IF THE SHOE FITS… (The Shoebox Files) - Part 2

IF THE SHOE FITS…

(The Shoebox Files)

Part 2

More programs snugly stored away in shoeboxes. Let's see…what's on for today?

CLOUD 9 – Theatre de Lys (officially Lucille Lortel's Theatre de Lys)

Above and below, off-Broadway's famed Lucille Lortel Theatre, aka Theatre de Lys. 

July, 1981. Caryl Churchill's landmark comedy of sexual and societal mores in British colonial Africa in 1880 (Act One) and 1980 London (Act Two), though only twenty-five years had passed for the characters, was described by director Tommy Tune, in his straight play directorial debut, as a "simple family play" or "a frank exploration of the human sexual psyche." Call it what you will, Tommy, but your Cloud 9 was never dull, often very funny, sometimes confusing, and ultimately absolutely fascinating, warts and all. There's sex galore in this play from good, old-fashioned heterosexual adultery to gleeful homosexual outings to a suggestion of incest. A marketing campaign ad might have read "something for everyone!" Definitely not a Neil Simon romp, Cloud 9 was sophisticated, maddening, stylish, and unlike anything I'd seen. Directed with a sure and steady hand by Tommy Tune (is there anything this man can't do?) and played with skill by an ensemble cast of supremely talented actors (Don Amendolia, Veronica Casting, Željko Ivanek, Jeffrey Jones, E. Katherine Kerr, Nicolas Surovy, and Concetta Tomei), Cloud 9 was, and remains, a fascinating combination of parody, spoof, and farce that will have you talking about it long after the curtain comes down. – at the Theatre de Lys, New York

Sidebar: A few years ago, my nephew, Greg, was one of the lighting folks in a production of Cloud 9 during his senior year at Illinois State, so Bob and I went down to see it. Decades after it debuted, the play holds up remarkably well and the cast of university actors did a fine job navigating the sometimes murky Churchill waters.

Casting Tidbits: Post-Cloud 9, Jeffrey Jones went on to cinematic fame in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off  and Beetlejuice, among others, before being convicted in the early 2000s of possession of child pornography and soliciting a 14-year-old boy to pose for nude photographs. A registered sex offender, he continues to work, though infrequently. Željko Ivanek won a Drama Desk Award for Cloud 9 and has had a successful career in theatre, television, and films. Nicolas Surovy, who in 1981 was swooningly handsome, had a famous mom, opera star Risë Stevens. And at 78, Tommy Tune still works and has earned a crapload of Tony Awards, Drama Desk Awards, and Outer Critics Circle Awards.

THE SISTERS ROSENSWEIG – Ethel Barrymore Theatre, New York

October, 1993. Wendy Wasserstein's The Sisters Rosensweig holds the questionable distinction of being the only play or musical on Broadway that I have walked out on at the interval. Ms. Wasserstein has legions of fans. I'm not among them. I found Rosensweig to be whiny, obnoxious, and, inexcusable for a so-called comedy, just not terribly funny. And this in spite of some appealing work by Linda Lavin (in the part originally played by Madeline Kahn in a Tony-winning performance) and Michael Learned (in the part originally played by Jane Alexander). For me it just sat there and I kept waiting for things to happen. The deciding factor in the decision to leave at the earliest possible unobtrusive moment, however, was Hal Linden's odd, very odd, performance. I couldn't tell if he was ill or drunk or what the case was, but his performance was unfocused and just plain sloppy. Obvious dropped lines, huge pauses in the pacing, the performance was a mess. I couldn't wait for that first act curtain to drop. This was a last-minute choice, picked in favor of the first Roundabout revival of She Loves Me across the street at the Atkinson. That was my choice, but Steve had no opinion one way or the other and the people we were with hated the score to She Loves Me. (How was I ever friends with such unenlightened people? It'd be like counting Trump supporters among my closest, or even most distant, pals today.) Even today, I'm regretting I didn't drag Steve to the Atkinson and leave the other couple to fend for themselves at the Wasserstein thing. Sadly, the evening went downhill from there at an angst-packed dinner. (Details escape me, but the other couple were having relationship issues. They were always having relationship issues. Steve and I simply had more wine.) Not the most enjoyable trip to New York, but we did see Kiss of the Spider Woman that same trip, so there is that! – at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre, New York

