MUSICAL MAYHEM: MY TOP TWENTY-FIVE MUSICALS – Part 14A
THE TOP TEN – #5
NOTE: Due to the
length of this entry, I'm dividing it into two parts. This is part one of two.
# 5: CHICAGO – Book by Fred Ebb and Bob Fosse, Music by
John Kander, Lyrics by Fred Ebb
"Welcome. Ladies and gentlemen, you are
about to see a story of murder, greed, corruption, violence, exploitation,
adultery, and treachery ─ all those things we all hold near and dear to our
hearts. Thank you." Truer words were never spoken and on that note, a solo
trumpet played, the conductor counted off the Overture, the scrim rose and one
of the cleverest shows ever written began. Chicago has been in my top
ten musicals since I first saw it in 1975 just two weeks after it had opened.
It's almost an overabundance of riches. There's that incredible Kander and Ebb
score that starts off with a bang and ends with that glorious "Keep It
Hot." The book by Bob Fosse and Fred Ebb is trenchantly satirical, darkly
funny, and thoroughly original. Subtitled "a musical vaudeville," Chicago is a classic vaudeville for
modern times, a potpourri of styles and mood from burlesque to song-and-dance
to an homage to iconic performer of the vaudevillian age (Bert
Williams…"Mr. Cellophane") to a cross-dressing "sob
sister," a journalistic regular of the 20s. It's smart; it's stylish. And
in its original production, it, surprisingly, received a decidedly mixed
critical response. No out-and-out raves, no out-and-out pans, everything just
sort of in the middle. The critical consensus at the time seemed to be that
while Chicago was ambitious and
admirable, it was cold, unlikeable, and more than a bit reminiscent of Kander and
Ebb's earlier Cabaret, a comparison I
just don't see. But, sadly for Chicago,
a new musical about dancers opened at the Public a few weeks earlier, transferred to Broadway's Shubert Theatre six weeks after Chicago's opening, and became the critics' darling, bar none, of
the 1975-1976 season. Even though Chicago
would be nominated for eleven 1976 Tony Awards, there would be no Tony love for Roxie Hart and pals, overshadowed by the critical and public smash, A Chorus Line.– 46th Street Theatre, New York
The original set.
June, 1975; October, 1975. Scrim up, the band, too jazzy to call it an
orchestra, ended the overture and began the by now iconic vamp intro to
"All That Jazz." And then Chita Rivera, all pose and attitude and
star power, rose from beneath the stage, slunk down to the front of the stage
and began to sing "C'mon babe/Why don't we paint the town?/And all that
jazz." I was a goner. Totally. Hook, line, and sinker. The show could have been crap from that point on and I wouldn't have cared. But it wasn't. It was Chita
opening the show. It was Gwen Verdon perched on top of a piano singing about
her "Funny Honey." It was Mary McCarty coming on in her mink and
telling us all the great things that happen "When You're Good to
Mama." It was the jaw-dropping "Cell Block Tango." It was Jerry
Orbach's entrance with the Ziegfeld Follies-like "All I Care About."
It was "Roxie," and "My Own Best Friend," and "Mister
Cellophane," and "Razzle Dazzle," and "Nowadays," and
that precision, letter-perfect dance trio of "Nowadays,"
"R.S.V.P.," and "Keep It Hot," and all the other numbers,
not a bad one in the lot. It was a sextet of actors at their absolute peak:
Gwen Verdon (Roxie), Chita Rivera (Velma), and Jerry Orbach (Billy), Barney
Martin (Amos), Mary McCarty (Mama Morton), and M. O'Haughey (Mary Sunshine). It
was an ensemble of some of the finest dancers in the theatre, including future
choreographers Christopher Chadman and Graciela Daniele. It was exciting,
vibrant, and just plain remarkable. A second viewing a few months later just
confirmed my initial opinion. People can, and will, debate the merits of the
original cast versus the original revival cast, and I will rarely say anyone is
the definitive <fill in your favorite role> or any cast is the definitive
cast, but, in my humble opinion, this is one of those rare times, for this cast
will never be eclipsed. Brilliant. Just brilliant. – at the 46th Street
Theatre, New York
The "replacement" marquee when the original leading ladies left the show.
