It's a sad coincidence that three Best New Musical Tony-winners happened to post their closing notices within such a short distance of each other. Some people have used this happening to point to a weak economy, but I don't think the ending of these shows is so complicated. They had good runs, and their time has simply come.
Hairspray has been on its last legs for a few years, as evidenced by the casting of George Wendt, Lance Bass, Ashley Parker Angel, and a number of other "stars." The fact that it's ending at the same time as other shows, I wouldn't read too much into that. It was winding down. It's time has come.
Spamalot has been very successful and has toured successfully, stopping in my city twice. It has never been a favorite of the Broadway base, and its producers' dependency on stunt casting--Clay Aiken, Drew Lachey--started long before this recent economic crisis. It never had the heart of a Hairspray or the pizazz of Chicago, so it's not a surprise that it's not running forever. Comedies do close earlier for a reason; it's not a show that cries for multiple viewings at $100 a pop.
Spring Awakening was never destined for a long run. It's simply not commercial enough. As an adult, when I think of shows I'd like to see, the teen sex show doesn't appear on my list. Even as a person who loves musicals with intellectual content--like Parade or Marie Christine--a show about teenagers' sex drives doesn't strike me as deep. I can see why kids would like it, and I don't mean to undervalue its beautiful score or book, but I don't think it ever had the legs to run long. Again, before this "economic crisis," the show was showing signs of fatigue at the box office.
As Eva Person says (at least in the movie of Evita), "You had a good run. I'm sure he enjoyed you." The fact that these shows are all ending at the "All ashore who's going ashore" time of early January is a sign that they had a good run, and their time has come. It's not as if they are closing in July or two weeks before the Tonys. Most importantly, they all turned a profit and have either had successful tours or are embarking on one.
the Broadway Mouth
October 27, 2008
Showing posts with label Hairspray. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hairspray. Show all posts
Monday, October 27, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
20 Great Broadway Songs of the Past 10 Years: “You Can’t Stop the Beat”
“Oklahoma!”
“Sit Down, You’re Rocking the Boat”
“Hello, Dolly!”
“You Can’t Stop the Beat”
In a very short time, “You Can’t Stop the Beat” has become one of the best-known Broadway songs of all time, right along with the other songs in above the list. In our time, that’s a pretty spectacular feat.
And it’s not without reason. It is one of the best endings that a Broadway show ever had, a 12 o’clock number in a show that never needs to wake the audience up. Instead of injecting energy as the old 11 o’clock numbers did, “You Can’t Stop the Beat” sends the audience out pumped with energy and the excitement of a great night in the theatre.
It also helps that it’s a topper on a great evening of music. Critics can whine about Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman’s use of the pop vernacular, but the masses have spoken loudly for the music of Hairspray, first turning the Broadway show into a hit of Ednaian proportions and then falling in love with the movie in droves—first in the theatres then on DVD. It’s easy to single out “You Can’t Stop the Beat” because it’s energetic and exciting, but everyone reading this already remembers all the other greats in the score—“Good Morning Baltimore,” “The Nicest Kids in Town,” “Welcome to the 60s,” and a bunch of others.
the Broadway Mouth
May 20, 2008
“Sit Down, You’re Rocking the Boat”
“Hello, Dolly!”
“You Can’t Stop the Beat”
In a very short time, “You Can’t Stop the Beat” has become one of the best-known Broadway songs of all time, right along with the other songs in above the list. In our time, that’s a pretty spectacular feat.
And it’s not without reason. It is one of the best endings that a Broadway show ever had, a 12 o’clock number in a show that never needs to wake the audience up. Instead of injecting energy as the old 11 o’clock numbers did, “You Can’t Stop the Beat” sends the audience out pumped with energy and the excitement of a great night in the theatre.
It also helps that it’s a topper on a great evening of music. Critics can whine about Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman’s use of the pop vernacular, but the masses have spoken loudly for the music of Hairspray, first turning the Broadway show into a hit of Ednaian proportions and then falling in love with the movie in droves—first in the theatres then on DVD. It’s easy to single out “You Can’t Stop the Beat” because it’s energetic and exciting, but everyone reading this already remembers all the other greats in the score—“Good Morning Baltimore,” “The Nicest Kids in Town,” “Welcome to the 60s,” and a bunch of others.
the Broadway Mouth
May 20, 2008
Friday, December 28, 2007
Broadway Documentaries: Feature Film Bonus Feature Bonanzas
Hairspray Shake and Shimmy Edition
As part of the 2-Disc DVD edition, we get a chance to explore the roots of the musical Hairspray, including the hit Broadway show. The original producers take part is explaining how the Broadway production came to be. Interestingly, lead producer Margo Lion talks about searching for a youth-friendly property, not necessarily a movie-based property, when she stumbled upon the film of Hairspray. She and the other producers do take us through their journey of workshops, with some additional insights from librettists Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan. The only cast member to share experiences, though, is Marissa Jaret Winokur, who addresses not only her battle with cancer but also her tortured history with the show. She was the first Tracy the creators saw, and as she plugged on through the workshop process, she kept being forewarned that she would not be their final choice to open the show. Sadly, the doc contains no clips from the show, only still pictures, though there is a sampling of Nathan Lane singing as Wilbur Turnblad.
Honestly, it’s not a particularly insightful detailing of the creation of the Broadway show, but for someone who eats up that kind of information, I am still glad to have doled out the extra money for the 2-Disc edition just to have it.
Rent 2-Disc Special Edition
Okay, so I’m not really a Renthead. It’s not that I don’t greatly admire the late great Jonathon Larson’s work; it’s just one of those cases where the material, as a whole, doesn’t resonate with my experiences.
For me, though, the purchase of the 2-Disc edition of the movie was a must because of No Day But Today, the excellent doc on not only the making of the Broadway show but also on Jonathon Larson’s life, drawing on the remembrances of close friends as well as family members. As one who aspires to be produced on Broadway (and elsewhere), I found great inspiration in Larson’s life story, which is not only filled with a thriving in the joy of lack but also a love for life and art, the pain of learning the hard way, and the jubilation of triumph. I also found inspiration in the mechanics of Jonathon Larson’s success, the knowledge of what he had to do to get where he got.
After establishing many of the sources of inspiration for the events and characters of Rent, the documentary (which runs almost two hours) details the workshop and off-Broadway production of the show, including the process of casting and the pain of collaboration. It walks us through Jonathon Larson’s unexpected death as well as those days after in which the cast and creative team found a way to move on, as well as the show’s triumphant opening on Broadway. In fact, not even a full thirty minutes of the doc is dedicated to the film version. Best of all, the producers of No Day But Today call on original cast members Daphne Rubin-Vega and Fredi Walker to share their experiences in the process.
We’ve had a string of fantastic documentaries in recent years—Broadway: The Golden Age, Broadway: The American Musical, and Show Business: The Road to Broadway—and Rent’s No Day But Today belongs right up there with it.
The Phantom of the Opera 2-Disc Special Edition
Count me as one of those who really enjoyed the film adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera, a show I enjoyed on stage but was more blown away by the movie. I probably never would have bought the DVD, though, because I find it pretty much impossible to set aside the chunk of time needed to watch it all. However, I couldn’t pass it up when I heard about Behind the Mask: The Story of The Phantom of the Opera documentary on the 2-Disc edition.
If Behind the Mask is less interesting than No Day But Today it’s because The Phantom of the Opera is a less interesting show than Rent without the seasoning of the passion and struggles of a starving artist in the story of Jonathan Larson. Still, Behind the Mask is an interesting snapshot into the creative mind of one of the most successful and beloved theatrical composers of our time.
Running just over an hour, Behind the Mask follows Andrew Lloyd Webber’s show from the idea to the final production, peppered with many scenes from the stage show. As one might expect in such a thorough documentary, it covers the hiring on of key creative personnel, including interviews with them about their experiences. Hal Prince shows up for the documentary, as do lyricists Richard Stilgoe and Charles Hart. Included in the story is the show’s premiere at Sydmonton, Webber’s country estate where he annually premieres shows and songs. At one early presentation of The Phantom of the Opera, the Phantom was played by Colm Wilkinson, who appears here in footage from that 1985 performance (as does original Raoul Steve Barton in a later Sydmonton performance).
There’s the inclusion of the story of original lyricist Richard Stilgoe and “replacement” Charles Hart, with them discussing how they view their work today. Of interest is the inclusion of original Phantom Steve Harley (whose biggest regret in leaving the show was not being able to work with Hal Prince, whom he says changed his life).
The doc is loaded with clips from the stage production as well as the original music videos that were used to promote the show in London. We even get the scene from the stage show in which Christine’s voice gets replaced by a pre-recorded track, a switch which is identifiable only if you know about its use in advance. Choreographer Gillian Lynne also explains her choices in “Masquerade” which help cover up the use of dummies on the stage (which I had not known about until seeing this doc, and I’m not alone—according to Hal Prince, George Abbott didn’t figure it out either). We even get to see the dummies up close to see how they work. Also of interest is the inclusion of some photos of the process used in creating the look of the Phantom.
I guess if I despised The Phantom of the Opera (as some theatre folk do), I wouldn’t enjoy the documentary, and while there are no great revelations overall, not a whole lot that a creator myself can take away for future reference; it is still a pleasant and worthwhile story of the creation of the longest-running show on Broadway.
the Broadway Mouth
December 28, 2007
P.S. For info on the Bombay Dreams documentary and a musical-themed bonus feature on The Wedding Singer, click on "Broadway documentaries" below.
