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.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Monday, July 9, 2007
Amazing Broadway Performer: Norm Lewis
I was first introduced to the Voice that is Norm Lewis from his work on Side Show, and he has quickly become one of my favorite male voices on Broadway. Not only does he have amazing depth in his voice, but he exudes power and warmth. Maybe that’s why I can’t help but feel in the second half of “You Should Be Loved” that Emily Skinner gets what she deserves after turning down a broken-hearted Norm Lewis.
Norm Lewis is high on my list of “Favorite Broadway Stars I’ve Never Seen” (which is an official list, by the way). I can’t get enough of his voice on The Wild Party (gotta love “Eddie and Mae”), and hearing his Curtis Taylor, Jr. on the Dreamgirls concert CD spoiled me; I can’t hear Jamie Foxx sing “When I First Saw You” without cringing because Lewis is so perfect for that role.
I so wanted to make it to New York to see Les Miserables because I wanted to see Lewis as Javert, and I’m so happy that he’s going to be King Triton in Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Maybe somebody in the organization will perk up and think of him as a good voice to join Anika Noni Rose in their highly anticipated traditionally animated The Princess and the Frog.
As a bonus, not only does Norm Lewis have an amazing voice, but I’ve heard from people who’ve met him about what a wonderful and nice person he is, which always magnifies any talent in my estimation.
Getting to Know You Interview: http://www.broadwayworld.com/viewcolumn.cfm?colid=12255
Broadway Mouth
July 9, 2007
Norm Lewis is high on my list of “Favorite Broadway Stars I’ve Never Seen” (which is an official list, by the way). I can’t get enough of his voice on The Wild Party (gotta love “Eddie and Mae”), and hearing his Curtis Taylor, Jr. on the Dreamgirls concert CD spoiled me; I can’t hear Jamie Foxx sing “When I First Saw You” without cringing because Lewis is so perfect for that role.
I so wanted to make it to New York to see Les Miserables because I wanted to see Lewis as Javert, and I’m so happy that he’s going to be King Triton in Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Maybe somebody in the organization will perk up and think of him as a good voice to join Anika Noni Rose in their highly anticipated traditionally animated The Princess and the Frog.
As a bonus, not only does Norm Lewis have an amazing voice, but I’ve heard from people who’ve met him about what a wonderful and nice person he is, which always magnifies any talent in my estimation.
Getting to Know You Interview: http://www.broadwayworld.com/viewcolumn.cfm?colid=12255
Broadway Mouth
July 9, 2007
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Prelude to 50 Amazing Broadway Performers in 50 Weekdays
For Friday's normal blog entry, "Broadway Revivals: The Right Canvas," please look below.
You have the book, the music, the CD, the photographs. The one thing you can never fully appreciate or duplicate as you read books about Broadway shows or listen to other people chat about them is the performance itself. If you listen to Ethel Merman on CD, you don’t get it. Seeing a snippet of her performance used in Broadway: The American Musical, you have to imagine being in a theatre in order for her voice not to be too much like a foghorn. But when you’ve seen an amazing performance, you understand a little of what it might have been like to see the Merm as Annie Oakley, Sally Adams, or Mamma Rose.
Over the next ten weeks or so, providing nothing unusual comes up, I am going to take time to write a little about my favorite performers and the amazing performances that have awed me. Each day’s entry will be saved for future reference, but on the day that I honor them, I will attempt to have a picture of them in the title rectangle of my blog. Additionally, I’ll link to any relevant websites or interviews and search for any online video of that person in performance.
Please keep in mind that my ability to post depends on a number of factors, largely work. That may mean that Monday’s blog entry might be posted at 5:00 EST, then Tuesdays could be posted on noon. I’ll do what I can. Unless something comes up where I can’t get to a computer, there will be a new entry every weekday until I hit 50.
The 50 Amazing Broadway Performers will be listed in no particular order and will be in ADDITION to my usual blog entries. If you are looking for a new performer to be listed, please also look for a new regular entry. I don’t want to be writing entries no one reads!
Broadway Mouth
July 7, 2007
You have the book, the music, the CD, the photographs. The one thing you can never fully appreciate or duplicate as you read books about Broadway shows or listen to other people chat about them is the performance itself. If you listen to Ethel Merman on CD, you don’t get it. Seeing a snippet of her performance used in Broadway: The American Musical, you have to imagine being in a theatre in order for her voice not to be too much like a foghorn. But when you’ve seen an amazing performance, you understand a little of what it might have been like to see the Merm as Annie Oakley, Sally Adams, or Mamma Rose.
Over the next ten weeks or so, providing nothing unusual comes up, I am going to take time to write a little about my favorite performers and the amazing performances that have awed me. Each day’s entry will be saved for future reference, but on the day that I honor them, I will attempt to have a picture of them in the title rectangle of my blog. Additionally, I’ll link to any relevant websites or interviews and search for any online video of that person in performance.
Please keep in mind that my ability to post depends on a number of factors, largely work. That may mean that Monday’s blog entry might be posted at 5:00 EST, then Tuesdays could be posted on noon. I’ll do what I can. Unless something comes up where I can’t get to a computer, there will be a new entry every weekday until I hit 50.
The 50 Amazing Broadway Performers will be listed in no particular order and will be in ADDITION to my usual blog entries. If you are looking for a new performer to be listed, please also look for a new regular entry. I don’t want to be writing entries no one reads!
Broadway Mouth
July 7, 2007
Friday, July 6, 2007
Broadway Revivals: The Right Canvas
Important English teacher philosophy: You breathe in by reading, and you breathe out by writing.
Writers read, and what you read influences how you write. I love reading the likes of Willa Cather and Jane Austen and Richard Wright because I learn so much and it inspires me to write things that aspire to their heights.
