ALPHABET SOUP (16):
FEATURING A RANDOM LETTER OF THE ALPHABET AND
SOME SHOWS THAT BEGIN WITH THAT LETTER
L
A.R. Guerney's uber-popular play that has been done by, I
suspect, practically every theatre company in the world; Eugene O'Neill's epic masterpiece
performed by a cast the likes of which dreams are made of; a blissfully
mindless, thoroughly entertaining musical that probably should have stayed
off-Broadway where it started; an acclaimed musical that I couldn't warm up no
matter how hard I tried; and finally one of the funniest musicals in existence,
full stop. Let the "Ls" begin!
LOVE LETTERS – Chicago
Theatre, Chicago
February, 1992. Not that it matters, but neither of the two
Broadway productions of A.R. Gurney's Love
Letters were smoking box office smashes. What it lacked in Broadway
durability, however, it more than made up for in popularity and has resulted in
the gift that keeps on giving…and giving…and giving to Mr. Gurney's estate. It
literally is a money machine. And with good reason. There are only two actors.
The set can be whatever you want. Limited rehearsal is required since the
actors use scripts. The play itself is gentle and eager to please. No
heavy-heavy-hangs-over-thy-head themes. World peace will not come out of a
performance. And depending on your socioeconomic status, you may or may not
relate to the antics of the two characters. In its favor, it's often funny,
sometimes moving, and solidly authored, but there's just not much meat on Love Letters' bones. For this tour,
which stopped off in Chicago for a brief seven-performance run, the producers
hired everyone's favorite TV couple, Jennifer and Jonathan Hart. Oops. I meant
Stefanie Powers and Robert Wagner. It didn't matter that the play seemed lost
in the huge Chicago Theatre (3600 seats). The packed house came to see Jennifer and
Jonathan in person, and that's exactly what they got. Sitting on two tall
stools with backs and with music stands in front of them, Wagner and Powers,
with the help of some great lighting, managed to make the theatre seem almost
intimate. Surprisingly at ease on the stage, they delivered genuine star
charisma. Powers was the better actor, able to handle both the comedy and drama
with ease. Wagner was competent, handled the lighter stuff better than the
heavier sections, and looked damn fine even from the reaches of the middle balcony, a million miles away from the stage. It was professional and polished,
and we all had a great time. – at the Chicago Theatre, Chicago
Jon and Jen: Hart to Hart
ran for five seasons, from 1979 to 1984. It was a favorite of Steve's and
myself, and we would religiously tape and save the episodes. (Remember, these
were the days before DVRs and streaming video.) Curiously, considering how much
we loved the show, we never rewatched any of the episodes and the many VCR
tapes languished on the shelves until I finally got rid of them prior to a move
after Steve died. Jump ahead ten years or so. I'm a cabin hag for Comair. Hart to Hart had been released on DVD,
available on Netflix. While on a layover, I eagerly popped in the Season 1, Disc 1
DVD and began the episode. Not even halfway through the episode, I stopped
watching. What I thought was so clever, stylish, and glamorous in the early
80s, now seemed, well, none of the above. I guess I'd moved on from Jon and
Jen. Ah, well.
LONG DAY'S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT – Plymouth Theatre, New York
August, 2003. On a layover in New York on a steamy Sunday in
July, I stood in the cancellations line at the Plymouth Theatre in my synthetics-are-us-so-we-don't-breathe
flight attendant uniform, and was the very last person called to purchase a
ticket to the multi-Tony winning revival of Eugene O'Neill's masterpiece. To
say I was in theatrical bliss for four hours would be a gross understatement.
To say the cast of Vanessa Redgrave, Brian Dennehy, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and
Robert Sean Leonard was perfection would be grossly inaccurate. They were so
much more than that. It wasn't what they did that was so impressive; it was
what they didn't do that was
extraordinary. And what they didn't do was act. Oh, trust me, they were all
acting up a storm, but damned if I could spot a single false move, a single
dishonest emotion, a single dip into tricks, artifice, and "acting."