As part of the 2-Disc DVD edition, we get a chance to explore the roots of the musical Hairspray, including the hit Broadway show. The original producers take part is explaining how the Broadway production came to be. Interestingly, lead producer Margo Lion talks about searching for a youth-friendly property, not necessarily a movie-based property, when she stumbled upon the film of Hairspray. She and the other producers do take us through their journey of workshops, with some additional insights from librettists Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan. The only cast member to share experiences, though, is Marissa Jaret Winokur, who addresses not only her battle with cancer but also her tortured history with the show. She was the first Tracy the creators saw, and as she plugged on through the workshop process, she kept being forewarned that she would not be their final choice to open the show. Sadly, the doc contains no clips from the show, only still pictures, though there is a sampling of Nathan Lane singing as Wilbur Turnblad.
Honestly, it’s not a particularly insightful detailing of the creation of the Broadway show, but for someone who eats up that kind of information, I am still glad to have doled out the extra money for the 2-Disc edition just to have it.
Rent 2-Disc Special Edition
Okay, so I’m not really a Renthead. It’s not that I don’t greatly admire the late great Jonathon Larson’s work; it’s just one of those cases where the material, as a whole, doesn’t resonate with my experiences.
For me, though, the purchase of the 2-Disc edition of the movie was a must because of No Day But Today, the excellent doc on not only the making of the Broadway show but also on Jonathon Larson’s life, drawing on the remembrances of close friends as well as family members. As one who aspires to be produced on Broadway (and elsewhere), I found great inspiration in Larson’s life story, which is not only filled with a thriving in the joy of lack but also a love for life and art, the pain of learning the hard way, and the jubilation of triumph. I also found inspiration in the mechanics of Jonathon Larson’s success, the knowledge of what he had to do to get where he got.
After establishing many of the sources of inspiration for the events and characters of Rent, the documentary (which runs almost two hours) details the workshop and off-Broadway production of the show, including the process of casting and the pain of collaboration. It walks us through Jonathon Larson’s unexpected death as well as those days after in which the cast and creative team found a way to move on, as well as the show’s triumphant opening on Broadway. In fact, not even a full thirty minutes of the doc is dedicated to the film version. Best of all, the producers of No Day But Today call on original cast members Daphne Rubin-Vega and Fredi Walker to share their experiences in the process.
We’ve had a string of fantastic documentaries in recent years—Broadway: The Golden Age, Broadway: The American Musical, and Show Business: The Road to Broadway—and Rent’s No Day But Today belongs right up there with it.
The Phantom of the Opera 2-Disc Special Edition
Count me as one of those who really enjoyed the film adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera, a show I enjoyed on stage but was more blown away by the movie. I probably never would have bought the DVD, though, because I find it pretty much impossible to set aside the chunk of time needed to watch it all. However, I couldn’t pass it up when I heard about Behind the Mask: The Story of The Phantom of the Opera documentary on the 2-Disc edition.
If Behind the Mask is less interesting than No Day But Today it’s because The Phantom of the Opera is a less interesting show than Rent without the seasoning of the passion and struggles of a starving artist in the story of Jonathan Larson. Still, Behind the Mask is an interesting snapshot into the creative mind of one of the most successful and beloved theatrical composers of our time.
Running just over an hour, Behind the Mask follows Andrew Lloyd Webber’s show from the idea to the final production, peppered with many scenes from the stage show. As one might expect in such a thorough documentary, it covers the hiring on of key creative personnel, including interviews with them about their experiences. Hal Prince shows up for the documentary, as do lyricists Richard Stilgoe and Charles Hart. Included in the story is the show’s premiere at Sydmonton, Webber’s country estate where he annually premieres shows and songs. At one early presentation of The Phantom of the Opera, the Phantom was played by Colm Wilkinson, who appears here in footage from that 1985 performance (as does original Raoul Steve Barton in a later Sydmonton performance).
There’s the inclusion of the story of original lyricist Richard Stilgoe and “replacement” Charles Hart, with them discussing how they view their work today. Of interest is the inclusion of original Phantom Steve Harley (whose biggest regret in leaving the show was not being able to work with Hal Prince, whom he says changed his life).
The doc is loaded with clips from the stage production as well as the original music videos that were used to promote the show in London. We even get the scene from the stage show in which Christine’s voice gets replaced by a pre-recorded track, a switch which is identifiable only if you know about its use in advance. Choreographer Gillian Lynne also explains her choices in “Masquerade” which help cover up the use of dummies on the stage (which I had not known about until seeing this doc, and I’m not alone—according to Hal Prince, George Abbott didn’t figure it out either). We even get to see the dummies up close to see how they work. Also of interest is the inclusion of some photos of the process used in creating the look of the Phantom.
I guess if I despised The Phantom of the Opera (as some theatre folk do), I wouldn’t enjoy the documentary, and while there are no great revelations overall, not a whole lot that a creator myself can take away for future reference; it is still a pleasant and worthwhile story of the creation of the longest-running show on Broadway.
the Broadway Mouth
December 28, 2007
P.S. For info on the Bombay Dreams documentary and a musical-themed bonus feature on The Wedding Singer, click on "Broadway documentaries" below.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Musings on Hairspray Movie and Hairspray Stage
So onto a subject from left field, a replay of an episode from The View at the end of summer got me thinking. It was from the pre-release of Hairspray media blitz with guests John Travolta and Queen Latifah.
A Man in Sheep’s Clothing
In it, John Travolta was asked why his character was played by a man in woman’s clothing. His answer was that this is basically the way the conceit of the show because of the original film.
I beg to differ. Now, I’ve never seen the original film. I’ve seen Hairspray on stage twice and the musical movie in theaters several times . . . I guess that’s as many versions as I need to be familiar with before I die. But the reason for this creative bit of casting was always more than a gimmick to me. It was watching Bruce Vilanch during “You’re Timeless to Me” on tour that I got it.
When I brought my mom to the movie, she turned to me and said of Edna Turnblad, “That is the ugliest woman I’ve ever seen.”
That’s the point. Yay, she got it. She makes me so proud.
The story is about accepting people for who they are, no matter what they look like—skin color, weight, whatever. Edna Turnblad is not only a hefty hideaway bargain hunter, she’s extremely, ah, funny looking. But her husband worships the ground she walks on. After all these years—despite the weight gain—he’s still madly in love with her.
And once we get a chance to meet her, we love Edna too. She melts our hearts, no matter what she looks like, and in the end, she learns to love and embrace herself as well.
And that’s the point. If the Von Tussles ever gave Tracy a chance, they’d adore her. But they immediately dismiss her because of her size. We get the chance to know and adore Edna Turnblad as well. The conceit of a man playing the part fits into the development of the theme. It is far more than a gimmick.
Vlema vs. Velma
In the stage version, I really liked that the Von Tussles came around at the end and learned to shake their fanny muscles. It is a tad out of left field, but the characters are more childish and uninformed on stage, so you can easily forgive them when they see the light and learn that you really can’t stop the beat. It seems very fitting.
In the movie, however, that would have been an uneasy transition. Amber Von Tussle basically comes to realize that she is the one in the wrong, seen through her eyes in the final scene. Velma in the movie, though, is far too nasty to allow for such a turnaround. I think there are two key reasons for this.
First of all, it is the writing. Velma does more evil in the movie. When she slams Edna in the restaurant with that comment on Edna’s weight, she’s really cruel. Not only is it rude, it deeply hurts Edna, who has come so far in accepting how she looks since her weight gain. After all, this is a woman who has not come out of her house for many years in fear of her weight.
Velma goes as far as to break up Tracy’s family by attempting to seduce Wilbur. Again, unlike the movie, this is more than just trying to defend her understanding of life, this is wickedness. It’s believable that Movie Velma would attempt this, but it is still wicked. So because these two scenes are added in the movie, Velma crosses the line too far to go back by the end of the movie.
Another large factor is that Michelle Pfeiffer is not a character actress. What this means is that Velma becomes a more calculated cruel. Stage Velma is usually played by a character actress who says and does cruel things but always couched by a tinge of caricature, while Movie Velma isn’t so caricatured, if at all. Stage Velma is comparable to, say, Yzma from The Emperor’s New Groove, while Movie Velma you could imagine shouting slurs at the Little Rock Nine as they tried to go to school.
We hope—and have to expect—that many of those people shouting at the Little Rock Nine have since seen the light, but they probably didn’t do so after a well-written song on the subject.
Pop!
David Edelstein, in his commentary on CBS Sunday Morning (in which he also implied he was about the only straight man who likes musicals . . . which makes me mad), criticized the film’s “pop” music.
I’ve said this before, but I’ll just say it again. People criticize Hairspray for having pop music, but it is no more pop than the ragtime tunes in Ragtime or the flapper stylings of Jeanine Tesori’s Thoroughly Modern Millie. At one point, songs in these styles were popular, but they are not pop anymore. There’s nothing any more generic about 60’s pop than there is about 00’s pop or 20’s pop.
Furthermore, like those other shows, Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman’s music for Hairspray is written in the musical vernacular of the characters. Tracy Turnblad is a typical teenage girl in the early 1960s—she’s not going to be belting out “Good Morning Baltimore” like Rodgers and Hammerstein. Just because we all like theatre doesn’t mean that that is the musical vernacular of every character to appear on a Broadway stage.