There’s been a lot of discussion about revivals on Broadway and how they take up space for new works. As someone who wants to write those new works, I really hope there’s plenty of space for new works. When my times comes, I don’t want to have to wait two years for a theatre to open.
At the same time, we need something to breathe in. As I said in a blog last month, I loved seeing The Color Purple and The Wedding Singer, but I still don’t think many of the big shows of today yet compare with the big shows of the past. You’ve got to have amazing, flawless works staring down at you as you write so you can ask yourself, is this even close to being as good as Kiss Me, Kate (or The Music Man or Guys and Dolls or The King and I)?
On Broadway you get the best performers, the best directors, the best choreographers. Where else but Broadway could you get Brian Stokes Mitchell as Fred Graham, Faith Prince as Ella Peterson, Kelli O’Hara as Babe Williams, or Michael Cerveris as Sweeney Todd?
There are tons of productions of any number of great classic musicals all over the country. At any given time, I can see a high school doing Anything Goes, a college doing Guys and Dolls, a community theatre doing Annie, and maybe even an Equity production of The Music Man. In fact, I’ve seen them all, but none of them have come close to seeing them on Broadway. I live in a city with a very large theatre community, but we generally get 2-5 Equity productions of great Broadway musicals a year, and there’s typically nothing to compare with the Paper Mill Playhouse or the Pasadena Playhouse.
The first time I saw The Music Man, it was at a community theatre. It was an okay show, but I didn’t walk away in awe of an amazing score or libretto. When I walked out of the Susan Stroman revival, however, I felt like I had seen a spectacular show.
That’s because nobody does it like Broadway. Seeing a community theatre production of Oliver! is comparable to watching an epic film like Gone With the Wind on DVD. It’s better than not seeing it at all, but it’s the way the show was meant to be seen.
Not only does Broadway do them better, Broadway provides opportunities for shows to get produced that wouldn’t otherwise be seen. I think I could die without ever seeing a middling local production of Bells are Ringing; Kiss Me, Kate; The Pajama Game; Sweet Charity; 110 in the Shade; and a host of others, let alone a first-class Broadway production surrounded by first-class Equity talent.
In fact, I wish people like Tommy Tune who, in the Rick McKay documentary DVD, complain about revivals taking up New York theatres, would put their money where their mouths are and direct great touring productions of classic shows that haven’t been tampered with (like the Michael York Camelot was revised). He could give us Broadway names in Call Me Madam, Gypsy, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and a host of other shows that would help fill out the gaps between great new Broadway shows coming into town on tour.
The good news is that all Broadway musicals are a gamble. You have the revivals that make money, like Kiss Me, Kate and A Chorus Line, but then you have those that don’t run long and probably don’t make money—Wonderful Town, Sweet Charity, Bells are Ringing. So, people get a chance to see these amazing shows, they run their season, and they generally quickly open up space for new productions, just like new shows do the same thing.
Mame is a Broadway musical, and it was meant to be seen on Broadway. You can see the Mona Lisa in a book, but if you are really passionate about experiencing and studying art, you don’t settle for a book in the library. If new creators want more new musicals, then they need to create shows that deserve that space, both to inspire the next generation of writers and to delight audiences to keep them coming back to Broadway. Until then, revivals play an important part not only in providing opportunities to see these great shows in the way they were meant to be seen but also in allowing the next generation of creators to learn from them.
Broadway Mouth
July 6, 2007
Writers read, and what you read influences how you write. I love reading the likes of Willa Cather and Jane Austen and Richard Wright because I learn so much and it inspires me to write things that aspire to their heights.
There’s been a lot of discussion about revivals on Broadway and how they take up space for new works. As someone who wants to write those new works, I really hope there’s plenty of space for new works. When my times comes, I don’t want to have to wait two years for a theatre to open.
At the same time, we need something to breathe in. As I said in a blog last month, I loved seeing The Color Purple and The Wedding Singer, but I still don’t think many of the big shows of today yet compare with the big shows of the past. You’ve got to have amazing, flawless works staring down at you as you write so you can ask yourself, is this even close to being as good as Kiss Me, Kate (or The Music Man or Guys and Dolls or The King and I)?
On Broadway you get the best performers, the best directors, the best choreographers. Where else but Broadway could you get Brian Stokes Mitchell as Fred Graham, Faith Prince as Ella Peterson, Kelli O’Hara as Babe Williams, or Michael Cerveris as Sweeney Todd?
There are tons of productions of any number of great classic musicals all over the country. At any given time, I can see a high school doing Anything Goes, a college doing Guys and Dolls, a community theatre doing Annie, and maybe even an Equity production of The Music Man. In fact, I’ve seen them all, but none of them have come close to seeing them on Broadway. I live in a city with a very large theatre community, but we generally get 2-5 Equity productions of great Broadway musicals a year, and there’s typically nothing to compare with the Paper Mill Playhouse or the Pasadena Playhouse.
The first time I saw The Music Man, it was at a community theatre. It was an okay show, but I didn’t walk away in awe of an amazing score or libretto. When I walked out of the Susan Stroman revival, however, I felt like I had seen a spectacular show.
That’s because nobody does it like Broadway. Seeing a community theatre production of Oliver! is comparable to watching an epic film like Gone With the Wind on DVD. It’s better than not seeing it at all, but it’s the way the show was meant to be seen.
Not only does Broadway do them better, Broadway provides opportunities for shows to get produced that wouldn’t otherwise be seen. I think I could die without ever seeing a middling local production of Bells are Ringing; Kiss Me, Kate; The Pajama Game; Sweet Charity; 110 in the Shade; and a host of others, let alone a first-class Broadway production surrounded by first-class Equity talent.