RIDE THE CYCLONE – Chicago Shakespeare Theatre (Upstairs)

October, 2015. Who would have imagined that a musical which takes place in Uranium City, Saskatchewan (yes, there really is a place) could be so entertaining? Structurally, it reminded me a bit of Putnam County Spelling Bee, but with better music and more involving characters. I had wanted to see this since I first read about it and I wasn't disappointed. I thought it would be rather dark and depressing, but was delighted and hugely surprised to discover that it was often very funny, with some really lovely, touching moments interspersed among the fine musical numbers. The gifted cast of seven developed seven distinct characters and each stood out when it was their turn to shine, but then stepped back and became a seamless ensemble. Great production values, some bucks were spent here, and overall cohesive direction and choreography by Rachel Rockwell. Thanks to the Shakes for bringing this Canadian original to Chicago in its American premiere. It recently had a well-received limited engagement at New York's MCC. Absolutely terrific musical. Well done, all. - at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater (Upstairs), Chicago

SEASCAPE – Booth Theatre, New York

January, 2006. It's perhaps somewhat easy to dismiss Edward Albee's 1975 fantasy/comedy/allegory Seascape as a minor work. After all, it's starry Broadway premiere production had a unprofitable and short run and it took twenty years for the play to have its first major revival. And even though it may not have the raw, emotional power of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, A Delicate Balance, or The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?, Seascape did win the 1975 Pulitzer for Drama, so its creds as a major Albee work are solid. Albee's story of two couples, one long-married and elderly and the other young, very evolved English-speaking lizards, had the requisite Albee explorations of marriage, love, death, and life, but also had an unexpected liberal sprinkling of tenderness and out-and-out comedy, and was infused throughout with warmth and elegance, and all of it supplied by the outstanding cast: George Grizzard, in his last stage appearance, and the simply divine Frances Sternhagen as the elderly couple, and Frederick Weller and Elizabeth Marvel as the lizards. There are no words to truly describe the magic Mr. Grizzard and Ms. Sternhagen brought to their roles. It was truly an honor to watch those two exemplary actors ply their trade. I'm a huge fan of both Mr. Weller and Ms. Marvel. They consistently deliver thoughtful, fully-realized performances and Seascape was no exception. This revival was courtesy of Lincoln Center Theater, so thanks LCT! Seascape had a short run the second time around as well. Perhaps it's simply just too delicate and gentle an Albee work to ever be fully appreciated. I was enchanted. – at the Booth Theatre, New York

RECKLESS – Biltmore Theatre (Manhattan Theatre Club), New York

September, 2004. I found Craig Lucas' parable about life as a series of soul-sucking disappointments and betrayals better in individual moments and performances than as a whole. Now we saw one of the first previews and the New York Times review when it opened a few weeks later was pretty laudatory, so perhaps pacing and characterizations solidified during previews. Now, don't get me wrong. Any play that stars Mary-Louise Parker and has Olga Merediz, Debra Monk, Michael O'Keefe, Rosie Perez, Thomas Sadoski, and Jeremy Shamos as a supporting cast is worth seeing, just for the sheer acting talent involved. And, yes, Reckless was often deliciously funny and sardonically wicked in its best moments. And I will go great distances to see anything Debra Monk is in. But, having said all that, and despite Ms. Parker's hard-working and finely-acted central character that anchored everything, I remember being ever so slightly bored throughout the entire evening. Reckless was first performed in 1983 and twenty years later, it seemed a bit, oh, 1980s, which was, face it, not the happiest of decades. Professional in every aspect, but it didn't send me. For the record, Bob has absolutely no recollection of seeing this. – at the Biltmore Theatre, New York

BARRICADES!

