The Story of My Life Could've Been So Much More

I am very bad about getting reviews out in a timely manner. And then by the time I get around to it, they are no longer relevant because most of what I would have said has already been said by people far more important than me. Story of my life…

Speaking of which – how’s this for a crappy segue? – I saw the modest tuner The Story of My Life two days before its recent Broadway opening. The premise, sentimental and schmaltzy, was right up my alley. I’m also a longtime fan of Malcolm Gets and a new fan of Will Chase (thanks to the Rent: Live on Broadway DVD). Throw Richard Maltby, Jr. in the director’s chair, and you have a show with a lot going for it.

So what is the premise?

Two friends make a deal as kids – he who survives will eulogize. Thomas Weaver (Chase), finds himself in the sad circumstance where he has outlived his lifelong friend, Alvin Kelby (Gets). In a series of flashbacks, he attempts to put together the pieces of the past by “writing what he knows” for his friend’s funeral.

Basically, if Sunday In The Park with George, Merrily We Roll Along, Groundhog Day and It’s A Wonderful Life all walked into a piano bar, The Story of My Life is what would walk out, drunk and sloppy, with nowhere to go…

While the show does have a few nice moments, it never really packs the punch I was hoping for. We don’t really understand the reasons the two characters make the choices they do – to stay behind or to move on, to wed or to not, to pursue a dream or to be happy with the cards you’re dealt. Perhaps if we understood that better we would care more at certain points in the play. The one memory that repeats and builds throughout the show ends in a big “So what?” I felt a little gypped.

The music and lyrics by Neil Bartram were nice enough but nothing I left the theatre humming. One of the first songs in the show, “Mrs. Remington”, is catchy and clever and it sort of set an expectation that was never really met again. Also worth a mention is “The Butterfly”, a tidy little story song that serves as the perfect opportunity to showcase Chase’s vocal agility. It is also a song that will likely be plumping the audition books of aspiring singers everywhere. The book, by Brian Hill, services the score nicely enough but it never really peels back the scab, which might help this show have a little more impact.

The fact remains that Gets and Chase are both talented performers and, while the story is bland, the two actors carrying the show are not. Gets is intense and affable as Alvin and Chase is charming and aloof as Thomas.

Robert Brill's simple monochromatic set, with stacks of books that fade into a white wall, is striking. It serves as the canvas for some cool lighting effects by designer Ken Billington but for some reason I thought it would go further or do more and it didn’t. And, pretty as it is, when you start seeing snow fall from the rafters 30 minutes into the show, it kind of ruins the moment when it snows at the end.

Overall, I was nonplussed. I didn’t love it. I didn’t hate it. Even though I saw the show at a deeply discounted price, I still feel I should have been a little more satisfied my entertainment dollar investment. In actuality, I feel that that night, my money was better spent on the sushi dinner at Kodama.

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UPDATE (02/21/2009):

After having had only 5 performances and 18 previews, The Story of My Life will close after its February 22nd matinee.

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Cry-Baby (Or "What I Become When A Musical Doesn't Have A Story")

Despite the brouhaha-inducing potential of making critical commentary before a show has opened, I feel that there are instances when protocol can be broken. In a struggling economy where our hard-earned dollar can be spent on any number of stellar shows currently running on Broadway, I feel fair warning is justified. Besides, if Michael Riedel can do it, why can’t I?

The musical adaptation of John Waters’ 1990 film Cry-Baby, currently in week three of a six-week preview cycle, has been highly anticipated by fans of his films and/or its Tony and Olivier Award-winning predecessor Hairspray. While I enjoyed Hairspray, I don’t know if I would have feverishly pursued the ticket to Cry-Baby based solely Hairspray's success. Were it not for the coinciding opportunity to meet fellow theatre bloggers, I probably would not have seen Waters’ sophomore Broadway offering. But I did – and I wasn’t crazy about it.

