ALPHABET SOUP (8) - FEATURING A RANDOM LETTER OF THE ALPHABET AND SOME SHOWS THAT BEGIN WITH THAT LETTER

ALPHABET SOUP (8)

FEATURING A RANDOM LETTER OF THE ALPHABET AND SOME SHOWS THAT BEGIN WITH THAT LETTER

M

Misfiles happen. And in the box that contains programs with titles beginning with the first half of the alphabet, I found a small stack of programs that belonged in the box containing programs with titles beginning with the last half of alphabet. Happily, they all start with the same letter, so we'll give our blue London mug a rest, and feature these varied shows that all start with the letter "M."

MOON OVER BUFFALO – Martin Beck Theatre, New York

October, 1995. Heralding Carol Burnett's return to Broadway after an absence of thirty years, Moon Over Buffalo was one of the 1995-1996 season's most eagerly anticipated plays. To say the reviewers were greatly disappointed at what they saw at the Martin Beck is somewhat of an understatement. Reviews notwithstanding, I, along with the audience that pretty much packed the Martin Beck on a Wednesday night, were there to see Carol Burnett. Full stop. Period. And, she didn't disappoint. The vehicle she was trapped in, however, did. It just wasn't very funny, unless you find inane jokes and juvenile, stupid stage business funny. But, lordy lord, did Burnett try. She used every trick and every weapon in her arsenal to make this slight, confusing, wannabe farce work, even at times, and successfully, I might add, reverting back to some The Carol Burnett Show shtick. I'm surprised she didn't turn up the lights and take questions from the audience. Now don't get me wrong. I didn't hate the evening. I laughed often and smiled frequently, but it was definitely sub-grade comedy. Ms. Burnett's costar, the remarkable Philip Bosco was also very good and did his best and then some to inject some life into the proceedings. The supporting cast, including Tony-winner Randy Graff, all did yeoman's work, but when either Burnett or Bosco were offstage, you didn't really care what anyone else did. Most disappointing was Jane Connell, the original Gooch in Mame, whose portrayal as Burnett's nearly-deaf mother Ethel, started with a bang, but as the evening progressed,  grew tiresome and annoying. The show was lovely to look at, had two glorious underused and misused stars, and provided a pleasant, if ultimately disappointing evening. – at the Martin Beck Theatre, New York

Sidebar: Author Ken Ludwig's greatest successes were the hilarious Lend Me a Tenor and the book for the Gershwin-scored Crazy For You. His plays are performed everywhere and I'm sure he's amassed quite a fortune. Now I'm a huge fan of Tenor. It's funny to read, even funnier in performance, but I find his other plays just another version of Tenor: different characters, different locales, but the same basic plot structure. Moon Over Buffalo was compared unfavorably to Ludwig's own Lend Me a Tenor and especially to what is possibly the greatest backstage farce of all time, Noises Off. But that didn't stop audiences from flocking to the Martin Beck during Carol Burnett and Philip Bosco's tenure. Box office plunged, however, when Robert Goulet and Lynn Redgrave took over the leading roles. Never a sell-out (I snagged a ticket at the TKTS booth), it did well enough to not be an embarrassment, but didn't recoup. It's a huge, huge favorite among amateur theatre groups. I haven't a clue why. There's an excellent documentary about the Broadway production called Moon Over Broadway. Watch what happens during a technical hold during, I believe, previews. Apparently, this was not an especially happy experience for those involved.

MISS ABIGAIL'S GUIDE TO DATING, MATING, & MARRIAGE – Sofia's Downstairs Cabaret Theatre, New York

Spring, 2011. As theatre literature, Miss Abigail's Guide to Dating, Mating & Marriage, well, isn't. As stimulating theatre, Miss Abigail's Guide… isn't either. What Miss Abigail's Guide… is, however, is a bit of sassy fun served up with a cheerful, cheesy professionalism, all perfect for a Sunday evening in New York. Eve Plumb, aka Jan from the annoying The Brady Bunch, played Miss Abigail with a breezy disregard towards anything resembling acting, which made her performance oddly rather endearing. A rather hot Mauricio Perez played the loyal Man Friday, Paco. He worked tirelessly and often hysterically and, frankly, rather stole the show from Ms. Plumb. Lots of audience participation, some of it worked, some of it didn't. It was enjoyable; it was silly. The somewhat sparse audience seemed to have a good time. But, I think we should have gone to The Fantasticks instead. – at Sofia's Downstairs Cabaret Theatre, New York

THE MATCHMAKER – Ford's Theatre, Washington, D.C.

