LET'S START AT THE VERY BEGINNING – Episode 4

LET'S START AT THE VERY BEGINNING – Episode 4

(a wholly-owned subsidiary of Alphabet Soup)

"Let's start at the very beginning/A very good place to start/When you read you begin with A-B-C…"

It's all about "C" today:  the Pulitzer Prize-winning groundbreaking musical about dancers; a musical with a divine score about the best of all possible worlds; Arthur, Guenevere, and Lancelot in-the-round; a revue celebrating an iconic hoofer; a Cinderella story with a twist; and a Sherlock Holmes adventure. Get comfy and we'll begin.

A CHORUS LINE

– Shubert Theatre, New York

May, 1977. Before there was Hamilton, before there was Wicked, there was A Chorus Line. Michael Bennett's 1975 musical about dancers auditioning for one of the coveted chorus spots in an upcoming Broadway show won practically every award in sight, including the Best Musical Tony Award among its nine wins, the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, and the Drama Desk Award. It sold out every performance for years and ended its then record-breaking run after just over fifteen years and 6,137 performances. When I first saw A Chorus Line, it was just under two years into its run. It was still the hottest ticket in New York, and I went into the Shubert with high excitement, but, curiously, I left the theatre that night not quite sure what all the fuss was about. I say "curiously" because this should have been right up my alley. I love backstage shows, the feeling that you're getting the real scoop on the goings-on. You know you're not, of course, but it's still fun. And since A Chorus Line was written based on conversations with dancers, many of them in the original cast, I thought this would be the ultimate backstage musical. But… Now I know I'm probably in the minority here, but I didn't think then, and don't think now, that A Chorus Line is as brilliant as many claim it to be. Don't get me wrong. It's a good show, a very good show, a terrific show, in fact, and I've seen it a number of times, but it sometimes gets caught up in its concept, and you don't always buy what it's trying to sell. Plus it has the longest song cue in the history of musical theatre. The lead-up to "What I Did for Love" has at least three false cues and goes on forever. "What would you do if you couldn't dance anymore?" Who cares? Just get on with the damn song. All that stop-and-start nonsense broke the rhythm of the piece, and the song was sung with such maudlin intensity, well, it felt like the whole segment belonged in another show. Among the talented dancers in the cast were Wayne Cilento, Vicki Frederick, Mitzi Hamilton, and Thomas J. Walsh, who as Thommie Walsh, would collaborate with Tommy Tune and snag a couple of Tonys in the process. – at the Shubert Theatre, New York

Longest-Running Show…well, for a while at least: It was perhaps indicative of what the American musical theatre had become when Cats overtook A Chorus Line as the longest-running musical in 1997. Currently, A Chorus Line is the 7th longest-running show, following the champ, The Phantom of the Opera, The Lion King, the aforementioned Cats, the paint-by-numbers Wicked, Les Misérables, and, in an especially ironic turnabout, the second place show, the revival of Chicago, the musical that A Chorus Line annihilated in every category at the 1976 Tony Awards. Still going strong after over twenty-three years and over 9,700 performances. And all that jazz, indeed!

– Shubert Theatre, Chicago

March, 1978; June, 1978; September, 1978; December, 1978. The eagerly-awaited arrival in Chicago of A Chorus Line took place on January 9, 1978, and it settled into the Shubert Theatre for an 11-month run, perhaps not as spectacular as its producers anticipated, and certainly not as impressive as the multi-year runs of Wicked and Hamilton several decades later, but, still and all, a long run. Chicago favorite Anthony Teague, here Anthony S. Teague, played Zach. Early on in the run, I met Keith Keen. At the time he was 21 and was playing Larry. Keith was the boyfriend of my roommate's former boyfriend, and my roommate and his former squeeze had remained friends, so that explains meeting Keith, etc. The cast was younger than the cast I'd seen in New York a year earlier, so the dialogue didn't always land with a been-there-done-that-and-I-really-need-this-job resonance, but to a person, they all danced with precision. During the run in Chicago, twenty-year-old Wanda Richert would don Cassie's red dress, and, though, far too young to have experienced Cassie's ups and downs, she delivered an electric "The Music and the Mirror." Linda Winer of the Chicago Tribune gave a mixed review of the show, feeling, as I did when I saw it in New York, that technique often won out over heart. No matter. The show sold a lot of tickets in its eleven months in the Windy City. – at the Shubert Theatre, Chicago

 Wanda Richert...far too young for Cassie, but, a terrific dancer.

