the old Met production. The character of Scarpia especially, I was never so creeped out by before. I think in the old Zef production, everyone was so busy looking at the pretty sets and listening to the beautiful music, the audience missed out a bit on just how disturbing the story really is, and how real these characters can be, when directed and staged properly. This production was such a mess that the thrilling moments were few and far between, but I did leave the first and second acts (the third was just a total travesty), but now more than ever I find myself really craving a really well thought out, probably somewhat barer staging of Tosca. And I still drool at the thought of the Bregenz production described in Variety.
I mean, I know the most important thing in an opera is the music, and this Tosca has that down pat. But when a director botches Tosca's final jump by having her run up stairs, taunt the guards to catch her and then push them down the stairs, then run behind a wall, AND THEN have a dummy just tilt on a ledge but not actually fall off because what was underneath was either supposed to be an abyss or a body of water - no one in the audience could quite figure that one out - but it was definitely was not a pit one could fall through - well, you got trouble. Perhaps the audience was expected to believe that Tosca didn't actually jump, and this was merely a set up for next season's world premiere, "Tosca 2: Tosca's Revenge." Except I have a suspicion that Tosca's Revenge may actually amount to a return to life for the old Zeffirelli production which presumably is sitting in mothballs somewhere in New Jersey, waiting for an outcome just like this to rear its opulent head once again. We can only pray.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Inferior Donuts
If Tracy Letts had any good sense, he would have retired from playwriting after "August: Osage County." Instead, he gave us "Superior Donuts." And "September: Osage County" it is not. To put things in terms of Winnie the Pooh, if August was all hyper and bouncy and exciting like Tigger, Superior Donuts is sort of slow and sweet like Eeyore. Except everyone loves Eeyore, and as the woman sitting in the row in front of me, who left five minutes before the show ended as she stormed into the hallway, "This is the worst thing I've ever..." (and that's all we got before the door closed behind her). While I don't agree with her assessment, Superior Donuts is indeed far from a perfect play.
On the plus side, Michael McKean is fabulous as the immensely likable hippy owner of a donut shop in Chicago. It's so not a performance I would have expected from him, which made it all the better. The play is about the owner of the donut shop, and the feisty college drop-out who he is convinced to employ (by the boy himself). The scenes between the two really crackle, and make up the high points of the play. Unfortunately they're not always on stage together, and while McKean's character is just as entertaining when he is interacting with the other folks in the play, the boy's character in his one scene alone, while important to the story, is really very dull. And McKean doesn't escape unscathed either, because Letts took his character's backstory, chopped it up into manageable bits, and has him deliver them directly to the audience in between scenes. In response to that extremely lazy playwriting, I strongly suggest the audience take the opportunity to grab short naps in those sections of the play, because they seemed, quite frankly, to be almost entirely unnecessary.
Also unfortunate, are the final two scenes. Well actually to back up a little bit more, in what I guess was the antepenultimate scene, which is actually very emotional, the play is rudely interrupted a number of times by what I think must have been the crowd reaction to Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig exiting the stage door across the street from the Music Box, where Superior Donuts is playing. I was in the center of the rear mezzanine (which by the way are fine seats) and heard the screaming, so I can only imagine what those in the orchestra heard. I almost wish the producers would decide to change the start time of all the performances to 7pm, just to avoid that irritating distraction. Or they could cut McKean's monologues, thus shortening the play and avoiding the problem that way.
Anyway, so then we have the penultimate scene, which include an absolutely ridiculous (yes that term also comes from the woman who would later storm out, but this time she was right) fight scene that is not only very unconvincingly executed (chalk that up to this being the first preview), but also just didn't make sense period. I won't spoil the reason for the fight, but it was a jaw-dropper of absurdity. Then the final scene started out as emotional - and perhaps I felt this way because I was distracted by the walk-out - just devolved into sappy and dull.
It's too bad the final scenes were such a let down, because there IS a lot to enjoy in the play. I don't think I mentioned the other supporting actors, but I should say that there is absolutely not a weak link in the ensemble. The roles may not all be the juiciest, but they are all absolutely believably performed.
I hope Letts takes this preview period to continue making changes to the play (*cough* like rethinking the monologues *cough*). I read somewhere that he said he made a number of changes between the Chicago and NY runs, so hopefully some of the things that didn't work were just experiments that didn't work. Despite some serious moments, the play comes across a quite slight, which I thought was kind of a nice change of pace. It was sort of refreshing to see a play that didn't run the audience through the emotional ringer. It's not so bad to see something that's merely pleasant every now and then. That is unless you've payed $116.50 for it.
