Warsaw
Warsaw was my my final show for NYMF '07. I saw the second of two staged reading performances, which were part of the NYMF developmental series.
I had actually originally planned to see this for no reason other than that Kelly Jeanne Grant (Kathy in the '06 Company revival) was in it. Her performance in Company always stood out to me, with its pitch-perfect, sweet sophistication, and I was eager to see her in something else. But, as it happened, she scored another gig and was unable to participate.
The show is based on true events: the story of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising is one often told, and yet not one that should ever stop being told. It's a valiant effort to take on, though, because historical drama walks such a fine line between over-glorifcation of the event and realism. Where does drama end distortion of reality begin? That's what worried me about this heading in, but the writers have handled the story delicately and with respect. There are moments that don't work -- where musicalization of certain emotions don't work and feel awkward -- for example, when a mother must choose which of her three children will be allowed to live, her decision is contemplated in song. No matter how poetic, a song felt an uncomfortable way to display such a conflict. It seemed to me artificial: in reality, the mind would be in a state of panic, whereas in song, this mother quite literally weighed her options, detailing the best traits of her children and deciding who should live. But overall, it seems to have potential. Awkward moments are offset by beautiful love songs and sweeping choral numbers. The scores is fairly cinematic, and it does take on a rather "megamusical" feel (think Les Mis in Poland) at times, but not necessarily in a bad way.
There's often little to say about readings other than that which applies to the text itself. There was some staging, but with such a large ensemble, it's difficult to pull off much innovative -- nor is that the point with a reading, really. However, I must mention Josh Young, who played Roman, the male lead. Roman is a young Jewish man -- the ghetto walls separate him from his fiancee, who is a Polish Catholic. He often asks her to come with him to Palestine, where he and his family will be safe, but she is relucant to leave her home and family behind, and he will not go without her. He narrowly escapes imprisonment and joins a group of fighters. The cast was more than decent all around, but I found him to be quite a stand-out: he has a beautiful, full, legit voice, and really nailed his task with sincerity.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
A new spin on Hanukkah
Maccabeat! ...The Hanukkah Musical
People always talk about those shows that, for lack of better terminology, don't really know what they want to be. Cliché as the phrase has become, that's exactly how I felt about this one. It just felt sort of like it had multiple personalities and hadn't really teased out what it was trying to do. It seemed like it was deciding between two rather opposing terms, and hadn't chosen one before it ended up on stage. Is it a satire of the stories we tell, or is it a loving riff on history? Big difference between the two. Big problem if we can't decipher the intention.
Maccabeat completely retells the Hanukkah story. In this version, Judah (Mitch Dean, who was well-cast in the role) is the most rebellious of his brothers -- but he is so with the purest of intentions. Although his father, a high priest with an endless supply of kippot, constantly reprimands him for straying from his Jewish roots, Judah wants to adopt some of the more harmless Greek traditions, such as fashion, in hopes that the two communities will learn to coexist without tension. He thinks there are a great many things they could learn from one another if they would only abandon their stubborn defenses. Against his father's wishes, he takes his brothers to Jerusalem to show them the wonders of city life. He meets and falls in love with Allura, a beautiful Greek girl of noble descent. Upon discovering his athletic talent, she convinces him to compete in the Olympics, as the first-ever Hebrew Olympic athlete. She too hopes that the two cultures can someday reconcile their differences, and thinks that perhaps the Greeks could learn a thing or two from their neighbors. He wins, and becomes a hero, but not without resulting conflict. He and Allura must work together to save the day, so to speak. In this tale, Hanukkah is not eight days because the oil burned that long, but because Sukkot -- which the Jews were unable to celebrate while they were at war -- is also eight days, and so they chose to make up for it with a new holiday.
Much like the show seems to have confused (confusing!) intentions, I'm conflicted on this one. I'm not sure whether on the whole, I found it hysterical or just totally absurd. There are certainly moments of both hilarity and complete, blatant absurdity -- some of which is undoubtedly funny, I will grant that. A stip mall with McDavid's and Schmuel's Club? Hilarious. And subtle enough not to be instrusive. I love anachonisms, but there were just too many for my liking. The show almost seemed to try too hard to modernize the story in order to help us relate to it: but putting characters who talk like Valley girls into biblical Jerusalem doesn't really seem like the way to make a somewhat archaic -- but not unrelatable -- story connect.
There are far too many songs, but the score is quite catchy. There's a narrator -- somewhat reminiscent of the way Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat (one of my all-time guiltiest pleasures) is structured -- which works well for this story. The use of a character that can break the fourth wall and step out of a scene is a good tactic to connect with the audience. It's not a necessity by any means, but it seems to be common in telling stories of this nature -- and it's certainly not a bother, either. I liked it.
People always talk about those shows that, for lack of better terminology, don't really know what they want to be. Cliché as the phrase has become, that's exactly how I felt about this one. It just felt sort of like it had multiple personalities and hadn't really teased out what it was trying to do. It seemed like it was deciding between two rather opposing terms, and hadn't chosen one before it ended up on stage. Is it a satire of the stories we tell, or is it a loving riff on history? Big difference between the two. Big problem if we can't decipher the intention.
Maccabeat completely retells the Hanukkah story. In this version, Judah (Mitch Dean, who was well-cast in the role) is the most rebellious of his brothers -- but he is so with the purest of intentions. Although his father, a high priest with an endless supply of kippot, constantly reprimands him for straying from his Jewish roots, Judah wants to adopt some of the more harmless Greek traditions, such as fashion, in hopes that the two communities will learn to coexist without tension. He thinks there are a great many things they could learn from one another if they would only abandon their stubborn defenses. Against his father's wishes, he takes his brothers to Jerusalem to show them the wonders of city life. He meets and falls in love with Allura, a beautiful Greek girl of noble descent. Upon discovering his athletic talent, she convinces him to compete in the Olympics, as the first-ever Hebrew Olympic athlete. She too hopes that the two cultures can someday reconcile their differences, and thinks that perhaps the Greeks could learn a thing or two from their neighbors. He wins, and becomes a hero, but not without resulting conflict. He and Allura must work together to save the day, so to speak. In this tale, Hanukkah is not eight days because the oil burned that long, but because Sukkot -- which the Jews were unable to celebrate while they were at war -- is also eight days, and so they chose to make up for it with a new holiday.