 Mid-run ad.

Heralding the last week.

Wanda and Keith: Wanda Richert would achieve her greatest success at the tender age of twenty-two when she originated the role of Peggy Sawyer in 42nd Street. Almost eclipsing her performance was the fact that she had been Gower Champion's girlfriend at the time, and would learn of his death on 42nd Street's opening night when producer David Merrick announced it from the stage after curtain calls. In 2008, Richert became an ordained minister. Keith was one of the good ones, a kind, gentle, talented man. He would return to Chicago when the tour of Dancin' played Chicago, and we met for coffee once or twice after he returned to New York. My college roommate had a major crush on him. Keith died from AIDS in 1991 while appearing in a revival of Fiddler on the Roof. He was 34.

– Shubert Theatre, Chicago

 Farewell tour-1983

Farewell tour cast-1983

February, 1983. The "International Company" of A Chorus Line returned to Chicago for its fourth and final engagement of the original edition. At the peak of its popularity, A Chorus Line had six companies dancing on the line worldwide. Once the Chicago engagement ended, the show moved to Boston for its final stop, leaving the New York flagship as the only remaining example of Michael Bennett's original vision. To be honest, I don't remember a thing about this production. In fact, I'd forgotten about it until I checked the date of the Playbill and found the ticket stub. The Tribune's Richard Christiansen liked it. – at the Shubert Theatre, Chicago

– Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, New York

 

December, 2006. The first, and to date only, revival of A Chorus Line was an exhumation of the landmark original, and I mean that in the best way possible, for this Chorus Line was a virtual doppelgänger of the version that opened in 1975 and set the musical theatre world on its ear. Wisely, the producers kept the show in 1975. Production-wise, everything was recreated by its original designers, down to Cassie's iconic red dress. Michael Bennett's direction and choreography was recreated by Baayork Lee and Bob Avian, respectively. And it was that slavish nod to the original that bothered some critics. The New York Times likened the production to a vintage car that has been polished up and taken back out on the road. Newsday was harsher stating, "The treatment of every step-kick as holy scripture brings the faint whiff of mothballs to memory lane." Sorry, critics, but that wasn't my impression at all. If anything, I found this fresh, gleaming production to be more involving, more precise, more "singular sensational" than the original production. Perhaps that was partially due to the intimate surroundings of the Schoenfeld, née Plymouth, Theatre, and some really good seats. But I think it was because A Chorus Line was still, thirty-one years later, head and shoulders above the Wickeds and Phantoms in scope and concept. The things that annoyed me decades earlier didn't bother me in 2006, and it was a pleasure to hear "What I Did for Love" sung without histrionics. "At the Ballet" thrilled. And when the company turned to face the audience, headshots in front of their faces, at the end of the opening sequence, the audience burst into ecstatic applause. The superlative cast of triple-threats included Jason Tam, Chryssie Whitehead, Tony Yazbek, Mara Davi, and Michael Berresse. For my money, though, the two true standouts were Deidre Goodwin's Sheila and especially Charlotte d'Amboise's exquisite Cassie. Both ladies are among the tops in their field and the expertise showed. I came across this in Variety's review of this revival: "…the show spins a line of dancers auditioning for a Broadway chorus into a universal metaphor for anyone struggling for recognition in a competitive world. Its stinging irony is that even as their individual hopes, dreams and vulnerabilities are explored, the dancers are being groomed to join an assembly line." Still relevant today. – at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, New York

Don't Miss…Every Little Step is a 2009 documentary about the audition process for the 2006 revival. Absolutely riveting. A must for any musical theatre fan.

CANDIDE
- Broadway Theatre, New York

 The colors have faded, but, hey, I took these marquee shots in 1974! 