(This is a totally random aside, but when I typed those *cough*s in the last paragraph, I actually started coughing. That's never happened before. Craaaaazy.)
On the plus side, Michael McKean is fabulous as the immensely likable hippy owner of a donut shop in Chicago. It's so not a performance I would have expected from him, which made it all the better. The play is about the owner of the donut shop, and the feisty college drop-out who he is convinced to employ (by the boy himself). The scenes between the two really crackle, and make up the high points of the play. Unfortunately they're not always on stage together, and while McKean's character is just as entertaining when he is interacting with the other folks in the play, the boy's character in his one scene alone, while important to the story, is really very dull. And McKean doesn't escape unscathed either, because Letts took his character's backstory, chopped it up into manageable bits, and has him deliver them directly to the audience in between scenes. In response to that extremely lazy playwriting, I strongly suggest the audience take the opportunity to grab short naps in those sections of the play, because they seemed, quite frankly, to be almost entirely unnecessary.
Also unfortunate, are the final two scenes. Well actually to back up a little bit more, in what I guess was the antepenultimate scene, which is actually very emotional, the play is rudely interrupted a number of times by what I think must have been the crowd reaction to Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig exiting the stage door across the street from the Music Box, where Superior Donuts is playing. I was in the center of the rear mezzanine (which by the way are fine seats) and heard the screaming, so I can only imagine what those in the orchestra heard. I almost wish the producers would decide to change the start time of all the performances to 7pm, just to avoid that irritating distraction. Or they could cut McKean's monologues, thus shortening the play and avoiding the problem that way.
Anyway, so then we have the penultimate scene, which include an absolutely ridiculous (yes that term also comes from the woman who would later storm out, but this time she was right) fight scene that is not only very unconvincingly executed (chalk that up to this being the first preview), but also just didn't make sense period. I won't spoil the reason for the fight, but it was a jaw-dropper of absurdity. Then the final scene started out as emotional - and perhaps I felt this way because I was distracted by the walk-out - just devolved into sappy and dull.
It's too bad the final scenes were such a let down, because there IS a lot to enjoy in the play. I don't think I mentioned the other supporting actors, but I should say that there is absolutely not a weak link in the ensemble. The roles may not all be the juiciest, but they are all absolutely believably performed.
I hope Letts takes this preview period to continue making changes to the play (*cough* like rethinking the monologues *cough*). I read somewhere that he said he made a number of changes between the Chicago and NY runs, so hopefully some of the things that didn't work were just experiments that didn't work. Despite some serious moments, the play comes across a quite slight, which I thought was kind of a nice change of pace. It was sort of refreshing to see a play that didn't run the audience through the emotional ringer. It's not so bad to see something that's merely pleasant every now and then. That is unless you've payed $116.50 for it.
(This is a totally random aside, but when I typed those *cough*s in the last paragraph, I actually started coughing. That's never happened before. Craaaaazy.)
Saturday, September 12, 2009
A Shakespearean Travesty and A Play That Ain't Too 'Broke'
This is a public service announcement. If you were "lucky" enough to score tickets to the sold out production of Peter Sellars' "Othello," starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and John Ortiz at NYU (co-produced by the Public), I strongly urge you to scalp your tickets before the reviews come out. Because once word of mouth gets out, you're going to have a very expensive bookmark on your hands. The production is, as the angry woman in front of me said, "a travesty." Philip Seymour Hoffman and John Ortiz seemed to be acting in different plays: Hoffman's performance seemed to be in an over-the-top classical one, and was notable for its excessive screaming and lack of any sense of his character; Ortiz seemed to be in a third rate high school one, and listening to him recite Shakespeare made me appreciate how one of my high school English teachers insisted on playing professional recordings of Shakespeare plays for the class rather than have students attempt to recite them.
The set consists of a bed made out of television sets, showing random images, the meaning of which are known only the the director and designed. Director Sellars randomly combined characters to the point where even though I've seen both the original play (in an excellent production at BAM) and Verdi's opera version, I had only the faintest idea of what was going on onstage.
The entire play in this production apparently runs over four hours. I, along with the majority of the audience, escaped at the intermission which arrived after a grueling two hours and fifteen minutes.
I expect this production will transfer to Henry Miller's Theatre after its run downtown, as this production fits in quite nicely with the Roundabout's usual fare.