In fact, I wish people like Tommy Tune who, in the Rick McKay documentary DVD, complain about revivals taking up New York theatres, would put their money where their mouths are and direct great touring productions of classic shows that haven’t been tampered with (like the Michael York Camelot was revised). He could give us Broadway names in Call Me Madam, Gypsy, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and a host of other shows that would help fill out the gaps between great new Broadway shows coming into town on tour.
The good news is that all Broadway musicals are a gamble. You have the revivals that make money, like Kiss Me, Kate and A Chorus Line, but then you have those that don’t run long and probably don’t make money—Wonderful Town, Sweet Charity, Bells are Ringing. So, people get a chance to see these amazing shows, they run their season, and they generally quickly open up space for new productions, just like new shows do the same thing.
Mame is a Broadway musical, and it was meant to be seen on Broadway. You can see the Mona Lisa in a book, but if you are really passionate about experiencing and studying art, you don’t settle for a book in the library. If new creators want more new musicals, then they need to create shows that deserve that space, both to inspire the next generation of writers and to delight audiences to keep them coming back to Broadway. Until then, revivals play an important part not only in providing opportunities to see these great shows in the way they were meant to be seen but also in allowing the next generation of creators to learn from them.
Broadway Mouth
July 6, 2007
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Show Business: The Road You Didn't Take to Broadway
If you could wear out a DVD, I would have long ago worn out the DVDs of the two great Broadway documentaries—Rick McKay’s Broadway: The Golden Age and Michael Kantor’s PBS Broadway: The American Musical. Because of that, I was supremely excited to see the Dori Berinstein film Show Business: The Road to Broadway when it finally made its way to a theater near me. When it hits DVD, hopefully with a good amount of bonus material, I have a feeling it too will get the re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-watching treatment as well.
As many have said before, yes, the film itself doesn’t offer any tremendous amount of insight into the Broadway theatre world, partially because I was following theatre closely during the 2003-2004 season and because I am aware of all the difficulties of getting a show on Broadway and making it stay there. That is not to say, though, that Show Business: The Road to Broadway isn’t a must-see for anyone even remotely interested in theatre and one I wish all casual theatre-goers would see to help them appreciate the art form. Of particular interest are the perspectives of critics and gossip columnists interviewed for the film, which helps shed some light on what the heck they are thinking as they critique and what pressures they face from their reviewing peers. Needless to say, I can’t wait for the DVD.
The biggest thing the movie did for me, though, is to remind me exactly what the road to Broadway is. Sometimes I forget what following your dreams is supposed to be like. Seeing Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx in Show Business: The Road to Broadway reminded me that the road to Broadway is paved with good intentions and a lot of pain and frustration. I forget the exact details of their stories, but they essentially held a lot of dumb jobs, lost them often, and struggled like artists tend to struggle.
Now, for the record, I’ve never lost a job. In fact, I tend to get people asking me to reconsider my resignation or telling me that they are sad to see me go. But I’ve held my fair share of “I am capable of so much more” jobs, just like Lopez and Marx did. This past Christmas, I worked in the stock room of a big box retailer, which was the epitome of brainless, mind-numbing work that left me at one point contemplating, “Would it be better to finish out my shift or to maim myself with a sippy cup?” It was a tough choice, but I really was greatly thankful for the paycheck that that job provided to supplement my substitute teaching job during the day. I just hope I can look back and say that my road to Broadway was paved with big box retailers.
I love David Wienir and Jodie Langel’s book Making It on Broadway, which I very highly recommend if you haven’t read it yet. Collecting interviews from a number of both significant and working class Broadway talents, Wienir and Langel present a vividly real picture of the Broadway life, both before and after “the big break.” You get the stories of the first apartments—roach-infested cubicles in scary areas of the city—and stories of life after the show closes—such as topping off a great role in Cats by having to dress in a cat costume and performing at birthday parties while Mom gives you direction on how to do what you were just paid big bucks to do and were grandly applauded for doing. Yes indeed, Mr. Berlin, there is no business like show business.
But then, face it, what would be a good success story if the person graduated from college, made all the right choices, then became an overnight sensation and won the Tony by age 25?
Last week I attended a recital for a friend raising money, and there I met up with a college theatre friend I hadn’t seen for quite some time. An extremely talented actor, this friend had some success with an upstart theatre group but is now focusing his efforts on other very worthwhile causes. One by one, these very talented theatre folk I know have chosen other roads in life. I don’t blame them. My gosh, I’m thrilled for them. It’s not an honor to stand at a gathering and say, “Yeah, I quit my job to follow a dream in a manner that I thoroughly researched and prepared for but hasn’t come to fruition, so I’m stuck here instead of being there, doing a temporary job that brings only dissatisfaction and frustration.” Maturing doesn’t mean holding onto childhood whims, it means realizing what’s important in life and going for it—whether that’s at a 9-5 job or whether it means aiming for a road less traveled.
At the same time, as frustrated as I get, I guess I’m like so many other people who go for broke to pursue their dreams. I’m happy with the choices I’ve made. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m happy with the choices I’ve made, but I’m happy nonetheless. When I turn fifty, I won’t have to wonder if the dreams I never dared are dead.
That’s why when I hear the news that a great Broadway talent like Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Norbert Leo Butz, or Audra McDonald land a television show, I’m so happy for them. Yes, it would be tragic if Audra McDonald were to star in a television show for eleven years, but I don’t know if I can criticize someone for wanting job stability or for wanting to become a big Broadway star via television. The sad truth is that if you come to Broadway via Los Angeles, it’s much easier to get meaty roles. Somewhere recently I read that Audra McDonald wanted to do a revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof but knew that she wouldn’t have the name to do it. How sad that she was passed up for Beyonce, who, after how many films, finally just learned the definition of the word acting in the film of Dreamgirls. The devastating reality is that if McDonald were to be a big television star, she could come in for a summer and do a big show. She could be stunt casting. Instead of Melanie Griffth in Chicago, we could have Audra McDonald. She may not be a dancer, but then again, these days, what star of Chicago is?