LES MISÉRABLES

I have a love/hate relationship with Les Misérables. On the one hand, at least in its original production, it can soar with an operatic grandeur, minus the need for supertitles, and at times its score has a breathtaking beauty (see "I Dreamed a Dream," "Stars," "Bring Him Home," "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables," and that killer first act close, "One Day More"). On the other hand, the parts that irritated me the first time around still irritate me and the years following its debut in 1985 have only coarsened some of the material. I know it's a Tony-winning part, but, frankly, Eponine has always annoyed the crap out of me and when she starts bleating "On My Own," I want to leap up onto the stage and slap her silly. Girl, get a freaking grip! And the Thénardiers have lost all their darkness and have become full-blown vaudevillian characters that now seem virtually extraneous to the show. Other than establishing the Eponine/Cosette links, they really serve no purpose and could be dealt with with a few lines here and there. "Master of the House" now just seems completely extraneous. And why, why, WHY did the powers-that-be reduce Gavroche's marvelous "Little People" to just a few lines? Totally gutted that part. When all is said and done, however, the creators obviously did something very right. It has run continuously in London's West End since 1985. That's a staggering thirty-two years! The original New York production ran nearly 6700 performances and Broadway has seen two full-blown revivals, one a "reimagined" production with new direction and design, and the show launched at least five national touring companies, including one currently (Fall, 2017) traipsing across the country. That's a lot of barricades!

 – Auditorium Theatre, Chicago

March, 1989. The First National Tour stopped off for six months at Chicago's stunning Auditorium Theatre and Steve and I were at one of the first Chicago performances.  An architectural gem, National Historic Landmark, and acoustically perfect, the Auditorium was a popular touring stop for shows for many years. With nearly 3900 seats and an upper balcony (rarely sold) that is steep and so high up one feels oxygen should be offered, it's, frankly, far too large for most shows. For big epic numbers like Les Misérables, however, it adds a grandeur to the event that adds to the show's enjoyment. (For the record, smaller shows, i.e. the average musical, tend to get lost at the Auditorium.) Craig Schulman and Charles Pistone played the adversarial pair of Jean Valjean and Javert, respectively. Hollis Resnick was a sensational Fantine. And, look! Victoria Clark as Madame Thénardier, before the part became obnoxiously overplayed. A first rate production all around. The audience loved it. – at the Auditorium Theatre, Chicago

– Auditorium Theatre, Chicago

July, 1991. Cosette liked her first Chicago visit so much, she decided to come back to the Auditorium for another six-month stay. This time around Mark McKerracher and Richard Kinsey were playing Valjean and Javert, Anne Runolfsson was Fantine (good, but not Hollis!), and Chicago veteran Ray Frewen was part of the ensemble. The major difference on this return visit was the sound. The 1989 engagement had sound by the Broadway designer, Andrew Bruce. This engagement's sound was courtesy of the Broadway production's associate designer, Tony Meola, and Mr. Meola, apparently, was a big fan of echo effects and big booming sound, because both were overused throughout the evening. I called this production the "rock concert Les Mis." I don't think the audience noticed or, for that matter, cared, but it really, really bugged me. – at the Auditorium Theatre, Chicago

– Cadillac Palace Theatre, Chicago

February, 2011. Here's how this was billed: "Cameron Mackintosh's New 25th Anniversary Production of Boubil & Schönberg's Les Misérables." How new? Same costumes, but new lighting, new directors, and, and this is the biggie, a new scenic design, which…GASP AND HORROR…did away with the iconic barricades. O.M.G.! What the hell? Les Mis lite? Answer: No. It's still Les Misérables, just a cleaner, more streamlined one. Much was made of the fact that an African-American actor was playing Valjean. Not sure what all the fuss was about. Lawrence Clayton was okay in the role, if not terribly vocally impressive. (Note: Clayton was out of the tour after only four months. Message boards state that either a) health issues were involved or b) attendance was not his friend.) Andrew Varela played Javert and really nailed the part. In a totally odd bit of casting, young Eponine was played by a white child actress while the adult Act Two Eponine was played by an African-American actress. Well, okay, then! By this time any attempt to make "On My Own" a character song had been discarded in favor of doing a belty, loud pop version. Chasten Harmon sang it in true pop diva form, loud and with little interpretation. To make matters worse, she was directed to be especially whiny and needy. In this new production, the Thénardiers seemed totally out of place and their scenes were borderline painful to watch. Top honors for this version go to Betsy Morgan, Bob's former student, who made Fantine's fifteen minutes memorable and gave the show one of its few genuine moments of emotion. This production was definitely a mixed bag. Things moved quicker without the barricades, but the epic quality was diminished and much of the emotional honesty that made Les Misérables the monster hit it is had been replaced with slick, deft, and professional show biz pizzazz. And it still packs 'em in! – at the Cadillac Palace, Chicago

And remember, if the shoe fits... Until next time.

