Review of "Blithe Spirit"

Thank goodness for Angela Lansbury. She is really the one reason to see the revival of the Noel Coward comedy, Blithe Spirit, now on Broadway. As medium Madame Acarti, Lansbury gives a kooky, comedic, yet nuanced performance that enlivens the production whenever she sets foot on stage. It’s too bad she spent all those years in Hollywood with Murder, She Wrote. Now, I was a big fan of that television mystery series, but when I think of the twelve years she was out there instead of gracing the Broadway stage, I am very saddened.

But, I regress. Unfortunately, Blithe Spirit itself doesn’t have much else to offer. Granted, Rupert Everett and Jayne Atkinson, playing the married couple Charles and Ruth, are experienced actors, Everett more in films. They play their roles well, but the verbal repartee between the two wears thin quickly. Maybe if I had as many drinks as what the characters consumed during the show I would feel otherwise.

The major disappointment is Christine Ebersole as Elvira, the ghostly first wife of Charles, inadvertently summoned back from the ethereal world during a séance conducted by the eccentric Madame Acarti. Ebersole flits from one end of the stage to another, flapping her silky gown along the way. She creates a bit of mischief here and there for Charles, who is the only one that can see and hear her, but her hijinks become quite boring rather quickly. Sometimes, I sensed Ebersole didn’t know what to do with herself. One wonders what director Michael Blakemore, who has done outstanding work on Broadway throughout the years, was trying to accomplish.

One other bright spot in the production was Susan Louise O’Connor as the daft servant Edith. In between Coward’s non-stop, sophisticated chatter and witticisms O’Connor entertains us with silliness and a dash of slapstick.

Blithe Spirit, another golden opportunity to take in what could be another Tony winning performance by Angela Lansbury.

Review of "42nd Street" at Goodspeed Opera House

Ah, those dancing feet. Those tap dancing feet. They are just one of the many joys from the Goodspeed Opera House’s slightly uneven production of 42nd Street, now running through July 4th. I’m a sucker for great tap dancing and there is plenty of it on display in this musical comedy fable. Right at the show’s start the curtain rises, stopping midway above the stage, to reveal a gaggle of gorgeous gams hoofing it at breakneck speed. Moments later the curtain finishes its climb as we are introduced to one of the best looking and most talented ensembles I have seen at a Goodspeed production. They are young, energetic, and very eager to please.

42nd Street is the ageless story of a star is born. Young Peggy Sawyer, fresh off the bus from Allentown, PA, manages to make the chorus of the new Julian Marsh directed Broadway musical, Pretty Lady, and by show’s end gets her big break to become an overnight sensation. Kristen Martin is perfect as the naïve, doe-like, youthful Peggy Sawyer. She is attractive, can dance up a storm and has a rapturous voice. Unfortunately, her two male leads are not as well-cast. Austin Miller as juvenile lead, Billy Lawlor, is more of a poseur than actor. He plays Lawlor as a buffoon rather than a good-natured casanova. When he sings or dances he doesn’t connect with the audience which makes for a very distracting performance. James Lloyd Reynolds, as veteran director, Julian Marsh, is ruggedly handsome, but does not give us the impression of someone who has been slugging it out in the Broadway trenches for decades. He seems always in high gear, barking out his lines; there is little subtlety or shading in his portrayal. However, the supporting cast is superb led by Dale Hensley and Dorothy Stanley as the songwriting and acting team of Bert Barry and Maggie Jones. They inject a measured amount of humor and zinging one-liners into the production. Jennifer Foote is also a delight as seasoned showgirl, Ann Reilly.

One of the real gems of 42nd Street is the choreography by Rick Conant. Whether it is the soft shuffle to “Go Into Your Dance” or the high octane Act I finale of “We’re in the Money,” Conant sets up one crowd pleasing number after another. The score by Harry Warren and Al Dubin is a treasure trove of musical theater hits—“You’re Getting to be a Habit With Me,” “We’re in the Money,” “There’s a Sunny Side,” “Lullaby of Broadway,” “Shuffle Off to Buffalo,” and the title number, “Forty-Second Street.” You could not ask for anything more.