Even if Norbert Leo Butz appears for two or three seasons on a stinky Fox sitcom, he could return to Broadway with a stronger ability to originate roles.
For the modern Broadway star, Los Angeles becomes an all-important detour. Nathan Lane, Kristin Chenoweth, and Alan Cumming have all enjoyed great success on stage because of their Los Angeles detours. Yes, Lane had The Producers to propel him into Broadway super-stardom and Chenoweth had Wicked, but that’s because the rest of the country knew them from movie roles and failed sitcoms. People knew Lane from The Lion King, Mouse Hunt, Stuart Little, and all those other generally forgettable roles in generally forgettable movies, so when there was this talk of this stupendous new hit on Broadway, they paid attention because they knew the name.
Sometimes, like the three above, we get them back, other times, we lose them entirely or almost entirely—John Travolta, Kevin Kline, and Marilu Henner all come to mind. But we do need to face the fact that part of the problem lies within ourselves. The Broadway community needs to respect its own self before anyone will respect it.
Look at what happens. You have the Tony Awards, which spends ¾ of the evening proving to the country that because Hollywood validates Broadway, then Broadway is valid. If someone appears on stage opposite of Cheryl Ladd or Reba McEntire or some other big outside star, they list it in their Playbill bios. No one would say, “Beast in Beauty and the Beast (w/ Kerry Butler)” but they would mention Toni Braxton, as if performing with Braxton is any more impressive than performing with Susan Egan or Sarah Uriarte Berry.
It particularly bothers me when people go overboard praising Hollywood talent because they are Hollywood talent. I never saw Reba in Annie Get Your Gun. I was in New York at the time, but because the show was coming on tour, I wanted to see something I wouldn’t get to see at home. I recently watched her “I Got the Sun in the Morning” on Blue Gobo, and she clearly is very talented, but her dancing was pretty stunt-casting quality. I can’t honestly evaluate her overall performance because I didn’t see her, but to say she was better than Bernadette Peters who could act, sing, and dance the role seems a little starry-eyed Other-World awe to me.
Similarly, I remember Chita Rivera praising Antonio Banderas on the Tony Awards, saying something to the effect of what a joy it was to see him making such progress in the show. So . . . when everyone else was falling over themselves trying to say enough words to praise Banderas, was it because he was truly Broadway quality or was it based on the fact that someone of his caliber was stooping down to do little old Broadway?
We have to get to the point where talent is what matters most. Yes, Broadway producers need to get butts in the seats, but if we (as in die-hard Broadway fans) are so awed by a cocktail of Hollywood name and/or sex appeal, then why shouldn’t the producers be too? Is stunt casting bad unless it’s Joey Lawrence because he’s got muscle?
I saw Christina Applegate very early in her time as Charity before she hit Broadway. I will say I was very impressed with how she tackled the role. She had the right amount of charm and perky cuteness for the role, and for a non-dancer, she really moved on that stage to beat the band. She would have been amazing in a film version. However, she lacked the stage presence of any number of very talented “no name” performers I’ve seen—Kim Huber, JoAnn M. Hunter, Darcie Roberts, Andrea Rivette—and from the New York reviews I read, she didn’t seem to become Amy Spanger overnight. Okay, so I know we can’t all be Amy Spanger, but Applegate got a Tony nomination. Christina Applegate gave a great performance, but it was not up to par with many other great performances I’ve seen, and I can’t believe that there weren’t a number of other dynamic performers that season who gave great performances and had stage presence.
I have honestly felt that I would have a much more likely chance of getting a show on Broadway if I could spend five or six years writing for a middling sitcom. If I were to call up one of the big producers on Broadway and say, “Hi, I’m so-and-so, and I wrote for show XYZ,” I’d not only get heard but would actually get somewhere. Why? Because people on Broadway feel honored when Hollywood folk “stoop down” to their level. Look at Mel Brooks. He gets washed up in Hollywood, and everyone is ecstatic when he rehashes his past successes with inserted song and dance.
This is not to say that we shouldn’t applaud talent from wherever it comes. In her second Tony acceptance speech, Christine Ebersole basically acknowledged that she came back to New York because Hollywood didn’t want her anymore. Similarly, Hugh Jackman got his start on the stage and was by all accounts a true stage presence in The Boy From Oz. And even though performers like Sandy Duncan and Marilu Henner left Broadway for Hollywood and have not established themselves as contemporary Broadway regulars, they are true Broadway talents and their pre-sitcom Playbill credits prove their talent.
I don’t even have an issue with the flood from American Idol. I saw Diane DeGarmo as Brooklyn, and that girl’s got some real talent. She may have come from television, but she’s very talented. The fact that her first big audition was televised doesn’t make it any less impressive of a talent than Ashley Brown, another young performer who made it big while young because of talent.
And that’s what should count on Broadway—talent. I’m less interested in the road that people take to get to Broadway than I am in what they’ve got while they’re there and how dedicated they are to the craft.
In my dream world, at some point I get a show on television that can be filmed in New York. In fact, I’m in the midst of creating a tween type of show (think Hannah Montana but funny) that will probably never see the light of day, but my goal was to have it produced in New York. I wanted a specific Broadway star to play a reoccurring role, then guest bits and one-time shot characters could culled be from the Broadway ranks. Not only would this provide income to help supplement the life of actors, but it would help create Broadway names so that when families came to New York, little Sally might say, “The mom from that sitcom is in that show; I want to see it!” So instead of seeing a first-rate television star giving a third-rate Broadway performance, there could be a first-rate Broadway star with television credits giving a first-rate Broadway performance.