Set against the backdrop of 1954 Baltimore, Cry-Baby tells the tale of bad boy Wade “Cry-Baby” Walker and the mutual attraction he has with good girl Allison Vernon-Williams. Oft compared to Grease, this musical lacks focus and, more importantly, a compelling story. Unlike Hairspray’s very serious subplot of racial equality, Cry-Baby struggles to find a single story arc, let alone one or more B stories.

Despite this critical flaw, every effort is made to provide an entertaining piece of musical theatre. Schlesinger and Javerbaum’s score, bouncy but forgettable, serves as the footing for intermittently clever lyrics and Rob Ashford’s choreography, which is arguably the best element of the show. Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan’s book is chock full of one-liners/groaners but none so clever that I will be quoting Cry-Baby anytime soon.

Admittedly, I was pulling for newcomer James Snyder, whose work I’ve enjoyed immensely on the definitive recording of bare: the musical. While he does an admirable job with the title role, I wouldn’t say that I was blown away. I fault the material in this particular case, not the performer. But I might be a little biased…

The remainder of the cast also performs admirably, pumping every ounce of their energy into the production, but to no great avail. Elizabeth Stanley, most noted for her turn as April in the recent revival of Company, is charming and Harriet Harris is well-cast as the Donna Reed-esque grandmother. However, both roles do the corresponding talent a disservice. In fact, the only character that truly stands out is Alli Mauzey’s Lenora, whose “Screw Loose” is a highlight of the show.

All in all, Cry-Baby is entertaining, in a fluffy, “thank God I paid half-price for that” sort of way. From what I understand, the last two weeks of previews have put Cry-Baby through several changes. Judging from John Waters’ post-show appearance at Angus McIndoe with notebook in hand, I’m certain more are to come. And maybe those changes will help see Cry-Baby through the summer months. Maybe.

JRB's Parade Makes West End Debut

As I mentioned in a recent post, I spent this past weekend in London on a bit of a theatre binge. Since I've got another one coming this weekend, I figured I should be diligent in my posting so that I am sure to get all my reviews and commentary in while they are still relevant!

My Friday evening was spent at the London production of Wicked. Mind you, I was fortunate to have seen the original Broadway cast, with the exception of Norbert Leo Butz who was having back surgery. But his understudy was Taye Diggs, so that was cool. What was not cool was the fact that I was suffering from a rapid onset of the flu and don't really remember that much of it. Of course, I have since become very familiar with the show and was happy to finally see it with a clear head.

Saturday afternoon was spent at the Dirty Dancing matinee. You can read my complete review but I think I can sum it up in one comment: The only way that you will get me to see that show again would be if Prince William himself was Johnny Castle. I'm appalled that the presale for this show was the equivalent of ~$24M. GAWD!

Fortunately my Saturday night ended on a theatrical high. When I was checking out listings, I was absolutely thrilled to stumble upon the fact that JRB's Parade was due to begin previews the very weekend I was going to be in London's West End. I have been wanting to see this show live and what better place than at the respected Donmar Warehouse?

After a quick spot of Indian food, I headed over to the Donmar to watch this haunting and distinctly American musical unfold before a British audience. Rob Ashford, who was the swing in the Broadway production, adapted the musical nicely to the small space and effectively reduced the cast size from a staggering 35 to a modest 15.

The story, based on actual events, is skillfully retold by Tony and Pulizter Prize-winning author Alfred Uhry and the increasingly popular composer Jason Robert Brown. Set in 1913 Atlanta, Parade tells the story of Leo Frank, a Jewish businessman who is accused of killing a 13-year-old girl in the basement of his pencil factory. The ensuing trial and media circus provides a timely commentary on one of those shameful points in American history where ignorance and greed will out over truth and justice.

After having sat through an afternoon of tortured American accents, I was pleased to see that this cast had been well-coached. Their Southern drawl was believable enough to pass muster with me anyway. So I was able to quickly more to the heart of this production. The cast. Led quite impressively by Bertie Carvel as the mild-mannered Leo Frank, this troupe manages their multiple roles in a way that truly defines ensemble.

