OFF THE RAILS OR THEATRICAL TRAIN WRECKS - Part Three

OFF THE RAILS OR THEATRICAL TRAIN WRECKS

Part Three

The penultimate installment of my top ten theatrical train wrecks. I decided to devote a separate blog to the new Gold Standard of Theatrical Train Wrecks. The two discussed here both jumped the tracks in New York City. One was a London import. One was a short-lived sequel to a popular 60s smash hit. A duo of theatrical WTFs.

Go grab some coffee and let's get started.

FESTEN – Music Box Theatre, New York

The London marquee. "A work of genius"? Uh....don't think so. At least not in New York.

April, 2006. Opening night! "Do you want to know a secret?" the marquee at the Music Box Theatre tantalizingly asked, hinting that all sorts of naughty and perverse things awaited the theatregoer attending a performance of Festen. Unfortunately, by the time the curtain fell, the question I was asking was, "What was that?" In New York on a layover, I had read the reviews of the London production and was mighty intrigued. Based on a celebrated Danish film, Festen sounded all macabre and dark and Scandinavian, in the best tradition of those famous Scandinavian gloom masters, August Strindberg and Henrik Ibsen, but with a modern, pervy twist. Plus it was opening night. How cool is that? The warning bells should have started ringing when I was able to snag a really good main floor seat at the TKTS booth. For an opening night of a much-anticipated play? Really? But, with visions of seeing celebs in opening night finery, I walked into the Music Box and promptly wish I hadn't. Physically stunning, Festen tells the story, at times incoherently, of a family reunion centered around the family patriarch's 60th birthday celebration. During the course of the interminable evening, we discover all sorts of dark, gloomy and perverse things about this family, who could pass as the poster child for dysfunctional families everywhere, including parental sexual abuse. And amongst all the dark, gloomy and perverse revelations were a master of ceremonies, birthday toasts, silly songs and games and a great big dining room table where the beautiful and staggeringly miscast Ali MacGraw, in her Broadway debut, treated the audience to a lengthy and, well, painful speech. (Love means never having to watch Ali MacGraw on stage.) Misdirected and without focus, the cast included performers from theatre (Larry Bryggman as the sexually abusive daddy and Michael Hayden, in the evening's best performance, as the anguished son), television (Julianna Margulies, in the evening's most interesting performance, as the anguished son's sister and Jeremy Sisto, in the evening's most bizarre performance, as the anguished son's brother) and film (the previously-mentioned Ms. MacGraw as the family matriarch). Curiously, some in the audience were applauding like crazy at the bows; I just wanted the curtain to come down. Awful. Full stop. – at the Music Box Theatre, New York

Sidebar: Festen, as previously mentioned, received ecstatic, you-must-see-this-if-you-care-at-all-about-the-theatre reviews when it opened in London. New York critics were far less kind and the show closed after a brief run. In 2011, however, a production opened at Chicago's Steep Theatre to rave reviews. I just couldn't put myself through it again, reviews be damned. (To be completely honest, the video promo for this production did nothing to make me want to change my mind.)

BRING BACK BIRDIE – Martin Beck Theatre, New York

From an old slide. This is the best I could get the picture.

Hmmm. Friday, the 13th. Possibly an omen?

Back in the day of "real" paper tickets, this was how the producers and treasurers knew a ticket was sold at the TKTS booth.

Rehearsal shots.

How many orchestrators does a show need? I count nine. A bit of over-kill, don't you think?