Any job in show business is a tough one to get and to keep. For every starving artist who hits it big just before being foreclosed upon, God only knows how many there are who never get that big job. Sadly, sometimes to get that big job, these days a theatre star could use the help of some Los Angeles street cred on their road to Broadway. So why shouldn’t we cheer our Broadway talents when they land a big role on a television show? Sadly, we may never see Norbert Leo Butz again (or Heather Headley or Marissa Jaret Winokur or Sara Ramirez), but perhaps he’s just taking the advice of his own community—you’ve only really made it on your road to Broadway when you’ve made it in Hollywood.
Broadway Mouth
July 3, 2007
As many have said before, yes, the film itself doesn’t offer any tremendous amount of insight into the Broadway theatre world, partially because I was following theatre closely during the 2003-2004 season and because I am aware of all the difficulties of getting a show on Broadway and making it stay there. That is not to say, though, that Show Business: The Road to Broadway isn’t a must-see for anyone even remotely interested in theatre and one I wish all casual theatre-goers would see to help them appreciate the art form. Of particular interest are the perspectives of critics and gossip columnists interviewed for the film, which helps shed some light on what the heck they are thinking as they critique and what pressures they face from their reviewing peers. Needless to say, I can’t wait for the DVD.
The biggest thing the movie did for me, though, is to remind me exactly what the road to Broadway is. Sometimes I forget what following your dreams is supposed to be like. Seeing Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx in Show Business: The Road to Broadway reminded me that the road to Broadway is paved with good intentions and a lot of pain and frustration. I forget the exact details of their stories, but they essentially held a lot of dumb jobs, lost them often, and struggled like artists tend to struggle.
Now, for the record, I’ve never lost a job. In fact, I tend to get people asking me to reconsider my resignation or telling me that they are sad to see me go. But I’ve held my fair share of “I am capable of so much more” jobs, just like Lopez and Marx did. This past Christmas, I worked in the stock room of a big box retailer, which was the epitome of brainless, mind-numbing work that left me at one point contemplating, “Would it be better to finish out my shift or to maim myself with a sippy cup?” It was a tough choice, but I really was greatly thankful for the paycheck that that job provided to supplement my substitute teaching job during the day. I just hope I can look back and say that my road to Broadway was paved with big box retailers.
I love David Wienir and Jodie Langel’s book Making It on Broadway, which I very highly recommend if you haven’t read it yet. Collecting interviews from a number of both significant and working class Broadway talents, Wienir and Langel present a vividly real picture of the Broadway life, both before and after “the big break.” You get the stories of the first apartments—roach-infested cubicles in scary areas of the city—and stories of life after the show closes—such as topping off a great role in Cats by having to dress in a cat costume and performing at birthday parties while Mom gives you direction on how to do what you were just paid big bucks to do and were grandly applauded for doing. Yes indeed, Mr. Berlin, there is no business like show business.
But then, face it, what would be a good success story if the person graduated from college, made all the right choices, then became an overnight sensation and won the Tony by age 25?
Last week I attended a recital for a friend raising money, and there I met up with a college theatre friend I hadn’t seen for quite some time. An extremely talented actor, this friend had some success with an upstart theatre group but is now focusing his efforts on other very worthwhile causes. One by one, these very talented theatre folk I know have chosen other roads in life. I don’t blame them. My gosh, I’m thrilled for them. It’s not an honor to stand at a gathering and say, “Yeah, I quit my job to follow a dream in a manner that I thoroughly researched and prepared for but hasn’t come to fruition, so I’m stuck here instead of being there, doing a temporary job that brings only dissatisfaction and frustration.” Maturing doesn’t mean holding onto childhood whims, it means realizing what’s important in life and going for it—whether that’s at a 9-5 job or whether it means aiming for a road less traveled.
At the same time, as frustrated as I get, I guess I’m like so many other people who go for broke to pursue their dreams. I’m happy with the choices I’ve made. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m happy with the choices I’ve made, but I’m happy nonetheless. When I turn fifty, I won’t have to wonder if the dreams I never dared are dead.
That’s why when I hear the news that a great Broadway talent like Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Norbert Leo Butz, or Audra McDonald land a television show, I’m so happy for them. Yes, it would be tragic if Audra McDonald were to star in a television show for eleven years, but I don’t know if I can criticize someone for wanting job stability or for wanting to become a big Broadway star via television. The sad truth is that if you come to Broadway via Los Angeles, it’s much easier to get meaty roles. Somewhere recently I read that Audra McDonald wanted to do a revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof but knew that she wouldn’t have the name to do it. How sad that she was passed up for Beyonce, who, after how many films, finally just learned the definition of the word acting in the film of Dreamgirls. The devastating reality is that if McDonald were to be a big television star, she could come in for a summer and do a big show. She could be stunt casting. Instead of Melanie Griffth in Chicago, we could have Audra McDonald. She may not be a dancer, but then again, these days, what star of Chicago is?
Even if Norbert Leo Butz appears for two or three seasons on a stinky Fox sitcom, he could return to Broadway with a stronger ability to originate roles.
For the modern Broadway star, Los Angeles becomes an all-important detour. Nathan Lane, Kristin Chenoweth, and Alan Cumming have all enjoyed great success on stage because of their Los Angeles detours. Yes, Lane had The Producers to propel him into Broadway super-stardom and Chenoweth had Wicked, but that’s because the rest of the country knew them from movie roles and failed sitcoms. People knew Lane from The Lion King, Mouse Hunt, Stuart Little, and all those other generally forgettable roles in generally forgettable movies, so when there was this talk of this stupendous new hit on Broadway, they paid attention because they knew the name.