Ray Roderick’s direction keeps the show taut, working well with the other members of the show’s creative team. Besides the bumps in the road with actors Miller and Reynolds, he mounts an efficient and ultimately satisfying production. Special mention should also go to costume designer, David Lawrence, for some whimsical, yet stylish outfits that hark back to the fanciful and extravagance of 1930’s stage and screen musicals.

42nd Street, shuffling along through July 4th at the Goodspeed Opera House in East Haddam, CT.

Review of "Accent on Youth"

David Hyde-Pierce is a marvelous comedic actor which he has shown to great ability in Spamalot, Curtains (winning the Tony Award for Best Actor in a Musical) and, of course, in the long-running television program, Frasier. However, in the Manhattan Theatre Club’s revival of the Samson Raphaelson comedy, Accent on Youth, Hyde-Pierce, playing aging playwright Stephen Gaye, inspired by love on stage, but a failure off, is rather underwhelming. The fault is not in the actor himself or the supporting cast or even the fine direction by Daniel Sullivan, but with Raphaelson’s script. More a meditation on the subject of love, the show glides through its very short Act I and then lumbers through a more substantial Act II.

David Hyde-Pierce does have some very funny scenes and his presence is always welcome on a New York stage. However, this show belongs to Charles Kimbrough as the spunky, ever-pleasing, and aged butler, Flogdell. Kimbrough, better know for his television work in Murphy Brown, demonstrates a keen sense of comic timing and movement. He is such a joy to behold. Byron Jennings is splendid as actor Frank Galloway, an older thespian enjoying spectacular success in the new Stephen Gaye drama. The rest of the cast, while fine, did not bring anything special to the production.

Accent on Youth, a trifling affair, now at the Manhattan Theatre Club’s Samuel Friedman theater on West 47th Street.

Review of "9 to 5--the Musical"

Take a memo—9 to 5, the last musical of the current New York season, is a big, splashy, feel-good production that Broadway has almost forgot how to produce. It is the perfect tonic to brighten up these difficult economic times. Based on the hit 1980 movie of the same name, the story focuses on three office secretaries who finally tire of their sexist, egotistical and all-together slimy boss. Through inadvertent happenstances they end up kidnapping the scoundrel, holding him hostage at his home, while at the same time covertly taking over office operations which drives productivity and morale through the roof.

There are a number of reasons that make 9 to 5 work. First, and foremost, are the three lead actresses—Allison Janney, as take charge office manager Violet Newstead; Stephanie Block, as the frazzled, new-to-the-work-world, Judy Bernly; and Megan Hilty as the Dolly Partonesque executive secretary, Doralee Rhodes. We like them, care about them and, most importantly, their chemistry and interplay together is unforced and genuine. All three actresses receive ample stage time and a song or two they can call their own, delivering each time they are called upon to take center stage. While both Stephanie Block and Megan Hilty have the more powerful voices, Allison Janney more than holds her own during her musical numbers. Marc Kudisch is downright despicable as boss Franklin Hart and the longtime Broadway veteran never lets up on the sleaziness factor.

The score by country legend Dolly Parton combines country with Broadway razz-ma-tazz and is wholly satisfying. The title song is reworked into an invigorating opening number that combines the kinetic choreography of Andy Blankenbuehler with the tuneful former chart topping song. Blankenbuehler’s style, exuberant and athletic, which so energized last year’s Tony winning In the Heights, is all about movement. Characters don’t just walk, but almost seem possessed by a rhythmic force as they traverse the stage.