Much like the show seems to have confused (confusing!) intentions, I'm conflicted on this one. I'm not sure whether on the whole, I found it hysterical or just totally absurd. There are certainly moments of both hilarity and complete, blatant absurdity -- some of which is undoubtedly funny, I will grant that. A stip mall with McDavid's and Schmuel's Club? Hilarious. And subtle enough not to be instrusive. I love anachonisms, but there were just too many for my liking. The show almost seemed to try too hard to modernize the story in order to help us relate to it: but putting characters who talk like Valley girls into biblical Jerusalem doesn't really seem like the way to make a somewhat archaic -- but not unrelatable -- story connect.
There are far too many songs, but the score is quite catchy. There's a narrator -- somewhat reminiscent of the way Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat (one of my all-time guiltiest pleasures) is structured -- which works well for this story. The use of a character that can break the fourth wall and step out of a scene is a good tactic to connect with the audience. It's not a necessity by any means, but it seems to be common in telling stories of this nature -- and it's certainly not a bother, either. I liked it.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Austentacious: No Pride & Extreme Prejudice
Austentacious
9.25.07
Austentacious is, as backstage comedies tend to be, a loving joke at the expense of the theater -- in this particular case, it comes as a look at the often well-meaning disasters that lurk in community theaters. The action takes place in a church hall that serves as home to the Central Riverdale Amateur Players. Their veteran director has just left them for a better job; their current production is their first without him, and the show follows this production from auditions to opening night. This production, entitled Austentacious, is an adaptation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. The premise? A common complaint about the novel is the question of, "why can't the character just say what they're feeling?" So in hopes of simplifyng matters, Emily has written her very own dance-infused telling of the story: the characters will express themselves through dance. The result is Pride and Prejudice told with a clog-off in Amsterdam that becomes a tap-off on 42nd Street, and a giant pirate ship... to name just a few of the outlandish storytelling devices.
The motley crew features the fairly typical array of characters -- and caricatures. Emily must audition for her own show, but will ultimately be cast as Elizabeth Bennett because she's sleeping with Dominic, the new -- and rather incompetent -- director. No production (nor backstage comedy) is complete without its token self-obsessed performer: Lauren, convinced she will be cast as Elizabeth, is cast as a sister, and will try anything to make her part bigger. She drags her boyfriend, David, along so he can read with her for the audition, but he ends up being so good that he's cast as Mr. Darcy. Jessica is a dedicated actress who longs to make it big. Blake is a young man with some drug problems and a bit of hidden talent wanders into auditions as an excuse to get out of a group meeting. then there's Sam: the always-dependable, hard-working and sincere stage manager who keeps everything together. Every backstage comedy needs some scandalous romance amidst the artistic mishaps: what would it be without the stage manager and the lead actor falling madly in love? The cast is solid. Not surprisingly, I'm sure, Stephanie D'Abruzzo is one of the best things about the show on the whole. Solid as the cast may be across the board, she is leagues above her castmates. I was lucky enough to see her and the rest of the original cast of Avenue Q, and it was a pleasure to see her play another role. I've always found her to be one of those performers who is simply a delight to see on stage, and she perfectly captures the essence of her well-intentioned character.
Austentacious was created by a team of seven writers -- all of whom worked on the book, and two of whom wrote the music and lyrics. For such a large collaborative team, it's surprisingly cohesive. With that many voices, you'd probably expect a high level of discontinuity, but this show easily could have been written by one or two people. The voices of these seven writers all blend together quite well. On the whole, the score is fun, ,and the book is witty and full of laughs, but the last twenty-minutes or so, in which we actually "see" the production as a series of snippets from opening night, are truly briliant. The show is funny throughout, but none of its humor can compare to that which ensues when we actually see all of the follies to which it built up right before us. Lines are forgotten, entrances are missed, miscommunications ensue, and roles become accidentally double-cast -- the antics and mishaps left the audience engulfed in uproarious laughter. The material leading up to this point is fine, but I wish the entire thing could have been as hilarious as those last twenty minutes. It's a show that doesn't necessarily bring much new to the proverbial table, but it is certainly funny and without a doubt a loveable, easily appreciated good time. It's something I could probably see going the way of Gutenberg! The Musical or [title of show], and hopefully being picked up to continue its promising development process.
9.25.07
Austentacious is, as backstage comedies tend to be, a loving joke at the expense of the theater -- in this particular case, it comes as a look at the often well-meaning disasters that lurk in community theaters. The action takes place in a church hall that serves as home to the Central Riverdale Amateur Players. Their veteran director has just left them for a better job; their current production is their first without him, and the show follows this production from auditions to opening night. This production, entitled Austentacious, is an adaptation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. The premise? A common complaint about the novel is the question of, "why can't the character just say what they're feeling?" So in hopes of simplifyng matters, Emily has written her very own dance-infused telling of the story: the characters will express themselves through dance. The result is Pride and Prejudice told with a clog-off in Amsterdam that becomes a tap-off on 42nd Street, and a giant pirate ship... to name just a few of the outlandish storytelling devices.
