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.)

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.

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?

Beg Your Parton, But Where Is This Evening's Entertainment?

After seeing “Distracted” on Saturday nigh, my father asked me what I thought might happen if he had killed himself during the second act. And my reply was that it would be silly to waste a suicide on a play by Lisa Loomer. Might as well save it for Beckett, Pinter or Stoppard. Little did I know that I would have to console myself with that same sage advice during the second act of “9 to 5: The Musical,” just two nights later, as I strongly considered heading over the railing of the mezzanine to save myself from having to hear another one of Dolly Parton's hideous, excruciatingly bland, absolutely ghastly country songs. The thought first occurred to me during a particularly hideous duet between Andy Karl and Allison Janney. Not only was the song abysmal, Janney isn't exactly a singer, and she has absolutely no chemistry with Karl. It was at this point I wished I had had the forethought to grab some erasers from the supply closet at work, so I could stuff them in my ears. But who thought the show would be so bad? I figured it would just be some harmless fun, something mindlessly entertaining like “Hairspray” or “Mamma Mia.” Admittedly, having tried to watch the movie the musical is based on twice, and unable to stand more than twenty or thirty minutes either time, I am perhaps not the ideal audience for this show. But frankly, around the time of that duet in the second act, I actually didn't hate the story, and just kind of wished the singing would stop so there was some chance to restore function to my brain. The song that followed the hideous duet I believe was called “Get Out and Stay Out.” I'm guessing that was what it was called, since the song pretty much consisted of the lovely Stephanie J. Block belting out that line over and over again, to the melody of something that vaguely sounded like a reject from “Wicked.” I suppose it may turn into a convenient anthem for people who have suffered through the musical, since that was one of the less nasty things I wanted to shout while watching it. I was also tempted, after Allison Janney said something to the effect of “I can't take it anymore” during the final confrontation scene, to yell out “I can't either!” That, and also “Boo” a few times. But like a good little theatergoer, I kept my mouth shut, and expressed my dislike of the show with my lack of applause. It's really to bad people only find it acceptable to boo nowadays when at the opera. Broadway audiences really need to bring back the “boo.”
Of course just when to boo may me a touchy issue, because really the cast, and especially the three leading ladies are excellent. No, Allison Janney can't sing. But she is a fabulous actress. And Parton had enough good sense not to give her any songs with big notes (except for her dream sequence, but she's able to almost turn her lack of singing talent there to her comic advantage). All of the big belting is saved for Stephanie J. Block or Megan Hilty, both alumni of “Wicked,” and well versed in the “American Idol” style of singing that Broadway audiences apparently love nowadays. Poor Block just can't catch a break with her new musicals. First “The Boy From Oz,” then “The Pirate Queen,” and now this. Won't some talented composer please write a role for her that doesn't make audiences want to run from the theatre screaming? That is audiences who aren't teenage girls, who consider screaming a sign of extreme pleasure. For once I was actually kind of grateful any temporary deafness caused by the screaming behind me.
The set seems very technologically heavy, and a bit of a disaster waiting to happen. There's a big light wall at the back of the stage that handles all sort of crazy animation. I'm not a big fan of the computerized set, but this is probably the least offensive example of the form I've seen. There are also lots of trap doors, and a bit of flying, so it should be interesting to see how many problems occur during the run. If my experiences at “Priscilla” in London are any indication (more on that in my trip writeup in maybe a couple of days), things may get interesting.
The choreography reminded me a bit of Rob Ashford's work in “Cry Baby” and “The Wedding Singer.” Except this time it's by Andy Blankenbuehler. It had a bit of a been there, seen that feel.
I think that's enough vitriol spewn at this show for one night. I will say that the audience seemed to love it, though in my little group the opinions was split, with three yays (who found it entertaining) and three nays (who were varying levels of disappointed, with I suppose me being the most extreme). Leaving the theatre tonight, I was trying to decide if this is the worst Broadway musical I've seen this season. It's between this and “A Tale of Two Cities,” and I think I have to give “Two Cities” worst book, “9 to 5” worst score, and I'll have to think about which I overall disliked more. Right now I'm leaning towards “9 to 5.” I'll say this: I used to really like the title song. And now if I ever hear it again, I fear I may break out in a cold sweat.

On the plus side – not that I would wish one show to fail so another could succeed – but the total ineptitude of the “9 to 5” music would seem to be yet another step closer for “Next to Normal” to win Best Score.