May, 1977. My third visit to the wonderfully criminal folks over at Chicago, just a few months before its
close, still starred the wonderful Jerry Orbach, the only above-title actor, as
Billy Flynn with "Chicago's own killer dillers, those two scintillating
sinners, Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly" now played by Ann Reinking (Roxie)
and Lenora Nemetz (Velma). M. O'Haughey was still on hand as Mary Sunshine, Rex
Everhart, Chicago's Benjamin Franklin in 1776,
was now Amos, and Alaina Reed was Mama Morton. Let me say something about Jerry
Orbach. By this time, he'd been doing Billy Flynn for over two years, counting Chicago's out-of-town tryout and
previews before opening, but you'd never know it. His performance was as fresh
as it was when I first saw him nearly two years earlier. That's a pro. Reinking, of course, would choreograph and star in
the revival, sounding in 1996 like a Gwen Verdon clone. In 1977, the voice
didn't have quite the tremble, she danced up a storm, and was overall
delightful. Nemetz, Verdon's standby when the show opened and a later standby
for Velma, brought her experience to the role and delivered the goods. However,
and perhaps this is being petty, though everyone was spot-on, I missed the
star-wattage that the original cast brought to the show. Chicago was still a razzle-dazzle, though perhaps not quite as
bright a one as it was back in 1975. – at the 46th Street Theatre, New York
– Blackstone Theatre, Chicago
March, 1978. Chicago's
national tour arrived in February in its namesake city for a three month stay
at the Blackstone Theatre. With Jerry Orbach leading the company, I was looking
forward to a return visit to an old friend. All of the Fosse style remained
intact, but there was an ennui to the performance. No one really seemed to be
having much fun. Even the redoubtable Jerry Orbach seemed tired. In the roles
of Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly were two talented young(ish) Broadway vets. Penny
Worth (Roxie) left the red-hot smash Annie,
where she was Dorothy Loudon's understudy, to join the tour, while her co-star
Carolyn Kirsch (Velma) was a veteran of many Broadway shows, including the
original cast of A Chorus Line. Both
ladies did all the right moves, but there wasn't a lot of chemistry between
them or between them and Orbach. They were professional and competent, just not
terribly exciting. M. O'Haughey continued as Mary Sunshine, his only role on
Broadway according to IBDB.com, Gordon Haskell made a fine Amos, and Edye Byrde
brought some serious pipes to Mama Morton. It was a perfectly acceptable performance.
I was just underwhelmed, and, honestly, a bit disappointed. – at the Blackstone
Theatre, Chicago
Sidebar: The Blackstone, now the non-commercial Merle Reskin
Theatre of DePaul University, is a lovely, Broadway-sized house with about 1450
seats over three levels. In 1978, the Shubert on Monroe was the primary musical house,
and one noted for long sit-down engagements. The Studebaker on Michigan Avenue
(around 1200 seats) was home to shorter runs of plays and smaller musicals. The
Blackstone was the preferred house for plays, hosting the occasional musical,
and had its share of long sit-downs. Today, the Shubert, now the CIBC Theatre,
is the smallest of the primary road houses in town and the most performance
friendly. Both the other major houses, the Oriental and the Cadillac Palace,
are stunning venues, but too wide, resulting in most shows being portaled in,
and a bit too big to establish any real intimacy.
Fun Fact: Steve and I saw a DePaul University production of Chicago at the Blackstone/Merle Reskin
from the first balcony in the early 90s. If dim memory serves, it was a really
decent production.
Casting Fun Fact: Future Tony-winning
director and choreographer Susan Stroman was Hunyak in this production.
April, 1978. Hail, hail, the gang's all here! Well, almost.*
In a "Hail Mary" move to boost
surprisingly weak box office, the Chicago
producers decided to turn up the heat and "Keep It Hot" by calling in
the "A" team, Chita Rivera, Gwen Verdon, and Mary McCarty. And what a
difference that made! The ennui I felt during the performance I saw a month
earlier had vanished, replaced by a new energy, a vibrant sassiness, a
newly-rediscovered sense of fun. This
was the Chicago I remembered and fell
in love with. Like slipping into some comfy old slippers, Verdon, Rivera, and
McCarty played their roles with that ease of old pros doing a job they love.
The chemistry between the leads was back. The audience roared its approval, and
the box office got the boost it needed. – at the Blackstone Theatre, Chicago
* Of the six featured players in
the original Broadway cast, only Barney Martin (Amos) was missing from the new
cast.
Sidebar: Lead producers Robert Fryer and James Cresson possibly
were smart from a financial standpoint to not launch the national tour of Chicago until after the Broadway
production had closed, but from a box office standpoint, perhaps not. In New
York, Chicago was, as the song goes,
always the bridesmaid, never the bride to the behemoth called A Chorus Line. Launching a tour over two
years after its New York premiere may have diminished the status of the show.
To my knowledge, this was the only national tour of the original production,
playing only a year, as opposed to, well, that other show, which had at least
two road companies crisscrossing the country at the time. (Contrast this to the
six national tours that the revival of Chicago
has spawned to date. (source:
IBDB.com)) And wouldn't you know it? When Chicago
finally played its namesake city, several months into the tour, it was, once again,
the bridesmaid to A Chorus Line,
which had just started its ecstatically-received eleven-month run at the
Shubert over on Monroe. Sadly, the
critics didn't give a lot of love to Chicago.