The motley crew features the fairly typical array of characters -- and caricatures. Emily must audition for her own show, but will ultimately be cast as Elizabeth Bennett because she's sleeping with Dominic, the new -- and rather incompetent -- director. No production (nor backstage comedy) is complete without its token self-obsessed performer: Lauren, convinced she will be cast as Elizabeth, is cast as a sister, and will try anything to make her part bigger. She drags her boyfriend, David, along so he can read with her for the audition, but he ends up being so good that he's cast as Mr. Darcy. Jessica is a dedicated actress who longs to make it big. Blake is a young man with some drug problems and a bit of hidden talent wanders into auditions as an excuse to get out of a group meeting. then there's Sam: the always-dependable, hard-working and sincere stage manager who keeps everything together. Every backstage comedy needs some scandalous romance amidst the artistic mishaps: what would it be without the stage manager and the lead actor falling madly in love? The cast is solid. Not surprisingly, I'm sure, Stephanie D'Abruzzo is one of the best things about the show on the whole. Solid as the cast may be across the board, she is leagues above her castmates. I was lucky enough to see her and the rest of the original cast of Avenue Q, and it was a pleasure to see her play another role. I've always found her to be one of those performers who is simply a delight to see on stage, and she perfectly captures the essence of her well-intentioned character.
Austentacious was created by a team of seven writers -- all of whom worked on the book, and two of whom wrote the music and lyrics. For such a large collaborative team, it's surprisingly cohesive. With that many voices, you'd probably expect a high level of discontinuity, but this show easily could have been written by one or two people. The voices of these seven writers all blend together quite well. On the whole, the score is fun, ,and the book is witty and full of laughs, but the last twenty-minutes or so, in which we actually "see" the production as a series of snippets from opening night, are truly briliant. The show is funny throughout, but none of its humor can compare to that which ensues when we actually see all of the follies to which it built up right before us. Lines are forgotten, entrances are missed, miscommunications ensue, and roles become accidentally double-cast -- the antics and mishaps left the audience engulfed in uproarious laughter. The material leading up to this point is fine, but I wish the entire thing could have been as hilarious as those last twenty minutes. It's a show that doesn't necessarily bring much new to the proverbial table, but it is certainly funny and without a doubt a loveable, easily appreciated good time. It's something I could probably see going the way of Gutenberg! The Musical or [title of show], and hopefully being picked up to continue its promising development process.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Sympathy Jones, Super Secret Agent
Sympathy Jones
9.24.07
The press notes indicate that the inspiration for Sympathy Jones came from the cinematic world; yet rather than adapting an already-existing movie to the stage, Masi Asare -- responsible for the music, lyrics and overall concept -- chose to create a new musical based on an entire cinematic genre. She found great opportunity for musicalization in the spy film genre; Sympathy Jones is largely based on the 1960s spy thriller films. I have to commend her for the concept, because I think she's right -- that particular film genre does open up a lot of opportunity for musical theater writing. In the simplest of terms, musical theater is largely about the suspension of disbelief, which certainly plays a large role in spy thrillers -- as to characters with strong motivations, another vital part to a solid musical.
But it's 2007: we're at a point of historical distance in which if you're going to tackle this, you need to do so either by satirzing it, or by going forth with full commitment to creating that particular world -- neither of which Sympathy Jones quite fully achieves. I'm actually not sure which it was going for. It has a lot of interesting things about it, but I just wish I could've come out of the evening with a more solid feel for its intentions. From reading what Asare says about her project in the press notes, I could infer that she envisioned a cinematic approach -- a musical that would totally delve into this world that is so iconic to American popular culture. But the musical itself has moments so over-the-top that they venture into at least feeling like satire, even if that isn't what they're intended to be. Strangely enough, the show seems to waver between this feeling of being completely over-the-top and taking itself too seriously, which I suspect contributes to the problem. (Similarly, sometimes -- despite the awkward staging -- it nails the style perfectly, and at other times, it's not quite styled enough to really immerse itself completely in a very stylized world.) There's a certain kind of serious nature that pervades these particular films -- it's part of the reason why it's fairly easy to laugh at them now, decades later. They have this way of taking themselves so seriously that they appear a bit ridiculous, and that perception in itself makes a decent case for how easily such a musicalization could appear satirical. I think despite the conflict in deciding what I saw, I knew what I wanted to see. Throughout the show, I felt like I wanted to tell it to go and just totally commit to that world; if this is a cinematic approach, go forth and fully dive in without looking back -- without the spurts of misplaced, updated dialogue and the self-awareness. I think if it would just be what it is without constantly looking over its shoulder, we'd look at it largely the same way we do those films -- we might laugh a little bit, but there's a reason popular culture still loves James Bond.
The show gets off to a slow start, but quickly picks up the pace, and is through to the end fairly fast-moving. There's relatively little dialogue between songs, which works well in this case. There's just enough to string the songs together and alleviate disconnect or seemingly random placement. Too much dialogue could easily slow a show like this down, perhaps due to the simplicity of the plot. Toward the end, though, things end up moving a little bit too quickly. Sympathy works as a secretary for a secret agency, but she wants to do much more than answer phones. She keeps losing out on opportunities for promotion, so when she finds a confidential file accidentally left on her desk one day, she decides to take matters -- both those of her status at work and of the case in the folder -- into her own hands. She wants to show the world what she can do, and prove her capability as a spy, but I didn't feel like the show established high enough stakes. Things move so quickly during the plot escalation that the (rather important, I think) specifics of the case seem to get lost in the whirlwind. Said escalation jumps as opposed to building up. If we are to care about it being solved, we need more to hang onto than our desire to root for Sympathy's success. While Kate Shindle is fantastic -- and easily the highlight of the show (the adorable gawkiness she brings to Sympathy is somewhat reminiscent of Sutton Foster's (Thoroughly Modern) Millie) -- a likeable protagonist is not enough. This, of course, isn't the only thing the show has going for it: it has a handful of really catchy songs, and lots of plot twists. It's best when it gets highly imaginative, but still gets tripped up on its own inclusion of musical theater cliches. It has quite a lot going for it, in fact -- not the least of which is its creative concept.
