Born Yesterday

Born Yesterday, by Garson Kanin
Guthrie Theatre, Minneapolis, MN
December 5, 2013

Synopsis (from the Guthrie website):
A Broadway triumph-turned-1950 Academy Award-nominated film Born Yesterday is a deliciously witty screwball comedy about a corrupt businessman trying to get ahead. Harry Brock, a junk-dealer millionaire on the rise, hunkers down in a lavishly decorated hotel room in Washington with his brassy chorus girl girlfriend Billie Dawn in tow. Hoping to influence a senator in some personal business dealings, he soon gets advice suggesting that the seemingly dim-witted blonde will need a little polish to get ahead in D.C. society. Brock hires a newspaperman for the task but gets more than he bargained for when, in a deliriously funny and romantic turn of events, he discovers a little bit of learning can be a dangerous thing. Don’t miss this sharp-witted crooked comedy – a swell escape for family and friends this holiday season!

If you're looking for a play this December that isn't A Christmas Carol (which I've seen advertised in no fewer than four local theatres this month--including the Guthrie), this might just be the right choice.

Let's be honest, like any loyal attendee, I have my favorite Guthrie actors. There are many who will be the reason I see a show--at the Guthrie or not--and I defy anyone not to adore Sally Wingert. Seriously. If you don't, you're doing something wrong.

Born Yesterday brings a number of new faces to the Guthrie's stage, and we're all better off for that.
Particularly Alexis Bronkovic, the actress who plays Billie Dawn, deserves high praise for many parts of her performance; probably most impressive was her composure in the face of unpredictable audience reactions. The best thing for me about the Guthrie's proscenium stage is that my seat is in the front row, almost in the center. At one memorable point near the end of Act I, Billie sits down stage playing cards with Harry, making an extraordinary series of faces as she arranges her hand. The amount of time she spends rearranging her cards while looking alternately deliberate, exuberant, confused, frustrated (see some of this below) is marvelous--and my seat put me probably three feet from her as I leaned forward and laughed into her face. Yep, I'm that girl.

Throughout the show, Bronkovic's portrayal of Billie brought a fresh energy and life to a mid-twentieth century play that can so easily turn into a cliche. This cast, under the always-apt direction of John Miller-Stephany, never strayed in that direction. John Patrick Hayden as Paul Verrall was charming and Jeff Still as Harry Brock was a convincingly oafish and shady millionaire. Thanks to the Guthrie for these new additions to the Minneapolis stage.

And, wow, was that set gorgeous.

Born Yesterday is playing on the McGuire Proscenium Stage until January 5.

Skiing on Broken Glass

Skiing on Broken Glass, by David Goldstein

Dowling Studio, Guthrie Theater, Minneapolis, MN
October 30, 2013

From the Guthrie Theater's website:
"Mark is a lonely writer still hurting from his partner's death some years before. Then he meets Todd, an enigmatic young male escort whose charm and resilience attract and impress Mark, but whose past remains murky. Soon the two find themselves in an unlikely relationship that neither really understands -- and that will either heal them both or tear them to shreds."

This play was first performed as part of the 2010 Minnesota Fringe Festival, directed by Michelle O'Neill (who plays Edith in this production). In its original form it included only the roles of Mark and Todd and would have been limited to 60 minutes to conform to the Fringe guidelines (and it received a solid rating of 4.5 kitties there with most reviewers giving 5). I think if I would have seen the play in its original form I would have liked it more, though the expanded version (about 90 minutes) creates elements that benefit the play. 

