Wednesday, May 14, 2008

20 Great Broadway Songs of the Past 10 Years: “Oklahoma?”

How can you top a song that rhymes Jew with zoo and Oral Roberts U? I mean, honestly—Oral Roberts U? It doesn’t get any better.

“Oklahoma?” from David Yazbek’s beautiful score for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is a masterpiece of lyric, melody, and character development. Performed by Sara Gettelfinger on the OBCR (and in the cast I saw), “Oklahoma?” does exactly what a Broadway song needs to do. It’s a smashing showcase for the character Jolene Oakes, written perfectly to her personality and filled with clever rhymes and funny concepts, the idea that while she’s selling Jameson on the glories of living in Oklahoma, she’s betraying her own unpleasant personality and scaring everyone away from Oklahoma at the same time. She’s so obnoxious, in fact, we don’t feel an ounce of pity for her even though Jameson has used her cruelly.

By the way, did I also mention we also get Oklahoma paired with melanoma? It’s the perfectly unexpected word, and it ends the song on just the right hilarious note.

Yazbek’s score for the show as a whole is delightful, somehow managing to have surprising beauty in a score and story that also delights in crassness (a little too much for my taste, but that’s not the point). Following one of my favorite overtures (third behind Gypsy and Sweet Charity), we are given “Give Them What They Want,” which is a great example of the beauty of the score. It’s also worth noting that Yazbek strives here to find a balance between the traditional Broadway sound and the beat of his own rock heart. The dance arrangements for “Oklahoma?”—just one example in the score—is pretty heavy on guitar and effectively so.

Other gems on the CD include (but are certainly not limited to) Norbert Leo Butz’s “Great Big Stuff,” Sherie Rene Scott’s “Here I Am” (“These fries are French!”), “The More We Dance,” John Lithgow’s “Love Sneaks In,” plus the final three tracks in which the ending is unraveled.

But my favorite is “Oklahoma?”. It really doesn’t get any better.

the Broadway Mouth
May 14, 2008

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Prelude to 20 Great Broadway Songs of the Past 10 Years

Broadway is dying. The shows aren’t as good as they used to be. There is no Ethel Merman for today.

As Penelope Pennywise says, “I’ve heard it all before.”

It always annoys me when, on the Tonys, all the songs played for entrances and transitions are classic Broadways songs—Gershwin, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Kander and Ebb, and so on. It’s not that those aren’t great songs, but there’s a whole new generation of songwriters out there whose work will only get known by having their songs heard. It’s not 1950 anymore, and there is no Doris Day or Frank Sinatra of a current generation to put the hits of Broadway on the radio.

In celebration of the great talent of the current generation of Broadway songwriters, I’ll be highlighting twenty great Broadway songs from shows the opened on Broadway in the past ten years—from 1998-2008.

This will not be a comprehensive list because, while I do keep up with the current shows on Broadway, I have simply not heard all the scores of the past ten years. It’ll be a thorough and wide-ranging list, but it won’t cover every score of the past ten years.

That said, on with the celebration!

the Broadway Mouth
May 13, 2008

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Show Me!: That Bad Boy, Narration

Narrator: Cody tried everyone he knew. Nobody believed him. He realized that he would have to face his transformation alone. Being alone in your time of need is a terrible feeling, and Cody felt it.


The first play I ever wrote was for my high school creative writing class. In it, I used a narrator to act as glue between the parts of the story, dispensing such nuggets of wisdom as the one above. Yes, it was an intentional line of dialogue, but unnecessary nonetheless. In fact, when I taught creative writing, I saw how easily my students would use narration as crutch in playwriting and finally got to the point where I wouldn’t let them use it.

The use of narration in writing a play is a tricky thing. Sometimes, it’s unavoidable. Stage adaptations of long narratives tend to require narration to condense a 300+ page novel into a two-hour play, though it is a fine line. The first time I learned this was in watching a production of Great Expectations as adapted by Barbara Fields. The production had so much narration that I began to feel like I was having a bedtime story read to me rather than experiencing a compelling production of a great plot. There’s something wrong when the narrator tells you that Pip ran away while you are watching Pip run away.

A great example of the use of narration in a musical is Jane Eyre. In the novel, Jane tells her own story, and she does so in a way that opens up her own emotions to the audience, at times addressing them, such as in the famous, “Reader, I married him” line. The musical adaptation required the narration to help convey the breadth of the storytelling—stretching through Jane’s childhood at Gateshead, her time at Lowood School, her life at Thornfield, her return to Gateshead, her sojourn to Moor House, and her final return to Thornfield. Never is Jane required to spend great lengths addressing the audience, and when there is need for telling of events, the chorus is employed in a way that creates mood and atmosphere, communicating ideas without simply throwing them at the audience.

An example of when narration is superfluous is in the Broadway version of Jekyll and Hyde, where the narration that opens Act I and Act II could be entirely removed without affecting the plot. It was an interesting choice, considering the opening of each act in a musical is considered to be a place to grab the audience’s attention and pull them in, but the use of narration starts things out didn’t work in this case.