© 2017 Jeffrey Geddes

MUSICAL MAYHEM: MY TOP TWENTY-FIVE MUSICALS The Honor Roll - Part 8

MUSICAL MAYHEM: MY TOP TWENTY-FIVE MUSICALS

The Honor Roll - Part 8

After a break for rehearsals for A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (I play Erronius), it's time to chat about the last two musicals in my Musical Honor Roll. The only thing these two shows have in common is that they both start with the letter "K." (Okay, okay…one starts with "The," but still….)

So without further ado….let's start.

KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN  – Book by Terrence McNally, Music by John Kander, Lyrics by Fred Ebb

"Sooner or later/You're certain to meet/In the bedroom, the parlor or even the street/There's no place on earth/You're likely to miss/Her kiss." The 1985 film adaptation of Manuel Puig's acclaimed novel won an Oscar for star William Hurt. It was depressing, violent, and yet, oddly life-affirming and hopeful. But, when your locale is a South American prison, your protagonists are a gay man imprisoned for having sex with a minor and a political activist imprisoned for belonging to an anti-government group, and where torture is part of the everyday routine, how do you translate that material into a musical? When I first heard of this project, I immediately thought of Stephen Sondheim. It's the sort of dark and serious material he excels at. I was a bit surprised, then, when I heard that John Kander and Fred Ebb were going to supply the score. In retrospect, I have no idea why since Kander and Ebb were the music folks behind the landmark Cabaret, and if they could write a stunning musical with Nazis lurking in the background, well, a prison locale should be no problem. Add Terrence McNally as the book writer and the legendary Harold Prince as the director and the prospects for an exciting evening of musical theatre were indeed great. But the road to Broadway acclaim wasn't an easy one. An expensive 1990 workshop by the now-defunct New Musicals, directed by Prince and starring Lauren Mitchell, Kevin Gray, John Rubenstein and Harry Goz and choreographed by Susan Stroman, did not succeed either artistically or critically. In 1992, Canadian producer Garth Drabinsky (before he went to prison for fraud and forgery…oops) and his production company, Livent, opened a revised production in Toronto, which subsequently crossed the Pond to a successful run on the West End, and then on May 3, 1993, it opened in New York starring Chita Rivera, Brent Carver, and Anthony Crivello and, a few weeks later, would win seven Tony Awards including Best Musical and Best Score. Like a spider, Kiss of the Spider Woman weaves a web, it draws you in. You become invested in the story. Fantasy and reality crisscross and intersect each other as you applaud a fantasy production number one moment and then, in the next, become deathly quiet when a scream from a tortured prisoner jolts you back to the horrid reality of the musical's locale. Kiss of the Spider Woman is unsettling. It is profoundly human. It is breathtaking. And it will haunt you long after the curtain has come down.

October, 1993. Starring the one and only Chita Rivera as Aurora/Spider Woman (Tony Award), the very hot and sultry Anthony Crivello as the political prisoner Valentin (Tony Award) and a magnetic and touching Jeff Hyslop, replacing Brent Carver, as Molina, the gay window dresser sex offender, this was one of those truly magical evenings at the theatre. Harold Prince's thrilling staging was matched by spectacular choreography by Vincent Paterson and Rob Marshall, and boy, would I love to know who did what, and provided a layered, sensitive production filled with both unexpected tender moments and flat-out, jaw-dropping production numbers. Exquisitely designed by Jerome Sirlin (Scenic), Howell Binkley (Lights) and Florence Klotz (Costumes/Tony Award), the environment fit the smallish Broadhurst Theatre (just over 1150 seats) like a glove. Using projections, a vibrant sound design, and blessed with some of New York's finest actors, Terrence McNally's glorious book, and Kander and Ebb's memorable score ("Dear One," "You Could Never Shame Me," "Where You Are," and the title song are all high points in a score of riches), we in the audience were taken on a journey we would not soon forget. And I still haven't. – at the Broadhurst Theatre, New York

Sidebar: In June, 1994, Vanessa Williams, in her Broadway debut, Howard McGillin and Brian Mitchell, as Stokes was known then, took over the leading roles. The critics came back to review the show and threw their figurative hats in the air in salute to Ms. Williams, some even suggesting that this was a superior, sexier cast than the original. A new cast album was recorded featuring the Williams cast. It's the recording I have. It's damn tasty.