An article I recently read placed the lackluster initial reaction to Chicago on several factors: 1) the fact
that Chicago arrived in
Chicago months after the tour started, when it should have been the first stop.
Producers cited the unavailability of a suitable theatre as the reason for that.,
2) the cool critical reception, much of which focused on the competent, but not
very dynamic, leading ladies, 3) the lack of recognizable, box office names for
the two leading ladies, and 4) yes, you guessed it, the presence of A Chorus Line a few blocks away, which
made every other show in Chicago a second choice. Even in its hometown, Chicago just couldn't catch a break!
Let's Talk Billing: When Chicago
opened in 1975 the billing was as follows: Gwen Verdon and Chita Rivera were on
the top line, Jerry Orbach immediately below, all billed above the title. Below
the creatives, under a "with" designation were Barney Martin, Mary
McCarty, and M. Haughey. When the tour opened in Chicago, Jerry Orbach was the
only actor billed above the title. When the "new" cast arrived, the billing was
now as follows: Gwen Verdon and Jerry Orbach on the top line, followed by
<next line> "and" <next line> Chita Rivera. All three
above the title. Following the title was a new billing "Also Starring Mary
McCarty." Below the creatives was "with" Haskell Gordon and M.
O'Haughey. As every actor knows, billing is everything, almost more important than
salary, and is a fiercely fought contractual point and to lure three of the
original stars to the tour, I'm sure the producers needed to add some
value-adds to the pot. Top left position (in this case, Gwen Verdon) is always
the "star" spot, but the "and" preceding Chita Rivera gives
Rivera extra-prominent billing. And Mary McCarty scored a sweet deal when she
was promoted from a "with" billing to an "also starring"
billing just below the title. I should have been an entertainment lawyer!
Before we end today, let's take a brief side trip across the Pond to
London's West End, where I saw a very different Chicago in its 1979 UK/European premiere production.
– Cambridge
Theatre, London
May,1980. Typically, most Broadway and West End shows
cross the Pond as replicas of their original productions, featuring the same
design elements, the same directors and choreographers, often some of the key
actors to recreate their roles. Chicago,
however, made its way to the West End via a transfer from the well-regarded
Crucible Theatre in Sheffield, England. Not a duplicate of the Broadway
original, it would be accurate to say that this Chicago was based on or suggested by the original. Designed,
directed, and choreographed by Crucible's in-house personnel, Chicago was familiar enough, but
different in several ways. The choreography, for example, didn't seem as slick,
as precise, even with Fosse assistant choreographer, Tony Stevens, as
Production Consutant. The costumes
weren't quite as sleazy. The performance overall seemed just a bit too genteel,
as though terrified of offending 1980 British sensibilities. Rather than having
scintillating sinners, this Chicago had
naughty-but-nice folks populating the show. Was it still entertaining?
Absolutely. The cast, a replacement cast from the one which opened the show a
year earlier, was excellent, with UK favorites, including Jacquie Toye, Hope
Jackman, Colin Bennett, and Tony-winner Elizabeth Seal (Irma la Douce) as a terrific Roxie. The London critics liked it
well enough to nominate the show for several Olivier awards, and it ran about
600 performances, but I sorely missed the Fosse touches. When Chicago returned to the West End in 1997
to start a run of nearly fifteen years, it was a duplicate of the revival then currently
selling out on Broadway. – at the Cambridge Theatre, London
Sidebar: Chicago's show
curtain at the Cambridge was a collage of street signs naming many Chicago
streets. One of those was "Halstead." Drove me nuts during the entire
overture. So, at the interval, I found the house manager and said, "Did
you know that one of your street names on the show curtain is misspelled?"
House Manager (HseM): "Oh?" Me: "Yes. Halsted is spelled 'H A L
S T E D' and not 'H A L S T E A D.'" HseM (ever-so-polite, but said in
that supercilious manner that Brits sometimes have): "That's not possible. Our
research was very thorough. You must be mistaken." Me (still managing to
keep my good Midwestern manners when what I really wanted to do was smack that
sucker down): "Well, I live in Chicago. So, I'm pretty sure I know how
Halsted should be spelled." HseM (a bit subdued): "Oh. I see. I'll
bring this to management's attention." Now, he very well may have, but I'm
sure that "Halstead" remained there for the remainder of the run!
And so concludes Part One. There's no doubt that Chicago was overshadowed both at the box office and on
the critical front by A Chorus Line.
Folks often forget, however, that it was a financial success with a
more-than-respectable 936 performances under its belt. When it closed in
August, 1977, most folks thought that was that. They were so wrong. (To be
continued!)
©
2018 Jeffrey Geddes
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