It’s easy to see Shaiman and Wittman’s skill in doing this because the songs performed primarily by adults are not in the pop vernacular. Velma Von Tussle’s “(The Legend of) Miss Baltimore Crabs,” while orchestrated to fit in with the other songs, is definitely not in the same vein as the songs performed by the teens. Similarly, “The Big Dollhouse,” while tons of fun, is more of a traditional theatre song. “(You’re) Timeless to Me” and “I Know Where I’ve Been” are also fitting the older characters singing them.
the Broadway Mouth
September 29, 2007
A Man in Sheep’s Clothing
In it, John Travolta was asked why his character was played by a man in woman’s clothing. His answer was that this is basically the way the conceit of the show because of the original film.
I beg to differ. Now, I’ve never seen the original film. I’ve seen Hairspray on stage twice and the musical movie in theaters several times . . . I guess that’s as many versions as I need to be familiar with before I die. But the reason for this creative bit of casting was always more than a gimmick to me. It was watching Bruce Vilanch during “You’re Timeless to Me” on tour that I got it.
When I brought my mom to the movie, she turned to me and said of Edna Turnblad, “That is the ugliest woman I’ve ever seen.”
That’s the point. Yay, she got it. She makes me so proud.
The story is about accepting people for who they are, no matter what they look like—skin color, weight, whatever. Edna Turnblad is not only a hefty hideaway bargain hunter, she’s extremely, ah, funny looking. But her husband worships the ground she walks on. After all these years—despite the weight gain—he’s still madly in love with her.
And once we get a chance to meet her, we love Edna too. She melts our hearts, no matter what she looks like, and in the end, she learns to love and embrace herself as well.
And that’s the point. If the Von Tussles ever gave Tracy a chance, they’d adore her. But they immediately dismiss her because of her size. We get the chance to know and adore Edna Turnblad as well. The conceit of a man playing the part fits into the development of the theme. It is far more than a gimmick.
Vlema vs. Velma
In the stage version, I really liked that the Von Tussles came around at the end and learned to shake their fanny muscles. It is a tad out of left field, but the characters are more childish and uninformed on stage, so you can easily forgive them when they see the light and learn that you really can’t stop the beat. It seems very fitting.
In the movie, however, that would have been an uneasy transition. Amber Von Tussle basically comes to realize that she is the one in the wrong, seen through her eyes in the final scene. Velma in the movie, though, is far too nasty to allow for such a turnaround. I think there are two key reasons for this.
First of all, it is the writing. Velma does more evil in the movie. When she slams Edna in the restaurant with that comment on Edna’s weight, she’s really cruel. Not only is it rude, it deeply hurts Edna, who has come so far in accepting how she looks since her weight gain. After all, this is a woman who has not come out of her house for many years in fear of her weight.
Velma goes as far as to break up Tracy’s family by attempting to seduce Wilbur. Again, unlike the movie, this is more than just trying to defend her understanding of life, this is wickedness. It’s believable that Movie Velma would attempt this, but it is still wicked. So because these two scenes are added in the movie, Velma crosses the line too far to go back by the end of the movie.
Another large factor is that Michelle Pfeiffer is not a character actress. What this means is that Velma becomes a more calculated cruel. Stage Velma is usually played by a character actress who says and does cruel things but always couched by a tinge of caricature, while Movie Velma isn’t so caricatured, if at all. Stage Velma is comparable to, say, Yzma from The Emperor’s New Groove, while Movie Velma you could imagine shouting slurs at the Little Rock Nine as they tried to go to school.
We hope—and have to expect—that many of those people shouting at the Little Rock Nine have since seen the light, but they probably didn’t do so after a well-written song on the subject.
Pop!
David Edelstein, in his commentary on CBS Sunday Morning (in which he also implied he was about the only straight man who likes musicals . . . which makes me mad), criticized the film’s “pop” music.
I’ve said this before, but I’ll just say it again. People criticize Hairspray for having pop music, but it is no more pop than the ragtime tunes in Ragtime or the flapper stylings of Jeanine Tesori’s Thoroughly Modern Millie. At one point, songs in these styles were popular, but they are not pop anymore. There’s nothing any more generic about 60’s pop than there is about 00’s pop or 20’s pop.
Furthermore, like those other shows, Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman’s music for Hairspray is written in the musical vernacular of the characters. Tracy Turnblad is a typical teenage girl in the early 1960s—she’s not going to be belting out “Good Morning Baltimore” like Rodgers and Hammerstein. Just because we all like theatre doesn’t mean that that is the musical vernacular of every character to appear on a Broadway stage.
It’s easy to see Shaiman and Wittman’s skill in doing this because the songs performed primarily by adults are not in the pop vernacular. Velma Von Tussle’s “(The Legend of) Miss Baltimore Crabs,” while orchestrated to fit in with the other songs, is definitely not in the same vein as the songs performed by the teens. Similarly, “The Big Dollhouse,” while tons of fun, is more of a traditional theatre song. “(You’re) Timeless to Me” and “I Know Where I’ve Been” are also fitting the older characters singing them.
the Broadway Mouth
September 29, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Get with the (Souvenir) Program
I never leave for a show without the money to buy a souvenir program. To me, the CD and the program are essential elements of the experience. You pay $80+ for the show, and not only do you want to remember every minute of that awesome/expensive experience, you want pictures to help you remember and the music to relive it again and again.
When I come home from New York on the plane, the care of my souvenir programs is of utmost concern. I don’t want smashed corners or bent pages. That means they never go in my suitcases or in overhead compartments. I make sure one of my carry-ons is a nice plastic shopping bag that is small enough to keep my programs close together, and I slide it carefully under the seat before me. I then don’t move my legs (which are quite long, since I am 6’ 5”) for the entire flight unless I can do so without stepping on my programs.
Thankfully, they all still look as good as new.
Lately I’ve seen a few programs popping up at used bookstores in my area, which is how I got my Ragtime program (a souvenir of my Lincoln Center Theatre archive viewing). I often pick them up and am surprised at how vapid a number of them have been, more filler and fluff than actual substance. Now, I know not every theatre-goer out there is as obsessive as I, but on some of these, I can see why they’d have no problem selling them for a quarter to a used bookstore.
If you’re paying $10 (or $20 at Tarzan with a cheap bag), you want something to help you preserve the memory. No wonder people were selling of these Rent tour and various other programs. They gave no real clue about what they had seen on stage. Obviously at one point they wanted to preserve the memory, so the show must have been dear them enough to pay for the program in the first place.
I love my programs. When I want to remember how great Jane Eyre was, I just page through the beautiful photographs. When I want to remember how much I laughed during Kiss Me, Kate, I’ll pick up the Broadway or the tour cast program. If I want to remember how great Jayne Patterson was as Fantine, I pull out one of my Les Miserables programs.
And I know I’m not the only one.
Sometimes, though, I do think the producers’ perspective of what we want to remember and what the audience really wants to get are two different things.
So, dear producers, here are some guidelines to help you as you assemble the program you want to sell to aid your bottom line and to aid us in remembering a (hopefully) magical experience.
1. We want pictures. Lots of them that we can easily see.
On this front, The Color Purple program had to be about the most disappointing program I’ve ever gotten. Many of the pages consisted only of one large picture spread out across two pages. There’s one beautiful picture of LaChanze when Celie finds Nettie’s letters, where the crease comes in at her shoulder, which damages the effect. And since the picture is basically LaChanze (lit beautifully) surrounded by pitch black stage, I’m not sure show two pages were needed for that picture, particularly considering the program as a whole.
In addition to the overall shortage of pictures, there are a good number of pictures printed in the program which are so small, they might as well not be included. Seriously. God forbid you should want to remember any of the supporting characters. For such a beautiful show, you’d think they could include something to better help you remember it.
There is, however, a nice picture of Oprah, as if we don’t get a chance to see her often. She looks great, of course, but she wasn’t in the show.
2. Fewer words. There can be one page dedicated to words about the show, but that’s really about it.
In The Color Purple, we get one page dedicated to Oprah telling about how the book changed her life (she already gets a whole monthly magazine and a daily television show to tell us about herself and her experiences). There’s also a page dedicated to Alice Walker and the various incarnations of The Color Purple (with two very small shots from the show at the bottom, relegating Krisha Marcano’s beloved Squeak to a size smaller than my thumb). There’s also two pages about the creation of the show, and another page dedicated to the composer/lyricists and choreographer. There’s also one page (two bottom halfs) detailing the history of juke joints, and one page and a quarter (roughly ¾ of two pages) dedicated to a timeline of African-American history. Then writer Marsha Norman—oddly enough, almost the least-winded of them all—get her say in less than a page of writing (spread out into two pages). I’m surprised the stage hands don’t have a page to share their thoughts, though perhaps that’s one thing that’ll be negotiated for soon.
So, did I buy this program to remember the $120 I spent on The Color Purple or to get a textbook on African-American history?
My Wicked program is an example of an exceptional program in this regards. There is one page dedicated to Gregory Maguire (spread out over two half-pages), and the rest is pretty much pictures that don’t require a magnifying glass to identify.
And even though the cast pictured is the Broadway cast and not the original tour cast that I saw, the pictures are of significant scenes and costumes so that I can vividly recall the images I experienced that wonderful night.
3. Don’t get too cutesy. Stylish design is good, but you don’t want it to overpower the content. A board game in the Urinetown program, for example, is great fun . . . until you realize how much space it’s taking from other content.
Similarly, my program for The Drowsy Chaperone has ten pages of fun fluff. The pictures in the rest of the program are spectacular, but when I find myself looking I through it again, the two pages dedicated to Gable and Stein’s stable aren’t very interesting. The ten pages of Man in Chair’s scrapbook don’t help me remember the show.