Sometimes, like the three above, we get them back, other times, we lose them entirely or almost entirely—John Travolta, Kevin Kline, and Marilu Henner all come to mind. But we do need to face the fact that part of the problem lies within ourselves. The Broadway community needs to respect its own self before anyone will respect it.
Look at what happens. You have the Tony Awards, which spends ¾ of the evening proving to the country that because Hollywood validates Broadway, then Broadway is valid. If someone appears on stage opposite of Cheryl Ladd or Reba McEntire or some other big outside star, they list it in their Playbill bios. No one would say, “Beast in Beauty and the Beast (w/ Kerry Butler)” but they would mention Toni Braxton, as if performing with Braxton is any more impressive than performing with Susan Egan or Sarah Uriarte Berry.
It particularly bothers me when people go overboard praising Hollywood talent because they are Hollywood talent. I never saw Reba in Annie Get Your Gun. I was in New York at the time, but because the show was coming on tour, I wanted to see something I wouldn’t get to see at home. I recently watched her “I Got the Sun in the Morning” on Blue Gobo, and she clearly is very talented, but her dancing was pretty stunt-casting quality. I can’t honestly evaluate her overall performance because I didn’t see her, but to say she was better than Bernadette Peters who could act, sing, and dance the role seems a little starry-eyed Other-World awe to me.
Similarly, I remember Chita Rivera praising Antonio Banderas on the Tony Awards, saying something to the effect of what a joy it was to see him making such progress in the show. So . . . when everyone else was falling over themselves trying to say enough words to praise Banderas, was it because he was truly Broadway quality or was it based on the fact that someone of his caliber was stooping down to do little old Broadway?
We have to get to the point where talent is what matters most. Yes, Broadway producers need to get butts in the seats, but if we (as in die-hard Broadway fans) are so awed by a cocktail of Hollywood name and/or sex appeal, then why shouldn’t the producers be too? Is stunt casting bad unless it’s Joey Lawrence because he’s got muscle?
I saw Christina Applegate very early in her time as Charity before she hit Broadway. I will say I was very impressed with how she tackled the role. She had the right amount of charm and perky cuteness for the role, and for a non-dancer, she really moved on that stage to beat the band. She would have been amazing in a film version. However, she lacked the stage presence of any number of very talented “no name” performers I’ve seen—Kim Huber, JoAnn M. Hunter, Darcie Roberts, Andrea Rivette—and from the New York reviews I read, she didn’t seem to become Amy Spanger overnight. Okay, so I know we can’t all be Amy Spanger, but Applegate got a Tony nomination. Christina Applegate gave a great performance, but it was not up to par with many other great performances I’ve seen, and I can’t believe that there weren’t a number of other dynamic performers that season who gave great performances and had stage presence.
I have honestly felt that I would have a much more likely chance of getting a show on Broadway if I could spend five or six years writing for a middling sitcom. If I were to call up one of the big producers on Broadway and say, “Hi, I’m so-and-so, and I wrote for show XYZ,” I’d not only get heard but would actually get somewhere. Why? Because people on Broadway feel honored when Hollywood folk “stoop down” to their level. Look at Mel Brooks. He gets washed up in Hollywood, and everyone is ecstatic when he rehashes his past successes with inserted song and dance.
This is not to say that we shouldn’t applaud talent from wherever it comes. In her second Tony acceptance speech, Christine Ebersole basically acknowledged that she came back to New York because Hollywood didn’t want her anymore. Similarly, Hugh Jackman got his start on the stage and was by all accounts a true stage presence in The Boy From Oz. And even though performers like Sandy Duncan and Marilu Henner left Broadway for Hollywood and have not established themselves as contemporary Broadway regulars, they are true Broadway talents and their pre-sitcom Playbill credits prove their talent.
I don’t even have an issue with the flood from American Idol. I saw Diane DeGarmo as Brooklyn, and that girl’s got some real talent. She may have come from television, but she’s very talented. The fact that her first big audition was televised doesn’t make it any less impressive of a talent than Ashley Brown, another young performer who made it big while young because of talent.
And that’s what should count on Broadway—talent. I’m less interested in the road that people take to get to Broadway than I am in what they’ve got while they’re there and how dedicated they are to the craft.
In my dream world, at some point I get a show on television that can be filmed in New York. In fact, I’m in the midst of creating a tween type of show (think Hannah Montana but funny) that will probably never see the light of day, but my goal was to have it produced in New York. I wanted a specific Broadway star to play a reoccurring role, then guest bits and one-time shot characters could culled be from the Broadway ranks. Not only would this provide income to help supplement the life of actors, but it would help create Broadway names so that when families came to New York, little Sally might say, “The mom from that sitcom is in that show; I want to see it!” So instead of seeing a first-rate television star giving a third-rate Broadway performance, there could be a first-rate Broadway star with television credits giving a first-rate Broadway performance.
Any job in show business is a tough one to get and to keep. For every starving artist who hits it big just before being foreclosed upon, God only knows how many there are who never get that big job. Sadly, sometimes to get that big job, these days a theatre star could use the help of some Los Angeles street cred on their road to Broadway. So why shouldn’t we cheer our Broadway talents when they land a big role on a television show? Sadly, we may never see Norbert Leo Butz again (or Heather Headley or Marissa Jaret Winokur or Sara Ramirez), but perhaps he’s just taking the advice of his own community—you’ve only really made it on your road to Broadway when you’ve made it in Hollywood.
Broadway Mouth
July 3, 2007
Monday, July 2, 2007
Follies Footage
To read my latest blog entry "From the Mouth of Alan Jay Lerner," please look below.
To help my readers appreciate some of my comments on the Sondheim show Follies (written about in "The Road They Didn't Take: Fixing Follies" below), I thought I'd include this great footage from Blue Gobo, complete with Yvonne DeCarlo forgetting the lyrics!