Patricia Resnick’s book, based on her screenplay for the movie, encompasses all the highlights of the film while at the same time creatively re-engineering scenes for the stage. The extended dream sequence is a wonderful example. Director Joe Mantello, no stranger to large casts headed by strong, empowering women—think Wicked—superbly blends all the musical’s separate components into a breezy, fast-paced production. The second act does lag a trifle, but nowhere to the detriment of the show.

Scenic designer Scott Pask, as well as the rest of the creative team, have conjured up a realistic corporate office bullpen of secretaries and worker bees. Their use of rear screen projections adds some panache without being overbearing, something other Broadway shows should take heed of.

So, order more carbon paper, restock the white out, and sharpen those number two pencils, 9 to 5—the Musical should be taking out a long lease at the Marriott Marquis Theatre.

Review of "God of Carnage"

“Let the battle begin” could be the thematic war cry for the new comedy, God of Carnage, by playwright Yasmina Reza. What starts off as a convivial meeting between two couples to discuss the thwacking one son gave the other with a stick on the playground, breaking a couple of teeth, very quickly degenerates into a verbal and physical joust among the four protagonists.

The quartet of actors are marvelous, even though James Gandolfini, portraying a dealer in wholesale plumbing fixtures, is not in the same acting league as the other three—Hope Davis, a ‘wealth manager;’ Jeff Daniels, her obnoxious, mannerless, overbearing corporate lawyer husband; and Marcia Gay Harden, a writer. The latter three put on an acting clinic as the onstage tensions slowly mount and the civility fault lines begin to crack. The fun of God of Carnage is watching, sometimes in mock horror, the utter breakdown of courteousness and gentility of the characters. Yasmina Reza’s purpose is not simply to entertain, but to also poke holes into the pretentious lives of the upper middle class. As she demonstrated with her Tony Award winning show, Art, Reza’s meditations provide an opportunity for reflection as well as a rollicking good time.

Actors Daniels, Davis and Harden are all so good it would almost be unfair to single out any one performance. However, Marcia Gay Harden is the catalyst for setting the other players in motion. Her unconditional surrender to the role of Veronica allows her to bring forth a roller coaster ride of emotions and acting pyrotechnics. I was drained after watching her through the 90 minute, intermissionless production. I don’t know how she can muster the energy, twice a week, for a matinee and evening performance.

Director Matthew Warchus also deserves kudos for nurturing the action on stage, from a simmering boil to a pressure cooker explosion. He artfully choreographs the little skirmishes and all-out warfare, allowing the actors, from time to time, to rest like caged animals, licking their wounds, panting, and pondering their next plan of attack.

My only quibble with the show was its conclusion which, after a high octane joy ride, ends too abruptly, like coming down from a fabulous sugar high. Then, again, what is the best way to scale back from open warfare? God of Carnage, on Broadway at the Bernard B. Jacobs theatre on West 45th Street.

Review of "Jersey Boys" - National Tour

I will admit right up front that I was not blown away by Jersey Boys, playing now at the Bushnell Center for the Performing Arts in Hartford, CT through February 22nd. Maybe my problem was with the musical itself or it could have been the pre-show hype I had been hearing for the past few years. I never got around to seeing the Broadway production, but everyone who ventured into New York City to see the show came away in ecstasy. I will also confess that most people in the audience—especially the ladies—were having a grand time.

Jersey Boys tells the story of the formation and rise to fame of The Four Seasons (the group only became Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons once most of the original members had left). The show gets underway at a deliberate pace as we are introduced to the band members, their quirks, and foibles, as they begin their slow ascension to pop superstars. The music is one of the main strengths of the show, but doesn’t really begin to scintillate until just before the end of Act I when The Four Seasons run through three of their biggest hits and most recognizable songs—“Sherry,” “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” and “Walk Like a Man.” It was just before this success that group member Bob Gaudio, played by Josh Franklin, joined the band. His songwriting talents, along with producer Bob Crewe, portrayed by Jonathan Hadley, are what finally catapulted The Four Seasons to fame. The remainder of Act I, and most of Act II, bestow upon the audience a huge dollop of hits from Frankie Vallie, with and without, The Four Seasons.