9.24.07
The press notes indicate that the inspiration for Sympathy Jones came from the cinematic world; yet rather than adapting an already-existing movie to the stage, Masi Asare -- responsible for the music, lyrics and overall concept -- chose to create a new musical based on an entire cinematic genre. She found great opportunity for musicalization in the spy film genre; Sympathy Jones is largely based on the 1960s spy thriller films. I have to commend her for the concept, because I think she's right -- that particular film genre does open up a lot of opportunity for musical theater writing. In the simplest of terms, musical theater is largely about the suspension of disbelief, which certainly plays a large role in spy thrillers -- as to characters with strong motivations, another vital part to a solid musical.
But it's 2007: we're at a point of historical distance in which if you're going to tackle this, you need to do so either by satirzing it, or by going forth with full commitment to creating that particular world -- neither of which Sympathy Jones quite fully achieves. I'm actually not sure which it was going for. It has a lot of interesting things about it, but I just wish I could've come out of the evening with a more solid feel for its intentions. From reading what Asare says about her project in the press notes, I could infer that she envisioned a cinematic approach -- a musical that would totally delve into this world that is so iconic to American popular culture. But the musical itself has moments so over-the-top that they venture into at least feeling like satire, even if that isn't what they're intended to be. Strangely enough, the show seems to waver between this feeling of being completely over-the-top and taking itself too seriously, which I suspect contributes to the problem. (Similarly, sometimes -- despite the awkward staging -- it nails the style perfectly, and at other times, it's not quite styled enough to really immerse itself completely in a very stylized world.) There's a certain kind of serious nature that pervades these particular films -- it's part of the reason why it's fairly easy to laugh at them now, decades later. They have this way of taking themselves so seriously that they appear a bit ridiculous, and that perception in itself makes a decent case for how easily such a musicalization could appear satirical. I think despite the conflict in deciding what I saw, I knew what I wanted to see. Throughout the show, I felt like I wanted to tell it to go and just totally commit to that world; if this is a cinematic approach, go forth and fully dive in without looking back -- without the spurts of misplaced, updated dialogue and the self-awareness. I think if it would just be what it is without constantly looking over its shoulder, we'd look at it largely the same way we do those films -- we might laugh a little bit, but there's a reason popular culture still loves James Bond.
The show gets off to a slow start, but quickly picks up the pace, and is through to the end fairly fast-moving. There's relatively little dialogue between songs, which works well in this case. There's just enough to string the songs together and alleviate disconnect or seemingly random placement. Too much dialogue could easily slow a show like this down, perhaps due to the simplicity of the plot. Toward the end, though, things end up moving a little bit too quickly. Sympathy works as a secretary for a secret agency, but she wants to do much more than answer phones. She keeps losing out on opportunities for promotion, so when she finds a confidential file accidentally left on her desk one day, she decides to take matters -- both those of her status at work and of the case in the folder -- into her own hands. She wants to show the world what she can do, and prove her capability as a spy, but I didn't feel like the show established high enough stakes. Things move so quickly during the plot escalation that the (rather important, I think) specifics of the case seem to get lost in the whirlwind. Said escalation jumps as opposed to building up. If we are to care about it being solved, we need more to hang onto than our desire to root for Sympathy's success. While Kate Shindle is fantastic -- and easily the highlight of the show (the adorable gawkiness she brings to Sympathy is somewhat reminiscent of Sutton Foster's (Thoroughly Modern) Millie) -- a likeable protagonist is not enough. This, of course, isn't the only thing the show has going for it: it has a handful of really catchy songs, and lots of plot twists. It's best when it gets highly imaginative, but still gets tripped up on its own inclusion of musical theater cliches. It has quite a lot going for it, in fact -- not the least of which is its creative concept.
Monday, September 24, 2007
The Boy in the Bathroom: A Pleasant Surprise
The Boy in the Bathroom
9.20.07
I'm going to keep this one short, frankly, because I'm in dire need of some sleep. Such is the life of a college student. But, luckily for me, it's not hard to write a short review when that review is also a positive one.
I expected The Boy in the Bathroom to be another quirky, campy, loveably ridiculous show -- the title kind of makes it sound like one, anyway. But what I saw was just the opposite. I found myself rather enthralled by this one-act beauty: it is a show filled with a quiet, calm sincerity that we don't really see often enough in the current crop of new musical theater. It's an excellent example of less being more, in a way. It's free of that trite artificiality that often pervades musical theater; the material is strong enough that it doesn't need all of those bells and whistles to support itself. It's just good.
The show is about a young man with OCD who has not left his bathroom in a year: he one day chose to live there, where he could control the entire environment. His mother passes him food and other essentials underneath the door. When his mother breaks her hip, she hires a local girl named Julie to help her around the house. Julie and David form an unlikely bond, and eventually fall in love.
The obvious expectation is to assume that if David has OCD, he has clearly chosen to live in the bathroom because he can wash his hands as often as he pleases and live happily in obsessive cleanliness. But the show digs far deeper than that crude stereotype. It is about love and loss and difficult relationships -- how the complexities of mental illness can penetrate and destroy -- and what happens when we come across a love so pure yet so beautifully complicated that it pushes us farther than we thought we could go. David is far more complex than a young man with a need to compulsively clean as the title might indicate: he says that he's not sure whether he stays in the bathroom for fear that the world will contaminate him, or for fear that he might contaminate the world.
It's a boring thing to say, certainly, but it's true, so I suppose I have to subject readers to the boredom: the show is quite well-written across the boards. The score has no particular earworms, but it doesn't need them; it's a fluid, modern musical theater score with several moments that sound quite distinctly Sondheim-influenced -- and thankfully, a minimal amount of extranneous moments. The book is solid, and the characters are beautifully developed. It'd be easy to tell this story filled with caricatures -- but if audience reactions speak for anything, the audible gasps that weave throughout the theater should be proof enough that this story is heartwarming, heartbreaking, and one not difficult to get lost in. It's uncomfortable and unsettling. The ending doesn't tie up lose ends and leave everything packaged and resolved all nicely for us. It's thought-provoking and difficult, challenging, moving, and a great many of the other things I look for in a good musical. If it hasn't sold out yet, I strongly encourage you all to see it. I hope someone gives it a further production.