4. Remember your audience. Why do people buy souvenir programs? To help them remember the wonderful experience they just had. As flattering as it surely is, an entire page dedicated to snapshots of the producers at the end of my Hairspray program is not why I bought the program. Don’t get me wrong, I am very thankful for all nineteen people and organizations shown there, but . . . They weren’t in the show, so why are they in the program?
Similarly, the Hairspray souvenir program—which has lots of beautiful pictures of the Original Broadway Cast—sprinkles throughout pictures and bios of the entire creative team. The bios come in the insert in the program (which, by the way, was cleverly printed on a fold-out poster). Not only is it redundant to take up space with them in the program, it’s a repeat of information.
When I see the programs that wind up sold to used bookstores, often, there’s so much information not related to the specific experience that I look at the programs myself and can’t get a feel for what they experienced.
5. Use updated pictures as much as possible. I think, as happens so many times, Cameron Mackintosh leads the way on this one. Towards the end of its tour, Les Miserables would hit my city almost yearly. And with every pass through, the souvenir program would be updated with the cast changes. It was a smart move on Mackintosh’s part because I bet I’m not the only one who didn’t mind double-dipping, particularly when it came to getting photos of favorite performances (for me, it was the amazing Jayne Patterson as Fantine).
It seems to be happening less now, but on tour, it often seems like we just get the New York cast in our photos. That’s still nice, but since it is supposed to be a souvenir of what we just saw, updated photos would be ideal.
And I know late in runs, the New York programs tend to be an amalgam of photos from various casts. I bet most theatre-goers would prefer to see photos of their cast rather than a mix of great casts of the past.
6. Make sure that there is a souvenir program!
Probably the strangest purchase I ever made was a program I got at the Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat tour with Patrick Cassidy and Deborah Gibson, which not only didn’t feature the cast I saw, but it wasn’t even the production. I think it was a program of photos from perhaps the original Broadway production. Strange.
I figure if the non-Equity tour of Godspell can come to town with not only a program of the cast but a CD as well, a Broadway tour could at least manage a souvenir program.
I’ve been fortunate that for several tours, I was able to get missing programs on a trip to New York, but it is annoying to see a show and to discover that the program isn’t available. Sometimes it’s a matter of printing times, such as when The Music Man was so new in New York, the programs just weren’t made yet. However, on a tour like Annie Get Your Gun or The King and I, which had been playing in New York for some time, some form of souvenir program should have been possible until new ones were printed.
Two exemplary souvenir programs that I remember are the programs for Bells are Ringing and Tarzan. For Bells are Ringing, there were a ton of pictures throughout (literally from cover to cover), of varying sizes but all large enough to easily see what was going on. The design includes lines on each page, I think to represent telephone lines, but they don’t obscure any pictures. There is writing (a piece from Betty Comden on the inspiration for the show, two historical sections on prices in 1956 and the history of communication, and a few paragraphs from the producer, and about a page from the director), but the best part is that these writings seem secondary to the photographs. They are beside the pictures, in corners of the actual photograph, and above them. A little less writing would have been nice (who cares about a history of communication—what’s the audience for this program?), but the great and many pictures make up for it. This program, by the way, was designed by Dewynters.
It’s almost unfair to use the Tarzan program as a model because it was for a Disney show and is about twice as long as other souvenir programs, no doubt because of the history of Disney’s success on Broadway (and the additional $10 I paid). The program, however, was filled with so many beautiful photos that the amount of writing doesn’t matter. There are many photos from the show itself, plus many others from photo shoots. There is an essay on Edgar Rice Burroughs, three paragraphs from producer Thomas Schumacher, and a few snippets here and there on the creative team for the show. But it is essentially a luscious book loaded with pictures printed on very high quality paper (even the insert of the actors’ bios is printed on thicker paper).
My love for Broadway and the excitement for seeing a show runs incredibly deep. There are times that I pick up a brochure or catalogue and I am immediately taken back to great memories when the printing smell is that of a Broadway program. That smell—no, aroma— takes me back to so many great experiences in the theatre that it makes me wish I could go run and see Show Boat again or Urinetown.
Souvenir programs not only help the bottom line for the producers, they are an essential part in recalling the experience for many people in the audience. When well-created, it becomes a permanent memory when the shows are long-gone and the casts have moved on. When not well-created, you can buy them for $3 at your local used bookstore.
the Broadway Mouth
September 18, 2007
When I come home from New York on the plane, the care of my souvenir programs is of utmost concern. I don’t want smashed corners or bent pages. That means they never go in my suitcases or in overhead compartments. I make sure one of my carry-ons is a nice plastic shopping bag that is small enough to keep my programs close together, and I slide it carefully under the seat before me. I then don’t move my legs (which are quite long, since I am 6’ 5”) for the entire flight unless I can do so without stepping on my programs.
Thankfully, they all still look as good as new.
Lately I’ve seen a few programs popping up at used bookstores in my area, which is how I got my Ragtime program (a souvenir of my Lincoln Center Theatre archive viewing). I often pick them up and am surprised at how vapid a number of them have been, more filler and fluff than actual substance. Now, I know not every theatre-goer out there is as obsessive as I, but on some of these, I can see why they’d have no problem selling them for a quarter to a used bookstore.
If you’re paying $10 (or $20 at Tarzan with a cheap bag), you want something to help you preserve the memory. No wonder people were selling of these Rent tour and various other programs. They gave no real clue about what they had seen on stage. Obviously at one point they wanted to preserve the memory, so the show must have been dear them enough to pay for the program in the first place.
I love my programs. When I want to remember how great Jane Eyre was, I just page through the beautiful photographs. When I want to remember how much I laughed during Kiss Me, Kate, I’ll pick up the Broadway or the tour cast program. If I want to remember how great Jayne Patterson was as Fantine, I pull out one of my Les Miserables programs.
And I know I’m not the only one.
Sometimes, though, I do think the producers’ perspective of what we want to remember and what the audience really wants to get are two different things.
So, dear producers, here are some guidelines to help you as you assemble the program you want to sell to aid your bottom line and to aid us in remembering a (hopefully) magical experience.
1. We want pictures. Lots of them that we can easily see.
On this front, The Color Purple program had to be about the most disappointing program I’ve ever gotten. Many of the pages consisted only of one large picture spread out across two pages. There’s one beautiful picture of LaChanze when Celie finds Nettie’s letters, where the crease comes in at her shoulder, which damages the effect. And since the picture is basically LaChanze (lit beautifully) surrounded by pitch black stage, I’m not sure show two pages were needed for that picture, particularly considering the program as a whole.
In addition to the overall shortage of pictures, there are a good number of pictures printed in the program which are so small, they might as well not be included. Seriously. God forbid you should want to remember any of the supporting characters. For such a beautiful show, you’d think they could include something to better help you remember it.
There is, however, a nice picture of Oprah, as if we don’t get a chance to see her often. She looks great, of course, but she wasn’t in the show.
2. Fewer words. There can be one page dedicated to words about the show, but that’s really about it.
In The Color Purple, we get one page dedicated to Oprah telling about how the book changed her life (she already gets a whole monthly magazine and a daily television show to tell us about herself and her experiences). There’s also a page dedicated to Alice Walker and the various incarnations of The Color Purple (with two very small shots from the show at the bottom, relegating Krisha Marcano’s beloved Squeak to a size smaller than my thumb). There’s also two pages about the creation of the show, and another page dedicated to the composer/lyricists and choreographer. There’s also one page (two bottom halfs) detailing the history of juke joints, and one page and a quarter (roughly ¾ of two pages) dedicated to a timeline of African-American history. Then writer Marsha Norman—oddly enough, almost the least-winded of them all—get her say in less than a page of writing (spread out into two pages). I’m surprised the stage hands don’t have a page to share their thoughts, though perhaps that’s one thing that’ll be negotiated for soon.
So, did I buy this program to remember the $120 I spent on The Color Purple or to get a textbook on African-American history?
My Wicked program is an example of an exceptional program in this regards. There is one page dedicated to Gregory Maguire (spread out over two half-pages), and the rest is pretty much pictures that don’t require a magnifying glass to identify.
And even though the cast pictured is the Broadway cast and not the original tour cast that I saw, the pictures are of significant scenes and costumes so that I can vividly recall the images I experienced that wonderful night.
3. Don’t get too cutesy. Stylish design is good, but you don’t want it to overpower the content. A board game in the Urinetown program, for example, is great fun . . . until you realize how much space it’s taking from other content.
Similarly, my program for The Drowsy Chaperone has ten pages of fun fluff. The pictures in the rest of the program are spectacular, but when I find myself looking I through it again, the two pages dedicated to Gable and Stein’s stable aren’t very interesting. The ten pages of Man in Chair’s scrapbook don’t help me remember the show.
4. Remember your audience. Why do people buy souvenir programs? To help them remember the wonderful experience they just had. As flattering as it surely is, an entire page dedicated to snapshots of the producers at the end of my Hairspray program is not why I bought the program. Don’t get me wrong, I am very thankful for all nineteen people and organizations shown there, but . . . They weren’t in the show, so why are they in the program?
Similarly, the Hairspray souvenir program—which has lots of beautiful pictures of the Original Broadway Cast—sprinkles throughout pictures and bios of the entire creative team. The bios come in the insert in the program (which, by the way, was cleverly printed on a fold-out poster). Not only is it redundant to take up space with them in the program, it’s a repeat of information.
When I see the programs that wind up sold to used bookstores, often, there’s so much information not related to the specific experience that I look at the programs myself and can’t get a feel for what they experienced.
