Showing posts with label Miss Saigon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miss Saigon. Show all posts

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

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Miss Saigon: Sixteen Years Later

It had been some time since I opened up my Miss Saigon OBCR for a listen. I was honestly never a huge fan of the show (though I did enjoy it). I saw it when I came to New York for the first time in 2000 because it was closing, and I felt like I should see it before it closed so I wouldn’t forever live in regret (after all, I was a huge Les Miserables fan).

One of my biggest memories of the evening (and this is where writing an anonymous blog comes in handy) was being horribly uncomfortable at the amount of female flesh constantly on display. As a naturally reserved person, I don’t seek out such entertainments, so it was awkward, to say the least. And the thing is, I would finally breathe a sigh of relief when the women were dressed again . . . then we’d get Stripper Kim . . . then we’d get the Engineer’s chorus girls . . . That was the only show I didn’t stage door that trip simply because I would have felt embarrassed to meet the women in the show. Okay, so I am still wet behind the ears. Anyway, moving on . . .

After the last few years of listening to lots of The Wedding Singer, The Drowsy Chaperone, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, Wicked, Hairspray, and so on, when I popped in Miss Saigon for the first time in a long while, I got a very fresh perspective on the piece.

First of all, it (and by it I mean all the "pop operas" of that time) really does feel like music from another era. The tone, content, and style couldn’t be farther removed from today.

Part of this comes from the lyrics in the show, which really do seem to range from traditional musical lyrics (like “Sun and Moon”) to the sung-dialogue (“The Fall of Saigon”). Honestly, sung dialogue rarely works for me. I would never hate a show for it, but I don’t think it is the best way to communicate in a musical. In comparison to the lyrics of Les Miserables, which are poetic in nature and less sung-dialogue-y, Miss Saigon’s lyrics often feel more like rhymes than poetic expression.

I love the candid reviews in The TheaterMania Guide to Musical Theater Recordings, but as with many theatre reviews (even casual ones on the message boards), you can’t read them without first taking into consideration the bias. Michael Portantiere clearly has an axe to grind in his review of Miss Saigon’s music, which is “Not Recommended” (preceded in the alphabet by his review of that dud Les Miserables, on which he bestows an uber-generous Two Stars . . . like anyone is going to remember that show in ten years).

I would agree that there are some pretty rough lyrics (and this became much more apparent as I’ve bought many other CDs in the past years)—take “Let Me See His Western Nose,” for example. But I think when we start dismissing such phenomenally popular shows, we’re missing the forest through the trees. After all, someone must have liked Miss Saigon for some reason.

And I think it’s important to acknowledge that whatever faults individual parts may have—however more “enlightened” I might be now after hearing much more Sondheim—I still found myself enthralled with Kim and Chris’s situation. There’s a lot of passion and agony in those lyrics, and I still love hearing Ellen’s “Now That I’ve Seen Her.” In fact, after listening to the CD once, I replayed all of Act II’s songs with Kim, Chris, John, and Ellen, which I always used to do before as well.

If forced to do a comparison, I would say that Les Miserables is a far superior show, but hearing Miss Saigon again (and afterwards, I popped in Les Miserables again as well), it made me miss those epic shows with epic themes and emotions. Why we can’t have room on Broadway for everything, I’ll never know.

I do also want to take a moment to acknowledge the important role those British shows played in the lives on American actors. In Making it on Broadway, many of the actors interviewed said that they were disappointed to realize that their significant roles in those large British shows didn’t equate into more jobs despite the challenge those characters were. Another big impression was the frustration that there are no more stars on Broadway, that it is increasingly difficult to become the next Mary Martin or John Raitt.

However, a ton of actors owe Cameron Macintosh big time for the experiences they got. Yes, no one in a replacement or tour cast became a star playing Ellen or Cossette or Christine; however, those shows, with their huge casts, gave many folks a chance to shine in great roles from great shows that they never would have gotten had a “star” name been required. And let’s be frank. The most talented people rarely become the biggest stars. Fifty years ago, how many of those Fantines would have become the next Kristin Chenoweth or Idina Menzel anyway. Statistically, not many. But because Cats, Les Miserables, Phantom of the Opera, and Miss Saigon were the star attractions instead of a star name, those talented lesser-known actors got a chance to shine. When I saw Melinda Chua as Kim, she was doing a role like Ethel Merman or Julie Andrews or Florence Henderson. If they had needed a star name for Miss Saigon, Melinda Chua wouldn’t have gotten that opportunity. Thank God she did!

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Amazing Broadway Performer: Lea Salonga

Here’s another one of those great Broadway performers I’m dying to see. Like many others, I was introduced to her work singing in the Disney movies Aladdin and Mulan. My first Broadway encounter with Lea Salonga was on the Original Broadway Cast recording of Miss Saigon, which I didn’t buy until after I saw on the show in 2000. On that CD, she’s so passionate and really gives a powerful performance. I can see why she won the Tony. When watching the video documentary The Making of Miss Saigon, it’s hard to grasp that she gave that performance at such an incredibly young age. I wish she would be given more opportunities for a greater variety of roles. If she could do that then, what could she do now?

There are many performers out there with stronger belts or even more versatility in their voices, but what makes Lea Salonga’s voice such a standout is its beauty, depth, and innocence. It has a very beautiful quality to it, which is one of the reasons why she was so perfect for “A Whole New World,” but then when you hear her work on stage, that beauty is coupled with emotional depth.

I am so incredibly thankful that Salonga’s Eponine was recorded in the 10th Anniversary concert of Les Miserables. I hadn’t even seen the show when I first saw that concert, and her deathbed scene affected me in a way no other Eponine’s has, despite that fact that I’ve seen several extraordinary Eponines live. I would also call her “On My Own” definitive.

I am a big fan of the Flower Drum Song CD, which I’ve listened to hundreds of times. There are many gems on that CD, but I think one of the shiniest is Salonga’s rendition of “Love, Look Away,” which is so excruciatingly painful to listen to when you really experience it as a character’s song.

I was ecstatic to hear that Salonga was now Fantine in Les Miserables. It’s a performance I won’t get to see, but I know she’s amazing in it.

Website: www.leasalonga.com



the Broadway Mouth
August 7, 2007