9.20.07
I'm going to keep this one short, frankly, because I'm in dire need of some sleep. Such is the life of a college student. But, luckily for me, it's not hard to write a short review when that review is also a positive one.
I expected The Boy in the Bathroom to be another quirky, campy, loveably ridiculous show -- the title kind of makes it sound like one, anyway. But what I saw was just the opposite. I found myself rather enthralled by this one-act beauty: it is a show filled with a quiet, calm sincerity that we don't really see often enough in the current crop of new musical theater. It's an excellent example of less being more, in a way. It's free of that trite artificiality that often pervades musical theater; the material is strong enough that it doesn't need all of those bells and whistles to support itself. It's just good.
The show is about a young man with OCD who has not left his bathroom in a year: he one day chose to live there, where he could control the entire environment. His mother passes him food and other essentials underneath the door. When his mother breaks her hip, she hires a local girl named Julie to help her around the house. Julie and David form an unlikely bond, and eventually fall in love.
The obvious expectation is to assume that if David has OCD, he has clearly chosen to live in the bathroom because he can wash his hands as often as he pleases and live happily in obsessive cleanliness. But the show digs far deeper than that crude stereotype. It is about love and loss and difficult relationships -- how the complexities of mental illness can penetrate and destroy -- and what happens when we come across a love so pure yet so beautifully complicated that it pushes us farther than we thought we could go. David is far more complex than a young man with a need to compulsively clean as the title might indicate: he says that he's not sure whether he stays in the bathroom for fear that the world will contaminate him, or for fear that he might contaminate the world.
It's a boring thing to say, certainly, but it's true, so I suppose I have to subject readers to the boredom: the show is quite well-written across the boards. The score has no particular earworms, but it doesn't need them; it's a fluid, modern musical theater score with several moments that sound quite distinctly Sondheim-influenced -- and thankfully, a minimal amount of extranneous moments. The book is solid, and the characters are beautifully developed. It'd be easy to tell this story filled with caricatures -- but if audience reactions speak for anything, the audible gasps that weave throughout the theater should be proof enough that this story is heartwarming, heartbreaking, and one not difficult to get lost in. It's uncomfortable and unsettling. The ending doesn't tie up lose ends and leave everything packaged and resolved all nicely for us. It's thought-provoking and difficult, challenging, moving, and a great many of the other things I look for in a good musical. If it hasn't sold out yet, I strongly encourage you all to see it. I hope someone gives it a further production.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Two Roads Diverged...
The Yellow Wood
9.19.07
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth...
... I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference"
- Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken"
One of the most famous poems ever written. Everybody knows it, right? That's what Adam Davies thinks, too. He feels like the only person who doesn't -- and the one who needs to the most.
The Yellow Wood is a riff on Frost's poem -- neither quite "based" on nor about the poem, it brings us to a day in the life of 17-year-old Adam, a high school student with an insatiable longing for normalcy. He's been working at memorizing the above Frost poem, and on this particular day, he must recite it in his 7th period English class. But memorization is not going well, and he's having trouble concentrating. Adam has ADD, but is becoming increasingly fed up with feeling like a freak who can't function without medication. It's the source of stress within his family -- his parents often argue about what is best for him, but as part of an attempt to treat him more like a responsible adult, they have, for one day, allowed him to choose whether or not to take his Ritalin. Adam hopes to prove that he's normal by functioning regularly without it.
What we get, then, with this riff, is a somewhat sweet, yet fairly compelling musical that plunges into some of our most basic concerns; this desire to be normal, does, after all, somewhat plague us all. Adam's story is gripping -- situationally perhaps not, but generally speaking, we've all been there, whether we like to admit it or not. We want to be normal. Like everybody else. The reality of which, of course, is more than mildly debatable. And in a way, that's what The Yellow Wood is about.
It's also also about the way we relate to and connect with art, which I found a pretty powerful thing for a musical to be about -- especially when a lot of people seeing the show have probably had their share of serious relationships with works of theatrical art. In his frustration, Adam seeks advice from his high school's rather mysterious librarian. He tells Adam that in order to be able to memorize and recite the poem, he must understand what it means. He must find whatever it is in the poem that he can connect with -- ask himself what it is that makes all the difference.
But on the whole, it's about self-discovery -- be it through art or experience or whatever else may trigger such epiphany -- which, unfortunately, can often be a bit trite. Adam is half-Korean, but because he doesn't look Korean, he's able to hide that fact from his teachers and schoolmates. His quest to crack the poem's code and understand what it means manifests itself as a sort of soul-search in which Adam must learn to accept who he is and the things that make him unique -- both those he likes and those he would prefer to hide. It's for this reason, though, that the show's two acts seem to display a significant amount of disconnect: the first act is, Adam's reality -- what a regular school day is like without his Ritalin. He meets a new friend -- a beautiful girl who encourages him to do some introspection. He confides in her that he's afraid of suppressing his overactive imagination even though it's a symptom of his ADD -- his imagination takes him to extraordinary places. The second act is almost entirely in his imagination -- he journeys through a metaphorical "yellow wood" of his own, which for a 17-year-old boy is fittingly an imagined video game in which he is faced with choices and battles and decisions about his priorities and problems. He has sacrificed his younger sister's well-being for the sake of letting his imagination run wild, disrespected his heritage and abandoned his best friend; he must find a way to right his wrongs. His enormous discovery feels somewhat contrived where it should be very moving, perhaps a flaw in the plot exposition: Adam comes to a very predictable, obvious "Oh, so it's choices that make all the difference!" conclusion. It's a tricky switch, but BD Wong's direction works reasonably well, and the video game mis en scene is a wonderfully creative way of dealing with a notion that can so often feel stale and overdone, for which much credit is deserved.