The short scenes in the beginning of the play make it feel disjointed and jumpy, an objection that would probably have been moot at the Fringe Festival where the time-lag between scenes would have been minimal. The relationship between Mark and Todd is unlikely at best, but I found it closer to incomprehensible. This version's addition of Edith and Thomas as characters outside the relationship looking in makes the characters examine their relationship from those eyes; the audience is led further into the role of outsider examining the relationship through the architectural motifs within the script and expanded in the set design. In the play, Mark says "loving someone completely is a death-defying act. That it's fraught with such danger that if you stopped to think about it, you'd go running in the other direction. But it's also a kind of miracle ... inexplicable. It's an unguent that can heal old wounds." That's probably true, yet the relationship between the hustler and the Ivy League-educated author is unlikely to be met with approbation by anyone in either of their circles.  Examining an unlikely connection leading to healing is a topic that many audience members can relate to, even with the unexpected pairing of grief for a lost love and prostitution in the background.

The ending of the play ties up all loose ends with an artificially-heartwarming bow. The title metaphor, "Skiing on Broken Glass", is finally spoken by Mark and was so awkwardly inserted into otherwise non-metaphorical dialogue as to pull me out of what should have been a climactic moment. Mark tells Todd he's skiing on broken glass and that maybe next time someone like Mark won't be around to pick Todd up when he falls and is shred to ribbons. Todd, who had been passed between foster families and was first paid for sex at age fourteen, continually returns to prostitution for his livelihood even when he is in a long-term relationship with Mark and though he seemingly has many other options as a person. This character and relationship presents many ideas that should have left us feeling conflicted if not convicted. Instead, the audience leaves the play knowing that Todd learns from the relationship with Mark, pulls himself out of his life of prostitution, and turns into an apparently happy and productive member of society. They both heal and move on in their lives successfully. The societal ills presented were conveniently solved by the end of the play. As an avid and thoughtful theatre-goer, that's not what I'm usually looking for. 

All of that said, Michael Booth's performance as Mark is worth the price of admission (and Bill McCallum's stuffy British accent is hilarious). "Skiing on Broken Glass" is playing in the Dowling Studio until November 17.

700 Sundays

700 Sundays

by Billy Crystal

State Theatre, Minneapolis, MN

October 22, 2013

Billy Crystal tells a good story. Who knew? 

Billy Crystal's Tony-winning one-man show returns to Broadway in November. Its pre-Broadway run opened in Minneapolis tonight. Originally running in 2004, and based on Crystal's autobiography of the same title, the show primarily tells the story of Crystal's relationship with his father with a sideline of jazz history. As a boy, Crystal's favorite day of the week was Sunday because of the time spent with his father. As he died when young Billy was 15, he estimates they only had about 700 of these times together.

The first act of the evening shows off Billy Crystal's virtuosic timing and impressions. We laughed again and again. In the second act, however, Crystal's sentimental side comes out. In telling of his father's death, his subsequent guilt and mourning, and then his mother's death nearly forty years later, he brought the audience to tears. The very moving story, while uniquely his, carries all the elements of universality which allow it to resonate with any audience member who has experienced loss. 

The book is a good read, but the performance adds all the sparkly elements of Billy Crystal an audience who has seen his film or award-show-hosting performances would expect. We laughed, we cried, we saw a comedy genius at his best. Five performances left in Minneapolis before the Broadway transfer!

An Iliad

And now for something completely different...

An Iliad, by Lisa Peterson and Denis O'Hare
Adapted from Homer, translation by Robert Fagles
Dowling Studio, Guthrie Theater, Minneapolis, MN
October 20, 2013

You may be thinking to yourselves (if you're still reading this...and I'm unconvinced I have any readers beyond my mom and sister) that I've lost my mind this week. There are currently more blog entries in October than in all the rest of 2013 combined, and most of them come from the last week. I've made a rule that I won't hang up a playbill in my classroom until I've written a blog entry about it. There have been times when I've found myself with either nothing or too much to say--and so I've said nothing. At any rate, I had a pile of about twenty programs on my desk at the end of the summer, so I vowed to do better this school year. So far, so good.