Also on a positive note, I've seen two of the “Norman Conquests” so far: “Round and Round the Garden” and “Table Manners,” with the third (“Living Quarters”) hopefully happening on Saturday. I didn't like “Garden” at all when I saw it, finding it neither interesting nor at all funny. Even though the shows are advertised as stand alones, it really felt very unsatisfying. However after seeing “Table,” I not only had a workout laughing myself silly, but I gained a newfound appreciation for all that had bored me in “Garden.” There's a jokey note in the lobby from playwright Alan Ayckbourn that you shouldn't see any of the plays first, or any of them last. Well, I'm not sure about the second part of that, but I think there may be some truth to the first. Nonetheless, since I do think “Table Manners,” is the funnier of the two I've seen, I'd say if you're going to pick one to whet your appetite, that one gets my vote. We'll see how I feel after “Living Together” on Saturday. I do think seeing all three is most certainly a worthwhile experience, assuming one has the time and money, natch.

Phone Rings, Door Chimes, In Comes... well not "Happiness"

I can't help but wonder just how long Susan Stroman is going to be able to ride on the coattails of 'The Producers." Looks at what she's directed since then: "Thou Shalt Not," "The Frogs," "Young Frankenstein," and now "Happiness." Yes, there's also "Contact" on her directing resume, but that's a ballet, despite what the Tony nomination committe may think. And along with her delightful "Double Feature" at NYC Ballet, I have no complaints about her direction of BALLET. Original musicals? Well I think her record speaks for itself.
Okay, so tonight was only the first preview of a world premiere musical. Had the creative team not heard of the out of town tryout? Or did all of the regional theatres look at the musical and just reject because it's not very good. Whatever the case, this show needs a lot of work. The score is full of mediocre songs. Not one came even close to being as good as songs like "Will You?" or "Around the World" or "Another Winter in a Summer Town" or even "Jerry Likes My Corn" from Frankel and Korie's last musical, "Grey Gardens." We do, however, get songs that sound a bit like those faux-period songs from the first act of "Grey Gardens" that Edie sings at the piano. You know... the songs that were so unmemorable that I can't even remember their names? Those songs.
John Weidman's book? Seemed a bit "The Story of My Life" meets "Company" to me. The basic idea, without giving away the twist, is that all of these people are stuck in a subway car, and one by one they relive their happiest moments. In song. Except for the one guy who hasn't had a happy moment yet. So you get the treacly "let's look back at the happy times of my youth" vibe from "Story of My Life" combined with that "Company"ish structure, where each character gets their one song, which the unhappy central male character observes, and then at the end (**Spoiler alert, I guess, though it seems kind of obvious**) he sings a song about how now realizes he wants to "Be(ing) Alive" or rejoin the human race "Before the Parade Passes By" (oops, not sure how Hello Dolly slipped in there). The problem with this structure is that each character only gets one song/scene to make the audience care about them, so that better be a damn fine song. And "damn fine" is not a phrase I'd use to describe the majority of the show. There are some other songs thrown in their that the crowd sings - I suppose to break up the monotony of it all - but I'm guessing those will be the first to hit the cutting room floor, considering the show is running an overlong two hours, sans intermission right now. I did kind of enjoy the opening number, but for whatever reason, it was orchestrated to prominantly feature a synthesizer, making the song sound very 1980s. I
The set is... serviceable. The subway car doesn't look much like a New York subway car (they could have at least gotten the seats right), but then again the show also has "New Yorkers" talking to each other on the train. Has John Weidman ever actually ridden on the subway before? Because if he did, I think he'd know that even when a train is stuck in a tunnel, New Yorkers do not talk to each other. They sit there in angry silence, and angrily look at their watches, while listening to iPods or reading books or newspapers. None of this chit chat nonsense. So I guess this show isn't much for realism. Call me a jaded NYer, but people singing instead of speaking I can accept via willing suspension of disbelief. But native New York strangers talking to each other? Not so much.
Back to the set, I'm guessing it's so minimalist because Lincoln Center spent so much money on the huge cast. And a very good, huge cast it indeed is. The only weak link was probably Sebastian Arcelus who I found a bit bland. Thank goodness Joanna Gleasona and Hunter Foster have returned to musical theatre after disappointing attempts at drama. And Hunter Foster gets what was probably the most interesting choreography of the night in his song about climbing the ladder of success... using literally a ladder.
The audience response at the end seemed fairly positive - then again audiences gave warm responses to the first previews of much unloved shows like "The Little Mermaid" and "The Story of My Life" too, so I don't know how much that counts.
I have a ticket to see the show again in two weeks, so hopefully that will be enough time to do at least some of the needed work on it. But if you're expecting another "Grey Gardens," well it's probably wise to lower your expectations just a smidge. Or forty.

