Piaf (The SOB Review) - Vaudeville Theatre, London, United Kingdom
** (out of ****)
There are really only two worthwhile reasons to see the current, limited Donmar Warehouse West End transfer of Pam Gems'Piaf. And while those two reasons alone can't save Jamie Lloyd's 95-minute production from the mess it is, they've ironicly kept me from recommending against seeing the show.
Unfortunately, the play with music Gems has written comes across as a greatest hits package, and not necessarily of the tuneful variety. The game cast practically needs a revolving door to keep up with the show's many scrapes, murder, boxing jabs, car accidents and even plane crash. Although cast members shift from one portrayal to the next rather effortlessly, the audience is left to fend for itself in figuring out who's who. Most context and character development is left purely to the imagination, betraying the difficult, heartwrenching existence of the eponymous singer.
So thank goodness for Little Sparrows. Those two reasons for seeing the show I alluded to at the top that eclipse the madness on stage?
First is the opportunity to enjoy a live performance of the timeless songbook from the legendary "Little Sparrow" Edith Piaf. Second is to have it delivered by the abundantly assured and captivating actress Elena Roger in the title role. Just as she dazzled in last year's West End revival of Evita, once again, Roger proves a sensation. Succeeding in eerily channeling Piaf, Roger soars to make for one of the year's most extraordinary and magical performances, almost in spite of the ill-conceived production around her.
I for one can't wait to see what she does next and can only hope that Broadway is paying attention.
Given Menier's amazing string of successes, as well as the fact that A Little Night Music is one of the few remaining Sondheim musicals I've never seen, I let the effervescent SarahB at Adventures In The Endless Pursuit Of Entertainment convince me, one week ago today, to do what I could to acquire tickets for this show. This evening, I'll make my way back to the rather isolated Menier, raising a special toast in honor of Sarah, no doubt thinking to myself, "Well, isn't this rich?!"
Ivanov (The SOB Review) - Wyndham's Theatre, London, United Kingdom
**** (out of ****)
My recent experience of taking in the boring Broadway revival of Anton Chekhov's The Seagullnotwithstanding, I was dreading seeing another of the playwright's works so soon after landing in London.
After all, I had very little sleep on the flight across the pond, and the idea of taking in any matinee one day after gave me tremendous pause. How on earth was I going to stay awake?
Fortunately, the Michael Grandage-helmed revival of Chekhov's Ivanov was so vibrant and alive with pleasure, brimming with dark humor throughout, that I found myself completely rapt with attention. With excellent new adaptation from Tom Stoppard, Ivanov soars higher than any seagull dares fly.
I'll go even further to say that boredom was never this much fun. Entertaining and enlightening, literally and figuratively (nicely underscored by Paule Constable's gorgeous lighting design), this play about the bored upper classes drew requisite comic relief for its allusions to our current financial doom and gloom.
Even better, Ivanov captures ballast from one of the year's best ensembles on either side of the Atlantic. Yes, today's contemporary Laurence Olivier Kenneth Branagh was absolutely brilliant in the title role, but this actor's actor clearly knows how to graciously share a stage. Chief among them is the breathtaking Gina McKee as Ivanov 's long-suffering, gravely ill wife Anna Petrovna. McKee turns in one of the year's most heartfelt performances, radiating enough warmth to melt the icy bitterness from any Russian town, past or present.
With uniformly scintillating performances from a sterling cast that doesn't take itself too seriously, there's no doubt why Donmar Warehouse's superb Ivanov is the West End's must-see sensation this fall.
Eat your heart out Ben Brantley -- this is the real deal. I can only hope this revival receives a Broadway transfer.
While many of you may be contempla-ting whether to join in the frenzy known as Black Friday, yours truly has been contemplating one of a different variety here in London. After much hand-wringing, I've decided to take in the new West End stage adaptation of Barry Levinson's 1988 Academy Award-winning Best Film "Rain Man" this evening.
Now, I'm not sure what it is about Johnson directing latter-day stage incarnations of Dustin Hoffman flicks, and I'm hoping he'll spare us a stage version of "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium," but I find Rain Man intriguing, if for no other reason, trying to understand how Godley and Hartnett, who bear absolutely no physical resemblance to each other whatsoever, let alone accent, can pull off the brotherly duo of Charlie and Raymond Babbitt.
Perhaps it's a possibility only a savant could contemplate.
Rather than turkey this Thanksgiving, I'm in London where I'll enjoy a Little Sparrow this evening.
But rather than consuming a meal of the diminutive bird, I'll be in the audience for Donmar Warehouse's limited West End transfer of Pam Gems' Piaf. While I was disappointed in "La Vie En Rose" -- the disjointed biopic on the life of the "Little Sparrow" Edith Piaf -- I have long been mesmerized by the late French icon's unique song stylings.