To help my readers appreciate some of my comments on the Sondheim show Follies (written about in "The Road They Didn't Take: Fixing Follies" below), I thought I'd include this great footage from Blue Gobo, complete with Yvonne DeCarlo forgetting the lyrics!
Sunday, July 1, 2007
From the Mouth of Alan Jay Lerner
When I wrote the blog entry “A Hundred Million Miracles,” I did so because I wanted to share something exciting I had found with the people who read my blog. I am very thankful to those who upload footage onto You Tube and Blue Gobo because it’s all about education. The more I can see of, say, Gwen Verdon from the original Sweet Charity, the more I can learn. Theatre is a living art form. You can gain much from reading about the great performances and from hearing first hand accounts, but until you see Heather Headley and Adam Pascal singing “Elaborate Lives” or see Gower Champion’s original “Before the Parade Passes By” choreography, you can never fully understand.
So below, I’ve scanned in the foreword to the published Paint Your Wagon libretto from which I quoted in my “Hello and Faux” blog entry. It is entitled “Advice to Young Musical Writers” and is written by Alan Jay Lerner himself. Reading this article really gave me perspective on a number of the current trends on Broadway.
The longer I study Broadway, how true it seems to me that the more things change, the more they stay the same. In the Rick McKay documentary Broadway: The Golden Age and on the DVD bonus features, a number of significant theatre folk acknowledge that people have been bemoaning the state of Broadway since the 1970s. In looking at this article, it’s clear that people have been bemoaning the state of Broadway much longer . . . even in the midst of the great Golden Age.
So I propose that we limit complaining, continue learning, continue creating, and continue to fight the good fight of getting a great show on Broadway.
Advice to Young Musical Writers
by Alan Jay Lerner
In recent years there has been an ever-increasing number of adaptations in the theater and, by consequence, a steady decline of original works. This has been especially-true of the musical play (musical play as opposed to musical comedy). There have actually been only three successful original musical plays in the last decade. This dearth has frequently been mentioned in the press, and when it has been, it has always been accompanied by a mournful cry for more fresh creation. As one who has written four originals, the one between these covers included, let me hereby warn all aspiring authors and composers to stuff their ears with cotton and pay no heed to this soulful wail. No one, neither critic nor public, is clamoring for originality. The only desire is for something good. And to be good is quite original enough. If you create a total work that finds general acceptance, no mention will be made of what you have done. If it's unsuccessful, no one will commend you for your effort and encourage you to continue. All this I can state as a positive fact. And though it may seem edged with bitterness, I can assure you it is not. I have always been fully aware of the folly of that end of my endeavor and have often cursed the ambition that drives me. But with it all, my rewards in the musical field have been far in excess of what I truthfully feel I have contributed. No, my reasons for the above advice are sound and practical and come from one who loves his trade and has deep respect for it as a medium of expression.
The lyric theater is the one, and only one, true invention that has been made in theatrical form for many years. It is also a purely American creation; so American, in fact, is this subtle interweaving of word, song, and dance, that no other country has even been able to approach it. Because it is new, it also has great possibilities for development. And with a public that is searching for escape almost more avidly than it did during the war, there is a large, waiting audience. But there is also a problem. And this problem is a serious one. The spank in the machine is that there are very few people writing musicals. I don't believe there are more than a dozen composers, librettists, and lyricists in all who are regular practitioners and who have committed their careers to the musical stage. Not only that, but of that number no more than three, possibly four, have been developed in the past ten years. The rest have been the backbone of our musical theater since the twenties and early thirties.
There are a myriad of reasons why this should be so. The most important one, however, is economic. Although there are many struggling neophytes composing musical plays, the cost of production these days is so astronomical that investors are reluctant to trust their funds to any but the tried and true. The hazard is further increased by the fact that the cost of attending a musical has risen so that although there is a public longing for entertainment, people are unwilling to risk the price of a ticket unless they have been assured by the press that the evening will be a rewarding one. This means there is no room for the moderate success. A musical show is either a smash hit or it will invariably be a financial failure. And to increase the hazard even more, favorable notices by a majority of the eight New York critics are not sufficient. There are two of the eight writing for the daily press who must be pleased above all. Survival without their blessing is relatively impossible; even though survival with their blessing is not absolutely guaranteed. All of this naturally has immediate effects on the economic and emotional plight of the author and composer. How long can they continue writing without seeing production of, and receiving remuneration for, their efforts? Where do they make mistakes and thus learn? And how long can anyone endure without some sign of encouragement?
And so I return to my early thesis. With the risks being what they are—and I have only mentioned a few of the multitude—your chances not only of reaching production but achieving success will be inestimably enhanced if you begin with a book, a short story, a motion picture, or a play that has already been approved by public and critic alike. The value of the basic story cannot be exaggerated. There is often a general tendency to regard the book of a musical as of little consequence. This is especially true when the musical is a success. But let the opening night be a two and a half hour wake and you will read the next morning how neither the cast, the music, the scenery, nor the dancing was able to overcome the inept plot. I can tell you the book is all-essential. It is the fountain from which all waters spring. So start off on the right foot and select a story that is all prepared for you. The translation of that story to musical form is quite complex enough. Within that frame you will find more than adequate challenge to your originality and enough on which to experiment.
January 25, 1952
Originally published as a foreword to the published libretto of Paint Your Wagon
MLA Citation Information:
Lerner, Alan Jay. Foreword. Paint Your Wagon. Coward-McCann, 1952. vii-ix.
(Blogger doesn't allow for underlining, but please be aware that MLA requires titles of plays to be underlined instead of italicized.)