June, 1974. The 1956 original was a 73-performance prestige flop. By all accounts, Lillian Hellman's book and Tyrone Guthrie's direction, neither noted for their musical theatre experience, were heavy-handed and pretentious, but the Leonard Bernstein score was, and rightly so, highly praised. Over the intervening years, productions were mounted to try to overcome the problematic book and the issues of presentational style. In 1974, Harold Prince tried his hand at it, and the result was a free-wheeling, joyous romp through Voltaire's satirical "best of all possible worlds." Hugh Wheeler wrote a new book. Stephen Sondheim provided some new lyrics to augment the original ones by Richard Wilbur and John Latouche. The large Broadway Theatre was converted from a traditional 1,761 seat theatre into a environmental playground seating 900 with playing areas scattered throughout the theatre, including the stage, courtesy of those design geniuses Eugene Lee, Franne Lee, and Tharon Musser. Patricia Birch provided the musical staging, and Harold Prince's sure direction made this former flop into a happy hit. Lewis J. Stadlen headed up the cast that also included Mark Baker, Maureen Brennan, Sam Freed, June Gable, and Deborah St. Darr. My seat in the Bleachers, i.e. former Mezzanine, was near the area where Ms. Brennan gleefully praised everything sparkly and glittery in "Glitter and Be Gay." I was enchanted. During the 1974 award season, Candide would walk away with five Tony Awards and five Drama Desk Awards. Not bad for a former flop. I absolutely loved this! – at the Broadway Theatre, New York

Those Damn Walkers: At 740 performances, this should have been a hit, but, sadly, it wasn't. At the time musician minimums were determined by the theatre itself regardless of its seating capacity for any given production. The minimum for the 1,761 seat Broadway was twenty-six musicians. Candide had been scored and budgeted for only thirteen. The producers appealed to the musicians' union for a waiver of that minimum, arguing that the theatre was seating only 900. The union refused the request, and Candide's roster of musicians consisted of thirteen playing musicians and thirteen "walkers" – nonplaying union members who walked in once a week to pick up a paycheck and then walk right back out. This drove the weekly costs to non-sustainable levels and the show closed at a loss.

     Over the years, Local 802 (musicians) and the producer organizations have gone back and forth over this issue. I absolutely love theatre contracts, etc. If I had had any brains when I was at uni, I would've studied entertainment/theatre law. Anyhow, musician minimums still are a thing. Here's the scoop circa the 2011 contract (note the drastic reduction for the Broadway Theatre, home of Candide.). I couldn't the current contract in a Google search:

(all figures include leader):

- Broadway, Minskoff, St. James, New Amsterdam, Lyric and Marquis – 19

- Majestic, Palace, Lunt-Fontanne, Imperial, Gershwin, Shubert and Winter Garden – 18

- Neil Simon, Al Hirschfeld and Richard Rodgers – 14

- August Wilson and Broadhurst - 12

- Barrymore, Music Box and Gerald Schoenfeld- 9

- Brooks Atkinson, Eugene O'Neill and Bernard Jacobs – 8

- Longacre and Nederlander – 4

- Ambassador, Belasco, Booth, Circle in the Square, Cort, Golden, Walter Kerr and Lyceum – 3

(missing are the non-profits such as Lincoln Center, MTC, Roundabout, etc. and their venues: American Airlines, Vivian Beaumont, Studio 54, etc.)

- In the event that a revival is presented in a Broadway theatre, the minimum number of musicians to be employed shall be the number scored for the original Broadway production or the minimum of the theatre in which the revival performs, whichever is less.

And that concludes today's bit of theatre trivia! 

– Goodman Theatre, Chicago

September, 2010. The term "reimagined" when applied to a classic theatre piece is usually a "Danger, Will Robinson!" indicator for me. More often than not, I find nothing has been added dramatically or artistically to warrant the "reimagined" elements, and I usually find the changes unnecessary. (There are exceptions. The 2019-2020 revival of Oklahoma! was a thrilling reimaging of the R&H classic.) In Goodman Theatre's misguided production, Candide fell victim to the "reimagined" scourge under the direction, or rather misdirection, of theatre darling Mary Zimmerman. Competently, if not excitingly, cast, the show lumbered through an interminable two acts. The orchestra, too small at 12, gave us an anemic overture, which started the evening off on a sour note. Gimmicks replaced honesty. "Glitter and Be Gay" became about a costume change with the leading lady struggling to hit the highest notes. I hated virtually every minute of it.  I'm not sure why we didn't leave at the interval. – at the Goodman Theatre, Chicago

CAMELOT – Arena Stage, Washington, D.C.