In reading the libretto of Big River, the weakness of the show appears to be the extensive use of narration. I’ve never seen Big River in production (a local high school was set to do it, but the school board nixed the idea), but it has entire paragraphs of Huck talking to the audience about what he’s done or is going to do. It reads as if you don’t actually see much happening. Instead, the story is being summarized and the audience is given vignettes to flesh out the most important points. The result is a show with great music holding together a weak book (Though, to be fair, adapting The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to the stage would be no easy task. As they say, there but for God, go I . . .)

The danger of narration is resorting to verbalizing a story rather than dramatizing it. One of the writer’s adages is “Show, Don’t Tell.” If the narration acts as a transition into the Show, sometimes it’s needed. But the story is being told to you—particularly when it could easily be shown to you—that’s when it gets to be too much.

the Broadway Mouth
May 10, 2008

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

The Phantom of the Marketing: A Second Look at the New Phantom Logo




There were dispelled rumors on Broadway World about this being the new logo for Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera when the image appeared at the 20th Anniversary celebration for the Broadway show.

They were dispelled a little too soon.

To me, this image looks like one of the tacky logos MTI licenses for their shows rather than something worthy of a sumptuous Broadway show. Yet, this is now being used to promote the show on tour. In fact, when I saw the logo on the website for the touring venue in my area, I wondered if this was a sign the show had gone non-Equity. I have a feeling it is just a change in the marketing.

Oddly enough, this looks like the logo often seen for the Kopit/Yeston telling of the story. It's an interesting choice for Cameron Mackintosh to make because the original logo is so instantly recognizable. McDonald's sure as heck wouldn't change their golden arches now.

Ugly or not, the show will be sure to sell, though audiences may have to wade through some confusion to figuring it out.

the Broadway Mouth
May 7, 2008

Monday, May 5, 2008

Meet Me in St. Louis, Meet Me in St. Louis, and Meet Me in St. Louis on Stage: Reflections on Razzmatazz, Heart, and the Elusiveness of Theatre

When I told my college director that my favorite show of hers was Meet Me in St. Louis, her response was, “Well, that’s very kind of you.” I don’t think anyone would disagree that the show was beautifully produced and directed, as well as superbly acted (her John Truitt—the boy next door—later auditioned for ER, and her Lon Smith has since produced one or two movies). Her sensitivity was concerning the nature of the storytelling in the show, which, like the original movie, is remarkably satisfying while not particularly plot-filled. The show was well-attended when she directed it, but for some reason, she and the cast had been unsatisfied with the final effect.

When I was supremely disappointed, however, was when I bought my Original Broadway Cast Recording of the score because it didn’t reflect the libretto of the production I had seen twice. According to Charles Wright in The TheaterMania Guide to Musical Theater Recordings, the movie was originally adapted for a regional production in the 1960s with Tootie herself, Sally Benson, writing the libretto. The Broadway production, however, had a book by Hugh Wheeler, with a hodge podge of songs from the movie (which includes songs by other composers), other Ralph Blaine and Hugh Martin versions of the score (that’s via Richard Barrios in The TheaterMania Guide to Musical Theater Recordings) and, according to the liner notes of the CD, ten new ones.

The production I saw in 1996 had a book credited to Sally Benson with the following songs:
“Meet Me in St. Louis”
“Meet Me in St. Louis” reprise
“The Boy Next Door”
“Almost”
“Skip to My Lou”
“You Are for Loving”
“How Do I Look?”
“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”
“Raving Beauty”
“Finale I—A Raving Beauty”
“The Trolley Song”
“What’s His Name?”
“If I Had an Igloo”
“Diamonds in the Starlight”
“Be Anything But a Girl”
“You are For Loving” reprise
“You and I”
“The Trolley Song” reprise
“Finale II—Meet Me in St. Louis”

The Broadway production, as preserved on the CD, has a very different song list—including songs dedicated to Banjos, Ice, and John Phillips Sousa.

By the time I was directing high schools shows and perused a copy of the libretto, the show Tams-Witmark was licensing for amateur productions was even more faithful to the movie with fewer jaunts into extraneous charm. I was very disappointed.

In a way, I think I’ve been chasing after the elusive experience I had with that first production of Meet Me in St. Louis. I had rented the movie in high school and now own the 2-Disc DVD, but the charm and warmth of that original stage production has never been recreated, largely because I haven’t been able to find the songs recreated anywhere else.

The Broadway album is a curious mix. I actually often find myself skipping through the album to the songs from the movie (and “Raving Beauty” and “You Are For Loving” from that original production I saw). Nothing would ever top hearing Judy Garland sing her songs, but Donna Kane has a lush voice with a warmth all her own. I could literally listen to “The Boy Next Door,” “Skip to My Lou,” “The Trolley Song,” and “You Are For Loving” about a hundred times in a row (and have . . . okay, we’ll just leave it at “many”). Those songs alone make this a must-have CD.