Please Note: I would just like to acknowledge that I am a big fan of copyrights, having ownership of a few of them myself. My intent in posting this piece of copyrighted work is solely education. I make no money from this blog. Since it has been long out of print, I trust that by posting it, I am not taking away from any earning potential from those who own the copyright.
I would be a happy camper if I got an email saying that this essay was going to be collected into a new collection of articles about Broadway over the past century, and therefore, I needed to remove it; however, since that seems sadly unlikely, I make it available. If you are the owner of this copyright and would like me to remove it, please contact me.
Broadway Mouth
July 1, 2007
So below, I’ve scanned in the foreword to the published Paint Your Wagon libretto from which I quoted in my “Hello and Faux” blog entry. It is entitled “Advice to Young Musical Writers” and is written by Alan Jay Lerner himself. Reading this article really gave me perspective on a number of the current trends on Broadway.
The longer I study Broadway, how true it seems to me that the more things change, the more they stay the same. In the Rick McKay documentary Broadway: The Golden Age and on the DVD bonus features, a number of significant theatre folk acknowledge that people have been bemoaning the state of Broadway since the 1970s. In looking at this article, it’s clear that people have been bemoaning the state of Broadway much longer . . . even in the midst of the great Golden Age.
So I propose that we limit complaining, continue learning, continue creating, and continue to fight the good fight of getting a great show on Broadway.
Advice to Young Musical Writers
by Alan Jay Lerner
In recent years there has been an ever-increasing number of adaptations in the theater and, by consequence, a steady decline of original works. This has been especially-true of the musical play (musical play as opposed to musical comedy). There have actually been only three successful original musical plays in the last decade. This dearth has frequently been mentioned in the press, and when it has been, it has always been accompanied by a mournful cry for more fresh creation. As one who has written four originals, the one between these covers included, let me hereby warn all aspiring authors and composers to stuff their ears with cotton and pay no heed to this soulful wail. No one, neither critic nor public, is clamoring for originality. The only desire is for something good. And to be good is quite original enough. If you create a total work that finds general acceptance, no mention will be made of what you have done. If it's unsuccessful, no one will commend you for your effort and encourage you to continue. All this I can state as a positive fact. And though it may seem edged with bitterness, I can assure you it is not. I have always been fully aware of the folly of that end of my endeavor and have often cursed the ambition that drives me. But with it all, my rewards in the musical field have been far in excess of what I truthfully feel I have contributed. No, my reasons for the above advice are sound and practical and come from one who loves his trade and has deep respect for it as a medium of expression.
The lyric theater is the one, and only one, true invention that has been made in theatrical form for many years. It is also a purely American creation; so American, in fact, is this subtle interweaving of word, song, and dance, that no other country has even been able to approach it. Because it is new, it also has great possibilities for development. And with a public that is searching for escape almost more avidly than it did during the war, there is a large, waiting audience. But there is also a problem. And this problem is a serious one. The spank in the machine is that there are very few people writing musicals. I don't believe there are more than a dozen composers, librettists, and lyricists in all who are regular practitioners and who have committed their careers to the musical stage. Not only that, but of that number no more than three, possibly four, have been developed in the past ten years. The rest have been the backbone of our musical theater since the twenties and early thirties.
There are a myriad of reasons why this should be so. The most important one, however, is economic. Although there are many struggling neophytes composing musical plays, the cost of production these days is so astronomical that investors are reluctant to trust their funds to any but the tried and true. The hazard is further increased by the fact that the cost of attending a musical has risen so that although there is a public longing for entertainment, people are unwilling to risk the price of a ticket unless they have been assured by the press that the evening will be a rewarding one. This means there is no room for the moderate success. A musical show is either a smash hit or it will invariably be a financial failure. And to increase the hazard even more, favorable notices by a majority of the eight New York critics are not sufficient. There are two of the eight writing for the daily press who must be pleased above all. Survival without their blessing is relatively impossible; even though survival with their blessing is not absolutely guaranteed. All of this naturally has immediate effects on the economic and emotional plight of the author and composer. How long can they continue writing without seeing production of, and receiving remuneration for, their efforts? Where do they make mistakes and thus learn? And how long can anyone endure without some sign of encouragement?
And so I return to my early thesis. With the risks being what they are—and I have only mentioned a few of the multitude—your chances not only of reaching production but achieving success will be inestimably enhanced if you begin with a book, a short story, a motion picture, or a play that has already been approved by public and critic alike. The value of the basic story cannot be exaggerated. There is often a general tendency to regard the book of a musical as of little consequence. This is especially true when the musical is a success. But let the opening night be a two and a half hour wake and you will read the next morning how neither the cast, the music, the scenery, nor the dancing was able to overcome the inept plot. I can tell you the book is all-essential. It is the fountain from which all waters spring. So start off on the right foot and select a story that is all prepared for you. The translation of that story to musical form is quite complex enough. Within that frame you will find more than adequate challenge to your originality and enough on which to experiment.
January 25, 1952
Originally published as a foreword to the published libretto of Paint Your Wagon
MLA Citation Information:
Lerner, Alan Jay. Foreword. Paint Your Wagon. Coward-McCann, 1952. vii-ix.
(Blogger doesn't allow for underlining, but please be aware that MLA requires titles of plays to be underlined instead of italicized.)
Please Note: I would just like to acknowledge that I am a big fan of copyrights, having ownership of a few of them myself. My intent in posting this piece of copyrighted work is solely education. I make no money from this blog. Since it has been long out of print, I trust that by posting it, I am not taking away from any earning potential from those who own the copyright.
I would be a happy camper if I got an email saying that this essay was going to be collected into a new collection of articles about Broadway over the past century, and therefore, I needed to remove it; however, since that seems sadly unlikely, I make it available. If you are the owner of this copyright and would like me to remove it, please contact me.
Broadway Mouth
July 1, 2007
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