Making the Jamie Lloyd-helmed Piaf particularly attractive, apart from the West End Whingers' enthusiastic endorsment, is that the breathtaking little dynamo Elena Roger is portraying the singer. I had the great fortune and pleasure of seeing Roger in the recent West End revival of Evita. If she's even half as wonderful as she was as Eva Peron, I know I'll have a very magical night at the theatre.
And lest you think that I have completely forsaken a traditional Thanksgiving, rest assured that the Love Of My Life and I will be joining American friends Daniel and Donna from Kentucky and Mary Ann from California, albeit for a traditional English champagne tea this afternoon at Claridge's. We'll certainly be counting our blessings.
And as we do so, I'll also be giving thanks for the friendships of so many of you who are reading Steve On Broadway (SOB). Thank you for joining me here.
While today's big theatrical event (for me) is reserved for this evening, this afternoon will find me taking in one of London's hottest tickets.
At the behest of Modern Fabulousity, I snared tickets to see Kenneth Branagh perform in the title role of a new revival for Anton Chekhov's Ivanov. Helmed by Michael Grandage, this "new version" of the classic play is supplied by none other than the estimable Tom Stoppard. This Donmar Warehouse production is also being performed as the launch of the theatre company's year-long residency at Wyndham's Theatre.
While described by many London critics as a "must see," the assessment mattering most to me was from the real arbiters of West End taste: the West End Whingers. I was relieved to read in their review:
Although Act 1 was distinctly un-gripping, Act 2 was better and good enough to get the Whingers back after the interval. It got grippier and grippier and by Act 4 the Whingers were having a whale of a time.
If not a whale of a time, I'm hoping my decision to reel in some tickets at least proves to be time well spent.
Right about now, I'm somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean en route to my second favorite city for seeing great theatre: London.
With the value of the dollar markedly better than it was a mere six months ago (essentially $1.54 per £1, versus the $2.05 I paid last April), I'm defying conventional wisdom that suggests no one is traveling far from home during this time of economic uncertainty.
My reason for going? Not only have I spent the majority of my Thanksgivings in London over the last 14 years, making this my own little holiday tradition, but this year, there's an extraordinary excuse. I'm flying to London so I can finally take in an opening night for Steppenwolf's August: Osage County. Barring any emergency, my third time attempt should prove to be the charm.
You see, even though I had tickets for the production's Chicago premiere a year ago last July, I found myself unable to attend, ironically due to a family function. But of course, once I caught Tracy Letts' modern masterpiece in early August 2007, I was effusive in my praise.
So taken was I with the show that I arranged to take in the transfer's opening night on Broadway. But a funny thing happened on the way to that auspicious occasion: the stagehands were striking, causing the Great White Way opening for August: Osage County to be postponed to a date when I was unavailable. Nevertheless, I managed to see what would become both a Pulitzer Prize and Tony-winning Best Play, first at its original Rialto home in the Imperial Theatre, and then again during its Tony-winning weekend at its current Music Box Theatre home.
While August: Osage County is still playing there, albeit to capacity crowds of just under 60%, the original cast -- including Tony winners Deanna Dunagan and Rondi Reed -- has moved on. But now, if you're willing to travel across the pond to London, you can see most of them recreate their roles one more time at the National Theatre, once again under the brilliant Tony-winning direction of Anna D. Shapiro.
In a recent What's On Stage story, Shapiro finally explains the etymology of the play's unusual title:
"August" means the end of something, while "Osage" is an indigenous people’s term for the place where they live and "County" stands for the colonial assignment by the other people who displaced them. This play had been stewing in Tracy Letts’ mind for years and by the time we got to workshops with the company -- we had two of those -- the whole process evolved organically and fairly straightforwardly.
I'm looking forward to being part of this next, exciting chapter in the continuing organic evolution of August: Osage County. Even more than being able to cheer the show on at June's Tony ceremonies, there's no place I'm more looking forward to being this year than Wednesday evening's first night performance of August in London.
Director Walter Bobbie and choreographer Randy Skinner may have been dreaming of Irving Berlin's White Christmasfor countless years, but now that the production is finally on Broadway, did it fulfill the critics' wildest dreams? Well, not quite.
Saying the show "makes for a bright evening," John Simon of Bloomberg appears to be alone among critics in getting caught up, at least a little, in the spirit of the season: "A problem with Irving Berlin’s White Christmas is that it cannot quite make up its mind whether to cheekily parody the mildly idiotic movie, or sweetly swoon over its antique innocence.... You might think that great songs can salvage anything, but many of the songs here are lesser Berlin. Still, there are those marvelously evocative Louizos sets and dazzlingly outrageous Robbins costumes for us to feast on. And Skinner’s clever dances, which, with far more limited personnel, still manage to lustily evoke the grandeur of Busby Berkeley and glory of Hermes Pan."