5. Use updated pictures as much as possible. I think, as happens so many times, Cameron Mackintosh leads the way on this one. Towards the end of its tour, Les Miserables would hit my city almost yearly. And with every pass through, the souvenir program would be updated with the cast changes. It was a smart move on Mackintosh’s part because I bet I’m not the only one who didn’t mind double-dipping, particularly when it came to getting photos of favorite performances (for me, it was the amazing Jayne Patterson as Fantine).
It seems to be happening less now, but on tour, it often seems like we just get the New York cast in our photos. That’s still nice, but since it is supposed to be a souvenir of what we just saw, updated photos would be ideal.
And I know late in runs, the New York programs tend to be an amalgam of photos from various casts. I bet most theatre-goers would prefer to see photos of their cast rather than a mix of great casts of the past.
6. Make sure that there is a souvenir program!
Probably the strangest purchase I ever made was a program I got at the Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat tour with Patrick Cassidy and Deborah Gibson, which not only didn’t feature the cast I saw, but it wasn’t even the production. I think it was a program of photos from perhaps the original Broadway production. Strange.
I figure if the non-Equity tour of Godspell can come to town with not only a program of the cast but a CD as well, a Broadway tour could at least manage a souvenir program.
I’ve been fortunate that for several tours, I was able to get missing programs on a trip to New York, but it is annoying to see a show and to discover that the program isn’t available. Sometimes it’s a matter of printing times, such as when The Music Man was so new in New York, the programs just weren’t made yet. However, on a tour like Annie Get Your Gun or The King and I, which had been playing in New York for some time, some form of souvenir program should have been possible until new ones were printed.
Two exemplary souvenir programs that I remember are the programs for Bells are Ringing and Tarzan. For Bells are Ringing, there were a ton of pictures throughout (literally from cover to cover), of varying sizes but all large enough to easily see what was going on. The design includes lines on each page, I think to represent telephone lines, but they don’t obscure any pictures. There is writing (a piece from Betty Comden on the inspiration for the show, two historical sections on prices in 1956 and the history of communication, and a few paragraphs from the producer, and about a page from the director), but the best part is that these writings seem secondary to the photographs. They are beside the pictures, in corners of the actual photograph, and above them. A little less writing would have been nice (who cares about a history of communication—what’s the audience for this program?), but the great and many pictures make up for it. This program, by the way, was designed by Dewynters.
It’s almost unfair to use the Tarzan program as a model because it was for a Disney show and is about twice as long as other souvenir programs, no doubt because of the history of Disney’s success on Broadway (and the additional $10 I paid). The program, however, was filled with so many beautiful photos that the amount of writing doesn’t matter. There are many photos from the show itself, plus many others from photo shoots. There is an essay on Edgar Rice Burroughs, three paragraphs from producer Thomas Schumacher, and a few snippets here and there on the creative team for the show. But it is essentially a luscious book loaded with pictures printed on very high quality paper (even the insert of the actors’ bios is printed on thicker paper).
My love for Broadway and the excitement for seeing a show runs incredibly deep. There are times that I pick up a brochure or catalogue and I am immediately taken back to great memories when the printing smell is that of a Broadway program. That smell—no, aroma— takes me back to so many great experiences in the theatre that it makes me wish I could go run and see Show Boat again or Urinetown.
Souvenir programs not only help the bottom line for the producers, they are an essential part in recalling the experience for many people in the audience. When well-created, it becomes a permanent memory when the shows are long-gone and the casts have moved on. When not well-created, you can buy them for $3 at your local used bookstore.
the Broadway Mouth
September 18, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
If You Don’t Like the Way I Look
The great thing about Hairspray is how it empowers the audience to step beyond expectations and to do great things.
The sad thing about Hairspray is that you have to walk into the real world when it’s over.
Case in point: One of the best things about Miss Saigon was that it gave a plethora of very talented Asian-American performers a chance to shine in roles of a lifetime. One of the tragedies, however, is that so few of those performers have gone on to appear in other shows on Broadway.
For African-American performers, there is an increasing amount of casting in “white shows” (i.e. The Drowsy Chaperone, Wicked, The Music Man), plus there have recently been a number of significant shows with large African-American casts—The Color Purple; Caroline, or Change; Aida, Jelly’s Last Jam; The Lion King. But it seems like there’s still a large barrier for other performers. I never saw Bombay Dreams, but in an interview I saw with Ayesha Dharker, she seemed so funny and charming, and she can definitely move. But it’s doubtful we’ll ever see Ayesha Dharker on Broadway again. And where’s Sandra Allen been with her follow-up to Flower Drum Song? In the performance of “Fan Tan Fannie” I saw on The Today Show, she seemed like the complete package to me.
We’re even seeing it with Hairspray. In the bonus features on Rick McKay’s Broadway: The Golden Age, Marissa Jaret Winokur sings from Annie Get Your Gun then says, “I’ll never play that role.” You know she’s right. Honestly I’m not sure how well Winokur would handle the songs in her character singing voice, but that’s not why she won’t ever get that part. Annie Oakley can’t be ugly, but Winokur certainly is not. Winokur is sexy and very talented, and she’s got a Tony to prove it. But she won’t get the part.
I am proud to say as I’ve contemplated the shows I’ve been writing/wanting to write, I’ve always been very open in terms of casting. For example, in the show I always said would be my third show, I always figured that one large part would be played by an African-American actor (provided he wasn’t too old to play it by the time I ever got anywhere with it) even though historically, it might not be an accurate casting choice. If you’re dealing with a major historical time period where the look of the characters matter—like in Cabaret—you can’t really be too creative in casting, but if you’re dealing with something less specific, then it’s not a big deal. Okay, so maybe Belle wouldn’t have been African-French. But it’s not particularly historically accurate that someone would express emotions through song and dance either. I think Cameron Macintosh should be applauded for the diversity he’s promoted in Les Miserables over the years. Once again, he showed us how it should be done.
So I dedicate this blog entry to Melinda Chua, Luoyong Wang, Margaret Ann Gates, Carly Jibson, Marissa Jaret Winokur, Ayesha Dharker, DeeDee Magno, Sandra Allen, Shannon Durig, and a host of other wonderful performers. May your talent take you far.
the Broadway Mouth
August 15, 2007
The sad thing about Hairspray is that you have to walk into the real world when it’s over.
Case in point: One of the best things about Miss Saigon was that it gave a plethora of very talented Asian-American performers a chance to shine in roles of a lifetime. One of the tragedies, however, is that so few of those performers have gone on to appear in other shows on Broadway.
For African-American performers, there is an increasing amount of casting in “white shows” (i.e. The Drowsy Chaperone, Wicked, The Music Man), plus there have recently been a number of significant shows with large African-American casts—The Color Purple; Caroline, or Change; Aida, Jelly’s Last Jam; The Lion King. But it seems like there’s still a large barrier for other performers. I never saw Bombay Dreams, but in an interview I saw with Ayesha Dharker, she seemed so funny and charming, and she can definitely move. But it’s doubtful we’ll ever see Ayesha Dharker on Broadway again. And where’s Sandra Allen been with her follow-up to Flower Drum Song? In the performance of “Fan Tan Fannie” I saw on The Today Show, she seemed like the complete package to me.
We’re even seeing it with Hairspray. In the bonus features on Rick McKay’s Broadway: The Golden Age, Marissa Jaret Winokur sings from Annie Get Your Gun then says, “I’ll never play that role.” You know she’s right. Honestly I’m not sure how well Winokur would handle the songs in her character singing voice, but that’s not why she won’t ever get that part. Annie Oakley can’t be ugly, but Winokur certainly is not. Winokur is sexy and very talented, and she’s got a Tony to prove it. But she won’t get the part.
I am proud to say as I’ve contemplated the shows I’ve been writing/wanting to write, I’ve always been very open in terms of casting. For example, in the show I always said would be my third show, I always figured that one large part would be played by an African-American actor (provided he wasn’t too old to play it by the time I ever got anywhere with it) even though historically, it might not be an accurate casting choice. If you’re dealing with a major historical time period where the look of the characters matter—like in Cabaret—you can’t really be too creative in casting, but if you’re dealing with something less specific, then it’s not a big deal. Okay, so maybe Belle wouldn’t have been African-French. But it’s not particularly historically accurate that someone would express emotions through song and dance either. I think Cameron Macintosh should be applauded for the diversity he’s promoted in Les Miserables over the years. Once again, he showed us how it should be done.
So I dedicate this blog entry to Melinda Chua, Luoyong Wang, Margaret Ann Gates, Carly Jibson, Marissa Jaret Winokur, Ayesha Dharker, DeeDee Magno, Sandra Allen, Shannon Durig, and a host of other wonderful performers. May your talent take you far.
the Broadway Mouth
August 15, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
Amazing Broadway Performer: Carly Jibson
While I do keep up with what’s going on in the Broadway World despite my distance from 42nd Street, I try not to learn too much about new shows until I get a chance to see them on tour or on Broadway. Yes, I record shows when they appear on The Today Show and love the Tony Awards, but if I can, I like to walk into shows expecting nothing but what I’m given by that particular cast.
Let me tell you, I didn’t expect a lighting rod of a talent like Carly Jibson when I saw the tour of Hairspray. It was as if she was a never-ending wind-up toy, and she danced and sang around the stage like she was channeling the energy of Speedy Gonzales and the sweetness of Tweety Bird. The moment her eyes opened in bed and got to “Woke,” you couldn’t help but be madly in love with her Tracy Turnblad.