Usually I like to see a show at the beginning of its run so that I can recommend it to others (or warn them away from it). An Iliad played at the Guthrie originally in May and then was reprised in October. Not only did I wait until October to see it, I saw the final performance of the run. If I had come to this show earlier, I would have known to encourage my Humanities class to see it. An Iliad presents the violence of the Trojan War--and all wars--in a way that makes the audience picture and relate to it. It would be foolish to program a one-man show if the actor were not equal to the task, and Stephen Yoakam delivers a tour de force as The Poet. One of the most effecting portions of the performance came in the epic catalogue of war where Yoakam listed all wars and conflicts from the Trojan War to the present day. The emotional impact of violence, rage, and the ugliness of war and parts of human history were heightened and the audience was compelled not to let either mythology or the intervening centuries dull its horror.

I would have liked to bring my students to this, and that's not always a compliment I give to plays. When do we get to hear epic poetry as told by a single poet any more?

Matilda (birthday, part two)

Matilda the Musical

Book by Dennis Kelly, Music and lyrics by Tim Minchin

Based on the book by Roald Dahl

Schubert Theatre, New York, NY

October 19, 2013 8:00pm

It wasn't my plan to see Matilda the Musical on this trip, but I knew I wanted a two-show birthday and I wanted to really enjoy the second. I saw Matilda in London in 2012 and knew, therefore, it would fit the bill. Added bonus: somehow I came back from London without my show programme, so this was a chance to remedy that and get a poster for my classroom. The NY production doesn't have the rest of the clever merchandise available in London, but I'll let that go for now.

Matilda is funny, charming, and infectious. The book and music capture Dahl's twisted wit in unexpected ways. The set and lighting add cleverly to the mood, and the production comes together as an enjoyable whole. Though the audience was mostly children, as one might expect, I was surrounded by adults who were captivated. I feared some of the sparkle from the London production would not have made the transatlantic transfer, and I think this might have been true at the top of the show. Certainly there were several jokes that got much bigger laughs from a European audience and there were certain cultural understandings the NY audience lacked. While Matilda is not the phenomenon on Broadway it was on the West End, overall the transfer was successful. 

I've been singing "Revolting Children" all morning and will add the cast album to my library when I'm off this airplane to Minneapolis and back in the world of wifi.

Big Fish (birthday, part one)

Big Fish

Book by John August, Music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa

Neil Simon Theatre, New York, NY

October 19, 2013 2:00pm

Taped to every seat in the Neil Simon Theatre were surveys for audience members to complete, and they asked for answers both before and after the performance. As I've always been an eager and know-it-all student, I began almost immediately. Following general demographic information were questions about our reasons for choosing this particular show. The first option: because it stars Norbert Leo Butz. The second: because it was directed and choreographed by Susan Stroman. There were at least fifteen more reasons to choose from, and we were told to choose the top three. Having two of my top three given right away made me feel simultaneously justified and less unique. Even though I went into this show with a little skepticism, an afternoon with Norbert is unlikely to disappoint (unless it's Catch Me If You Can, but that wasn't his fault). My third reason for choosing this show is that it's a new musical, and there weren't many of those for me to choose from on this trip (because Kinky Boots was sold out when I tried to buy tickets).

My skepticism had a couple of causes: first, I didn't love the film version of Big Fish. I liked it; I thought it was fine. These aren't big reasons for me to seek out a show. But the main reason I was unsure is Music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa. I saw The Addams Family with students in 2011, and there were some great things about that show. We loved Rachel Potter as Wednesday Addams; Bebe Neuwirth; I got to meet Heidi Blickenstaff for a second time; and the Addams family are quirky and beloved characters. But with some notable bright spots, the music is mostly insipid. I found myself repeatedly wishing I could subtly look at my program to figure out how much more I had to sit through.

With those reservations, I was understandably unsure about Big Fish. By the end of the opening number, I saw the production is beautiful. The choreography and direction is seamless, the costumes clever, and the characters engaging. The music didn't hit all the right emotional notes, but it was adequate.