Franklin, as Gaudio, is the glue that holds the show together. He exudes confidence, charisma, and a naïve charm that adds depth to his depiction of the singer/songwriter. Unfortunately, we have to wait through a good portion of the opening act before he makes his entrance. The other cast members were more two-dimensional in their characterizations, starting off with Matt Bailey as lead guitarist, Tommy DeVito. Bailey reminds me of a young Sheldon Leonard portraying some two-bit thug in a 1960’s sitcom. Steve Gouveia, who has been with the production since its pre-Broadway tryout, seems to be sleepwalking through his role as bassist, Nick Massi. Joseph Leo Bwarie makes a compelling Frankie Valli, with a great voice and soaring falsetto, but a matinee idol he is not.

The book by Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice does its best in highlighting the ups and downs of the pop quartet during its heyday throughout the 1960’s. I would have liked dates occasionally flashed on the multi-media screens hung above the stage to help anchor the story. Director Des McAnuff and choreographer Sergio Trujillo keep the pacing swift, never slowing the tempo too long during the sensitive moments on stage. McAnuff, though, could have done a better job helping the actors flesh out their roles to present a more vivid dynamic on stage.

Jersey Boys, even with all my prattling, is still an enjoyable musical that will have you tapping your feet throughout the show. At the Bushnell Center for the Performing Arts in Hartford through February 22nd.

Review of "Enter Laughing"

Enter Laughing, the musical revival receiving a sparkling production at the York Theatre Company, has had a storied history. Its genesis began with a 1958 autobiographical novel by the mult-talented Carl Reiner. That begat a successful 1963 stage adaptation by Joseph Stein which, in turn, became a 1967 film version. In 1976, Stein and Stan Daniels reworked the story into a Broadway musical, entitled So Long 174th Street, that bombed after 16 performances. Fast forward over 30 years to the Fall of 2008 where a revised edition of the musical opens to stellar reviews and, then finally, is brought back by the York Theatre Company for an encore engagement through March 8th.

Enter Laughing revolves around young David Kolowitz, a stage-struck and would-be Casanova who finally realizes his ambition of becoming an actor. In order to consummate his dream, Kolowitz must deftly handle his jealous girlfriend, an unsympathetic boss, and his overbearing mother. The show is very funny and, at times, laugh outloud hilarious, especially the scenes of David attempting to rehearse his big, break-through role. The musical boasts an exceptionally talented cast, the most notable being Josh Grisetti, as the determined David Kolowitz. Grisetti, gangly, charming and self-confident, succeeds in his quest, in spite of himself. His struggles to rehearse a simple laugh are uproarious. Veteran Bob Dishy, as the boozing, pompous, second-rate theater actor, Harrison Marlowe, is a pure joy to behold. Dishy’s comic timing and mannerisms could be a master class for would-be thespians. Marla Schaffel, playing Dishy’s onstage daughter, Angela, demonstrates real musical comedy prowess, especially during the show within a show finale. Lastly, Jill Eikenberry, most well-known for her role on television’s L.A. Law, in just a nod or shrug pours on the Jewish guilt better than my grandmother. Eikenberry’s real life husband, Michael Tucker, who plays her fictional spouse, David’s father, has a rather lackluster role, but his Act Two dance routine, "Hot Cha Cha," with Ray DeMattis is an absolute gem.

The score by Stan Daniels, performed by a three piece pit band, while not containing any memorable songs, is fun, sometimes bawdy, always entertaining within the context of the show. The sets and costumes are minimal but, here, less is better. The direction and musical staging by Stuart Ross is crisp, energetic and allows the actors the freedom and flexibility to make Enter Laughing such an enjoyable evening of theater.

In a theater season being known more for what has closed than what has opened, Enter Laughing provides the New York stage with a much needed shot in the arm.