Complaining that "the orchestra sounds tinny and the production cries out for a smaller theater or a bigger chorus," Newsday's Linda Winer provides the first of many a pan: "White Christmas is a reasonable facsimile of what it's meant to be -- a manipulation of the sentimental holiday marketplace that does not disturb the seasonal equilibrium with a bubble of original thought.... [T]his is a straightforward, old-fashioned book-musical about a famous song-and-dance duo that falls for a couple of song-and-dance sisters while doing a good deed fora retired Army general whose Vermont inn is deep in debt. At Christmas."
Proclaiming that the show should "have an audience advisory -- for diabetics," USA Today's Elysa Gardner gives two and a half out of four stars: "Adapting the screenplay, David Ives and Paul Blake have left no sentimental stone unturned.... What this stage version does not have, obviously, is the cast that made the original 'White Christmas' an enduring favorite. It's unfair to compare any singing actor to Bing Crosby, but in this case, it's impossible not to. Stephen Bogardus brings undeniable grace and charm to the role of Bob Wallace, but he can't overcome the thinness of the libretto and the slickness of Walter Bobbie's direction."
Calling it "efficient but bland," The New York Times's Charles Isherwood was not finding much cheer: "[Y]ou’d have to be in a desperately, even pathologically nostalgic mood -- trawling the Internet in the wee hours for VHS copies of Lawrence Welk holiday specials, say -- to derive much joy from the stage retread of 'White Christmas,' a synthetically cozy trip down memory lane.... But the leading roles are really just place holders for star personalities, and none of the principals brings much in the way of wattage to their assignments. The romantic heat generated by both couples put together wouldn’t melt a snowflake."
Labeling the production as "a little creaky," Joe Dziemianowicz of New York's Daily News awards three out of five stars in his surprisingly thin review: "But as a holiday entertainment, it's light and bright and boasts some great production numbers."
Concluding that the musical "is artificial enough to bring out the inner Scrooge in anyone," New York Post's Frank Scheck ebeneezers with his two-star review: "[I]t's more than a little disappointing that the Broadway production of Irving Berlin's White Christmas is so lacking in genuine Yuletide spirit.... [T]he book (by David Ives and Paul Blake) is lumbering and unamusing, and while the four stars -- Stephen Bogardus, Jeffry Denman, Kerry O'Malley and Meredith Patterson -- ably fulfill their singing and dancing requirements, they lack the outsize personalities necessary to make us care about their cardboard characters."
Charging that the show "coasts along on the strength of its melodious numbers and sparkling visuals," Variety's David Rooney also offers a bah-humbug: "[T]his somewhat mechanical show feels like a road production staffed with mostly second-tier talent.... [T]he show makes little effort to fortify the movie's flimsy plot or disguise the contrived misunderstanding that fuels its central conflict.... Director Walter Bobbie's biggest hurdle is getting through the mummified book scenes, with their corny jokes. Aiding him, however, is that with 22 songs stuffed into two hours and change, it's never a long wait until the orchestra strikes up again, and the drippy dialogue gives way to polished -- if not quite dazzling -- vocals."
Will all this matter when New Yorkers and tourists alike are desperately seeking any kind of cheer, holiday or otherwise, this season? Perhaps not. With box office capacity in the mid 80 percentile, it may be some of the only green on Broadway this December.
Despite never knowing for certain just how shaky Mel Brooks' Young Frankensteinhas been faring at the box office (although with the deep discounts it's been offering, the writing's been on the wall), it's been an open secret that the show was in need of a major jolt to keep it going.
Alas, this evening, it was announced that the tuner adapted by Brooks from his cult film comedy classic would close on January 4, 2009, after 484 regular performances.
By the time the show finally opened, most critics had their knives out. Never mind that it actually was kind of entertaining. Now, the jig is up, and I dare say no one is crying over the loss of this one.
If ever there was a textbook example of how not to open a show or engender goodwill on the Great White Way, this is the one they'll be studying for years. Let's just hope they've learned a valuable lesson that won't soon be repeated.
Playbill reports that Telecharge was only selling tickets for performances through today, and it quotes producer Ben Sprecher as saying that a "provisional" closing notice was posted November 19:
If the box office doesn't drastically improve, American Buffalo will play its final performance on Sunday... If ticket sales spurt dramatically, I'll be glad to extend the show.
Don't bet any wooden nickels that the latter will occur.
UPDATE (11/24/08, 12:05 p.m.): While I have not seen official notice anywhere else, the American Buffalo Web site indicates that yesterday's performance was indeed the last.