The show struck me as what a more serious, less whimsical version of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee might look like. The score is decent, with a handful of stand-out songs: I've had the Act One closer, "Dive In" stuck in my head for days. Some of the lyrics are slightly awkward, but others are perceptive and poetic. The book is better than the score, with an appropriately high dose of wit. It is quite difficult to write teenagers without making them seem caricatures, and thankfully Danny Larsen and Michelle Elliot avoid falling into the cliché traps. Jason Tam is perhaps more loveable as Adam than he was in his arresting performance as Paul in the revival of A Chorus Line. Yuka Takara has a much more beautiful voice than her recent roles might make you think -- she's a perfect fit for Adam's brainy little sister, Gwen. The performances are impressive all around, but particular mention to Randy Blair (as Adam's friend Casserole), whose comedy is endearing and silly without annoyance and Mary Ann Hu, as Adam's mother and other memberes of his Korean ancestry.
Imperfections aside but not overlooked, it's a show whose plot specificity doesn't severely limit its impact capabilities, a quality not to be taken for granted. Those of us who don't expect to relate to a 17-year-old boy may in fact be rather pleasantly surprised -- the show tells his story as a lens to something deeper (perhaps not unlike the poem itself). If not wholly successful just yet, that is one undeniabale mark of good art -- one that will hopefully, further in developent, be joined by other such token marks.
9.19.07
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth...
... I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference"
- Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken"
One of the most famous poems ever written. Everybody knows it, right? That's what Adam Davies thinks, too. He feels like the only person who doesn't -- and the one who needs to the most.
The Yellow Wood is a riff on Frost's poem -- neither quite "based" on nor about the poem, it brings us to a day in the life of 17-year-old Adam, a high school student with an insatiable longing for normalcy. He's been working at memorizing the above Frost poem, and on this particular day, he must recite it in his 7th period English class. But memorization is not going well, and he's having trouble concentrating. Adam has ADD, but is becoming increasingly fed up with feeling like a freak who can't function without medication. It's the source of stress within his family -- his parents often argue about what is best for him, but as part of an attempt to treat him more like a responsible adult, they have, for one day, allowed him to choose whether or not to take his Ritalin. Adam hopes to prove that he's normal by functioning regularly without it.
What we get, then, with this riff, is a somewhat sweet, yet fairly compelling musical that plunges into some of our most basic concerns; this desire to be normal, does, after all, somewhat plague us all. Adam's story is gripping -- situationally perhaps not, but generally speaking, we've all been there, whether we like to admit it or not. We want to be normal. Like everybody else. The reality of which, of course, is more than mildly debatable. And in a way, that's what The Yellow Wood is about.
It's also also about the way we relate to and connect with art, which I found a pretty powerful thing for a musical to be about -- especially when a lot of people seeing the show have probably had their share of serious relationships with works of theatrical art. In his frustration, Adam seeks advice from his high school's rather mysterious librarian. He tells Adam that in order to be able to memorize and recite the poem, he must understand what it means. He must find whatever it is in the poem that he can connect with -- ask himself what it is that makes all the difference.
But on the whole, it's about self-discovery -- be it through art or experience or whatever else may trigger such epiphany -- which, unfortunately, can often be a bit trite. Adam is half-Korean, but because he doesn't look Korean, he's able to hide that fact from his teachers and schoolmates. His quest to crack the poem's code and understand what it means manifests itself as a sort of soul-search in which Adam must learn to accept who he is and the things that make him unique -- both those he likes and those he would prefer to hide. It's for this reason, though, that the show's two acts seem to display a significant amount of disconnect: the first act is, Adam's reality -- what a regular school day is like without his Ritalin. He meets a new friend -- a beautiful girl who encourages him to do some introspection. He confides in her that he's afraid of suppressing his overactive imagination even though it's a symptom of his ADD -- his imagination takes him to extraordinary places. The second act is almost entirely in his imagination -- he journeys through a metaphorical "yellow wood" of his own, which for a 17-year-old boy is fittingly an imagined video game in which he is faced with choices and battles and decisions about his priorities and problems. He has sacrificed his younger sister's well-being for the sake of letting his imagination run wild, disrespected his heritage and abandoned his best friend; he must find a way to right his wrongs. His enormous discovery feels somewhat contrived where it should be very moving, perhaps a flaw in the plot exposition: Adam comes to a very predictable, obvious "Oh, so it's choices that make all the difference!" conclusion. It's a tricky switch, but BD Wong's direction works reasonably well, and the video game mis en scene is a wonderfully creative way of dealing with a notion that can so often feel stale and overdone, for which much credit is deserved.
The show struck me as what a more serious, less whimsical version of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee might look like. The score is decent, with a handful of stand-out songs: I've had the Act One closer, "Dive In" stuck in my head for days. Some of the lyrics are slightly awkward, but others are perceptive and poetic. The book is better than the score, with an appropriately high dose of wit. It is quite difficult to write teenagers without making them seem caricatures, and thankfully Danny Larsen and Michelle Elliot avoid falling into the cliché traps. Jason Tam is perhaps more loveable as Adam than he was in his arresting performance as Paul in the revival of A Chorus Line. Yuka Takara has a much more beautiful voice than her recent roles might make you think -- she's a perfect fit for Adam's brainy little sister, Gwen. The performances are impressive all around, but particular mention to Randy Blair (as Adam's friend Casserole), whose comedy is endearing and silly without annoyance and Mary Ann Hu, as Adam's mother and other memberes of his Korean ancestry.