September, 1995. When Livent made the bold decision to tour Kiss of the Spider Woman, and, yes, it was pretty bold because even with the big Tony wins, the subject material does not scream boffo road box office, they had the good sense to hire their original Tony-winning star, Chita Rivera, to head up the affair. And, not surprisingly, she brought  star quality and charisma to the Merriam stage. A duplicate of the Broadway production, this had all the bells and whistles and a skilled cast that put it all across. Merle Louise recreated her role as Molina's mother for the tour. Juan Chioran was an effective Molina, sensitive, graceful and ultimately heroic. Dorian Harewood, replacing the originally-billed John Dossett as Valentin, gave a competent, but not very exciting performance. He wasn't bad, mind you; he just didn't seem to always be on the same page as the rest of the folks. A first quality tour of an outstanding show. – at the Merriam Theater, Philadelphia

Sidebar: For decades the Merriam Theater was the Sam S. Shubert Theatre and a popular out-of-town tryout stop for New York-bound plays and musicals. Renovated and buffed to a sheen, it's truly a gorgeous venue.

March/April, 2008. As part of their Kander and Ebb celebration, the always-reliable Signature Theatre in Arlington, Virginia, mounted a stunning production of Kiss of the Spider Woman. Beautifully designed to take full advantage of the intimate space, played by an outstanding 10-piece orchestra, and performed by a talented cast of just fourteen men and women (the original cast had 21), this production provided an immediacy to the show, made the audience feel they truly were part of the action. Starring a vibrant and engaging Hunter Foster as Molina, a sexy and swaggering Will Chase as Valentin and a smoking-hot Natascia Diaz as Aurora/Spider Woman, this production was dazzling. Bob had never seen the show before and he was absolutely hooked. Perhaps not as show-business spectacular as the original, this was equally spectacular, but in a grittier way that gave the show an unexpected jolt of power, passion, and even more potent violence. Signature never fails to impress. – at the Max (Signature Theatre), Arlington, VA

THE KING AND I  – Book and Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II, Music by Richard Rodgers

The original poster and marquee for The King and I starring the legendary Gertrude Lawrence in her final Broadway triumph. She would, tragically, die during her run in the show.