On a happier note, I was pleasantly surprised Friday night by "Broke-ology," which just began performances at the Mitzi E Newhouse. It's a bit slow, but the performances are absolutely wonderful, and the play is surprisingly heartbreaking (I was pretty close to shedding a tear of two). I can't remember the last time I saw four performers who had such beautiful chemistry together. I was especially moved by Wendell Pierce's performance as the father. He just exuded such warmth and joy. I defy you to not smile when watching him dance alone in his living room. I tell you it can't be done. For my taste, the play could definitely use some cutting, because despite the handful of scenes that are so good they make the production worthwhile, I did quite a bit of imaginary thumb twiddling. And though the staging was quite good from my seat in the center of the theatre, I couldn't help but think that the production looking like it was designed and staged for a standard proscenium stage, and the the thrust one they have at the Newhouse. Sort of like the fabulous Twelfth Night that was performed this summer as part of Shakespeare in the Park. I don't think the side seats would be considered obstructed view at all, but I did get the impression that the set was not designed just for the Newhouse - the production is a transfer from Williamstown, so I suppose that may be true - I don't know how the Nikos Theatre is set up, or what the set looked like when it was there. "Broke-ology" is by no means a must see, but you could certainly do worse (like seeing "Othello"). Oh, and they should totally sell mini versions of Stubby/Chauncey (the garden gnome from the play) in the gift shop. They would be huge sellers. So cute.
The set consists of a bed made out of television sets, showing random images, the meaning of which are known only the the director and designed. Director Sellars randomly combined characters to the point where even though I've seen both the original play (in an excellent production at BAM) and Verdi's opera version, I had only the faintest idea of what was going on onstage.
The entire play in this production apparently runs over four hours. I, along with the majority of the audience, escaped at the intermission which arrived after a grueling two hours and fifteen minutes.
I expect this production will transfer to Henry Miller's Theatre after its run downtown, as this production fits in quite nicely with the Roundabout's usual fare.
On a happier note, I was pleasantly surprised Friday night by "Broke-ology," which just began performances at the Mitzi E Newhouse. It's a bit slow, but the performances are absolutely wonderful, and the play is surprisingly heartbreaking (I was pretty close to shedding a tear of two). I can't remember the last time I saw four performers who had such beautiful chemistry together. I was especially moved by Wendell Pierce's performance as the father. He just exuded such warmth and joy. I defy you to not smile when watching him dance alone in his living room. I tell you it can't be done. For my taste, the play could definitely use some cutting, because despite the handful of scenes that are so good they make the production worthwhile, I did quite a bit of imaginary thumb twiddling. And though the staging was quite good from my seat in the center of the theatre, I couldn't help but think that the production looking like it was designed and staged for a standard proscenium stage, and the the thrust one they have at the Newhouse. Sort of like the fabulous Twelfth Night that was performed this summer as part of Shakespeare in the Park. I don't think the side seats would be considered obstructed view at all, but I did get the impression that the set was not designed just for the Newhouse - the production is a transfer from Williamstown, so I suppose that may be true - I don't know how the Nikos Theatre is set up, or what the set looked like when it was there. "Broke-ology" is by no means a must see, but you could certainly do worse (like seeing "Othello"). Oh, and they should totally sell mini versions of Stubby/Chauncey (the garden gnome from the play) in the gift shop. They would be huge sellers. So cute.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Bland Birdie
In honor of the start of the new Broadway season (I'm not counting "Burn the Floor" because it's really better that way), I'm back from my unintentional hiatus (aka long bout of laziness). Yay?
Last month I waited more hours then I care to admit for $10 tickets to the first preview of the Roundabout's new production of "Bye Bye Birdie." Not because I like the show, but because I really wanted a free lunchbox. And to see the first public performance at the new Henry Miller's Theatre. As it turned out, I ended up just missing the cut off for the lunchboxes, but I instead got a reproduction of the original "Birdie" Playbill, which was signed by the Charles Strouse and Lee Adams, and which is so much cooler than a lunchbox. And considering the size and clutter level of my apartment, much more space efficient as well. Anyway, today was the day for the first preview, and so off I went.
The theatre itself is about on par with the other newly built Broadway theatres - the Minskoff, Marquis and Gershwin: comfortable seats, good sightlines, and utterly lacking in personality. So it's appropriate I guess that this production of "Bye Bye Birdie" should re-open in this new space: a classic show mounted in a modern, slick, and extremely bland new production. Pretty much everything wrong with the production could be summed up in the first two scenes. First we have Gina Gershon sing "An English Teacher." And she's off-key (a problem she continues having at random times throughout the show, as do other members of the cast). Her onstage companion is the bland John Stamos who try as he might, was really unable to convincingly make Albert the shy pushover he needs to be in the early scenes (this proves a problem in the dreary second act, when he finally stands up for himself, and the audience is not shocked at all). Then we move on to "The Telephone Hour" which was ruined... or rather, restaged by director/choreographer Robert Longbottom, I guess becuase he wanted to remove himself from the original as much as possible? It just seems like certain scenes are iconic, and if you can't improve on them - and here they most certainly do not - well, why not just go with the ol' if it ain't broke don't fix it adage.
