Where Have All Broadway Mouth Posts Gone?

Let me start with an update.

I got my first request for a complete copy of my manuscript.

That's very exciting! As many of my readers know, I have been working on getting a novel published, which is just one of the reasons my blog has not been updated very frequently. I spent a good deal of January--July revising my novel to get it ready for publication, which was a very time-consuming task (it is, after all, 362 pages).

The process for getting a novel published is like any job hunt--it's time-consuming, requires a lot of research, and requires a lot of blood, sweat, tears, and guesswork. You start out by querying agents who might be interested in representing your work. To know whom to query, you find authors whose works are similar to yours, research their agents, then write to the agent. If you're like me, however, you have spent the majority of the past ten years reading classics by Austen and Bronte or reading theatre books. Querying Steven Suskin's agent, of course, will not be very helpful to me, so I've had to do a lot of footwork (and need to continue to do it). Unfortunately, my blog has fallen by the wayside simply because there's only so many hours in the day.

The good news is that I got a request by an agent for a full manuscript. I was incredibly discouraged, so getting this request was huge. The problem is that you send out all these query letters, and when rejections come, you don't know why. Is the letter bad? Is the synopsis weak? Is it just not the right fit for the agent? Are you missing something they want to see in the letter? Or are you an inept writer and is your book just crap? It's a little like embarking on a scavenger hunt without having any clues to guide you.

I've read that agents often get around 300 query letters a week, so there's a lot going against you. How do you stand out without being tacky or pretentious?

This first request is very encouraging, though.

As you can imagine, though, reading books to know whether to query the agents, doing research to find the agents, listening to audio books instead of Broadway cast albums takes a lot of work and has somewhat disconnected me from Broadway. It's a choice I have had to make if I am going to get this novel published!

The other event to disconnect me from my blog was a family member with rheumatoid arthritis. Her health crashed this summer to the point where she could hardly walk, let alone walk the dog, change the dog water, wash dishes, and so on. I spent most of the summer helping her out, and my blog had to be sacrificed.

So . . . Thank you for not giving up on me! My hope is to return to studying and writing about Broadway as soon as I can. I recently saw Little House on the Prairie for a second time, and to be so close to a musical on stage made me feel alive again.

Sherman Brothers Celebration I

In the wake of seeing the tour of Mary Poppins, I thought I would share favorite songs from three of my favorite Sherman Brothers scores.


“Are We Dancing”

Here we have John Davidson wooing a beautiful young Lesley Ann Warren in Mary Poppins follow-up The Happiest Millionaire. This is a beautiful waltz and a beautiful love song.




“West of the Wide Missouri”

Here we have a song with lyrics disconnected from the events at hand, but look how brilliantly it’s used to develop relationships through choreography. In context, the choreographed banter between lovers John Davidson’s Joe Carder and Lesley Ann Warren’s Alice Bower is a ton of fun. Look for Buddy Ebsen and former Mame Janet Blair (as well as a young Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell). This is from another Mary Poppins follow-up, The One and Only Genuine, Original, Family Band.



“Eglantine”

Here’s the song “Eglantine” from Bedknobs and Broomsticks. It’s not flashy or exciting; it’s just a simple, catchy melody with simple, fitting lyrics that pleasantly gets stuck in my head from time to time.



The Broadway Mouth
October 6, 2009

Almost Practically Perfect

The Mary Poppins tour is one of the few shows that came through town where a lot of people I know attended. I know people who want to see The Lion King or Wicked and aren’t able to get tickets, but here, they had the magic blending of the desire to pay the money to see the show and the availability of seats for it to happen. And the one thing each of these people who saw it had in common was that they all loved it.

I was one of them.

Of all the Disney stage shows that originated as movies, Mary Poppins is the first show to feel authentic to the stage, not dependant upon gimmicks (the video projections of Tarzan), awkward visuals (Timon and the waterfall in The Lion King), or incongruities (a teapot the size of Beth Fowler in Beauty and the Beast). Thankfully, the creators don’t attempt to replicate all the special effects of the movie—let’s hope Disney continues down this route.

And that is the strength of Mary Poppins. I had already heard that the movie differed from the original books—and the movie is fantastic—but it seems right for the stage show to return to those roots, particularly if the movie cannot be replicated. On stage, the characters are deeper, more human. The Banks family of the original movie is a Disney creation of the era, the Banks family of the stage is rooted more firmly in real life.