February, 1981. I have never been a fan of Bye Bye Birdie. I don't think I've ever seen a production of it, but the original cast album never ranked among my favorites and watching the film is like fingernails against a blackboard. (And what is with Ann-Margret singing "Bye, bye, Birhee"? There's a "D" in there, cupcake!) So if I'm not a fan of the original, why would I go see its sequel? Simple. I may not be a fan of Bye Bye Birdie, but I'm most definitely a fan of Chita Rivera and I firmly believe that whenever Ms. Rivera graces a stage, one really should try to see whatever it is she's in. And, truthfully, Ms. Rivera was hands down the best thing about this show. Anticipation and lots of Bye Bye Birdie goodwill were present at the top of the show; both were gone by the interval, replaced by a knowledge that things were not going to get better and, I felt, anger from the audience that the creators would so desecrate the beloved original with this disaster of a sequel. Telling sign: at the start of the performance, the Mezzanine of the Martin Beck was nearly full; at the start of Act Two there were noticeably more empty seats. The messy and often incomprehensible plot had something to do with bringing the aging Conrad Birdie out of retirement to appear on an Emmy broadcast. In an attempt to make the proceedings more current, the kids are "hipper," there's a subplot involving a punk-rock band called "Filth" and yet another subplot involving a Moonie-type group, here called "Sunnies." STOP! I remember a scenic design that included a wall of television monitors (a scenic device much better used decades later in American Idiot), a handful of decent  tunes, well, decent compared to the rest of the score, and Ms. Rivera, revisiting her original star turn as Rose, doing everything but serving us breakfast to make the show work. Sharing top billing was Donald O'Connor as Albert, but, frankly, he didn't add much to the proceedings. Totally forgettable. Veteran Maria Karnilova as Mae Peterson got her laughs, but I thought she was unbearably cute. And looking at the program, I noticed that Maurice Hines was featured as a character named "Mtobe." Haven't a clue. Yes, this was truly as bad as it sounds. Even the curtain call rendition of Birdie's "Rosie," while charming, had an air of desperation about it. Bring Back Birdie made this list because there was absolutely no reason, none, to create this show, and even less of a reason to produce it. It was simply bad. Shockingly, you can license the show from Tams-Witmark. Bring Back Birdie deservedly was slammed by the critics and closed after four performances.  – at the Martin Beck Theatre, New York

Sidebar: As a rule of thumb, sequels usually have a rough go of it in the theatre. Even with the same creative team and sometimes even the same stars, it's difficult to recreate the magic that propelled the original to hit status. To support this theory, I offer as examples: Annie 2: Miss Hannigan's Revenge, sequel to Annie (2377 performances)…closed out of town; The Best Little Whorehouse Goes Public, sequel to The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1584 performances)…16 performances; Love Never Dies, sequel to The Phantom of the Opera (11,500 + performances and still going strong)…hasn't made it across the Pond due to lack of interest and negative reviews; Mortgage, sequel to Rent (5123 performances)… Okay, I made that last one up, but you get the general drift. Actually, come to think of it, wouldn't that make a great sequel? Set it twenty years after Rent takes place and have all those whiny brats have to deal with…gasp…a job and…gasp again…responsibilities. Here are some other shows that I think could have terrific sequels: Applause (Set a decade or so later. Eve's a big star, but Margo finally gets her revenge.); A Chorus Line (Sheila now a major television star; Cassie now teaching dance and bitter about her failed career. Things explode at Zach's funeral.); Cabaret (Sally, et al, after WWII); Gypsy (Louise's star fades a bit, June's rises, and Rose is still stage mother from hell); 42nd Street (Peggy Sawyer becomes Julian Marsh's mistress and begins drinking before noon. She escapes back to Allentown to regain her life.); Company (Bobby marries, divorces, has an affair with Peter and becomes addicted to internet dating sites.) Let the sequeling begin!

That's it for now. The very last installment of this series coming very soon!! Cheers!

©2015 Jeffrey Geddes

OFF THE RAILS OR THEATRICAL TRAIN WRECKS Part Two

OFF THE RAILS OR THEATRICAL TRAIN WRECKS

Part Two

These next three shows all went off the rails in Chicago. I suspect a lot of folks won't agree with the second one featured today, but…

Go grab some coffee and let's get started.