She was everything Tracy must be—cute beyond belief, perky, passionate, tough, spunky, and adorable. I vividly remember so much of her performance—her dancing with Penny (Alli Mauzy) to the opening of The Corny Collins Show, her cute walk, her gleeful spunk as she finally topped Amber Von Tussle—that you’d think I saw it yesterday. When I saw an excellent Tracy on Broadway and another charmer in the film version, I still couldn’t help but see Carly Jibson echoing in my mind. That’s not a negative reflection of these two other very talented women; it’s simply a comment on the young talent of Carly Jibson.
I can’t wait to see Carly Jibson on stage again. I believe she was only nineteen when I saw her in Hairspray. All that talent and only nineteen . . . I get excited thinking of all the great roles she could conquer as she gets more and more experience under her belt.
Getting to Know You Interview: http://www.broadway.com/gen/Buzz_Story.aspx?ci=40134
Broadway Mouth
July 20, 2007
Let me tell you, I didn’t expect a lighting rod of a talent like Carly Jibson when I saw the tour of Hairspray. It was as if she was a never-ending wind-up toy, and she danced and sang around the stage like she was channeling the energy of Speedy Gonzales and the sweetness of Tweety Bird. The moment her eyes opened in bed and got to “Woke,” you couldn’t help but be madly in love with her Tracy Turnblad.
She was everything Tracy must be—cute beyond belief, perky, passionate, tough, spunky, and adorable. I vividly remember so much of her performance—her dancing with Penny (Alli Mauzy) to the opening of The Corny Collins Show, her cute walk, her gleeful spunk as she finally topped Amber Von Tussle—that you’d think I saw it yesterday. When I saw an excellent Tracy on Broadway and another charmer in the film version, I still couldn’t help but see Carly Jibson echoing in my mind. That’s not a negative reflection of these two other very talented women; it’s simply a comment on the young talent of Carly Jibson.
I can’t wait to see Carly Jibson on stage again. I believe she was only nineteen when I saw her in Hairspray. All that talent and only nineteen . . . I get excited thinking of all the great roles she could conquer as she gets more and more experience under her belt.
Getting to Know You Interview: http://www.broadway.com/gen/Buzz_Story.aspx?ci=40134
Broadway Mouth
July 20, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
The Beat Goes On: Yes, They Got Hairspray Right! (Spoiler-Free)
They got it right. They got it right! Thank God, they got it right!
Seriously, the producers of the Hairspray movie need to write a book on how to adapt Broadway shows for film. I’d write it myself, but I lack the experience. But they know their stuff and prove it in about every second of the Hairspray movie.
First of all, John Travolta is a revelation in this movie. Okay, maybe he was a revelation back in the ‘70s, but I don’t think I’ve seen him in anything since Grease, so he was a revelation to me. I don’t want to go into too many details (because I promised “Spoiler-Free”), but mid-way through “(You’re) Timeless to Me,” I realized that he’s topped Danny Zuko. He was wary about doing another film musical because he didn’t want to compete with Danny Zuko. No need. He’s done better. He’s that good in the role.
Best of all, to me, the film does what The Sound of Music film did, which was to take several great songs and give them a better placement than where they were in the original stage version. The result is a meatier second act, which leads more strongly to the climax.
Also executed perfectly was the adaptation of several songs for the film. For example, “I Can Hear the Bells” is done completely different from the film but is just as much fun. There’s also much cleverness in the adaptation of “Welcome to the 60’s” and “Without Love.” There’s been some talk that “Miss Baltimore Crabs” was replaced, but it’s still there, though now there’s an unbeatable callback later on.
I always said that Hairspray would be the perfect musical for kids. It has a lot to say, and not only does it say it well, it’s incredibly inspiring. To me, the problem with the stage version was the sprinkling of a few things that just weren’t needed (i.e. kids having sex on the playground; the African-American boy being the one who wants to de-flower the pure, innocent white girl; the gym teacher wanting to shower with her students . . . that last one was always an “ewwww” to me), but they are pretty much gone in this version. It has one or two light entendres for the PG-rating, but it’s really a great film for all ages. And I will say that I left the theater inspired and wanting to act on doing something for my personal cause, the Not for Sale campaign against human-trafficking.
I would also like to add that not only is the movie inspiring, it’s also very touching. I would go as far as to say that it moved me, like the stage version did, in the strength of Wilbur and Edna’s bond as well as in Tracy’s courage.
As far as I’m concerned, the only complaints anyone could have are in the typical film adaptation complaint department. First of all, the voices generally aren’t as strong as their stage counterparts (and I am still very satisfied with only my Broadway OBC recording) and quite simply, it’s not a stage show, which is always more energetic and, as a result, funnier. However, considering that stage musicals on film can never fully capture the original’s energy or comedic timing, I am more than pleased with the film. Like I said, I loved it!
I also have a feeling the film will give the stage version longer legs. I walked out of the movie last night wishing I could rush off and see an Equity production of the Broadway show so badly. I can’t believe I’ll the only one.
At the end of the movie (and do stay until the end for some great songs cut from the Broadway show), I remembered some of the criticisms I’ve read about the show from Ethan Mordden and Michael John LaChiusa. Watching the movie reminded me of what a blast Hairspray is on stage, and I defy anyone to criticize the joy this musical gives you or how it moves you.
This summer, I’ve seen many of the big movies—Spider-Man 3 (twice), Pirates of the Caribbean: More Confusing Than Dostoyevsky (once is enough), Transformers (good but not great), and Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (better than the original). Okay, so I need to see Ratatouille still, but I will say this: Of all the movies I have seen this summer, Hairspray is been hands-down the best.
So, on opening weekend, go see Hairspray! When Hollywood gets a musical right, the suits need to know there’s an audience for them. Opening weekends are crucial to send a message to the analysts. Take your kids, take your nieces and nephews, take your friends. I know I can’t wait to see it again myself.
Broadway Mouth
July 10, 2007
Please Note: Okay, I've never read a novel by Dostoyevsky. I'm just going off rumors.
Seriously, the producers of the Hairspray movie need to write a book on how to adapt Broadway shows for film. I’d write it myself, but I lack the experience. But they know their stuff and prove it in about every second of the Hairspray movie.
First of all, John Travolta is a revelation in this movie. Okay, maybe he was a revelation back in the ‘70s, but I don’t think I’ve seen him in anything since Grease, so he was a revelation to me. I don’t want to go into too many details (because I promised “Spoiler-Free”), but mid-way through “(You’re) Timeless to Me,” I realized that he’s topped Danny Zuko. He was wary about doing another film musical because he didn’t want to compete with Danny Zuko. No need. He’s done better. He’s that good in the role.
Best of all, to me, the film does what The Sound of Music film did, which was to take several great songs and give them a better placement than where they were in the original stage version. The result is a meatier second act, which leads more strongly to the climax.
Also executed perfectly was the adaptation of several songs for the film. For example, “I Can Hear the Bells” is done completely different from the film but is just as much fun. There’s also much cleverness in the adaptation of “Welcome to the 60’s” and “Without Love.” There’s been some talk that “Miss Baltimore Crabs” was replaced, but it’s still there, though now there’s an unbeatable callback later on.
I always said that Hairspray would be the perfect musical for kids. It has a lot to say, and not only does it say it well, it’s incredibly inspiring. To me, the problem with the stage version was the sprinkling of a few things that just weren’t needed (i.e. kids having sex on the playground; the African-American boy being the one who wants to de-flower the pure, innocent white girl; the gym teacher wanting to shower with her students . . . that last one was always an “ewwww” to me), but they are pretty much gone in this version. It has one or two light entendres for the PG-rating, but it’s really a great film for all ages. And I will say that I left the theater inspired and wanting to act on doing something for my personal cause, the Not for Sale campaign against human-trafficking.
I would also like to add that not only is the movie inspiring, it’s also very touching. I would go as far as to say that it moved me, like the stage version did, in the strength of Wilbur and Edna’s bond as well as in Tracy’s courage.
As far as I’m concerned, the only complaints anyone could have are in the typical film adaptation complaint department. First of all, the voices generally aren’t as strong as their stage counterparts (and I am still very satisfied with only my Broadway OBC recording) and quite simply, it’s not a stage show, which is always more energetic and, as a result, funnier. However, considering that stage musicals on film can never fully capture the original’s energy or comedic timing, I am more than pleased with the film. Like I said, I loved it!
I also have a feeling the film will give the stage version longer legs. I walked out of the movie last night wishing I could rush off and see an Equity production of the Broadway show so badly. I can’t believe I’ll the only one.
At the end of the movie (and do stay until the end for some great songs cut from the Broadway show), I remembered some of the criticisms I’ve read about the show from Ethan Mordden and Michael John LaChiusa. Watching the movie reminded me of what a blast Hairspray is on stage, and I defy anyone to criticize the joy this musical gives you or how it moves you.
This summer, I’ve seen many of the big movies—Spider-Man 3 (twice), Pirates of the Caribbean: More Confusing Than Dostoyevsky (once is enough), Transformers (good but not great), and Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (better than the original). Okay, so I need to see Ratatouille still, but I will say this: Of all the movies I have seen this summer, Hairspray is been hands-down the best.
So, on opening weekend, go see Hairspray! When Hollywood gets a musical right, the suits need to know there’s an audience for them. Opening weekends are crucial to send a message to the analysts. Take your kids, take your nieces and nephews, take your friends. I know I can’t wait to see it again myself.