Directed by Walter Bobbie and brilliantly choreographed by Randy Skinner, this recreation of the classic 1954 film has as its star the legendary score by Irving Berlin. (Never mind that the actual tune, "White Christmas" -- the all-time, best-selling single through 1997 -- was originally heard in the earlier, similarly themed Bing Crosby flick "Holiday Inn" from 1942.)
And speaking of my experience, I can't help but wonder if critics will be dreaming of the same red marks I lodged at the time. Find out tomorrow as I provide my critics' capsule.
The limited run of Irving Berlin's White Christmas is scheduled through January 4, 2009.
Perennially, the month of January marks the beginning of the cruelest times on Broadway, and this coming January will see yet another closing of another musical. This time, sorry to say, it's 13 that has posted its closing notice, scheduled for January 4, 2009.
But alas, 13 proved unlucky at the box office, where it only scored three weeks in attracting more than a 50% capacity crowd. Just this past week, it attracted a capacity of just 42.9%.
Given the rough sledding at the far end of Broadway (a/k/a Wall Street), it appears that 13 will pin its parting hopes on families seeking holiday cheer. Once the holidays have passed, 13 will be history, but will a tour be in the offing?
Calling the show "tart and delicious," The New York Times' Ben Brantley praises, singling out the playwright's own daughter for special attention: "As played with true comic genius by Hallie Foote, the covetous, calculating Mary Jo has absolutely no sense of humor. But it’s hard to think of anyone on a Broadway stage right now ... who’s funnier.... [E]ven without the gloss of relevance it has acquired since its New York premiere Off Broadway in September 2007, Dividing the Estate would still be a must for discriminating theatergoers. This production -- which arrives with most of its original cast, directed with hair-trigger timing by Michael Wilson -- has ripened into an ideally balanced ensemble piece, with acting that matches and magnifies Mr. Foote’s slyly and acutely observant writing."
Noting that the "deeply humanistic and funny play is old-fashioned in the best sense," New York Post's Frank Scheck awards three-and-a-half stars out of four: "Director Michael Wilson's assured production features a wonderful ensemble cast whose seamless work feels even more lived-in than it did earlier. It's easy to believe that this loving but endlessly bickering clan would drive themselves crazy if they failed to live up to the task of the play's title.... While all of the performances are first-rate, special praise must be reserved for Hallie Foote, the playwright's daughter."
Labeling the show a "sweetly satirical comedy," Variety's David Rooney is charmed: "The well-worn scenario is familiar from more than one chestnut of Southern drama. But the playwright's work, as always, is distinguished by the delicate brushstrokes of his characterizations, making seasoned stereotypes human and giving even the most venal of them some hint of redeeming vulnerability. Perhaps even more essential to the old-fashioned play's appeal is Foote's deep understanding of the personalities within a precisely defined subculture.... Under Michael Wilson's decorous direction, the cast has deepened its ties while maintaining the light touch, the relaxed flow and the melodiousness of the talk that are essential to Foote's plays."
Relieved that the play is "blessedly unchanged" from its earlier incarnation, Bloomberg's John Simon offers laurels: "A very late play such as “Dividing the Estate” is easily as good as, if not better than, his best earlier work.... Dividing the Estate will draw you into its drawing room and the shadows beyond with the theatrical equivalent of a page- turner, capturing your undivided attention as you hang on its teasing turmoil in guiltlessly glad complicity.
Concluding that "It's not as profound or ambitious as Broadway's other multigenerational melee, August: Osage County, but Foote's fine play does go down easy," Joe Dziemianowicz of New York's Daily News provides three-and-a-half stars out of five: "Under the deft direction of Michael Wilson, the actors are keener and the handsome production feels tighter. The drastic economic turndown, meanwhile, has given the situation tearing at the needy, greedy Gordon clan an even tangier bite.... Stage vet Ashley is highly amusing, even if she is about two decades too young to play an 85-year-old."
Looks like the show is clearly a winner. Look for it to receive multiple Tony nominations next spring.
This evening, the show that is arguably the most anticipated play to transfer to Broadway this season -- Horton Foote's acclaimed Off-Broadway hit from last fall Dividing The Estate -- opens this evening at the Booth Theatre.
Sad news for the New York theatre community, which today mourns the loss of veteran theatre critic Clive Barnes.
As recently as yesterday, Barnes was listed by the New York Postas "on leave" at the end of a review from Barbara Hoffman, without any further explanation.
Barnes had served as the arts critic for the New York Post for 31 years, and he used his mighty pen for The New York Times during the twelve years prior to that.
According to the notice of his death in the New York Post, he was clearly a theatre lover not bent on destroying a show like many of his contemporaries:
My ideal criticism is to write a notice about a play I didn't like, and yet send people to the theater to see it.
Quite frankly, if Barnes liked a show, I knew I wanted to see it. His rational voice in theatre discourse will be greatly missed. This is truly the end of an era.