I have always found it unfair when folks accuse Rodgers and Hammerstein of writing only popular, tuneful, but ultimately inconsequential musicals. Even a cursory glance at their "Big Five" disproves that assumption. Carousel's leading couple are in an abusive relationship. The Sound of Music has Nazis mucking up things in Act Two. South Pacific has a subplot about racism. Even Oklahoma! has a dark side to it with the arbitrariness of mob "frontier" justice and how easy it is for people to misjudge others. (If Jud in reality was such a vile character, why did R&H give him the gorgeous "Lonely Room," arguably the best song in the score?) In The King and I, Rodger and Hammerstein take Margaret Landon's novel Anna and the King of Siam, a semi-fictionalized work based on Anna Leonowens memoirs, and weave a tale of East versus West, tradition versus change, and even man versus woman. The lyrics to the song "Western People Funny," often a throwaway to open the second act, not-so-subtly point up the perceived Western superiority to Eastern values and traditions. In the show, Anna emphasizes that the way to impress the contingent of arriving British officials is to emulate European standards of dress and deportment. Tradition versus change: the King wants to bring his country into modern times, but not necessarily at the expense of the traditions of his country, e.g. the keeping of slaves, the absolute authority of the king, etc. This conflict runs throughout the entire show right up to the final curtain in the moving closing scene where the present and future meet. The theme of men versus women also is always present, especially in the song "Shall I Tell You What I Think of You?," and the playful, yet pointed, final scene in Act One. For me, the most potent scene in the show is near the end, when Tuptim is captured after her runaway attempt. The King takes the whip to punish her, but, under Anna's gaze, cannot. He throws the whip down and exits, a broken man and monarch. And Anna, realizing that her efforts to bring Siam into modern times have had some disastrous, unexpected results, is equally devastated. Played and directed well, it's a powerful, uncomfortable, and telling scene. The King and I would have made the Musical Honor Roll if it had nothing more going for it except for the song "Something Wonderful," in my opinion one of the finest songs ever written for the stage. But, thankfully, Oscar Hammerstein gave us an layered book with emotion and humor and outstanding lyrics, and Richard Rodgers gave us that memorable, wonderful score that starts with that incomparable overture and doesn't end until the curtain falls. Often overlooked as a masterpiece of musical theatre is Jerome Robbins' thrilling "The Small House of Uncle Thomas" with its in-your-face anti-slavery message. Pretty heady stuff for 1951, when the show first premiered, and just as compelling today. The legendary Gertrude Lawrence, in a part written for her, originated the role of Anna when the show open at the St. James Theatre on March 29, 1951. Yul Brynner was the King. As written, the King is almost a supporting role. After all, it's not called Anna and I. Over the years, however, especially after Yul Brynner's Oscar win for Best Actor in the film version of The King and I, and most especially with the numerous Brynner-led revivals and tours of the show, the focus shifted from Anna to the King to the point where Anna almost seemed superfluous. The 1996 revival restored character integrity and the show, happily, is now about Anna and the King and not the King and, oh yeah, Anna. I found this quote on Wikipedia, and it's a lovely summary of the show, so I'm going to use it. "The King and I is really a celebration of love in all its guises, from the love of Anna for her dead husband; the love of the King's official wife, Lady Thiang, for a man she knows is flawed and also unfaithful; the desperation of forbidden love; and a love that is barely recognized and can never be acted upon." (Meryle Secrest, Somewhere for Me – A Biography of Richard Rodgers). A beautiful show, still "something wonderful" sixty-five years after its premiere.

 August, 1976. Back in 1976, diversity in casting was pretty much an unknown concept, which could perhaps explain why the very un-Asian Marti Rolph, John Stewart and Terry Saunders played Tuptim, Lun Tha and Lady Thiang, respectively. Let me hasten to add, they were all very talented and good in their roles. I don't know how "Asian" they were made to look, since our seats were in the last row of Terrace B in the massive 11,000 seat Muny Opera in St. Louis. Perfect sightlines, mind you, but everyone was sooooo small. (I'm sure to be even vaguely seen from the cheap seats, stage makeup was liberally applied with a trowel.) But at four bucks, the price was right and it was my first time seeing Yul Brynner in his iconic role. The Muny does not do cheap, so the production was well-designed, well-sung, and, in addition to Brynner, had Broadway vet Constance Towers as Anna and the aforementioned Ms. Saunders, recreating her film role as Lady Thiang, to amp up the star power. Sitting in beautiful Forest Park under a star-filled sky and listening to the lush sounds of Rodgers and Hammerstein's gorgeous score is a pretty terrific way to spend a summer evening. It was all grand, pretty, tuneful, and satisfyingly acted. I would have a more vivid memory of another Brynner/Towers performance two and one-half years later. – at the Municipal Opera, St. Louis

Sidebar: The Muny engagement was produced by impresarios Lee Guber and Shelly Gross, famous for their large suburban in-the-round venues located on the East Coast. Depending on the source, this was either a stop on a national tour prior to Broadway or it was considered a regional tour. In any event, this particular production played the Muny, the Starlight of Kansas City (another huge outdoor venue) and Guber and Gross' Valley Forge Music Fair, Painters Mill Music Fair, and Westbury Music Fair. Of the last three venues, only Westbury is still around, but under a different name. I suspect that the physical production traveled across Missouri to Kansas City, but probably not to the other theatres since they were not proscenium houses. Messrs. Guber and Gross would produce the first major revival of The King and I on Broadway in May, 1977, a production which also starred Yul Brynner and Constance Towers. None of the designers, the director, or the supporting players from the Muny production are listed on the IBDB.com opening night cast/credits for the revival, so I'm wondering if the Muny production was just as the one source called it, a regional tour, and based on the success of that tour, Guber and Gross decided to mount an entirely new production for Broadway. This production would have a long post-Broadway tour, including a stop in Chicago. (See the next entry.)