THE KID FROM BROOKLYN – Mercury Theater, Chicago

June, 2008. This terrible, terrible waste of time purported to tell the story of Danny Kaye…womanizer, alleged homophobic closeted homosexual and abrasive performer. Instead of actually giving us a portrait of Danny Kaye, warts and all, since someone's "faults" often make that person more interesting, this endeavor played like a rabid fanboy's homage to his idol. To his credit, Kaye was very active in charitable organizations, but watching this, I got the impression that Kaye did nothing without first determining whether or not it would be good for his career. As portrayed here, Kaye's wife, Sylvia Fine, didn't appear to be much better. In Karin Leone's performance, she came off as a coldly shrewd and calculating woman, an impression not dissipated by Fine's hosting gigs for television specials in the 80s celebrating Broadway musicals, where she appeared distant, aloof, even a bit superior. Full disclosure, I know my opinion of this production is largely tempered by the fact that Danny Kaye gave the single most unprofessional and disrespectful performance I have seen to date when I had the great misfortune of seeing him in Two By Two after his accident, when all pretenses of character and honoring the material had been jettisoned. Credit where credit is due, the cast of four worked hard, especially Brian Childers as Kaye. But all that hard work was for naught. Judging by audience reaction at the performance I attended, the crowd either loved the show or hated it. Interval chatter was evenly split. The Chicago reviews were decidedly on the negative side. Of the ten shows that make up my list of theatrical train wrecks, this is the only one that was chosen solely on a visceral, emotional response. God, did I hate this show! – at the Mercury Theater, Chicago

Sidebar: Although inconceivable to me, a similarly-themed musical called Danny and Sylvia: The Danny Kaye Musical (in an earlier workshop incarnation it was called Danny and Sylvia: A Musical Love Story) opened off-Broadway about a year after the run of The Kid from Brooklyn. Although the producers of D and S were quick to tell prospective audiences not to be confused with TKFB, both shows starred Brian Childers, which leaves one to wonder if Danny Kaye is all that Mr. Childers has in his theatrical bag of tricks. On a reduced four-performance-per-week schedule and heavy on matinees, D and S ran for nearly three years. Really?

JEKYLL & HYDE – Shubert Theatre, Chicago

 

 Brad Oscar was in the cast. He'd go on to do far better things.

 This was the line-up in Chicago. It would be different by the time the show reached NYC.

"Eder is the Streisand of the 90's." Uh...well....

The New York marquee was striking.

