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.

Catch Me If You Can

Catch Me If You Can

Book by Terrance McNally, Music by Marc Shaiman, Lyrics by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman

Orpheum Theatre, Minneapolis, MN

Take a moment to look at the artwork for this show. Appreciate, if you will, the captivating use of color, shape, and space. The image is reminiscent of 1960s-era James Bond. I expected the musical to capture much of the same vibe. Mod. Colorful. Energetic. Cool.

You're with me? The artwork successfully lures audience members to a theatre, especially when combined with the title recognition. The 2002 film version of Frank Abignale, Jr.'s story was effective in its storytelling and potential audiences link the title with fondness for Tom Hanks and Leonardo DiCaprio. You want to see this musical.

The bad news: you have now seen the most exciting part of this musical. 

I took students to New York in the spring of 2011 when this show was newly on Broadway (very newly, it had just begun in previews). It starred Norbert Leo Butz and Aaron Tveit, two of my favorites. The book and music are by Broadway veterans Terrance McNally and Marc Shaiman. In one of our free evenings, a small handful of students chose to see this show while I accompanied another group to The Addams Family. Aside from getting Bebe Neuwirth's autograph following the show, I found myself jealous of the other group's choice. Later, when the group expressed a vague disappointment with Catch Me If You Can, I was sure they were wrong. Silly high school students. How could they know anything?

This is another time when I should have trusted their judgment. The staging was interesting, I enjoyed the incorporation of technology and the orchestra into the set, and some of the costume choices were quite effective. The most exciting part of the show, however, was when another patron in the balcony had some sort of medical emergency and had to be removed during the final number of Act I. As there were a large number of medical personnel in the audience and the ushers responded quickly and efficiently, the woman was removed from the theatre quickly and with a minimum of disruption. But it was still the most exciting thing that happened.

As I've mentioned before, I go to the theatre prepared to be entertained, and I plan to enjoy everything I see. I know this is too optimistic, but seeing a musical is one of my favorite ways to spend an evening, so it follows that I should enjoy my time.

In this case, I cannot recommend this show. It was very low energy and fairly dull. None of the promise of the artwork is carried out on the stage. Do not catch this show, even if you can. Watch the movie. It will be a less expensive and more enjoyable evening.

Beauty and the Beast

Something magical can happen when seeing a big-name, big-budget show for the first time. That magic is compounded if you're lucky enough to see a show with impressive costumes, sets, lighting, and special effects in its permanent home. So unless it's the first run of the national tour or it somehow has a phenomenal budget, something gets lost in translation for many touring shows. That said...

Disney's Beauty and the Beast, 
Music by Alan Menken, Lyrics by Howard Ashman & Tim Rice

Orpheum Theatre, Minneapolis, MN

I think I saw Beauty and the Beast in the movie theater twelve times when it came out in 1991. That's not even an exaggeration; my friend Beth and I went every Sunday night for months, and there was at least one week when we sat through both the 7:00 and 9:00 showings. It is safe to say that I love Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I have seen the stage production before and fell in love with the clever costuming, over-the-top production numbers, and faithfulness with which the animated film was translated to the stage. I had no doubt that I would thoroughly enjoy what I was going to see at the Orpheum tonight. In fact, I laughed, I cried, and I came home happy.

My only qualm with this touring production has to do with its special effects. I know that they're probably not going to be everything I want them to be in my head and that mounting a travelling production has its own special set of challenges. I even know that I was probably so captivated by the stage adaptation the first time I saw this show that I wasn't as critical as I might otherwise have been. At the same time, merely going briefly black before revealing a magical transformation does not make me believe in theatre magic. It makes me glance around to see if everyone else is as nonplussed by the attempt. The audience members should not giggle during the Beast's transformation into the prince because it is so ridiculous (even though I don't really like that scene in the movie either--the light shooting from his fingers is weird). These things take away from what is an otherwise delightful evening of theatre.

When I saw The Wizard of Oz at the Orpheum a couple of years ago, I was startled at the number of little girls in blue gingham dresses or sparkly red shoes. Tonight there were more little princesses than I could count, and some of the princesses' moms were startlingly fancy as well. All the joy and nostalgia Beauty and the Beast has to offer is there in this production, but that's in large part owing to Alan Menken's music and the original animators. The production is fun and entertaining, perfect for a child's first theatrical experience.

Disney's Beauty and the Beast is playing at the Orpheum Theatre until October 21, 2012. Click here for ticket information.

Next scheduled show: Our Town at Andover High School. Can that be? My show is up next? Good heavens, I hope not.