Condolences to his wife Valerie Taylor and the rest of his family.
Deeming the revival "enjoyable if not revelatory," Newsday's Linda Winer provides a mixed assessment: "[T]his one has an exhilarating performance by John Leguizamo, who careens off Mamet's essence with a joy I missed in the oddly constricted Plow. Robert Falls, the Chicago-based director who exploded expectations from the inside in recent smashing revivals ... isn't blowing the lid off Mamet tradition in this straightforward production.... Do we need another American Buffalo in a season bereft of new plays? Of course not. Is it good to have it back? Sure."
Branding it a "deflated revival," Ben Brantleyof The New York Times clearly believes the production's talent wasn't up to the Mamet task: "In the latest version of American Buffalo, the words feel too limp to stick together, and each character seems to have a different mother tongue. This is a resounding disappointment, given the talent of those involved.... The rhythms of this production are those of a sitcom, with lots of empty space between lines to let audiences fully register jokes and outlandish figures of speech. Such an approach saps the strength of American Buffalo.... Nobody appears desperate here. Well, not the characters, anyway; the actors are another matter."
Taking note that "If the F-word really were an F-bomb, there would be nothing left of Times Square," Bloomberg's John Simon says that the sum doesn't equal the parts: "The play is skillfully directed by Robert Falls, who has choreographed some arresting movements and imposed fascinating changes in tempo and dynamics. The actors squeeze everything possible out of their parts, Cedric, for example, managing to say 'No' in peculiarly layered ways. There is even a vocal trio in the interplay of Cedric’s rumbling bass, Leguizamo’s whining, high-pitched tenor and Osment’s overeager or anxious countertenor. But put it all together and it spells blather of the peculiarly Mametian brand, in which obscenity and scatology sprout like mushrooms in damp, shady ground. Cut out the foulmouthed verbiage and the play would be appreciably shorter but hardly better. It might even lose what specious colorfulness it has."
Lamenting that the revival "sits so flatly on its impressive self," Variety's David Rooney also joins the chorus of critics wondering what happened: "Robert Falls' production drains much of the humor, urgency and anxiety from the piece, letting it amble along like an inflated actors' exercise in sustaining atmosphere without action.... Falls has proven himself repeatedly to be an exceptional director with actors. But while he gets capable work out of all three cast members on the surface, his naturalistic approach is not suited to Mamet's muscularly theatrical language. The actors too rarely get under their characters' skins to expose the bitter insecurity lurking there.... Dynamic as he is, Leguizamo's flashy tricks are part of the problem."
Concluding that this revival "rarely succeeds," Joe Dziemianowicz of New York's Daily News offers just two out of five stars: "Despite a starry cast of John Leguizamo, Haley Joel Osment and Cedric the Entertainer, who's miscast, the tepid two-hour two-act, directed by Robert Falls, makes the story seem very slight, with all the danger and combustibility of a book of soggy matches.... Leguizamo makes the character his own with a one-two wallop of scary-funny. He's constantly compelling as he roams nervously, grabs his crotch for emphasis and unleashes X-rated torrents.... Though he's an appealing actor, Cedric the Entertainer is so sitcom-cuddly and cute, he simply lacks the needed edge to convince as Don."
Asking, "Just how many f - - - ing David Mamet revivals do we need this season?" New York Post's Barbara Hoffman (does anyone know how Clive Barnes is, other than "on leave"???) awards just two out of four stars: "American Buffalo has all the profanity and none of the poetry. As directed by the usually estimable Robert Falls, with John Leguizamo, Cedric the Entertainer and Haley Joel Osment, it's flatter than a cow plop.... Cedric is a solid, almost fatherly Don who makes the most of the show's genuinely funny moments -- miming, say, the back end of a sexy bicyclist -- though he rolls his eyes a few times too many. And Osment, also new to Broadway, makes a touchingly vulnerable Bobby in a role that doesn't grow much. (This time, he sees bored people.)"
So there you have it folks. One Mamet revival receiving generally solid notices, followed by this one that reeks of critical disappointment. Interesting to note that the former is the one that had scheduled a limited run. Wonder if the team associated with the latter is rethinking their plans?
With two-time Tony winning director Robert Falls at the helm, the play stars John Leguizamo as Walter Cole, Cedric the Entertainer as Donny Dubrow, and Haley Joel Osment as Bobby. The American Buffalo revival marks the Broadway debuts for both Messrs. Kyle (a/k/a "the Entertainer") and Osment.
American Buffalo, of course, is the second Mamet revival currently performing on Broadway, with the limited run of Speed-The-Plowhaving opened just last month to primarily good reviews.
Will critics be ready to toast this one as well? Find out tomorrow as I provide my regular critics' capsule.