They were the Tyrone family and we, the audience, were the proverbial flies on
the wall witnessing as they railed at each other only to beseech forgiveness in
the next moment, as they shrieked in anger, fueled by alcohol and drugs, to be
followed soon after by a scene of unexpected warmth. In a cast of such
accomplished actors, Vanessa Redgrave's Mary Tyrone was a revelation. The
subtleties she brought to her role; the frailty, the strength, the despair, the
dignity she gave that troubled, tragic character. Brilliant doesn't do her
justice. She truly is in a class by herself. Robert Falls directed this with
sensitivity and grace. I am still in awe of this production. – at the Plymouth
Theatre, New York
FUN FACTS: Tonys were won by the production itself for Best
Revival, Vanessa Redgrave for Leading Actress in a Play, and Brian Dennehy for Leading
Actor in a Play. Robert Sean Leonard won a Featured Actor in a Play Tony in
2001 for his role in Tom Stoppard's The
Invention of Love, which I found to be a fascinating, if extraordinarily dense
afternoon of theatre. The late Philip Seymour Hoffman would win a 2005 Oscar
for his portrayal of Truman Capote in Capote.
Like I said…a class act.
LYSISTRATA JONES – Walter
Kerr Theatre, New York
December, 2011. Preview. First off, let me say no one will ever
confuse Lysistrata Jones with Follies. Not a bit of angst in sight in
this light, breezy frolic of a show. A musical that uses as its basis Aristophanes' anti-war
comedy in which the ladies of ancient Greece, in an attempt to end the
Peloponnesian War, decide to withhold all sex from the menfolk until peace is
declared? Indeed, only this time the locale is a D-List college
where the cheerleaders decide to withhold sex from their basketball-playing
boyfriends until the BFs lose their ennui and contentment at having never won a
game in decades and start upping their game. Not quite as lofty a goal perhaps,
but it somehow all worked. A pleasant, energetic score by Lewis Flinn with a
sensational ballad to close Act One, sold-to-the-rafters by leading lady Patti
Murin, kept everything enjoyably tuneful. Nifty choreography and direction
courtesy of Dan Knechtges kept the show moving. Lots of boy eye candy in
various states of dress and undress was an unexpected bonus, and the fine performances
by the talented cast, led by Patti Murin, Josh Segarra, Jason Tam, Lindsay
Nicole Chambers, and Liz Mikel, gave the musical a satisfying professional
sheen. Douglas Carter Beane's book got the job done with heart, warmth, humor,
and the occasional political jab. Plus he provided me with my 2nd most favorite
line: "I'm moist like a snack cake!" A perhaps ill-advised transfer
from a successful summer booking off-Broadway, Lysistrata Jones, though entertaining as all get-out, didn't seem
comfortably at home in the modestly-sized Walter Kerr. It was, at heart, a little
musical trying to make it in the big leagues, and, despite decent-enough
reviews, including pretty much a rave from the all-important New York Times, it just couldn't draw an
audience willing to pay Broadway prices for this unassuming delight. Perhaps it
would have played better at the smaller Helen Hayes, former home of Xanadu; perhaps it should have just
transferred to an open-ended engagement off-Broadway. Whatever the case, it
didn't make it and closed after 34 previews and only 30 performances. Sad. – at
the Walter Kerr Theatre, New York
Cast Tidbits: Liz Mikel's only Broadway appearance to date was in Lysistrata Jones. Jason Tam will be
appearing in this season's (2018-2019) Be
More Chill and was a recorded voice in Dear
Evan Hansen. Lindsay Nicole Chambers won my heart as Gail in the fabulous
web series Submissions Only. Josh
Segarra, a cool drink of water if ever there was one, played a dumb-as-rocks
cop in the sadly short-lived TV series Sirens,
and won praise for his long stint as Emilio Estefan in Broadway's On Your Feet! Patti Murin, so, so good
in Lysistrata Jones, would
effortlessly steal the show as Anna from the showier, but less substantial,
part of Elsa when we saw the musical Frozen
during its Denver shakedown.