Just so you don't think all I do is suffer, I did see two fantastic productions last week: one was "A Winter's Tale" at BAM, and the other way Edgar Oliver's solo play, "East 10th Street." Unfortunately I'm pretty sure "A Winter's Tale" is sold out, and "East 10th Street" closes (since it's now Saturday) tonight - why Brantley waited until the next to last weekend of its returns engagement to rave about it, I'm not sure I understand. I will be sure to point out return engagements of either of those.

If you have the time or interest, you can listen to Edgar Oliver read a story here. There's something strangely hypnotic about his voice...

"Variations" of a Lifetime Original Movie

On paper, “33 Variations” sounds like a pretty good idea for a play: Beethoven was asked to write a variation on a waltz, and ended up writing not just one, but 33 variations on the theme. So a musicologist (played by Jane Fonda) goes to Bonn (home of the Beethoven archives) to try to figure out why. Only it turns out that there's not too much to tell about the writing of the variations. At least not enough to sustain a full length play. So playwright Moises Kaufman decided to give the musicologist ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease). Now it's a race against time – will the musicologist figure out the secret behind Beethoven's obsession before she dies? Does anyone care? And as if in an effort to save the play from falling so low as to qualify as a Lifetime original movie, no one really seems terribly concerned that this woman is going to die. Her daughter gets one little outburst – not screaming or crying, just a bit of pouting – and other than that it seems like everyone has just accepted that she's going to die, and there's not point in worrying about what you can't control. Yeah, because that makes for exciting theatre. You know what also makes for exciting theatre? Conflict. There's lots of ground covered in the play – so much so that quite often characters just stand at the edge of the stage, tell us how they're feeling (note tell, not show) and fill us in on what's happening in their lives. So one speech may say “I was upset my mother was dying. So I went to visit her in Germany. She's had fourteen medical since I've been there. She can't feed herself anymore. And I've fallen in love with a nurse and we've moved in together. My mother made an important discovery today.” And then we get a few lines of dialogue, which feature the musicologist in her latest mobility enhancer (over the course of the second act she goes from cane, to walker, to wheelchair, to electric wheelchair, to bed – and as if to show us that she's really sick, during intermission they give her a much less flattering hairstyle. Because sick people shouldn't have good hair?). I will say that the first act is much bigger on the explanatory monologues than the second. Partly because of that, I suppose, the first act is extremely dry and choppy. It's made up of far too many short scenes, switching between mother in Bonn, daughter in New York and Beethoven in Vienna, far too often for comfort, making the audience (or at least me) feel like we're just being barraged with a whole pile of dry information about these characters that we have no reason at all to care about. The second act is a bit warmer, and does have some nice scenes – one where Beethoven walks us through the thought process behind one of the variations (while it's played in the background by a live pianist) was quite nice, though not as interesting it certainly thought it was – the combination of lighting and music and one man standing on stage declaiming just screamed “I am a brilliant scene. Come bow at my brilliance” and well, it didn't quite deserve to think so highly of itself. Still, even if we do start to care about the characters, the almost complete lack of conflict is still absolutely evident, and the play plods on to its inevitable conclusion. Why this needed to be two and a half hours, I'm not sure. I'm sure the fact that Kaufman both wrote and directed it had something to do with that. I have to assume that another directed would have done some happy hacking. It almost reminds me of Norma Desmond's “Salome” in “Sunset Boulevard,” and how she freaks out when Joe wants to cut scenes. Kaufman obviously loves to hear his writing recited out loud, hence not so much cutting. I did read somewhere that he was planning on cutting ten minutes or so between the first preview and opening night. Considering the play was two and a half, and I had read it was going to be two forty, I suppose that's already been done. Ah well.

The acting is all okay, but none of the actors blew me away... I was barely getting gentle breezes out of them. I mean, this isn't “Mourning Becomes Electra” where everyone was hideously miscast – they're all fine, and they play their parts well. It's just not really a play with showy roles. I suppose the closest thing to scenery chewing we get is Zach Grenier's Beethoven, but I can't say I was really overly impressed.