The biggest strength of the production—the biggest strength of any production—is that cast. God bless Disney and Cameron Mackintosh for sending Ashley Brown and Gavin Lee out on tour! They spear-headed a marvelous group of actors.

Ashley Brown imbues Mary Poppins with humor and a sauciness that differs from the Julie Andrews interpretation, which is more than fitting since stage Mary is written more than just a little differently from movie Mary. My favorite moment of the whole show is when Ashley Brown tells Mr. Banks that she doesn’t explain anything with a flirty wink that leaves him speechless.

Gavin Lee is a great Bert filled with charisma and stage presence. Other highlights of the cast include Ellen Harvey as a delectable and hilarious Miss Andrew who stops the show twice with crazy vibrato. Megan Osterhaus also shines as a prettily voiced but uncertain Mrs. Banks. The two children—Aida Neitenbach and Christopher Flaim—were wonderful.

Upon reflection, the weakest link in the show—which I am, by far, not the first one to acknowledge—are the new songs by George Stiles and Anthony Drewe. Within the show, they are very fitting and appropriate. The songs do what they should, and in that respect, they are delightful. At the same time, the Sherman Brothers have a knack with melding melody with clever and melodic lyrics that Stiles and Drewe don’t have. The Original London Cast recording, for example, doesn’t withstand multiple hearings in the same way many other recent scores do—Legally Blonde, The Drowsy Chaperone, or The Wedding Singer, for example. The best songs in the show are undoubtedly the ones that remain un-rewritten from the movie (and “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”). Stiles and Drewe do a nice job of zapping the spark from “Jolly Holliday” and “Step in Time,” though it was important that they alter the songs to fit their new purpose.

The other weak link in the show is the choreography by Matthew Bourne and Stephen Mear. “Step in Time” is wonderful, and the spelling in “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” is a good, but songs like “Jolly Holliday” never excite (wouldn’t it be fun to think of what Susan Stroman or Kathleen Marshall might have done with them?).

The sets and costumes are by Bob Crowley, who always does such beautiful work.

In a separate note, I think it’s important to acknowledge that Mary Poppins seems to be part of the increasing trend over the past few years to get lazy on hiding the backstage. Though I paid full price, I saw several performers standing in the wings waiting for their entrance, saw a stage hand behind one of the sets during one scene, saw Mary grabbing the kite and waiting for her big entrance in Act 2, and in getting Bert ready for his specialty in “Step in Time,” the stage hands were all but on stage preparing him. Perhaps some of the Disney magic needs a little help from smoke and mirrors to mask the backstage.

Those criticisms aside, Mary Poppins is a delightful show, tons of fun, and left an audience thrilled and moved.

The Broadway Mouth
October 3, 2009

Fantasia as Miss Celie

Here's sweetie Fantasia talking about her time as Celie (with footage from The Color Purple):

Broadway Mathematician Style

It was a surefire hit. Dolly Parton. Allison Janney. Joe Mantello. An adaptation of a well-known movie. It even had a music video for one of the songs.

Oh, wait. I got that wrong. It should be: Elton John. Anne Rice. A title everyone would know.

Shoot! I got it wrong again. Boublil and Schonberg. Irish dance. Irish culture. The producers of Riverdance. Big sets.

Okay, maybe I mean them all. And Phil Collins. And an adaptation of a beloved Disney movie. And Jason Robert Brown. A unique show concept. The music of the Beach Boys. Johnny Cash. Elvis. Christina Applegate. Adaptation of a John Waters movie. A unique cast of four.

The list goes on and on and on. And looking at the list of titles—9 to 5, Lestat, The Pirate Queen, Tarzan, 13, Good Vibrations, Ring of Fire, All Shook Up, Sweet Charity, Cry-Baby, and Glory Days—one thing is clear. Broadway is not a place for cookie-cutter anything. In Hollywood, producers rip things off all the time. If Transformers is a big hit, tap into another popular 80s toy and make G.I. Joe. If The Wedding Crashers is a hit, make Knocked Up and a host of other “adult, R-rated movies.” If Beauty and the Beast is a hit, make Thumbelina, The Swan Princess, and Anastasia. But Hollywood can get away with it; they produce a great deal more movies than plays or musicals ever appear on Broadway. Statistically, they have a better chance of making money off bad ideas.