Despite incredible reviews, three Tony-winning performances and its rightful place as simply the best musical ever, Arthur Laurents' stunning Broadway revival of Gypsyhas posted its closing notice for March 1, 2009. That date coincides with the end of Patti LuPone's contract.
With timeless score by Jule Styne and Stephen Sondheim, LuPone has delivered a tour de force performance for the ages as Mama Rose that has practically been matched measure for measure by Boyd Gaines as Herbie and Laura Benanti in the title role.
At the box office, Gypsy enjoyed a slight increase last week over the week before, attracting a capacity of 63.2% and grossing $593,242. But since LuPone's name is firmly above the title, it's hard to imagine this production with anyone else filling her (sometimes Isotoned) shoes.
Personally, I'm thrilled that I not only had the rare opportunity to witness history being made when LuPone first performed as Rose three summers ago, but found myself transfixed and transported when I saw her perform at the St. James just two days after the revival opened.
So, all this begs the question of whether Patti LuPone might renew her consideration of recreating her triumph across the pond on the West End stage. If she goes, I just may go myself.
Directed by the same man who directed the 2000 film, Stephen Daldry, and with a book and lyrics written by the same man who wrote the original screenplay, Lee Hall, this tuner's music is by Sir Elton John.
Most critics have showered the show with praise. It's been ages since I've seen this type of swooning over a new tuner.
Declaring that "Broadway's long, dark, dry spell of big, smart, smash musicals is officially over," now that the "seriously thrilling" and "deeply lovable" Billy Elliot has opened, Newsday's Linda Winer heaps on the huzzahs all around: "The show is crawling -- not to mention tapping and leaping -- with dauntingly talented children, presented with a blissful lack of preciosity and lots of blazing intelligence and theatricality by director Stephen Daldry and choreographer Peter Darling.... On the basis of Tuesday's Billy, David Alvarez, the massive demands of this star role have not been overstated. Alvarez is terrific - with a grave-kid undercurrent, lots of unforced charm, finely sculpted long muscles and the ability to unspool ballet wizardry without losing the remarkable elegance of his line. His singing is simple and direct, with a musicality more important than show-biz salesmanship. About those songs. Elton John has written an ambitious, varied, altogether satisfying grown-up score."
Concluding by thanking "Maggie Thatcher, for giving us something to sing about," New York Post's Barbara Hoffman awards four out of four stars: "proving itself the best gift from Britain since 'Harry Potter.'... But unlike so many shows that plod from screen to stage, Billy Elliot: The Musical makes the leap from reheated adaptation to reimagined creation. For that we can thank not only director Stephen Daldry, writer Lee Hall and a wonderful cast -- but also Elton John, whose idea it was to make it a musical in the first place.... Whether it's ballet, modern or tap -- or, in one case, tap-dancing while jumping rope -- dance is the show's single best special effect."
Proclaiming that the tuner "really does have something for everyone, and that something is, gloriously, art," Bloomberg's John Simon is laudatory: "The story unfolds with drama and humor, exciting and tender moments. Expertly staged by Stephen Daldry, it is dazzlingly choreographed by Peter Darling in some breathtaking dance sequences of various genres, from classical ballet to contemporary forms.... There are mostly rousing but occasionally jolly Elton John songs, with simple but apposite lyrics by Lee Hall.... And then, amazingly, there is Billy.... I caught David Alvarez, a riveting prodigy: actor, singer, fabulous ballet and tap dancer (note his double tours) and spectacular acrobat. He combines skills few adults could match, and sustains them throughout a long and demanding evening."
Praising Billy Elliot as "that rare production -- one that brings all the elements together and creates a fresh emotional experience," Joe Dziemianowicz of New York's Daily News is also similarly enthusiastic: "The show's creative forces -- Stephen Daldry, Lee Hall and Peter Darling -- who repeat duties as director, writer and choreographer, and who are joined by composer Elton John -- are to be commended for bringing Billy to the theater with smarts, clarity (yes, Americans will 'get' the across-the-pond references, including the expletives), imagination and tender loving care.... Even more than the terrific 2000 movie, the musical amplifies Billy's place in his community.... David Alvarez, who was on at my performance, is a dazzling dancer, strong actor and capable singer. As his brassy ballet teacher in shocking pink (and purple) tights, Haydn Gwynne, who originated the role in London in 2005, is a sublime mix of bark, bite and big-heartedness."
Postulating that the "show both artfully anatomizes and brazenly exploits the most fundamental and enduring appeal of musicals themselves," The New York Times' Ben Brantley is surprisingly smitten: "Mr. Daldry and company turn tripe into triumph by making us understand the depth of the appeal of its classic show-business fairy tale, not only to us but also to the people whose dreary daily existences touch on Billy’s.... The performances, for the most part, are broader than they were in London, with more mugging and heart-tugging stickiness. But the two most essential portrayals -- that of Ms. Gwynne and Mr. Alvarez -- were spot-on the night I saw the show.... Billy Elliot never doubts that it’s the sobriety that endures in life. Which makes those intoxicating, fleet-footed flashes of art, where leaden bodies fly and discord turns into harmony, all the more to be cherished."