By the end of the second act, however, none of that mattered. The heart of this story as told by these actors is composer-proof. There was a point where I found myself with tears running freely down my face, wondering how to surreptitiously get tissues out of my purse. The only sounds from the audience were sniffles and sobs from all around. At the end of the day, we all cared much more about Edward Bloom and his son Will than about any flaws in the production or score. In terms of emotional impact, this show captured its audience more than any other I've seen in a while. See it when you have the chance.

And if you get to see Norbert as Edward Bloom, so much the better for you.

Newsies - The One without Christian Bale

Newsies

Music by Alan Menken, Lyrics by Jack Feldman, Book by Harvey Fierstein

Based on the film written by Bob Tzudiker and Noni White

Nederlander Theatre, New York, NY

October 18, 2013

Let's be honest: if you didn't like the 1992 film Newsies starring Christian Bale, Bill Pullman, Robert Duvall, and Ann-Margret, you're not going to like the stage version, either. But if that's true, we're probably not friends and you're likely not reading this. 

Waiting to get into the theatre tonight, I was singing arguably the worst song in the film: "High Times, Hard Times." I knew this song didn't make the cut for the stage version, but it was the one stubbornly stuck in my head while waiting for the show to begin. The replacement version, "That's Rich", is arguably better, but the best songs in the show are some of those that were originally in the film. Making Joseph Pulitzer a singing character was a good choice, but turning him occasionally silly is unnecessary at best. 

Of all the noticeable changes, the morphing of the reporter character (played by Bill Pullman in the film) and the love interest into one person - who is also Pulitzer's daughter - was wholly artificial. I understand the need in theatre to cut the casting down to the bare essentials, but this change didn't read well. Since the conflict inherent in Pulitzer's daughter being involved with the strike leader is never fully developed or discussed with Pulitzer, her character change was unnecessary. The script speaks of the children's crusade and the need for the newsies to speak for all exploited child workers, and it speaks of the support of all those other child workers, but we never see anyone besides the newsies themselves. Wouldn't this have been a logical place to incorporate her (and more female characters)? 

From the purely selfish perspective of a high school theatre director, I wish the stage version had found ways to incorporate more women. This production has a cast of 28, large by Broadway standards. Four of the twenty-eight are women, with three of the women playing two roles. This is not viable for my students, even if I just cast some of the newsies as girls. In a show that high school kids go crazy for (and they were the main demographic in the audience tonight), this is disappointing.

 (I went back for a better marquee pic)

As my friend Beth has pointed out, there is no counting the number of times we watched this movie in high school. As a fan of the film, the stage version does not disappoint. The singing was strong, the choreography exciting, and the familiar songs lit up the audience. There are a few self-serving script changes I would make, but they didn't diminish an enjoyable evening of musical theatre.

Pippin

Pippin

Music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, book by Roger O. Hirson

The Music Box, New York, NY

October 17, 2013

I saw Pippin in London at the Menier Chocolate Factory a year and a half ago (sitting behind Stephen Schwartz --squee!), and I thought the production concept was very clever and staged in an interesting space. A boy who plays too many video games finds himself suddenly inside one of them and has to get through all the levels of life. Of course, that the actor who played Pippin was playing the original Super Mario Bros at the entrance to the theatre helped, too: a nice shot of nostalgia sets up audience reactions nicely.

When I came back from London and found a different production of Pippin opening on Broadway, my reactions were mixed. 1)Ooh, but the video game was so much cleverer than the too-obvious circus. 2) So much Pippin right now! For a show that nearly disappeared after the '70s, it's making quite the resurgence. 3)I really liked the version I grew up watching on video disc with William Katt and Ben Vereen. (That third reaction was less germane to the story...but who doesn't like remembering videodiscs? Nostalgia, see?)

My reactions were not mixed after seeing the Tony-winning production at The Music Box. A combination of Cirque du Soleil and musical theatre, from a performance standpoint not much could be more visually stunning. Twirling, twisting, climbing, juggling--with and without fire, upside-down singing: Pippin has it all. Patina Miller as the Leading Player is a rock star. I've had an inexplicable crush on Terrence Mann since the film version of A Chorus Line, and he played an interesting Charles. Matthew James Thomas as Pippin was adorable, but at times his singing was drowned out by the orchestra. As in the London production (and probably all good productions) Pippin's grandmother Berthe stole the show. Tovah Feldshuh singing "No Time at All" while swinging upside-down on a trapeze is not something to be missed. 