 I find this image rather haunting. Clues the audience their not getting their fairy-tale Camelot.

January, 2004. With almost as many tales told about it as its source material and characters, Camelot survived mediocre reviews, the curse of being the show that followed its creators' masterpiece, My Fair Lady, and initial box-office ennui to become an enduring staple of musical theatre. The show has its problems. It often seems unfocused, unsure what the thrust of the story is. There tends to be too much fat where crisp storytelling would accomplish the same thing with better effect. Most productions I've seen tend to romanticize the proceedings, ignoring the fact that the story at its heart is one of adultery, betrayal, and the loss of a dream that never could have succeeded. But then, there is that score, that insanely glorious Lerner and Loewe score that makes faults almost seem irrelevant. Notice I said "almost." Arena Stage's production of this now-classic musical hit all the right notes, both musically and emotionally, giving its audiences a refreshingly adult Camelot that didn't shy away from the inherently dark themes, yet didn't skimp on the show's lighter moments. In its arena staging, it looked lush and expensive, sounded terrific courtesy of its sixteen-piece orchestra, and was cast with an impressive roster of talent lead by Steven Skybell, Kate Suber, and Matt Bogart. Yet for all its virtues, director Molly Smith could not overcome the stumbling blocks in the material, most notably the godawful scene featuring Mordred, Morgan Le Fey, and Arthur in the forest just before our adulterous lovers are exposed. Having said that, however, the opportunity to hear the beautiful score so radiantly sung was worth any and all warts in the show. We saw this on January 2. What a wonderful way to welcome in 2004. – at the Arena Stage (Fichandler Stage), Washington, D.C.

Retooling Arthur's World: MTI holds the rights to Camelot. As written, Camelot has a large cast of seven principals and ensemble. A few years back, MTI authorized a small-cast version with a cast of eight – one woman (Guenevere) and seven men (Arthur, Lancelot, Mordred, Sir Dinaden, Sir Lionel, Sir Sagramore, Tom of Warwick). The adapter, with, I assume, the blessings of the Lerner and Loewe estates, trimmed the book to the basic storyline, that of Arthur, Guenevere, and Lancelot. Gone is the pretty, but extraneous "Follow Me," since both Nimue and Merlin are excised in this version. Gone is the awful Morgan Le Fey scene. Some of the big production numbers are shortened, simplified. While this version is more dramatically sound, it comes at the cost of some of the show's color, specifically the absence of the Pellinore character. That character added some lovely warmth and support to the show. This version is available for reading on the MTI website. Overall, I like it, but I hate the framing device the adapter used of the actors all doubling as "Revelers," narrators of the story. It's all unnecessary and adds an element that, in its own way, diminishes the impact of the story. Still, it's an inventive way to showcase this story and its score.

CHITA RIVERA: THE DANCER'S LIFE – Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, New York

January, 2006. I've been privileged to see the legendary Chita Rivera in Chicago, Kiss of the Spider Woman, The Visit, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, a strange play called Father's Day at Chicago's Ivanhoe Theatre, and the disastrous sequel to Bye Bye Birdie, Bring Back Birdie. She truly is in the highest ranks of theatre icons. Unfortunately, her show was not. Perhaps Elaine Stritch's Elaine Stritch: At Liberty a few years earlier set the bar too high for these autobiographical retrospectives. Perhaps Rivera was just too nice during the evening. Perhaps the execution of a great concept was just too unfocused. Whatever the case, while the evening was modestly entertaining throughout, and though Rivera was charming and disarmingly humble, it just sadly registered as a disappointment. At seventy-three, she still gave us a taste of the younger Rivera dance pizzazz, but most of the dancing was done by her ensemble, carefully chosen to be good enough to be able to pull off the routines with elan, but not good enough to outshine the star of the show, even with Rivera's limited moves. While Rivera's stories were never less than enjoyable, to hear her tell it, she loved everyone she ever worked with, and if a hint of conflict slipped in, it was so innocuous, it was all but non-existent. You don't become a star of Rivera's magnitude without some issues and a more bracing narrative would have helped the show immeasurably. (By contrast, Stritch praised and damned with equal commitment, which made her evening about as thrilling as it gets. You really saw what makes a legend.) I went with a work colleague while on a layover, and she enjoyed the show immensely. For me, the highlight of the evening was running into Angela Lansbury before the show at the back of the orchestra and exchanging some pleasantries before heading upstairs. For the record, she was as gracious as you'd hope. Not a bad evening, but it could have been so much more. – at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, New York