Broadway Mouth
July 10, 2007
Please Note: Okay, I've never read a novel by Dostoyevsky. I'm just going off rumors.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Announced for Next Season: The Second Golden Age
When I saw Jane Eyre, I saw next to a woman who cried throughout the whole show. She had seen it seventeen times, if I recall correctly, and she was overcome with emotion because of how wonderful it was and how the show made her feel. I have a friend who made it to New York to see Aida starring Simone, and she told me how she cried at the end. I have another friend who balled at The Color Purple.
I, on the other end, almost lost it during The Wedding Singer. I’m not kidding. I had flown in on a moment’s notice to interview for a job. One day, I was sitting at home hoping for the next phase of my life to jump start, and two days later, I’m sitting in seat D115 in the Al Hirschfeld Theatre watching my first Broadway show on Broadway since my second visit to The Music Man in 2001.
I’m not even a crier. Honestly. But to be sitting there watching an awesome number like “It’s Your Wedding Day” in person on Broadway after watching it over and over from the Tony Awards, I was overcome with emotion. Even though I had seen every show that was even decent on tour, I told myself, “No matter what happens, I have to make it back here again soon. It’s been too long.”
I had a great time seeing lots of fun shows on that trip, The Wedding Singer, Tarzan, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, The Drowsy Chaperone, Hairspray (which I had seen once on tour), and The Color Purple.
I thoroughly enjoyed my time at every single one of those shows except one. However, when all was said and done, I realized that as strong as these shows were, the only one that could really hold a candle to the great shows of the past was Hairspray. Don’t get me wrong; I really enjoyed myself at all of these shows except one. I laughed heartily at Spelling Bee and felt so bad for Celia Keenan-Bolger’s poor Olive Olstrovsky. I cheered at the turn of events in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. I was glued to Sutton Foster in The Drowsy Chaperone, and so on.
On my life game of Broadway Star Bingo, I finally got to check off a number of amazing performances from people I had always wanted to see or to see again—Jose Llana, Amy Spanger, Merle Dandridge, Schuler Hensley, Sutton Foster, LaChanze, to name just a very few.
At the same time, I wouldn’t say that as a whole, the shows I saw were as good as shows from previous trips which consisted equally of revivals and new works. I don’t want to join in on the chorus of people proclaiming the death of Broadway or lamenting how it’s not like in “the good old days.” Like I said, I thoroughly enjoyed my time at almost all of those shows, and I think that is all that we can ask of a Broadway musical, to be entertained thoroughly. The rest is, as Sherie Rene Scott said, too wonderful to be true.
I don’t find this disheartening, however. I really don’t. I do think it is important to acknowledge that I didn’t see anything as hilarious and poignant as Kiss Me, Kate or as enrapturing as The Music Man or as moving as Les Miserables, but I don’t find it disheartening.
Again, I saw performances as great as any on the Broadway stage ever—look at the original casts and replacement casts in that list. As far as I’m concerned, Sutton Foster is the next Marilyn Miller but with more talent, Felicia P. Fields as sweet as Gwen Verdon, and Stephen Flaherty as charming as Robert Morse. I couldn’t have paid big bucks to see better talents.
Something we all need to remember is that rarely did the great writing talents of the previous Golden Age hit a homerun their first times at bat. For example, we are all looking forward to the revival of Guys and Dolls, but I’ve never even heard of a contemporary production of Frank Loesser’s Where’s Charley. We all love Oklahoma!, but how many of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s older shows do we see today? Other than Show Boat and Pal Joey, not many. Stephen Sondheim had Anyone Can Whistle before Company. For Kander and Ebb there was Flora, the Red Menace. Cole Porter had written a number of duds, and he was written off until Kiss Me, Kate. If I were to take a look on ibdb.com, I’m sure I could find similar early flops (or even popular hits that by modern standards aren’t very good) for librettists.
We live in a time when artists get very little chance to develop their craft before their works hit the big time. When I went through a mini-Tennessee Williams kick this past spring, I was surprised to learn that he had actually written an early shorter play that became A Streetcar Named Desire. He had had many opportunities to write and have his work seen before The Glass Menagerie, his first big hit. Composers and lyricists might have had songs here and there in revues, where they could earn money to support themselves as they developed their crafts. As a result, these people learned by doing and failing.
Today, it’s harder to break in. People have to learn by doing in college or in programs like BMI instead of in front of authentic audiences. They have to work tirelessly to get their music into anyone’s hands then pray fervently that someone will pop the CD in and actually listen. All the while, living costs in New York City have skyrocketed, and they must balance living with developing their craft. Very few people write their first produced songs in the early 20s anymore. To be produced at 22, for example, allows you a lot of time learning from your audience and learning from a creative team. These days, people are getting produced when?—often their 30s and 40s.
It is my belief that we are on the cusp of a second Golden Age. When the time comes, I doubt anyone will acknowledge it because to some, nothing will ever be as grand as the past, but our time today shares a number of key similarities with Broadway prior to the Golden Age.
We have many young talents cutting their teeth on their first shows. Listen to the scores of The Wedding Singer and The Color Purple—there’s real talent there! Look at the ingenuity of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee—that’s hilarious and so fresh. Admire the boldness of Tarzan’s concept and visuals. How clever was the conceit of The Drowsy Chaperone. If Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison can write the score to The Drowsy Chaperone now, think of how great their fifth Broadway show will be. If Winnie Holzman—new to Broadway if not to writing—can produce Wicked her first time around, how great will her fifth show be? That’s real promise.
Right now, everything is in place for not only thoroughly enjoyable shows, but shows that are practically perfect in every sense—like Oklahoma!, Guys and Dolls, The Pajama Game, Wonderful Town. They may be dramatic like The Color Purple, they may be rock like Spring Awakening, or they may be full of spectacle like The Pirate Queen, but if we can get these people venues for writing, support them in their success and in their learning experiences (also known as failures), Broadway won’t just post record revenue but record attendance as well.
Broadway Mouth
June 14, 2007
I, on the other end, almost lost it during The Wedding Singer. I’m not kidding. I had flown in on a moment’s notice to interview for a job. One day, I was sitting at home hoping for the next phase of my life to jump start, and two days later, I’m sitting in seat D115 in the Al Hirschfeld Theatre watching my first Broadway show on Broadway since my second visit to The Music Man in 2001.
I’m not even a crier. Honestly. But to be sitting there watching an awesome number like “It’s Your Wedding Day” in person on Broadway after watching it over and over from the Tony Awards, I was overcome with emotion. Even though I had seen every show that was even decent on tour, I told myself, “No matter what happens, I have to make it back here again soon. It’s been too long.”
I had a great time seeing lots of fun shows on that trip, The Wedding Singer, Tarzan, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, The Drowsy Chaperone, Hairspray (which I had seen once on tour), and The Color Purple.
I thoroughly enjoyed my time at every single one of those shows except one. However, when all was said and done, I realized that as strong as these shows were, the only one that could really hold a candle to the great shows of the past was Hairspray. Don’t get me wrong; I really enjoyed myself at all of these shows except one. I laughed heartily at Spelling Bee and felt so bad for Celia Keenan-Bolger’s poor Olive Olstrovsky. I cheered at the turn of events in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. I was glued to Sutton Foster in The Drowsy Chaperone, and so on.
On my life game of Broadway Star Bingo, I finally got to check off a number of amazing performances from people I had always wanted to see or to see again—Jose Llana, Amy Spanger, Merle Dandridge, Schuler Hensley, Sutton Foster, LaChanze, to name just a very few.
At the same time, I wouldn’t say that as a whole, the shows I saw were as good as shows from previous trips which consisted equally of revivals and new works. I don’t want to join in on the chorus of people proclaiming the death of Broadway or lamenting how it’s not like in “the good old days.” Like I said, I thoroughly enjoyed my time at almost all of those shows, and I think that is all that we can ask of a Broadway musical, to be entertained thoroughly. The rest is, as Sherie Rene Scott said, too wonderful to be true.
I don’t find this disheartening, however. I really don’t. I do think it is important to acknowledge that I didn’t see anything as hilarious and poignant as Kiss Me, Kate or as enrapturing as The Music Man or as moving as Les Miserables, but I don’t find it disheartening.
Again, I saw performances as great as any on the Broadway stage ever—look at the original casts and replacement casts in that list. As far as I’m concerned, Sutton Foster is the next Marilyn Miller but with more talent, Felicia P. Fields as sweet as Gwen Verdon, and Stephen Flaherty as charming as Robert Morse. I couldn’t have paid big bucks to see better talents.
Something we all need to remember is that rarely did the great writing talents of the previous Golden Age hit a homerun their first times at bat. For example, we are all looking forward to the revival of Guys and Dolls, but I’ve never even heard of a contemporary production of Frank Loesser’s Where’s Charley. We all love Oklahoma!, but how many of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s older shows do we see today? Other than Show Boat and Pal Joey, not many. Stephen Sondheim had Anyone Can Whistle before Company. For Kander and Ebb there was Flora, the Red Menace. Cole Porter had written a number of duds, and he was written off until Kiss Me, Kate. If I were to take a look on ibdb.com, I’m sure I could find similar early flops (or even popular hits that by modern standards aren’t very good) for librettists.
We live in a time when artists get very little chance to develop their craft before their works hit the big time. When I went through a mini-Tennessee Williams kick this past spring, I was surprised to learn that he had actually written an early shorter play that became A Streetcar Named Desire. He had had many opportunities to write and have his work seen before The Glass Menagerie, his first big hit. Composers and lyricists might have had songs here and there in revues, where they could earn money to support themselves as they developed their crafts. As a result, these people learned by doing and failing.