Imperfections aside but not overlooked, it's a show whose plot specificity doesn't severely limit its impact capabilities, a quality not to be taken for granted. Those of us who don't expect to relate to a 17-year-old boy may in fact be rather pleasantly surprised -- the show tells his story as a lens to something deeper (perhaps not unlike the poem itself). If not wholly successful just yet, that is one undeniabale mark of good art -- one that will hopefully, further in developent, be joined by other such token marks.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
The Underwear Musical: Tantalizing, No?
I See London, I See France: The Underwear Musical
9.18.07
Okay, so it’s not quite as risqué as they want you to think. But it's fun. And it's campy. But it's good camp -- the proverbially winking, nudging kind that doesn't make you want to stab yourself in the eye.
Gina's boyfriend dumps her on her 35th birthday. To make matters worse, they work together at an advertising agency, and he's now run off to Bora Bora with her sexy, empty-headed secretary, leaving Gina to deal with work he's left behind. He was just about to start an ad campaign for underwear, a matter Gina feels is far outside the realm of her "smart girl" sensibility. While searching for the perfect slogan and attempting to re-invent herself, Gina falls in love with Kenny, a sweet, not-so-bright underwear model with an affinity for meteorology.
The show takes on a somewhat whimsical feel, which works well in its favor. As more and more shows try to get away with using the fact that they dont' take themselves seriously as an excuse for poor quality, it was nice to see a show that didn't take itself seriously for the right reasons. There's something about the idea that works in a bit of a fantasy world: everything is somehow saturated-yet-simplistic, which is what allows the show's bouncy, blunt sense of humor to fly. And further, that sense of humor stays decently fresh throughout the show. There are moments that get old, but such is the naure of the beast, I suppose. Generally speaking, the show is that kind of quirky that's become fashionable off-Broadway lately: silly and just as ridiculous as it sounds, and yet quite likeable, filled with one-liners and witty jokes.
I overheard that it was supposed to run 90 minutes, but it ended up running close to two hours without an intermission. If it's going to stay that length, it probably needs an intermission -- there are certainly plot points that allow for it. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say that there are points that felt like they should be leading to an intermission. But whichever way you slice it, two straight hours of quirky and underwear without a break can be a little much. There are also a few songs that could go, because it is the sort of show that could make a short and sweet one-act. It's perhaps wise not to take the audience out of a fairly stylized world.
Lastly (but certainly not least), it's got a lot of noteworthy performances. I saw Jordan Gelber back in the OBC days of Avenue Q, and he now departs from butch loser Brian, for which he's best known, about as much as is possible, with a spot-on performance as Cuda, Gina's fabulously flambuoyant co-worker and friend. David Rossmer provides expert comic relief (yes, possible even in a comedy) as the sarcastic and self-deprecating office Temp; he's over the top, and pefectly, endearingly so. Nicholas Ardell makes pretty-boy Kenny loveable despite what he lacks in substance. And not to mention Sandy Rustin, as Gina. Where did she come from? Her bio says she appeared in Don't Quit Your Night Job, which I can see being quite the perfect fit. I hope to see more of her in the future.
This one sold out fast, so it might be a moot point to encourage people to buy tickets. But if you were quick enough to snag tickets, you're in for what may be a somewhat skin-deep comedy, albeit one that'll certainly leave you laughing. And if it does, you probably got from it what was intended.
9.18.07
Okay, so it’s not quite as risqué as they want you to think. But it's fun. And it's campy. But it's good camp -- the proverbially winking, nudging kind that doesn't make you want to stab yourself in the eye.
Gina's boyfriend dumps her on her 35th birthday. To make matters worse, they work together at an advertising agency, and he's now run off to Bora Bora with her sexy, empty-headed secretary, leaving Gina to deal with work he's left behind. He was just about to start an ad campaign for underwear, a matter Gina feels is far outside the realm of her "smart girl" sensibility. While searching for the perfect slogan and attempting to re-invent herself, Gina falls in love with Kenny, a sweet, not-so-bright underwear model with an affinity for meteorology.
The show takes on a somewhat whimsical feel, which works well in its favor. As more and more shows try to get away with using the fact that they dont' take themselves seriously as an excuse for poor quality, it was nice to see a show that didn't take itself seriously for the right reasons. There's something about the idea that works in a bit of a fantasy world: everything is somehow saturated-yet-simplistic, which is what allows the show's bouncy, blunt sense of humor to fly. And further, that sense of humor stays decently fresh throughout the show. There are moments that get old, but such is the naure of the beast, I suppose. Generally speaking, the show is that kind of quirky that's become fashionable off-Broadway lately: silly and just as ridiculous as it sounds, and yet quite likeable, filled with one-liners and witty jokes.
I overheard that it was supposed to run 90 minutes, but it ended up running close to two hours without an intermission. If it's going to stay that length, it probably needs an intermission -- there are certainly plot points that allow for it. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say that there are points that felt like they should be leading to an intermission. But whichever way you slice it, two straight hours of quirky and underwear without a break can be a little much. There are also a few songs that could go, because it is the sort of show that could make a short and sweet one-act. It's perhaps wise not to take the audience out of a fairly stylized world.
Lastly (but certainly not least), it's got a lot of noteworthy performances. I saw Jordan Gelber back in the OBC days of Avenue Q, and he now departs from butch loser Brian, for which he's best known, about as much as is possible, with a spot-on performance as Cuda, Gina's fabulously flambuoyant co-worker and friend. David Rossmer provides expert comic relief (yes, possible even in a comedy) as the sarcastic and self-deprecating office Temp; he's over the top, and pefectly, endearingly so. Nicholas Ardell makes pretty-boy Kenny loveable despite what he lacks in substance. And not to mention Sandy Rustin, as Gina. Where did she come from? Her bio says she appeared in Don't Quit Your Night Job, which I can see being quite the perfect fit. I hope to see more of her in the future.
This one sold out fast, so it might be a moot point to encourage people to buy tickets. But if you were quick enough to snag tickets, you're in for what may be a somewhat skin-deep comedy, albeit one that'll certainly leave you laughing. And if it does, you probably got from it what was intended.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
A brief introduction...