While I still think the London production was conceptually cooler, this production is much more fully-realized and engaging. The bits of circus acrobatics alone are worth the price of the ticket, but any day that includes "Corner of the Sky", "Simple Joys", and "With You" is a better one.

Tribes

Tribes, by Nina Raine

Guthrie Theater
October 15, 2013

When I started this blog, I said that I am fully determined to enjoy every show I see. Some I love. Some make me think. Some are also things that I see, but they're an enjoyable way to spend the evening nonetheless.

Tonight I was tested.

Tribes is challenging, provocative, and occasionally difficult. From the beginning the profanity is almost shocking (as one of the actors said in the post-show discussion: "We hit you right out of the gate with the C U Next Tuesday, didn't we?"). The oldest man alive, with whom I shared an armrest tonight, didn't enjoy this, and I could feel him physically cringing away from the stage often during Act I. The set is amazing (more than 28,000 books carved from styrofoam, I'm told). The details are extraordinary. Two of my favorite Guthrie actors are in it. I still found myself detached from the story for the better part of an hour.

Until the final scene in the first act, when one of the characters plays the piano. Then it had me.

Tribes is primarily a story about family and communication, and it brings to the fore the difficulties often therein contained. One son, Billy, is deaf; another, Danny, hears voices and begins to stammer more and more as the play goes on; the daughter, Ruth, the only non-writer in the family, is finding her voice in singing opera; and the parents are intellectuals often embroiled in a battle of wits with each other and/or their children. At the beginning of the play, all three children, in their twenties, have returned home to live with their parents, causing even more tension.

This play details Billy's struggles as a deaf man brought up in a hearing family. When he meets Sylvia, brought up in a deaf family but losing her hearing in her twenties, he finally feels he has found a place--his tribe. She teaches him sign language which he feels allows him expression, rather than trying to always take everything in through lip-reading as he had grown up doing in his family.

I would not have enjoyed this play as I did without the post-play discussion. The actors articulated beautifully the struggles of each of their characters. John McGinty, making his Guthrie debut in Tribes, is deaf and talked about some of his own experiences communicating in a mostly hearing world. The poignant familial and familiar clashes resonate uncomfortably, regardless of one's individual experiences. Admittedly I found some of the scenes disjointed (perhaps that would be different if reading the script), but overall the evening was worthwhile. The warnings about strong language are serious--but I still wouldn't hesitate to bring my high school students to see it. Try to go to a performance with a post-play discussion.

Tribes is playing until November 10.

Schwartz and Chekhov: An Unlikely Pairing

Of course, now that I've said that, Stephen Schwartz will compose a musical version of The Cherry Orchard.

Go ahead, man. I dare you. Prove me wrong.

Wicked
Music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, Book by Winnie Holzman
Based on the novel by Gregory Maguire
Orpheum Theatre, Minneapolis
Wednesday, September 18, 2013

The summer doldrums are over, and the theatre season is back in swing. Thank heavens. I was beginning to think I'd fallen behind on my blog again when, in reality, I hadn't seen anything since July. Inconceivable.

Anyway, there's hardly anything I need to say about Wicked, and I really don't want to fangirl all over this blog. I have seen this show six times, in four cities, and on two continents. Do I need to go on?

I didn't think so. (But I will.)

The first time I saw this show was on Broadway in 2004, the week after the Tonys (where it lost the big award to Avenue Q), and I was with a large group of high school students. When we got the tickets the previous October, we had no way of knowing this show would be a rousing success and cultural phenomenon. All I knew was that my friend and then-roommate Tracy, who was coordinating my students' trip, was a Wizard of Oz fanatic and thought this show would probably be good.