If a producer is looking for a surefire hit, the only guarantee is to find a show that is truly entertaining (and even that isn’t a guarantee). If Dolly Parton, Allison Janney, and the name 9 to 5 can’t be a hit on genetics alone, then no show can. Each of those flops—and no doubt they were passion projects for some producer—didn’t work, even though they all fit the mould of some other success. You can just see investors (and maybe producers) thinking Cry-Baby would be the next Hairspray, that Good Vibrations and cousins would be the next Mamma Mia, that no one would miss out on Hollywood starlet Christina Applegate in a revival of Sweet Charity.

So, if I was a producer, I would clear away my concerns about a musical being marketable, worries about finding a star name who won’t screw things up too much, trying to find a recognizable title, or trying to find that unique, stand-out-from the crowd Purple Cow concept. Find something that’s strong and make it stronger. Make it entertaining.

To paraphrase Alan Jay Lerner—In the end, all anyone cares about is if it’s good.

the Broadway Mouth
July 30, 2009

Like, Totally Baby Einstein: Broadway Edition

My 3 ½ year-old niece gets carsick. As evidence, she’s gotten sick in my car twice. Recently, I was driving her about two hours from home to a family wedding party. She slept for the first hour, but when she woke up, it was a race against time. My dad and I tried our best to distract her, but when she put her hand up to her mouth, it was a sure sign it was time to stop the car. Three times.

I had a CD of Disney songs in the car, and in an effort to distract her from her pains so we could actually get to the party, I put on her favorite, “Part of Your World” from the movie The Little Mermaid. And when the next song would start, she’s day, “I wanna hear Mermaid again.” I love “Part of Your World” and am, as my dad calls me, the overkill king, but by the end of the trip, even I was a little tired of it.

The next week, I was babysitting my niece on a night when I had a birthday party to go to on a farm about an hour away.

Gulp. I really wanted to walk away that night still loving “Part of Your World.”

I put in my Legally Blonde OBCR. Let me tell you, Legally Blonde soothes the savage stomach. On the way there, she immediately latched onto “Omigod You Guys.” It started with Bruiser barking. She loved barking along with the dog, but after three listens, I could hear her singing along to parts of the song. I skipped ahead to another up-tempo gem, “What You Want,” and because of the repetitive title phrase, even then, she was singing along until she fell asleep.

After the party—a night filled with piglets, goats, a gazillion dogs, and fireworks—we were in the car, ready to head home. She was tired. When she gets tired, she starts to mumble, so I knew she’d be out cold for the ride home. Still, I asked her, “Should we turn on some music?”

She mumbled softly from the backseat, “Bzosmd bdhof “Omigod” dmfn ajdhd.”

And she sang along until she fell asleep. Oh my God, you guys.

the Broadway Mouth
July 23, 2009

From the Mouth of Betty Buckley: A Progress Report

There’s a story Betty Buckley tells in the bonus features of Rick McKay’s documentary Broadway: The Golden Age that is also told in Myrna Katz Frommer and Harvey Frommer’s oral history It Happened on Broadway. In the story, Buckley is auditioning for Cats (after having been in Hollywood for the television series Eight is Enough), and during a callback, director Trevor Nunn asks her to sing “Memory” three times, directing her to make her character more and more suicidal until Buckley states that her “insides were out.” She finally pulls Nunn aside and informs him, “There are a few women who could do this role as well as I can, but nobody can do it better. And it’s my turn.”

In telling her story in It Happened on Broadway, however, she includes the detail that:

I was in my early thirties, and you know when you’re in your early thirties, you think your life is over.

I’m 32. It feels like my life is over. It’s awkward to be aspiring to anything other than a wife, four kids, and a 401K at the age of 32. I was aspiring to be a published and produced writer in my 20s, and by 32, I was to have arrived, to have had my “this is my now” moment.

Instead, I’m at the state where I’m supposed to throw in the towel, to pat myself on the back for a good effort, and to have moved on. But I can’t. I want to want to, but I can’t.

And that brings me to my novel.