The show continues in the dull path set by the first two scenes. Allie Trimm's Kim is so forgettable I can't remember anything that she did to complain about. Memorably bad however, is Nolan Gerard Funk (Birdie), who quite frankly can't sing, can't dance, can't act, and has absolutely no sex appeal. Pathetic.
The supporting cast is at least decent. Highlights were Matt Doyle's charming Hugo, and Jayne Houdyshell as Albert's mother. Houdyshell seemed to be holding back, but I think if she could really camp up her part and start doing some serious scenery chewing (though it's a lot of metal and projections, so maybe it would hurt her teeth), I think she could steal the show. Right now she's a little blah. But I think she at least shows room for improvement.
I'll cap my criticism there, because this was a first preview, and I am going back later in the run to see how the performances improve. More than other first nights I've been to, this very much felt like an unfinished product up on stage. Whether it can be pulled together in time for opening remains to be seen, but I have to say I'm a bit skeptical just because so much of it seems miscast, and unimaginatively directed/choreographed. And really, is it possible to make that second act entertaining? It takes soooo long for nothing to happen. Uch.
Oh one last thought, a spoiler I guess - the show did make me shed a few tears: when Stamos and Gershon sing "Rosie" at the end (a song with many references to roses), the panels at the back of the stage slowly started moving away and I said to myself 'if they project roses onto the screen on the back wall I'm going to cry.' They did. I did. Is it so much to ask the designers to show some self control?
Last month I waited more hours then I care to admit for $10 tickets to the first preview of the Roundabout's new production of "Bye Bye Birdie." Not because I like the show, but because I really wanted a free lunchbox. And to see the first public performance at the new Henry Miller's Theatre. As it turned out, I ended up just missing the cut off for the lunchboxes, but I instead got a reproduction of the original "Birdie" Playbill, which was signed by the Charles Strouse and Lee Adams, and which is so much cooler than a lunchbox. And considering the size and clutter level of my apartment, much more space efficient as well. Anyway, today was the day for the first preview, and so off I went.
The theatre itself is about on par with the other newly built Broadway theatres - the Minskoff, Marquis and Gershwin: comfortable seats, good sightlines, and utterly lacking in personality. So it's appropriate I guess that this production of "Bye Bye Birdie" should re-open in this new space: a classic show mounted in a modern, slick, and extremely bland new production. Pretty much everything wrong with the production could be summed up in the first two scenes. First we have Gina Gershon sing "An English Teacher." And she's off-key (a problem she continues having at random times throughout the show, as do other members of the cast). Her onstage companion is the bland John Stamos who try as he might, was really unable to convincingly make Albert the shy pushover he needs to be in the early scenes (this proves a problem in the dreary second act, when he finally stands up for himself, and the audience is not shocked at all). Then we move on to "The Telephone Hour" which was ruined... or rather, restaged by director/choreographer Robert Longbottom, I guess becuase he wanted to remove himself from the original as much as possible? It just seems like certain scenes are iconic, and if you can't improve on them - and here they most certainly do not - well, why not just go with the ol' if it ain't broke don't fix it adage.
The show continues in the dull path set by the first two scenes. Allie Trimm's Kim is so forgettable I can't remember anything that she did to complain about. Memorably bad however, is Nolan Gerard Funk (Birdie), who quite frankly can't sing, can't dance, can't act, and has absolutely no sex appeal. Pathetic.
The supporting cast is at least decent. Highlights were Matt Doyle's charming Hugo, and Jayne Houdyshell as Albert's mother. Houdyshell seemed to be holding back, but I think if she could really camp up her part and start doing some serious scenery chewing (though it's a lot of metal and projections, so maybe it would hurt her teeth), I think she could steal the show. Right now she's a little blah. But I think she at least shows room for improvement.
I'll cap my criticism there, because this was a first preview, and I am going back later in the run to see how the performances improve. More than other first nights I've been to, this very much felt like an unfinished product up on stage. Whether it can be pulled together in time for opening remains to be seen, but I have to say I'm a bit skeptical just because so much of it seems miscast, and unimaginatively directed/choreographed. And really, is it possible to make that second act entertaining? It takes soooo long for nothing to happen. Uch.
Oh one last thought, a spoiler I guess - the show did make me shed a few tears: when Stamos and Gershon sing "Rosie" at the end (a song with many references to roses), the panels at the back of the stage slowly started moving away and I said to myself 'if they project roses onto the screen on the back wall I'm going to cry.' They did. I did. Is it so much to ask the designers to show some self control?
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