Now I have almost 30 theatre alumni who tell people, rather smugly, that "yeah, I saw the original cast on Broadway." Inevitably, the reaction is envy with a hint of meanness.

This July, however, was the first time I had sprung for good seats--and that's because there was a 50% off ticket offer. The spectacle of this particular musical is always overwhelming, and sitting in the balcony is really the only way to get the full picture of what's happening. This time I was in the eighth row and I got to see all the nuances up close. Not since I saw Kristin Chenoweth in 2004 was I so charmed by Galinda, and I found myself emotionally caught through most of the show.

Even the six middle-aged women behind me who chatted, sang, and commented throughout the performance couldn't ruin the spell of the show. Normally that kind of thing drives me crazy, but their joy in the performance was infectious. At the end of Act I, when Elphaba belts "Defying Gravity" while flying over the stage with her larger-than-life cape billowing behind her, the woman directly behind me SHOUTED

"I have seen the future! And this is what it looks like!"

I went into intermission laughing aloud.

Uncle Vanya, Anton Chekhov
Adaptation by Brian Friel
Guthrie Theater, Minneapolis
Thursday, September 19, 2013
(Preview performance)

What a difference a day makes. The following night, this was a strange comparison to Wicked's spectacle.

Friel's adaptation highlights the comedy in the play, even while retaining the character of Chekhov's bleak original. (Don't let that cheery publicity material fool you. It's still Chekhov.) If you're looking for a more thorough plot and character summary, check BroadwayWorld.com's review here. I can tell you that I laughed, I thought, and I felt all the bleakness Chekhov can supply. Uncle Vanya is playing until October 27. Should you see it? Yes. Into every life a little Chekhov must fall. When it does, it might as well bring a few laughs, too.

Should you see it the night after Wicked? No. The comparison is weird.

Les Mis: You Had Me at the Prologue

My most memorable birthday is my eighth. Not to say it's all been downhill from there, but I can tell you most things about that day. I can describe my dress, the restaurant where we ate in Omaha, and my joy in feeding the swans in the Old Market. Most importantly, however, it was the day my parents took me to see my first professional show: Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I won't pretend this show is my favorite, but it will always have a special place for me because it was the first. Similarly, I'll always remember that the first show I saw in New York (ON BROADWAY (squee!)) was Phantom of the Opera (no idea why Andrew Lloyd Webber gets to be involved in both of these important firsts). That also is not a show I'm super fond of today, but I can tell you of many afternoons where I sat at the piano and played and sang through its entire songbook.

Somewhere in between those two important firsts, I saw Les Misérables and it changed the course of my life. I don't mean that in an overused, meaningless way: I was in eighth grade, the first chord of the orchestra brought tears to my eyes, and I said (whether aloud or in my head I don't know) "This is what I want to do in my life." Granted, in eighth grade, I thought I would try to get a job playing my flute for the orchestra--but the band geek in me didn't win out. Theatre has become the most consistent passion in my life and I revisited that this evening when I saw the most recent incarnation of Les Misérables on its national tour.

Les Misérables
Music by Claude-Michel Schonberg, Lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer, Original French text by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel
Orpheum Theatre, Minneapolis
Wednesday, July 31, 2013

The thing is, I can't even tell you how many times I've seen Les Mis on stage. It is a show that, whenever it's around and I have time, I'll go see. I didn't buy tickets to see this particular tour, but when I didn't have very much to do on this Wednesday and I got another Facebook reminder that rush tickets were available, I went.

Mostly I was annoyed by the crowd before the show even started. Statements like "Oh, this is that movie with Wolverine. I didn't know they made it into a musical" and "I don't know how this Javert could be as good as Russell Crowe" made me want to punch my fellow theatre-goers prior to taking my seat. I didn't. And I don't espouse violence. But, honestly. When I took my seat, I remembered why I don't like seeing touring productions very much. People who never go to the theatre and subsequently assume it's like seeing a movie come out of the woodwork...and always sit near me. They constantly whisper to each other, update Facebook, and critique the performance on stage while it is happening. I have no problem with the critiquing, but keep it in your head and off your phone until intermission. It turns out that most of the people here didn't come to hear your old-lady-church-whisper about singing "I Dreamed a Dream" when you were in high school, ma'am. But I digress.