The other songs are a curious mix, many of them seeming disconnected from the characters (though honestly, perhaps I would have said the same about “If I Had an Igloo” had I not seen it in production).

Where some of the other songs fail, however, is in the polish. One thing Broadway does well is razzmatazz, that Broadway glisten and polish. It becomes difficult to translate a film like Meet Me in St. Louis to the stage because the process of enlarging both the story and the performances to fit a huge Broadway theatre means sacrificing the warmth and intimacy of the source material. It’s the Tracy vs. Tracy comparison. A Xerox of Nikki Blonsky’s performance would not translate well on a Broadway stage, and the energy and presence of Marissa Jaret Winokur’s performance would be out of place in a movie. Donna Kane, on record, was an excellent translation, but the show as a whole didn’t seem to have followed her lead.

My college director has since retired, leaving behind a legacy in her students, myself being one of them. She directed many fine shows (and the more I see, the more I realized what a rare talent she was), but my two favorites will always be Meet Me in St. Louis and Quilters, another show not recorded, another beloved experience that can never be revisited.

Curse the elusiveness of theatre!

the Broadway Mouth
May 5, 2008

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Casting Quandaries III: The Problems Created By Maria

The casting of The Sound of Music became infinitely more challenging when Julie Andrews stepped into the role of Maria for the film. It’s interesting to ponder that Mary Martin was cast in the role in the original Broadway production after playing parts like Peter Pan and Annie Oakley. Those aren’t roles you would ever imagine Julie Andrews taking on.

Since the movie, what stage production will ever be able to live down the memory of Julie Andrews in one of the most beloved movies ever made? In the last revival, Rebecca Luker and Laura Benanti were consecutively cast as everyone’s favorite postulant, casting choices that followed the film’s lead (and both are tremendously talented women). But look at the choice—you could never imagine casting either Luker or Benanti as Peter Pan or Annie Oakley.

Casting a movie can be a very different exercise from casting a stage production. Often the integrity of the role is sacrificed for celebrity by casting someone who can’t sing too well, can’t sing the role the way it was written, or is too old for the part. Casting Julie Andrews as Maria was inspired, though it fits a film’s style more than it would probably fit a stage production (particularly in the way that The Sound of Music was reconceived for film). What the film captures in a close-up with Andrews may have been difficult for the stage to have successful communicated. I never saw Mary Martin on stage, but my understanding is that her performances were full of pluck, energy, and charm. I have a feeling her Maria didn’t abandon those traits (and the show was written to play to those strengths as well).

Yet, stage productions of The Sound of Music are always caught chasing after the beauty and charm of Julie Andrews, rather than going for someone with the plucky cow-town charms of a Mary Martin.

It’s interesting to compare this to the casting of Millie Dillmount in Thoroughly Modern Millie. The original Broadway Millie was going to be Erin Dilly, a very talented and versatile actress in the Julie Andrews vein (who played Millie in the original movie), but the show’s creators realized that they needed something different. It seems to me that their final choice—Sutton Foster—has more in common with Mary Martin than she would ever have with Julie Andrews. But then again, the needs of casting for the stage are something altogether different.

So, if I were to cast a stage production of The Sound of Music, I think it would be interesting to expand my horizons in casting Maria. A great role is open to many different interpretations, but I would love to see what a Sutton Foster type would do with the role . . . if I could only escape the movie.

the Broadway Mouth
May 3, 2008

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Casting Quandaries II: What It Is, It Wouldn’t Be

As Alice says in Alice in Wonderland:
“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?”


That about sums up the casting for a couple of musicals. The more apparent one is probably Sally Bowles in Cabaret. She’s not supposed to be a spectacular performer, yet people pay big bucks to see someone who can sing. I believe it was Ken Mendelbaum who identified Susan Egan as the best Sally of the last revival because she was able to perfectly balance those two facets of the character.

Like Annie in “Casting Quandaries I,” there’s another role that’s mysteriously difficult to cast. It’s hard for me to fully comment because I don’t think I’ve seen the definitive production of the show (though I have seen several strong productions). When it comes to Charlie Brown in You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown, the temptation seems to be to take the kid you want to cast because he’s so nice and give him the role. After all, it is good old Chuck; how much stage presence do you need?

I love my Broadway revival cast recording of You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown with Anthony Rapp in the title role, a production I never got to see. It’s interesting to hear it because, though the character is . . . well, Charlie Brown . . . Rapp is still giving an endearing, strongly sung, and theatrical performance. He found a way to bring to life a wallflower, a failure, and a self-defeating character without sacrificing stage presence, warmth, and humor.

It seems to me that the best casting of Charlie Brown would be in finding one of your strongest character performers, then casting him in that role. The show is, after all, named for Charlie Brown. He shouldn’t be the least memorable character in the show (just as he was never the least memorable character in the cartoon specials).

the Broadway Mouth
May 1, 2008