January, 1979. This sumptuous production came to the Arie Crown after a long Broadway engagement. The draw, of course, was Yul Brynner recreating his signature role as the King of Siam. And, on the surface, he was very good at it. But, if you looked closer, you could tell that, though not quite just going through the paces, he truly wasn't in the moment. Big mistake because co-star Constance Towers WAS in the moment and as a result she stole the show from him. At bows, the audience stood as one and cheered mightily for Towers, but when Brynner came out for his solo bow, the volume decreased noticeably. Oops. Towers for the win! Not-at-all Asian Martin Vidnovic played Lun Tha, and sang it beautifully, but overall this was a more racially diverse cast with actors of Asian descent playing Tuptim (a radiant June Angela) and Lady Thiang (a majestic Hye-Young Choi). Curiously, I would see Vidnovic as the King in another touring production decades later. A grand production that almost managed to make the Arie Crown tolerable. – at the Arie Crown Theatre, Chicago

Sidebar: There is no doubt that the role of the King will forever be associated with its originator, Yul Brynner. And perhaps rightly so. Over the years, however, and before the 1996 revival that shifted the focus back to Anna as it always should have been, an interesting parade of actors tried their hand at singing "A Puzzlement," etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Among them: Farley Granger (!), Rudolph Nureyev (huh?), Herbert Lom (the original London King), and Darren McGavin (TV's Mike Hammer). A recording of Darren McGavin and opera's Risë Stevens, as Anna, from the defunct Music Theater of Lincoln Center's 1964 production, makes for interesting listening. To give you an idea of Yul Brynner's box office clout, when Brynner and Towers took a three-week vacation from the show during this 1977-1978 revival, Michael Kermoyan, Brynner's long-time standby and stalwart Kralahome veteran, and Angela Lansbury, yes, the Angela Lansbury, took over the leading roles. The box office tanked.

Not the cast we saw, but it's a cool marquee design. 

May, 1997. The revival that sailed into the Neil Simon Theatre in April, 1996, had its origins Down Under in a 1991 production starring Hayley Mills. Director Christopher Renshaw took a hard look at the show and gave it a fresh, darker, more dynamic look that made the show more vibrant, more alive, more human. Still magnificent to look at, though perhaps not as over-the-top sumptuous as previous productions, all Asian roles in this production were played by actors of Asian descent. Lou Diamond Phillips (the film La Bamba) was a sexy, compelling King, sometimes playful, sometimes monarchial, sometimes maddeningly stubborn, and sometimes touchingly vulnerable.   (Mr. Phillips is a true "coat of many colors" of ancestry. He's of Scots-Irish, Cherokee, Filipino, Chinese, Japanese, and Spanish descent. Wow.) Faith Prince was a spunky, cheeky Anna. Interestingly and puzzlingly, Prince seemed somewhat robotic for the first twenty minutes or so. Don't get me wrong. She was still hitting all the notes and doing all the right things, but her heart didn't seem to be into it. But then along came "Getting to Know You" and it was as if someone flipped a switch and Prince became truly alive and nailed the rest of the performance. Strange. This was a wonderful new take on an old familiar friend. – at the Neil Simon Theatre, New York.

Sidebar: Though critically acclaimed, at least one theatre arts professional dismissed Renshaw's vision as a The King and I for the age of political correctness. Really?