As my readers are aware, I revived older columns for several months while I focused on revising a novel I had originally written five years ago in my evenings when I was substitute teaching. And I’m happy to report that things are progressing well. Between January and May, I read all 356 pages of my novel three times and made revisions ranging from minute word changes to overhauling characters.

I thought I was done and ready to start courting agents, but I decided to ask a few people to read it first (which is not to say that no one had read it prior). So far, one friend has read it since, and I’m now on Revision #4, incorporating her observations.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I’m working on writing a smasheroo query letter, which is the magic key to getting an agent to read your work. I’m learning from my past mistakes by taking it slow and steady. When I have time, I’m also researching agents and the publishing industry to make sure I’m targeting my novel perfectly and doing things the right way.

Yet, I can’t help but remember that I’ve been on this journey before. It’s so disheartening to fall in love with a project and characters, only to see them come to nothing. Yes, some of those projects in the past, looking back, were prematurely born, and some of them simply miscarried because there was no one there to read them and, because of my lack of connections, there was no avenue to do anything with them. But I still can’t help but look back fondly and wish those characters could someday come to life to someone other than me.

I recently picked up the OBCR to A Class Act and talk about disheartening. Was there anyone as dedicated as Ed Kleban? I mean, that man wrote and wrote and wrote. He also had the connections—after all, he had a mega-hit on Broadway once. Actor Lonny Price’s desperation as Kleban in the “Light on My Feet” reprise is heart-wrenching. It’s heart-wrenching because I know what it’s like to work so hard but to always fall so short.

I have a friend who always reminds me that “The ones who succeed are the ones who fail the most.”

I recently saw the steroids documentary Bigger, Stronger, Faster, and two stories in there particularly spoke to me. One was of a 50-something body builder living in his van in order to have time to lift weights, to reach the glory of being able to lift more than anyone else. It makes him happy. Living in a van to face constant discontent in a lifetime of extending but never reaching makes him happy. Another story was the director’s brother, a man in his mid-thirties with a wife who couldn’t stop chasing his dream of becoming a professional wrestler, still holding onto the dream in the face of multiple rejections. I looked at him and thought, “You’re too old. Move on to something else.” But to him, it was within his grasp.

The ones who succeed are the ones who fail the most. But I can’t help but wonder if there are millions of people out there who try the most but still fail, people who we just never hear about because eating pavement doesn’t make for a great A&E Biography.

But Betty Buckley gives us hope! She interprets that:

After all those years of paying dues and learning and dedication, it was my turn. Eight is Enough had built my muscles, helped make me so strong, so fierce in my commitment. Without the training of Eight is Enough and without studying voice for thirteen years, I wouldn’t have had the strength to undertake the pressure presented by Cats . . . I was now thirty-five years old; it had taken me twenty-two years to develop into the artist I had known I would become.

But this novel is the last stop on this journey for me, the last stop before taking another route. I must make it as good as I possibly can, then pursue publication unrelentingly. I have grown as a writer and creator—all these failed experiments (namely another unpublished novel, two musicals without music, two sitcom pilots, a television drama pilot, an unfinished movie script, several television spec scripts) have prepared me to write this project at a level I was incapable of reaching two years ago.

But I need to start making some money with my energy. I am reaching my breaking point of being the struggling artist, the intensely frustrating life of working very hard on my writing, counting my pennies and hoping for success, daily regretting extraordinarily bad choices from my youth (deciding to become a teacher, realizing I had gone severely into debt for a degree doing a job I didn’t want, among others—wait for the memoir). I spent my twenties working like a dog as a teacher, just making ends meet. Now I’m working a reasonable number of hours at work and writing a lot in my off time. Now it’s time for me to see some fruit for my labor.

So what is the other route?—pursuing my MBA. I really want my MFA from USC in film production, but unless I win the lottery (or play the lottery, for that matter), that’s not going to happen. I have no desire to get an MBA just to leave my wonderful current job to pursue a position in a soul-sucking, money-hungry corporation. Instead, I would use the knowledge I would gain from an MBA as an entrée into the creative world (possibly producing an independent film). I figure that I seem to excel at pretty much everything I try (within my personality limitations, of course) as long as I have mentorship and training, so I have a fair chance of making it. If anyone has any insights from their experiences, I’d love to know!

But first, back to the novel.

the Broadway Mouth
July 14, 2009