Today, it’s harder to break in. People have to learn by doing in college or in programs like BMI instead of in front of authentic audiences. They have to work tirelessly to get their music into anyone’s hands then pray fervently that someone will pop the CD in and actually listen. All the while, living costs in New York City have skyrocketed, and they must balance living with developing their craft. Very few people write their first produced songs in the early 20s anymore. To be produced at 22, for example, allows you a lot of time learning from your audience and learning from a creative team. These days, people are getting produced when?—often their 30s and 40s.
It is my belief that we are on the cusp of a second Golden Age. When the time comes, I doubt anyone will acknowledge it because to some, nothing will ever be as grand as the past, but our time today shares a number of key similarities with Broadway prior to the Golden Age.
We have many young talents cutting their teeth on their first shows. Listen to the scores of The Wedding Singer and The Color Purple—there’s real talent there! Look at the ingenuity of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee—that’s hilarious and so fresh. Admire the boldness of Tarzan’s concept and visuals. How clever was the conceit of The Drowsy Chaperone. If Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison can write the score to The Drowsy Chaperone now, think of how great their fifth Broadway show will be. If Winnie Holzman—new to Broadway if not to writing—can produce Wicked her first time around, how great will her fifth show be? That’s real promise.
Right now, everything is in place for not only thoroughly enjoyable shows, but shows that are practically perfect in every sense—like Oklahoma!, Guys and Dolls, The Pajama Game, Wonderful Town. They may be dramatic like The Color Purple, they may be rock like Spring Awakening, or they may be full of spectacle like The Pirate Queen, but if we can get these people venues for writing, support them in their success and in their learning experiences (also known as failures), Broadway won’t just post record revenue but record attendance as well.
Broadway Mouth
June 14, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Give Them What They Want / Za Ba Zoovee
My favorite entry in The TheaterMania Guide to Musical Theater Recordings has to be David Barbour’s summary of the plot of Aida.
After subduing the nation of Nubia, Radames brings back the Princess Aida (Heather Headley), with whom he promptly falls in love. The three of them proceed to scream their heads off for two acts—lamenting cruel fate, etc., etc.
Perhaps Al Hirschfeld, who was alive to see so much of American theatre in the past century, said it best in the great PBS documentary Broadway: The American Musical when he observed that the “form changes, and that’s difficult for a lot of people to accept. They’re stuck on one period, and they think that’s the period that’s important . . . It changes, and you have to roll with the punches, I think.”
What led to Broadway’s need for life support, as Elaine Stritch called it in the Rick McKay film Broadway: The Golden Age, was not because America fell out of step with the Broadway musical. Instead, as Frank Rich states in the PBS documentary, “Broadway was basically trying to ignore the 60s . . . [and the] Broadway musical [fell] out of sync with pop culture.”
Yes, we need to remind ourselves, Broadway used to be part of pop culture. Broadway albums would be purchased by people all over the country and hit high on the sales charts, much like if the Grey Gardens CD was right up there with Rihanna’s latest success in today’s terms.
Not only was it popular, but some songs were often written to be pop hits. For example, “Hey, There” was intended to be heard outside of The Pajama Game. Its lyrics were made specific to the character but general enough to reach a wide audience to promote the show, and it was skillfully reprised in the second act to reinforce its sell-ability. “If I Ever I Would Leave You” was played on the radio.
Broadway was also talked about and written about. Shows and their stars made the covers of major magazines. It was not uncommon to see performances on variety shows such as The Ed Sullivan Show. And even a mildly successful show, like The Unsinkable Molly Brown or Silk Stockings, made it to Hollywood.
So what’s wrong with Broadway catching up with the times?
Let me state that I agree that there is room for all sorts of different musicals—musical comedies, musical plays, pop operas, rock musicals, deconstructed musicals, linear musicals, and whatever else may arrive on the scene. Of my first three shows I’d like to see on a Broadway stage, none of them are pop or rock or anything threatening like that. But I don’t know why Broadway critics act as if shows like The Pirate Queen can’t coincide with shows like The Drowsy Chaperone. That really annoys me.
Part of the problem is that the average theatre-goer and critic is out of touch with the times. If you grew up with A Chorus Line being the ideal musical and that musical style defining what Broadway music should be, then how can you possibly connect with other styles of music that are currently on the scene or will come on the scene in years to come?
For example, if I listen to rap music, I can probably identify 1/19 of the words; however, if I bought several rap CDs, before long I’d be in the 18/19 range. My lack of understanding or appreciation of rap music doesn’t negate its nuances any more than a rap artist’s lack of understanding or appreciation of a Broadway ballad from the 1950s doesn’t negate its nuances. It’s more to do with the listener than the artist.
In his thought-provoking book The Happiest Corpse I’ve Ever Seen, Ethan Mordden laments the popification of Broadway with shows like Jekyll and Hyde, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and Hairspray (see: Note), arguing that pop music cannot be character specific. Perhaps it’s just that some critics don’t have an ear for the sound.
Several years ago, I heard a rock band at a free concert, and I immediately fell in love with their music. I have since expanded my listening to a variety of other bands, and what was once noise to me is now music. There are rock songs of all sorts and of all emotions. Rock didn’t all of a sudden become high quality—I just caught up with that boat. Now I could appreciate a rock show much more than I could have ten years ago.
Broadway is essentially a pop art, so why it doesn’t welcome pop music forms strikes me as a discordant note. If a show like Spring Awakening could get a song on the radio—either performed by one of its stars or covered by a hot act—it wouldn’t have needed eight Tonys to stay afloat. Even a show like The Wedding Singer, if the song were made into a contemporary pop song with some more generalized lyric alterations, could get “Right in Front of Your Eyes” or “If I Told You” on the radio. Not only would the show probably still be running, but it would attract a wider audience to Broadway shows in general and to tours. Get them once, and you’ll hook them for life.
That is not to say pop forms of music shouldn’t be held to the same standards. Yes, it should be character specific. Yes, the lyrics should have exact rhymes and be poetic. Yes, it should service story, character, and plot.
When Brooklyn came on tour, I took my godson to see it. Even though it was not a great show in terms of plot, he loved it. He’s a very intelligent young man; it’s just that the music spoke to him. It sounded something like the stuff on his iPod. To David Barbour, Diana DeGarmo might have been screaming, but to my godson and to me, it was awesome, power belting much like contemporary music stars do. It’s different than Rebecca Luker stepping out and hitting high notes at the end of “My White Knight,” but that doesn’t mean it’s not as good. It’s just different.
Jekyll and Hyde is one of the few shows in the past decade with original scores that have found life beyond its stage origins. Perhaps the lyrics aren’t Cole Porter, but it seems like most people criticize the show’s music for its pop aspirations. Well, shame on Frank Wildhorn for trying to reach a contemporary audience. How dare he! Memo to me: Put an end to that ASAP.
Let’s get on to more important shows like The Drowsy Chaperone, with its admittedly well-deserved Tony for Best Score. I can’t wait until I see kids singing “Fancy Dress” at their school’s variety show.
A lot of people like power belting. That’s what made Kelly Clarkson a favorite, put Whitney Houston on the map, and allowed Celine Dion to sell album after album after album until she was a gazillionaire. Perhaps Michael John LaChiusa (from his Opera News article) doesn’t care for power belting, but listen to an audience cheer after an actress “hollers an incomprehensible” rendition of “Defying Gravity” at the end of Act I in Wicked. That speaks for itself.
Broadway musicals are in such a vulnerable position. A film or television show can survive disastrous reviews. If movies survived like Broadway shows, National Treasure would have been a huge disaster. But sadly, the costs of attending shows on Broadway or on tour are such that audiences have to observe the reviews. The average theatre-goer isn’t attuned to any potential bias against non-Sondheim types of music, so when they read that a show like The Scarlet Pimpernel or Jane Eyre or Side Show is bad, they don’t risk their hard-earned money to see it.
Aida survived because it was Elton John and Disney. I love Aida. For the record, between Broadway and the tour, I saw it three times, and when I took a group of students and teachers to go, they all loved every minute of it. Watch an average person talk about their fondness for Les Miserables. Ask some theatre kids in Chugwater, Texas, and they’ll sing to you five or six songs from Wicked. Too bad none of them know how incomprehensible it is.
According to Steven Suskin in his awesome book Broadway Yearbook 1999-2000, six out of ten of the major critics panned Aida. Suskin himself states that “[n]othing in Aida was quite enough to impel you toward the Palace—Amneris’s or the Nederlanders’.” Perhaps if there had been something to impel you toward the Palace—obviously the Tony-award winning score, Henry David Hwang’s revised book, Heather Headley, Adam Pascal, Sherie Rene Scott, Matt Bogart, Simone, Will Chase, Merle Dandridge for one performance, Idina Menzel, Mandy Gonzalez, Maya Days, Wayne Cilento’s choreography, Bob Crowley’s sets and costumes, and Natasha Katz’s lighting simply weren’t enough—it might actually have run, right?
Broadway Mouth
June 12, 2007
Note: For the record, I vote that a show containing pop music over forty years old should officially be labeled pastiche because nothing like “You Can’t Stop the Beat” has been popular since Johnny Angel got Peggy Sue pregnant after prom. I know Mordden would probably call me stupid for saying this (or perhaps a purveyor of stupid shows), but I don’t see how much different this is from the music of Thoroughly Modern Millie, a show he generally enjoyed, which utilizes pop music from 77+ years ago.
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