September, 2004. Midway through the seemingly interminable fourth (!!) act of the otherwise fine and beautifully designed production of The Matchmaker at the historic Ford's Theatre, you could sense the audience mentally leaving the theatre. This problematic fourth act seemed under-rehearsed. Perhaps it was. It seemed underwritten. Perhaps it was. It seemed unfocused. Perhaps it was. It seemed totally unconnected from anything that had occurred previously. Who is this Miss Flora Van Huysen? What does she have to do with anything? I'm not saying that Lola Pashalinski gave a bad performance in the role, but nothing she did landed with anything other than a thud. I blame Thornton Wilder's writing here more than the actor. By this time in the evening Dolly Levi and her compatriots had overstayed their welcome. This odd fourth act that I don't remember at all from reading the play decades earlier brought the evening to a unsatisfying close. A shame, too, because for most of the evening The Matchmaker sparkled with a leisurely, nostalgic throwback when comedies took their time and allowed their characters to develop. And further a shame because Andrea Martin, not surprisingly, was a vibrant Dolly Levi, wise and funny, and Jonathan Hadary made a nicely gruff Vandergelder, and a young Christopher J. Hanke was an adorable Barnaby. Full disclosure, at times I longed for the play to morph into the musical, and I kept inserting the musical numbers into the appropriate spots in the action. I'm sure I wasn't the only one. And who wouldn't want to see Andrea Martin as a musical Dolly? – at the Ford's Theatre, Washington, D.C.

Sidebar: A layover in Washington gave me the opportunity to see this American classic at this most historic of American theatres. Far from being a relic, the interior of the auditorium is a modern, well-equipped auditorium seating close to 700 people. The stage left box is draped with an American flag to honor and commemorate the place where President Abraham Lincoln was shot. Downstairs is the Ford's Theatre Museum, a tidy and somber exhibition of artifacts and interactive displays that tell the story and legacy of the 16th President. It alone is well worth a visit. What's most remarkable to me, however, is that, despite the tragic occurrence of April 14, 1865, the theatre continues to function as an active, flourishing theatre, always remembering and honoring the past, but also always moving forward.

MY ONE AND ONLY

– St. James Theatre, New York

December, 1983. As bubbly and effervescent as a glass of fine champagne, My One and Only burst onto the St. James stage awash in glorious dancing, extravagant production values, and those unforgettable Gershwin songs. The frankly ridiculous plot had something to do with an aviator (the very tall Tommy Tune) and an English Channel swimmer (the iconic Twiggy in her Broadway debut and, unfortunately, only Broadway appearance to date), but if you were trying to make sense of the plot, you were missing out on the fun. The legendary Charles "Honi" Coles, the distinguished Roscoe Lee Browne (who knew he was a song-and-dance man at heart?), scenery-chewing comic relief by Bruce McGill and Denny Dillon, and a formidable, talented ensemble all ably supported the above-the-title stars, but when all was said and done, Tommy Tune and Twiggy were the ones who made the show the lighter-than-air confection it was. Tommy Tune was personality personified, all legs and so eager to please; Twiggy, who, arguably, was the best thing about the film The Boy Friend, was a discovery, an embodiment of the 20s flapper who brought true warmth to her part. I was crazy about her. Leaving the St. James on a cold December night, I just felt happy. It was that kind of show. – at the St. James Theatre, New York

– Civic Opera House, Chicago

February, 1986. Breezing into the Civic Opera House to bring some warmth to a wintery February evening in Chicago, the First National Company of My One and Only enjoyed a high-grossing three weeks in the Windy City. Once again starring Tommy Tune as the world's tallest aviator, his English Channel-swimming co-star for the tour was Lucie Arnaz, all smiles and talent, and hitting all the spots, but I rather missed Twiggy's singularity and deceptive tentativeness. Arnaz was pure show biz pizzazz, polished and confident. "Honi" Coles continued to amaze and Tiger Haynes, the original Tinman in The Wiz, was now playing with great success the Roscoe Lee Browne role. In the beautiful Civic Opera House, this elegant Art Deco-inspired show looked absolutely stunning. The audience ate it up. This was a terrific production, but the 20s-era verisimilitude that Twiggy somehow brought to the original production was missing here. – at the Civic Opera House, Chicago

A MATTER OF GRAVITY – Blackstone Theatre, Chicago

March, 1977. According to Samuel French, the licensor of A Matter of Gravity, the play involves an eccentric and feisty old lady, a lesbian servant who levitates, the old lady's grandson and his companions, including another lesbian and her bi-racial girlfriend, and a climax that somehow has the eccentric and feisty old lady and her lesbian, levitating servant checking themselves into the nearby asylum. If that's what Sam French says, then that must have been what I witnessed. I honestly don’t recall the evening at all, except for the leading lady, Katharine Hepburn, swanning about the stage in a wheelchair, courtesy of a fractured ankle obtained during an earlier stop in Los Angeles, with great star authority and garnering laughs and heavy applause along the way. Even with Kate the Great, however, it was a thoroughly unmemorable evening. – at the Blackstone Theatre, Chicago

Sidebar: Playwright Enid Bagnold, not exactly a familiar name, actually was a fairly prolific writer, whose most well-known title is the play The Chalk Garden. In its professional debut, A Matter of Gravity met with critical indifference, if not downright dislike, for the play, but high praise for its star, Katharine Hepburn. It would make back its original investment after only a twelve-week out-of-town tryout and a 79-performance Broadway run, a solid indication of Hepburn's box-office draw. Yet even a star of Hepburn's magnitude can't keep a bad play from being a bad play, and this was the case with Gravity. Hepburn would play another eccentric, feisty old lady in the better-written, more involving West Side Waltz, her final stage endeavor.