January, 1996. Two sell-out engagements at Houston's Alley Theatre and a wildly popular concept album made up the hype that preceded this hugely-anticipated musical's arrival at the Shubert, midway through an unofficial, yet nobody was denying it, pre-Broadway tour. It opened. It received poor reviews. It played to adoring audiences. It was a mess. Starring Robert Cuccioli as Jekyll/Hyde and Linda Eder as prostitute-with-a-heart-of-gold Lucy Harris (paging Shirley MacLaine), then composer Frank Wildhorn's paramour, then wife, then ex-wife, the show musicalized Robert Lewis Stevenson's classic novella about split personalities and the good and evil that coexist in people, a theme that, on the surface seems, a natural for a Gothic, Victorian confection of a musical. Instead, however, creators Frank Wildhorn and Leslie Bricusse created a show that was a great, big, gooey, cheesy, pseudo-Gothic hot mess of a show with all the subtlety of a baseball bat to the head, enough power ballads to make Les Misérables blush, a plethora of swinging heads and bouncing hair (the means by which Mr. Cuccioli changed from the saintly Dr. Jekyll into the demonic Mr. Hyde, who was, frankly, by far the more interesting of the dual personalities), a sound system that was set on very LOUD, and a stultifyingly wooden performance by Linda Eder. Now let me state flat out that Mr. Cuccioli did his best, delivering a solid performance backed up by a good voice, and I suppose all that hair tossing was the only workable way to do the multiple personality switches called for in the script, but he was saddled with a dreary, pedestrian script and wasn't helped by a production that lacked inspiration from both director and choreographer.. As good girl Lisa Carew, soprano Christiane Noll, making her Broadway debut in this show and who would create, a decade later, a powerful Mother in the revival of Ragtime, was the only principal who created a character of nuance. Her Act Two duet with Ms. Eder, "In His Eyes," was the highlight of the evening and she easily stole the song and the stage from Linda Eder. So what specifically made this show a top-ten theatrical train wreck? Well, several things actually, but first let me state that I was sincerely looking forward to this show and was, up to then, somewhat of a fan of the concept album. Yes, the same overwrought power ballads, but one can adjust the volume in one's living room. And while all that overwrought-ness can work in a recording, on stage it all becomes too much. So that was working against the show. And then there was the matter of Ms. Eder's performance. Ms. Eder is a singer with a fiercely loyal and devoted fan base and a powerful set of pipes (I find her one-note...loud…, but I'm probably in the minority on that one.), but is woefully lacking in the acting department. Watching her dialogue scenes bordered on painful. I didn't care that she sang/bellowed/beat-to-a-bloody-pulp her songs and made them all sound alike. Blame Mr. Wildhorn for composing songs that all blend together. What I still can't overlook is that she was the lead in a Broadway-bound musical and simply didn't have the chops for it. I'm sure her relationship with Wildhorn played a part in the casting, but it didn't work with Andrew Lloyd Webber's then-wife Sarah Brightman in The Phantom of the Opera, and it didn't work here. A pretty and powerful voice alone is not a sound reason to cast someone, nor will it hide acting deficiencies. Why didn't the producers seek out an actress who can sing with the best of them? Karen Ziemba immediately comes to mind, and, even now, just thinking what she could have brought to that role, well, it makes me want to weep at the missed opportunity. The combination of cheesy production values, sound-alike music, hair-tossing, and terrible acting all came to a head in the penultimate scene. The action takes place in Lucy's digs, a bright, virginal white room and our Lucy is dressed in a bright, virginal white dress. Are we getting the symbolism here? The room is spotless. SPOTLESS. Eder brays out a power ballad where she longs for "A New Life." Pretty, and loud, but nothing we haven't heard throughout the evening. Cuccioli, in his flowing locks as Hyde, enters. Insipid dialogue ensues, then, cradling Lucy, he stabs her as the stage blood flows a deep red in this bright, virginal white environment. Stop it! Now! But the worst offense and the moment when the show entered the hallowed ranks of theatrical train wrecks, was the Act Two opener, "Murder, Murder," an ensemble number so terrible in execution that it actually elicited laughs. I came back from intermission for this? It ranks right up there with "Louis Says" from Victor/Victoria as one of the worst musical numbers ever. Lots of missed opportunities. I would love to see Sondheim or Jason Robert Brown tackle this story. – at the Shubert Theatre, Chicago

Sidebar: A year after the unofficial, yet nobody was denying it, pre-Broadway tour, Jekyll & Hyde, opened in New York at the Plymouth Theatre and ran for nearly four years. In the intervening time between Chicago and New York, the entire production and design staff had been replaced, songs dropped, shifted around and added, but the show still, as then, didn't meet with critical favor. That, however, didn't faze the audiences who flocked to the Plymouth, especially the "Jekkies," superfans of the show, the Jekyll & Hyde version of Deadheads, who were a fixture at the Plymouth. The show was filmed featuring the final cast starring, wait for it, David Hasselhof, out of his swim trunks and onto the stage, as Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde. Despite the long run and over 1500 performances, the original run closed at a substantial loss (roughly 25% according to Playbill.com). Linda Eder continues to this day to have a successful career as a singer, but, except for concert engagements, has not since acted on Broadway. Frank Wildhorn, after seven attempts, if one counts the 2013 revival of J&H, has yet to have a financial, or critical, success on the Great White Way, but he still slogs away at it. Having said all this, however, there's no need to cry for Mr. Wildhorn or Mr. Bricusse. The show has had numerous productions in the States and abroad and is popular with amateur and regional theatres. I'm sure by now the original run has more than paid back its investment.