Asking, "Who would have guessed that a musical in which conservative economic policies deal a death blow to the working class could be such an uplifting experience?" Variety's David Rooney offers praise: "American audiences would have no trouble connecting with the universal sentiment of this bittersweet dual celebration of community and individuality.... The basic plot skeleton of an underdog rescued from adversity by the purity of his artistic pursuit is a familiar one, but it's given integrity here by the rich, melancholy textures of Hall's cultural and political backdrop.... Elton John's songs are more often serviceable than memorable, and the ballads are treacle, but there's a nice, brass-heavy Brit sound to the orchestrations that adds to the show's strong sense of place. Regardless of their quality as showtunes, almost all the significant numbers are elevated by Daldry's propulsive staging into buoyant setpieces."
Citing the show's "unapologetically sentimental score" and "characters ... drawn in broad strokes ... but little nuance," USA Today's Elysa Gardner still offers up a three-star review: "Billy Elliot shines brightest when its younger cast members are center stage, particularly when they're on their toes. A few production numbers lean too heavily on cute shtick -- there are dancing dresses and an enormous Thatcher puppet that may scare the kids -- but Peter Darling's choreography makes the raw, restless exuberance of youth accessible to all. In one sequence, Billy imagines and shadows an older version of himself, and both leap across the stage as the rapturous strains of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake swell around them. And for a few moments -- no matter where you're from -- it's impossible to not be transported by this kid's amazing grace."
So with Wall Street in continued meltdown, could Billy Elliot - The Musical be exactly the right salve at the right time? We'll find out as our next stop is the box office.
Sister Act - The Musical is now officially scheduled for its London bow. Whoopi Goldberg and Stage Entertainment are set to produce the stage show at the West End's Palladium Theatre.
The official opening (or first) night is currently scheduled for June 2, 2009. Previews start on May 6.
It may have taken a little while longer than originally expected, but you heard it here first back in March.
That measure, which narrowly passed in last week's election, strips away the right to marry for the state's gay and lesbian population.
Of course, it didn't seem to matter to the majority of Californians that straightpeoplehavelongbeen undermining the institution of marriage or that the biggest proponent for the measure was a church that formerly embraced polygamy or that the world didn't end when the state's gays and lesbians began marrying or that voters were taking granted rights away from a select group of people who they deem not good enough to be allowed to marry, yet they're more than OK when it comes to paying taxes.
According to the Sacramento Bee, after Eckern's support for the measure was revealed, "Gay and lesbian artists called Monday for an artistic and audience boycott of California." Undoubtedly, that is what led California Musical Theatre Executive Producer Richard Lewis to convene an emergency meeting of the board of directors and issue the following statement:
Any political action or the opinion of Scott Eckern is not shared by California Musical Theatre. We have a long history of appreciation for the LGBT community and are truly grateful for their longstanding support.
By yesterday, Eckern, who had been with the California Musical Theatre for 25 years and professes to have a lesbian sister, resigned in midst of the maelstrom. According to the Bee, the embattled artistic director released a statement in which he "said that he 'honestly had no idea' that the contribution would spark such an outrage and made the donation to act on his belief as the traditional definition of marriage be preserved."
His statement also said, in part:
...after prayerful consideration to protect the organization and to help the healing in the local theatre-going and creative community.... I support each individual to have rights and access, and I understand that in California domestic partnerships come with the same rights that come with marriage.... I definitely do not support any message or treatment of others that is hateful or instills fear.... This is a highly emotional issue and the accusations that have been made against me are simply not true.... I am disappointed that my personal convictions have cost me the opportunity to do what I love the most which is to continue enriching the Sacramento arts and theatre community.
Now, as regular readers know, I am completely and unabashedly a vigorous proponent of our First Amendment right to Free Speech. Make no mistake, I will defend Mr. Eckern's right to donate as he chooses, however misguided I happen to believe he was (I mean really! What was he thinking?! Doesn't he realize he's biting the hand that has fed him for the past 25 years, as surely many within musical theatre's base are gay, including his top subscribers, donors, artists, casts and crews?!?!)
Having said that, I also must defend those who were exercising their right to vote with their pocketbooks against the theatre by boycotting it. Why would any of them want to continue supporting an organization that had as its artistic director, the individual whose vision is supposed to be open to all the possibilities, someone who would cash in on his gay base and essentially saying, "We'll take your dollars, including for shows like The Color Purple and Avenue Q, but you'd better not be married!"