THE MUSIC MAN

 – Neil Simon Theatre, New York

June, 2001. TV's very own Will from Will & Grace, Eric McCormack, in his Broadway debut, brought a sheen, stage presence, and a surprisingly fine voice to the role forever and always associated with late, great Robert Preston. He smiled, he danced, he ingratiated himself with the audience and the sizable cast onstage at the Neil Simon. He was really very, very good. Rebecca Luker, as River City's favorite could-become-a-spinster librarian, was more than very, very good. She was…sublime. Tender, feisty, resplendent in William Ivey Long's stunning costumes, she gave a very human performance as Marian, and when she did us the honor of singing "My White Knight," generally believed to have been ghost-written by Frank Loesser, you could have heard a pin drop in the theatre's reverential silence as she caressed every note with love and care. It was truly the high point in the evening. Joel Blum, Kenneth Kimmins, Ruth Gottschall, and Katherine McGrath all provided able support, with Gottschall mining every laugh as the pretentious Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn. Pretty to look at and directed and choreographed with flair by Susan Stroman, this was a solid, thoroughly entertaining production of an American classic. Here's the deal, however. I don't much like The Music Man. I like bits and pieces of it, but overall the show just rubs me the wrong way. I don't like the character of Harold Hill. No matter how well the character is played, he still comes off as a first-rate creep. I want to drop-kick the annoying Winthrop to the other side of Gary, Indiana. What saves the show for me is the score, loaded with songs that range from lovely ballads to toe-tapping showstoppers. In this revival, it all hummed along like a well-oiled machine. – at the Neil Simon Theatre, New York

Sidebar: What do you mean Frank Loesser ghost-wrote "My While Knight"? According to researchers,  there are musical themes common to "Knight" and songs in Loesser's The Most Happy Fella. Also, the song is totally unlike anything else in the Willson catalog. In the end it doesn't matter who wrote it; it's still an incredible song. And speaking of Meredith Willson… The Music Man was Willson's one enduring success. His The Unsinkable Molly Brown was a moderate success fueled by lead Tammy Grimes' performance, and later turned into a tiresome film featuring an over-the-top performance by Debbie Reynolds. Here's Love didn't receive much love when it opened in 1963 and remains pretty much unloved today, though it's now re-titled Miracle on 34th Street to reflect the show's iconic origins. His final show, 1491, closed during its pre-Broadway tryout. Having said all this, however, his estate is laughing all the way to the bank with The Music Man royalties.

– Fichandler Theatre (Arena Stage), Washington, D.C.

June, 2012. As I said earlier, I'm not a huge fan of The Music Man. So why would I schlep out to Washinton, D.C. to see a production of it? Two words. Kate Baldwin. This divine red-headed wonder can do little wrong in my book. But, sadly, it was not smooth sailing for this talented lass. (Sorry…thinking back to her wonderful performance in Finian's Rainbow.) Arena Stage's Artistic Director and the show's director, Molly Smith, decided it was time to re-imagine this 1957 warhorse. In and of itself, that's not a bad idea. The male lead is a con man. The female lead has a murky past involving possible intimate relations with a her benefactor. With care, a few shades of dark could be added to this show to give it a welcome jolt of depth. However, this didn't happen. For time and place, the program states "River City, Iowa. Set in a vision of America's past, with echoes of today." (italics mine) Uh-oh! I should have sensed danger right there. What Smith did was move the show to the 1930s. Bad move. It didn't work for Carousel in Chicago (see a previous post) and it didn't work here. This particular decade, gripped with the Depression and the threat of war, doesn't really lend itself to The Music Man's breezy innocence. It made the sweetness of the story cloying and, most offensively, was really hard on the eyes. The costumes? Oy! Tony Lawson, as Harold Hill, had the requisite charm and stage presence, but, no surprise here, Kate Baldwin's luminous Marian took home the evening's honors, with a slightly edgy performance and a lush singing voice. I loved Baldwin, admired Lawson, and pretty much didn't like the rest. It was all very professional, but cold and uninvolving. And I still wanted to drop-kick Winthrop to the other side of Gary, Indiana. – at the Fichandler Theatre, Arena Stage, Washington, D.C.

Sidebar: I just read a broadwayworld.com thread from a while back that suggested that Winthrop is really the love child of Marian and her benefactor, the miser Madison. Now that would be a reimagining worth looking into!

That's all for now. Until next time…

© 2016 Jeffrey Geddes