Hello NYMF Blog readers!
I'm, needless to say, very excited for the kickoff of the festival in just over a week. It'll be a busy few weeks, no doubt, but I can think of very few better ways to spend my time than seeing live theater. The purpose of our blogging team is supposed to be something similar to the idea behind Broadway.com's "Word of Mouth" feature... but, if I may, with a bit more integrity. Hopefully you all won't hate us the way many in the theater community do "Word of Mouth," And hopefully, unlike the latter, we'll actually earn all of your respect.
I should probably use this opportunity to introduce myself... so, here's what you need to know about me: I'm just starting my senior year of college. I'm majoring in American Studies (I know, I know, "What's American Studies?") with a concentration in performance criticism and performance in American culture. I'm writing my senior thesis on John Doyle's production of Company -- an endeavor that is nothing if not the ultimate labor of love. (Since there are a few Company cast members in various NYMF shows, I'm sure you'll all be reading about my love for that production here at one point or another.) In addition to my internship with Broadway Bullet, I worked this past summer with Voice & Vision, a fantastic theater company whose focus is not on producing, but rather the development of works by female artists. Each year, Voice & Vision selects six projects for its two-week retreat at Bard College in Annandale-on-Hudson, New York, and provides them with a unique, intense opportunity to focus on the fragile development process. Before that, I was a literary intern at Ars Nova, and ollowing my first year of college (back in the day...), I interned at Second Stage Theatre. So I've bounced around. And I've loved every minute.
Anyway, NYMF! I believe very strongly in supporting the development of new musicals, so the Festival has always been one of my favorite parts of the year. Sure, a lot of the shows are rather imperfect, but I know I'm not alone in enjoying seeing works-in-progress and the glimpse it provides into a part of the process other than the end product. I'm guilty of a great love affair with The Great White Way, but it's certainly nice to see things that might be more daring (and, dare I say it, refreshing) than the giant commercial monsters that reign on Broadway. Not to mention that it's pretty cool to see a show early on, and then be able to say, "I saw it when..." when it goes on to get a full production. Case in point: I saw Feeling Electric at the Festival in 2005; now called Next to Normal, it's part of Second Stage's upcoming season. I thought it was fantastic even mid-development, and eagerly await the full production. I always find it rather fascinating to see a finished product after having seen an earlier version and be able to note the changes, improvements, etc.
As for this year's Festival, here's a list of the shows I'll be covering for the blog:
I See London, I See France (The Underwear Musical)
The Yellow Wood
The Boy in the Bathroom
Sympathy Jones
Austentacious
Maccabeat
Warsaw
With over 30 shows, choosing what to see each year can be a bit of an overwhelming task -- and to be honest, I often choose shows based on who's in them. That's the case for a few of the above, but with more room to choose this year, I'm attempting to expand that horizon.
Something more substantive -- and more specific musings on the shows -- coming very soon, I promise. I hope you'll stay tuned.
I'm, needless to say, very excited for the kickoff of the festival in just over a week. It'll be a busy few weeks, no doubt, but I can think of very few better ways to spend my time than seeing live theater. The purpose of our blogging team is supposed to be something similar to the idea behind Broadway.com's "Word of Mouth" feature... but, if I may, with a bit more integrity. Hopefully you all won't hate us the way many in the theater community do "Word of Mouth," And hopefully, unlike the latter, we'll actually earn all of your respect.
I should probably use this opportunity to introduce myself... so, here's what you need to know about me: I'm just starting my senior year of college. I'm majoring in American Studies (I know, I know, "What's American Studies?") with a concentration in performance criticism and performance in American culture. I'm writing my senior thesis on John Doyle's production of Company -- an endeavor that is nothing if not the ultimate labor of love. (Since there are a few Company cast members in various NYMF shows, I'm sure you'll all be reading about my love for that production here at one point or another.) In addition to my internship with Broadway Bullet, I worked this past summer with Voice & Vision, a fantastic theater company whose focus is not on producing, but rather the development of works by female artists. Each year, Voice & Vision selects six projects for its two-week retreat at Bard College in Annandale-on-Hudson, New York, and provides them with a unique, intense opportunity to focus on the fragile development process. Before that, I was a literary intern at Ars Nova, and ollowing my first year of college (back in the day...), I interned at Second Stage Theatre. So I've bounced around. And I've loved every minute.
Anyway, NYMF! I believe very strongly in supporting the development of new musicals, so the Festival has always been one of my favorite parts of the year. Sure, a lot of the shows are rather imperfect, but I know I'm not alone in enjoying seeing works-in-progress and the glimpse it provides into a part of the process other than the end product. I'm guilty of a great love affair with The Great White Way, but it's certainly nice to see things that might be more daring (and, dare I say it, refreshing) than the giant commercial monsters that reign on Broadway. Not to mention that it's pretty cool to see a show early on, and then be able to say, "I saw it when..." when it goes on to get a full production. Case in point: I saw Feeling Electric at the Festival in 2005; now called Next to Normal, it's part of Second Stage's upcoming season. I thought it was fantastic even mid-development, and eagerly await the full production. I always find it rather fascinating to see a finished product after having seen an earlier version and be able to note the changes, improvements, etc.
As for this year's Festival, here's a list of the shows I'll be covering for the blog:
I See London, I See France (The Underwear Musical)
The Yellow Wood
The Boy in the Bathroom
Sympathy Jones
Austentacious
Maccabeat
Warsaw
With over 30 shows, choosing what to see each year can be a bit of an overwhelming task -- and to be honest, I often choose shows based on who's in them. That's the case for a few of the above, but with more room to choose this year, I'm attempting to expand that horizon.
Something more substantive -- and more specific musings on the shows -- coming very soon, I promise. I hope you'll stay tuned.
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