June, 1998. The final stop on the First National Company's tour of North America, the Christopher Renshaw-helmed production of The King and I starred Victor Talmadge, the King for the entire tour, and pop singer Maureen McGovern as Anna, a newcomer to the role having played Anna for only a few weeks prior to Chicago. I hate the term "pop singer" and it hardly applies to the supple voice of Ms. McGovern. Yes, she still is probably best known for providing the vocals to the treacly "The Morning After" from The Poseidon Adventure and the equally banal "We May Never Love Like This Again" from The Towering Inferno, but this talented songstress can sing pop, jazz, and show music with equal ease and skill. The fact that she kicked butt singing the classic R&H tunes didn't surprise me in the least. I was pleasantly surprised, however, by her acting chops and her portrayal of Anna as a feisty, independent woman. The physical production looked splendid in the beautiful Auditorium Theatre and overall it was a first-rate production. – at the Auditorium Theatre, Chicago

August, 2004. Under the auspices of Atlanta's Theater of the Stars, this 2004 tour had its admirers and its detractors. Though this had more sumptuous elements in the design departments than the 1996 Broadway revival and the 1998 national tour that also played at the Auditorium, it didn't have the edge that Christopher Renshaw brought to his production. Under the reverential guidance of Baayork Lee, a veteran of the original 1951 production (she was one of the King's children), this was a more traditional The King and I. Martin Vidnovic, a previously-seen un-Asian Lun Tha in 1979, was now playing an un-Asian King. I like Mr. Vidnovic and enjoyed his performances in Oklahoma! and Brigadoon, but I'm drawing a blank on his performance here. (And I'm truly not picking on Mr. Vidnovic because he's not Asian. But in 2004, there was absolutely no reason why a professional Equity production of The King and I  should not be appropriately racially cast.) Sandy Duncan played Anna as you would expect Sandy Duncan to play Anna…full of spunk and sass. That spunkiness and sassiness worked wonders in Peter Pan, but here it wasn't quite as successful, especially in the more serious moments. Now, I must say I had a grand time watching her, and her stage presence and charm are undeniable, but I missed the depth that Misses Towers, Prince and McGovern brought to the role. The admirers loved the traditionalism of this production; the detractors thought Duncan needed to be reined in and the production overall a bit cheesy. Not my favorite production of it, but I enjoyed it. – at the Auditorium Theatre, Chicago

It's official! Betsy's going on!! So stoked!

September, 2015. Lincoln Center knows how to produce Rodgers and Hammerstein classics. The iconic score was played as it should be heard with a full orchestra, complete with a string section and, be still my heart, a harp! Bob's former student, Betsy Morgan, was Kelli O'Hara's standby for the role of Anna Leonowens. Not the understudy, you understand, but the standby, thank you very much. Via an article on Playbill.com, I found out that Betsy would be subbing for O'Hara for three performances when O'Hara went out of state to fulfill previous benefit commitments. Well, obviously, this was not to be missed, so we contacted Betsy, bought her house seats, and were dazzled by this beautiful, spare-no-expense production. More traditional in approach than the Christopher Renshaw version, this production, under Bartlett Sher's assured direction, had a strong focus on character and character interaction, especially in the Anna/King dynamic. The production was absolutely stunning to look at and when Anna's ship glided out over the orchestra to start the show, it was a breathtaking moment that reminded me once again how incomparable live theatre is. Jose Llana, Lun Tha in the 1996 revival, was a magnetic, exuberant, yet also regal, King. Tony-winner Ruthie Ann Miles was majestic and strong as Lady Thiang. Ashley Park and Conrad Ricamora (Oliver in TV's How to Get Away with Murder) were suitably both attractive and tragic as Tuptim and Lun Tha. They also sang the parts really, really well! And what about Betsy? She was, in a word, glorious. From her first entrance on the ship as it entered Bangkok to her final curtain, she was assured, intelligent, feisty and just plain terrific. The audience loved her. And let's get serious here...how thrilling is it to see a former student take a well-deserved last bow on Broadway to a standing ovation? Bob was just bursting with pride. Visiting her backstage afterwards was the perfect end to a marvelous evening. (This is kind of fun. This is from my Facebook entry on the evening…"One quibble...Bartlett Sher, your curtain doesn't touch the floor and from we were sitting, the hem looked uneven. You might want to look into that.") – at the Vivian Beaumont Theater, New York

And that concludes my Musical Honor Roll. Let's recap in alpha order: 1776, Annie, Bells Are Ringing, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, Billy Elliot, Fun Home, The Full Monty, The King and I, Kiss of the Spider Woman, La Cage aux Folles, Mame, The Scottsboro Boys, She Loves Me, Sweeney Todd, They're Playing Our Song, Titanic

More to come….

© 2016 Jeffrey Geddes