What I did love, was the set, lighting and projection design. I was a little skeptical at first, but as the play went on, I was really quite impressed by the look of the piece.

Really, this just felt to me like one of those plays that should have been produced at some place like Playwright Horizons or NYTW, gone through it's limited run with maybe faint praise, and then been forgotten about. Kind of like that dull dull play Itamar Moses wrote about Bach that they did at NYTW a few years ago. Not that this is quite as boring as that one, but it's not *that* much better either. I'll file this one under “big disappointments.”

The Story of "The Story Of My Life"

I've been on something of a "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" kick lately, burning my way through the complete series set that I didn't open until a month ago, and has now consumed my life. And if that show has taught me nothing else, it's that just because you're dead, that doesn't mean you can't be killed again. The (dead) character Malcolm Gets plays in "The Story of My Life" is regrettably not a vampire, but I do believe that if Will Chase had driven a wooden stake through his heart in the first scene, the musical would have been much better for his trouble. Sure, it would take some 'willing suspension of disbelief' for a ghost to be killed with a stake, but if it was explained to the audience how unbearably irritating this character would become in just a short time, well I'm sure they could deal.
The basic premise of "The Story of My Life" is that this world famous author (played by Will Chase) is trying to write a eulogy for his dead bookseller best friend (played by Malcolm Gets), who haunts him because the famous author did such a crappy job writing a eulogy for the bookseller's dad, that he wants to be spared the same fate at his funeral. Oh, and the big revelation at the end (spoiler alert, spoiler alert) is that famous author's best friend inspired all of famous author's stories, and he only now realizes this now that his friend is dead and haunting him. This point is obvious basically from the second song (and is repeated over and over again is every other damn song), so that this is a big revelation after 90 minutes is indeed quite a bit annoying. And yet, as annoying as that revelation is, it is still not as annoying as Malcolm Gets' portrayal of the bookseller. I suspect that the blame lies more with Gets being miscast, than with the writing of the character. The problem is that the character of the bookseller is supposed to be this nice, likable loser. And Gets just fails miserably at this. The way he plays the part, it's like the guy never progressed past the age of five. This is fine when he's actually playing a little kid, but as Will Chase matures and eventually plays a believable adult, Gets still has this embarrassingly artificial kid persona. And so the whole time it's like he keeps poking Will Chase and saying "hey mister, hey mister, hey mister, hey mister" and it gets to the point where you just want to throw him out the window. It's just a really half-assed, dismal, completely unbelievable performance. And an even bigger disappointment, when you consider what a beautiful, adult, fully realized performance Will Chase gives. Chase, who granted did not impress me all that much in "Lennon" or "High Fidelity" and seemed a bit long in the tooth in the video cast of the final "Rent," finally lives up to his hype. It's a wonderful performance, that makes almost every song he sings (in the rather saggy final third, even he has trouble saving the show) into a thing of beauty, just as much as Gets ruins most everything he wraps his vocal chords around.
On the plus side (what? there's a plus side?) I do have to say that composer/lyricist Neil Bartram is one to keep an ear on. The music is happily tuneful, and there are more than a few songs that I would love to hear again on a cast recording. Nothing against the long contingent of composers who try (and generally fail) to follow in Sondheim's footsteps by writing not immediately melodic stuff, but it's nice every now and then to not get a headache trying to wrap one's brain around 90 minutes of dissonant chords. I look forward to hearing more of his stuff in the future.
The set is spare, but fine, and the lighting adequate. This isn't one of those stunning huge spectacles - it's an intimate, one set, two actor chamber piece, that (because off-Broadway is dead) wandered onto the Great White Way.
I should say that when the show first started - for the first ten mintues or so - I actually had high hopes for it. Things became a bit bumpier after that, what with an irritating plot device of having each scene start with a different story being pulled off of a shelf, and with... um... pretty much everything Malcolm Gets did, though as I said before Will Chase was able to save the show up to a point, after which I was grinding my teeth and looking at my watch in boredom. Still, the final song or two were admittedly kind of touching (in a kind of cheesy, sentimental, cliche way), and I did leave with a bit of a tear forming in my eye. So I guess having a good start and a good ending is a plus. In this economic climate, is anyone going to want to spent 50, let alone 110 bucks on a so-so musical? That waits to be seen, but I can't say I'm exactly holding my breath.