Cool projections (particularly during the sewer scene) aside, I don't like this current staging of Les Mis as much as the original turntable. It feels too slick and stripped down, unlike the grandiose, ever-changing staging of the original. I'm sure this is more cost-effective while touring, and it was certainly still very impressive (the thirty-person cast is massive by today's standards), but the original staging's overwhelming spectacle seemed to fit the massive scope of the story and Hugo's novel more effectively. This opinion probably has too much to do with my emotional attachment to this show, but I'm OK with that; I know my childlike disbelief at the sheer size of the set has stayed with me. When the two giant halves of the barricades folded down at the top of Act Two, there were no words to describe my wonder.

The faces of today's eighth graders will undoubtedly be filled with as much visible awe as mine upon first experiencing this production. True to form, I cried through the first fifteen minutes of Act One before I pulled myself together. I thought I was all cried out until "A Little Fall of Rain"--I've always most closely identified with Éponine--and then I cried from "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" (beautifully staged) pretty much through the end.

If you've always loved Les Misérables, this national tour will not disappoint. If you've never seen it, the spectacle will overwhelm (but you should probably read the synopsis in the program before the curtain--some of the lyrics were difficult to understand). If you think you're going to a movie and will see Hugh Jackman or Russell Crowe or Anne Hathaway, let me suggest Redbox or Netflix. The rest of us will thank you for not talking through the performance. Enjoy your phone and conversation on your couch at home--or put your phone away (just until intermission!) and allow the performances to overwhelm you.

Flashdance...What a feeling! (???)

Flashdance the Musical
Book by Tom Hedley and Robert Cary, Music by Robbie Roth, Lyrics by Robert Cary and Robbie Roth
Orpheum Theatre, Minneapolis, MN
Wednesday, April 3, 2013

"What a feeling" really does sum it up. It's taken me a number of days to define that feeling; I'll be honest, I'm still at somewhat of a loss. During intermission I heard one of the ushers commenting that they're trying out the show before Broadway and still have some tweaking to do.

Tweaking doesn't begin to cover it.

As a semi-jukebox musical, it has the appeal of already-known songs going for it. Audiences come in expecting to hear "Maniac" and "What a Feeling," among others. They are not disappointed in this. I also enjoyed "I Love Rock and Roll" and "Gloria" (because I like to sing along with it). But as for the rest of the show...

The dialogue is awkward and stilted (presumably written that way--this could not have all been the actors' fault), the secondary characters were poorly drawn and developed (when the supporting male finally had his character-developing solo in Act II, I was hard-pressed to remember why I was supposed to care), and the special effects were unnecessarily overblown and not supported by the drama.

On the other hand, I can say that this is the first time I've ever seen a musical open with welding on stage. I hope it's the last.

For a "Broadway-bound show," this wasn't promising. Wednesday night theatregoers are either theatrical devotees or those out for a fun evening who couldn't care less what's playing. Both groups left en masse at intermission. Honestly, the most exciting part of the show was when a man at the back of the section in front of me got up and yelled at the women behind him for talking too loudly during the show. While he had a point (I could also hear her from ten rows back), his yelling didn't make it less loud. Later, he apparently felt his experience was ruined (or awful) as he was part of the crowd leaving at intermission.

I wish I'd have joined them. After the water pouring down at the end of Act I, it was anticlimactic.



On a related note: I'm about eight shows behind on my blog. Probably one of them deserved a shout-out it didn't get, and the rest were also fine. Or, if not fine, they were also shows I saw. There's a tidy pile of playbills on top of my printer hoping to receive some attention soon. I'll do my best.