Ashford's crisp staging has the actors facilitating the scene changes, allowing little opportunity for interstitial applause. This technique benefits this particular production nicely and is aptly managed through use of music, a quickly-paced dialogue or the establishment of a new scene. While Ashford is noted for his Tony Award-winning choreography, I felt his staging bested his choreography, which came off as frenetic and out of place. Also out of place was the "phantom actress", who was double-cast as Lila and Mary Phagan, when she appeared from time to time in full Scarlett O'Hara regalia.

Jason Robert Brown's music really is quite beautiful. And there are moments in this score that just cut you to core. Almost as harrowing as Moritz Stiefel's funeral in Spring Awakening is the scene when the young girl who has been murdered is buried. Making use of the traditional hymn, "There Is A Fountain", Brown overlays the ballad "No It Don't Make Sense" with devastating effect. Watching a parent bury a child is about as gut-wrenching as it gets and, in this instance, it is exquisitely accompanied by the score.

I was disappointed, however, that "Big News" was cut from this production, as it really is a great piece. However, it is challenging for even the best of singers and sometimes directorial and artistic decisions have to be made. There are several other beautiful ballads in Parade but the song that you leave the theatre humming is "The Old Red Hills Of Home". The show's opener and closer, with its patriotic build and well-blended harmonies, is gloriously sung by this London cast.

Of course, every cast has its standouts. Carvel navigated his character's emotional and vocal levels with just the right blend of timidity and fortitude. Lara Pulver delivered a fine performance as Lucille, Frank's crusading and supportive wife. However, there is a lyric describing Lucille Frank as a mousy wife and Ms. Pulver read more stunning and refined than mousy. Mark Bonnar was convincingly detestable as the prosecuting attorney, Hugh Dorsey, and Stuart Matthew Price, as the murdered girl's vengeful friend, countered the ugliness of his character with a lovely tenor.

The minimalist set served the various scenes nicely, with an upper level used for the factory, the judge's bench, a fishing bridge and the gallows from which Leo Frank is lynched. This climactic moment needs a little tightening, as it seemed an eternity that I was focusing on the caribiner being attached to the actor's harness. The backdrop, a weathered portrait of a community in the Confederate South, added a bit of interest without being overbearing. The one exception is when the Confederate flag is illiminated by a garish red light for some reason, which I can't recall. It must not have been to any tremendous dramatic effect or I think I would remember.

The costumes remained within period, with the exception of the black jersey-knit boxer briefs that Leo Frank was wearing when he stripped down to his skivvies. I don't usually tend to comment on costumes, unless something really stands out. Since this was the second public performance, I will presume that the safety pins that held many of the costumes will be replaced by sturdy thread. And while I am commenting, they needn't bother strapping down the bosoms of the actresses portraying the younger set, it does not flatter the costumes. I'm quite certain all will be in order come opening night. Believe me, I know what opening weekends can be like.

All in all, I found this production to be very moving. It had the right blend of talent, structure and material to make me feel as though I spent my money wisely. This is definitely a production where the return on your investment stays with you long after you paid your credit card bill.

I Am A Junkie

And my junk is Spring Awakening.

It is 2:00am and I just returned from seeing it the first time. Given the hour, I am going to make this simple: GO SEE IT!

If you have not purchased or downloaded the recording - do so now! Most of the people that I know have said that they loved the music - regardless of how they feel about the production or the story. WARNING: Not a CD to be played around the kiddies... But you'll find yourself turning it up when they're not around!

Next, if you've not already done so, order your tickets so that you have the opportunity to see the original cast. It seems that the leads are in quite high demand so they will likely move on pretty quickly. It is also worthy to note that the entire cast, save Christine Estabrook and Steven Spinella, are under 21. Their boundless energy and incredible talent are amazing. You will find yourself on your feet. I know I did.

OK - I am tired now and tomorrow promises to be a long day but I promise to deliver a detailed review after I've had a nap.