June, 2005. About ten days before we saw The Light in the Piazza, the musical had racked up six Tony Awards at the 2005 ceremonies, including Best Actress for
Victoria Clark, Best Score for Adam Guettel, Richard Rodgers' grandson, Best
Orchestrations, and swept the musical design categories. And indeed Piazza was lovely to look at. And
Victoria Clark was, in a word, magnificent, and she had a slew of fine actors
with her in the cast, including Kelli O'Hara and pre-Glee Matthew Morrison, but,
frankly, her performance was just about the only thing that kept the show from
becoming a ponderous slog that moved at a snail's pace. I found little joy in the
show, and just could not get into Guettel's score. Was that a melody trying to
get through? Wait. Nope. To my ears, it was unmelodic noise masquerading as an
"important score." And since I couldn't get involved with the music,
and since Piazza is, after all, a musical, I just couldn't
become invested in the characters. It didn't help that our seats were on the
far side of the Beaumont's wide thrust stage, making everything seem somewhat
removed. I wasn't bored, and I didn't hate it, but I was disappointed. What
didn't disappoint was the radiant Clark. She made the evening worthwhile. – at
the Vivian Beaumont Theater, New York
LITTLE ME – Criterion
Center Stage Right (Roundabout Theatre Company), New York
December, 1998. One of the funniest musicals ever written, Little Me is blessed with a hysterical,
joke-laden book by Neil Simon, a sensational, tune-filled score by Cy Coleman
and Carolyn Leigh, and based on the ridiculously funny book of the same title
by Auntie Mame's Patrick Dennis.
Ostensibly about the life and trials of poor-trailer-trash-turned-rich-celebrity
Belle Poitrine, it's really about the opportunity to get a cast of inspired
comic actors together and collectively make their audiences weak with laughter.
Heading Roundabout's cast of zanies were Martin Short and Faith Prince, two
actors whose comic skills are honed to a laser-like precision. Playing the men
in Belle's life, Short spun the lightweight material to comic gold at every
turn, almost turning the invaluable Prince into an afterthought. The
operative word there was "almost." If the material didn't allow
Prince the number of opportunities to shine, she made sure she made the most
out of every appearance and was Short's equal in the scenery-chewing
department. And look at this supporting cast: Brooks Ashmanskas, Peter Benson,
Michael McGrath, Michael Park, Christine Pedi, and an especially droll and
divine Ruth Williamson. The score, one snappy song after another, has one major
pop hit, "I've Got Your Number," and a secondary one in "Real
Live Girl." But there's also the poignant "Poor Hollywood Star,"
the effervescent title tune that gets things off to a grand start, the
celebratory "Here's To Us," and, well, there's not a bad song in the lot.
The show, newly revised, featured satiric nods to the film Titanic and the musical Chicago,
and had a crisp, delightful staging by Rob Marshall. We enjoyed ourselves
immensely. It's a shame Little Me
isn't more well-known. – at the Criterion Center Stage Right, New York
Background Stuff: Little Me
made its Broadway debut during the 1962-63 season and starred Sid Caesar (roles
later played by Martin Short), Virginia Martin and Nancy Anderson (roles
combined in 1998 and played by Faith Prince), and Sven Swenson, who made
"I've Got Your Number" the show's true showstopper. It received
mostly favorable reviews, with only one unfavorable review among four raves and
two favorable ones according to Steven Suskin's Opening Night on Broadway. Yet despite the star power and the good
notices, Little Me never caught on
and closed after a mere 275 performances. A major revival twenty years later
starring James Coco and Victor Garber, splitting the seven roles originally
played by Caesar, was a critical miss and closed a few weeks after it opened.
The Roundabout revival didn't exactly win over the critics, but it's reviews
were good enough to ensure a healthy limited run at the 499-seat Criterion. Little Me would be the Criterion's
penultimate show. It would close in 1999 to make room for the gigantic Times
Square Toy R Us.
And on that note… Until later….
© 2019 Jeffrey Geddes