********************

INTERVAL --- What was going on in Chicago Theatre in 1996.

The guy's hot enough to make me wish I'd seen it. Puck and Bottom, indeed!

Don't know how I missed this. The play is a great old chestnut and the cast certainly was starry enough.

How to Succeed was delightful. I would rather eat ground glass than see Jerry Lewis in anything.

********************

ODYSSEY – Arie Crown Theatre, Chicago

Oh, Joan! The eye makeup! Noooo! And, maybe it's just me, but Yul has this gay-boy-just-leaving-the-gym look. I should have known what was coming.

Any of these would have been better than Odyssey. Quite a variety of venues and plays/musicals going on. And, yes, starring in The Magic Man was that David Copperfield. Only 21 and smoking hot. Sadly, however, we must return to Odyssey.

May, 1975. Even the biggest stars and creative talents in the business can have their bad days. In the case of Odyssey, some of the business' biggest stars and creative talents had some really, really bad days. This horror of a show had music by Man of La Mancha's Mitch Leigh and book and lyrics by Erich ”Love Story" Segal. It was directed by La Mancha's director, Albert Marre and starred Marre's wife and La Mancha's original Aldonza, Joan Diener and, oh-my-GOD!!, the King himself, Yul Brynner. Well, suffice it to say that there was no "Impossible Dream" this time around and this intermissionless and interminable two-hour fright of a musical was as perfect an example of "what were they thinking?" that you could find. I think the idea was to convert Homer's epic poem "The Odyssey" into, and I quote the program here, "a new musical comedy." I'm sorry. I just don't think of Homer and immediately go, "Break out the tap shoes, Mickey and Judy! It's show time!!" The score, such as it was, was derivative, in the worst sense of the word; Erich Segal proved that not only could he not write fiction, he couldn't write lyrics or a musical libretto either (I so wanted to do a riff on "Love means never having to say you're sorry" here, but my mind did a complete blank.); Albert Marre's direction was pretty much non-existent; Joan Diener's deportment was that of a queen dispensing largesse to the peasants, though one couldn't deny the power of her famed voice; Yul Brynner acted as though he desperately wanted to break into a quick rendition of "A Puzzlement," etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. (see The King and I). Even talented Russ Thacker, there primarily, I think, for the sole purpose of providing eye candy, seemed lost at sea here, no pun intended. Playing at the gigantic Arie Crown Theatre, it played to huge crowds, thanks to Brynner, received negative reviews, thanks to a crappy show, and left me scratching my head in bewilderment. Truly an awful, awful show. Not bad enough to be one of the great legendary flops; just bad. Full stop.– at the Arie Crown Theatre, Chicago

Sidebar: At the end of Odyssey's year-long tour, it limped into the Palace Theatre in New York under its new name of Home Sweet Homer, where it opened on a Sunday matinee and promptly closed that same afternoon. By that time, Erich Segal was no longer associated with the show. Lucky him. The tour was full of strife, terrible reviews, missed performances by the leads and a general sense that somebody needed to say "Enough!" But nobody did. Man of La Mancha would prove to be Mitch Leigh's only success as a Broadway composer. (Not that he needed to ever again write another note, but still.) For the husband-and-wife team of Albert Marre and Joan Diener, La Mancha would be their final success, both individually and together. Both would revisit La Mancha in various productions and revivals. Yul Brynner would scamper happily back to playing the King in cross-country tours and in two hugely successful Broadway revivals of The King and I. Russ Thacker had a modestly successful career, but the Broadway portion of it was littered with quick-closing flops. Odyssey/Home Sweet Homer … lots of wasted time, talent and money.

Tune in next time for the last three shows of my top-ten theatrical train wrecks.

© 2015 Jeffrey Geddes