In retrospect, in reaping what he has sown, Mr. Eckern was probably not best suited for the occupation he has abruptly left.
This evening, after 40 preview performances, what is arguably the Broadway Season's most anticipated new tuner finally opens at the Imperial Theatre. Based on the 2000 film, Billy Elliot The Musical lands on the Great White Way after packing them in across the pond in London for over three years, along with another year of success Down Under.
If the musical seems true to the original movie, it's because of the artistry behind it. Not only does Academy Award nominated director Stephen Daldry recreate the electricity on stage, but the film's Oscar nominated screenwriter Lee Hall has also written the tuner's book, as well as the lyrics that accompany the music written by Sir Elton John.
Actress Haydn Gwynne is the only transfer from the original West End production. She will recreate the role of Billy's dance teacher Mrs. Wilkinson. Three young actors will alternate as the eponymous character: David Alvarez this evening, and then Trent Kowalik and Kiril Kulish on successive nights. Likewise, the role of Billy's young friend Michael will alternate between David Bologna and Frank Dolce.
Personally, I have not yet purchased my tickets for the Broadway incarnation having already seen both the original London production three years ago this month and the Australian production in Sydney just over three months ago. But you can bet that I'll be providing my critics' capsule of all the major reviews tomorrow.
Shutter the thought, but apparently, they're cutting their losses early as they are expediting the closing for Broadway musical flop. The show will close tomorrow instead of one week from Sunday.
To use of the critical quotes currently highlighted on the tuner's Web site (thank you Elysa Gardner), it's impossible not to be moved. Surely, these must be the worst of times for the cast and crew alike.
Perhaps it was a far, far better thing on paper than the turkey that opened just two months ago at Broadway's Al Hirschfeld Theatre, but the two-month old tuner A Tale Of Two Cities used Election Day in electing to post its closing notice for November 16. Perhaps they thought no one would notice!
The $16 million musical, adapted from Charles Dickens' classic book, opened to dismal reviews. The critical response, mixed with a tough economy, resulted in a tepid box office. This past week, the show attracted a capacity of only 44.5% -- hardly enough to sustain itself over the long haul.
Personally, I had absolutely no desire to see this show, particularly after taking the advice of countless friends, as well as witnessing the overwrought and overblown debacle on the West End known as Gone With The Wind.
Once it closes, A Tale Of Two Cities will have performed just 68 regular performances.
Congratulations to our new President-Elect Barack Obama and our new Vice President-Elect Joe Biden.
Now that they have proven victorious in being elected to the White House, I'd like to offer timely and appropriate words offered by its very first occupant, President John Adams, founding father and second president of the United States:
"I pray Heaven to bestow the best blessings on this house and all that shall hereafter inhabit. May none but honest and wise men ever rule under this roof." - John Adams in letter to his wife Abigail Adams November 2, 1800
I join in wishing our leaders godspeed and wisdom.
As a staunch and vigorous defender of the Freedom of Speech, I'm urging all Steve On Broadway (SOB) readers in the United States to let your voice be heard today.
Given my love for live theatre, I realize that there would be no freedom of expression for this or any type of art form were it not for the United States Constitution.
We must not take it or our other freedoms for granted. Please vote today!
Passed over initially because Brooks didn't want her to "die on stage," Leachman challenged him via her representative Steve Rohr "to three rounds in the ring, and we'll see who's left standing."
What a difference a slice of reality television can make. Leachman is asked about a second crack at Young Frankenstein in a Q&A with Newsweek:
Is it true Mel Brooks wants you to reprise your part in Young Frankenstein on Broadway? Yeah. We're negotiating.
He once said you were so old, he worried you'd die onstage. He's not worried anymore. Corky [Ballas, her dance partner on the show] threw me around today on "The View," and I thought I was dead when I stood up. I can't tell you—I really thought I died! I thought I was in heaven.
If Brooks manages to bring the 82 year old actress back to the Broadway boards for her first time in nearly 50 years, far from being a neigh-sayer, I'll be happy to plunk down a little spare cash to cheer her on and hear those horses whinny but good.
Rain: A Tribute To The Beatles Limited run extended through May 31, 2011 (Show will go on hiatus starting January 15 and reopen at Brooks Atkinson Theatre on February 8)
Rock Of Ages - Open-ended run (Show will go on hiatus starting January 9 and reopen at Helen Hayes Theatre in March)
As someone who has been involved in both politics and public relations, it's no wonder I love watching theatre. Good or bad, it's the raw energy of seeing a live performance that gets my adrenaline pumping. From the moment I saw my very first Broadway show ("Annie" in London in 1979), I was hooked. Now I see as many as 70 shows each year ranging from soaring musicals to two-hander plays. And these eyes just may be in an audience near you!
Piaf (The SOB Review) - Vaudeville Theatre, London, United Kingdom