CINDERELLA – The Old Vic, London

January, 2008. Colleen's first panto. In Variety's review of Stephen Fry's only foray, sadly, into pantomime, reviewer David Benedict gave this rather precise description of a panto: "The wildly popular, unfathomably British traditional family entertainment pantomime is vividly theatrical. Age-old vaudeville-style routines are interpolated into fairy tales and the fourth wall is torn down as audiences of all ages loudly cheer heroes, hiss baddies, yell catchphrases and participate fit to bust." The panto is something many Brits grow up on, so the audience at The Old Vic covered every age from young children to aged pensioners. Decidedly not your typical Cinderella tale, Stephen Fry upended tradition by writing the first mainstream panto with a decidedly gay tilt. Narrated by The Great British Baking Show's Sandi Toksvig (in drag), this Cinderella featured the requisite pining beautiful princess, the handsome strapping prince, the evil stepsisters in traditional panto drag, broad performances, and enough bad puns to keep the audience both groaning and laughing. All very traditional panto. But then Fry added an unexpected gay subplot between Cinderella's male BFF Buttons and the Prince's male BFF Dandini, and the result was a panto both sophisticated and silly and totally delightful. Tony-winner Pauline Collins (Shirley Valentine) was the star power in the production, and she chewed scenery with gleeful abandon as an East End Fairy Godmother. Very funny indeed. There was some shirtless action between the Prince and Dandini in a chaste shower scene…you don't get that in Dick Whittington and His Cat! Plus a fabulous score by Anne Dudley, sadly never recorded, terrific scenery, fabulous costumes, and everyone yelling "CAKE!!" It was divine. We had a blast! – at The Old Vic, London

Critics Suck: I frankly thought the show would have been awash with raves. It was clever and fresh, deliciously urban and adult, yet filled with enough action and color to keep the youngest audience members entertained. But, I was wrong. By and large, the critics hated it. Thought it was too crude, filled with too much innuendo and what was with that gay stuff with wee ones in the audience? Horrors! And so, this delightfully subversive treat finished out its run and faded from view. A shame, too. Who needs yet another Dick Whittington?

THE CRUCIFER OF BLOOD – Helen Hayes Theatre, New York

April, 1979. Paul Giovanni's Sherlock Holmes adventure, The Crucifer of Blood, had the misfortune of opening during a newspaper strike. Whether or not that had something to do with its relatively short run is academic. I found the show a bit obtuse at times, but overall entertaining. With an abundance of locales, the show was pretty to look at, loaded with gorgeous Victorian togs, and strongly cast with Paxton Whitehead, as Sherlock Holmes, Timothy Landsfield as Watson, Christopher Curry, Dwight Schultz, Nicolas Surovy (son of opera star Risё Stevens), and a thirty-two-year-old Glenn Close before she became GLENN CLOSE. Based on Arthur Conan Doyle's The Sign of the Four, the plot revolved around a cursed treasure chest, a pact sealed with blood, revenge, treachery, and betrayal. You know, standard matinee stuff. It was made into a 1991 TV movie starring Charlton "Give Me My Guns" Heston, recreating his Los Angeles stage role as Holmes. I've not seen it. Probably the most interesting thing in retrospect about this performance was its venue, the Helen Hayes Theatre, demolished in 1982 along with four other theatres to make way for the Marriott Marquis Hotel and the Marquis Theatre. – at the Helen Hayes Theatre, New York

Death of a Theatre: When the theatre at 210 W. 46th Street opened in 1911, it was called the Folies Bergère, intended to be a dinner theatre. When that failed, it was renamed the Fulton Theatre. In 1955, it was renamed the Helen Hayes in honor of "The First Lady of the American theatre." A two-balcony house seating 1,160, the Hayes housed both plays and a few smaller-scale musicals. One of its longest-running shows was Jean Kerr's Mary, Mary. In 1982, the Hayes, along with the Morosco, Gaiety, Bijou, and Astor Theatres, fell victim to Mayor Ed Koch's plan to clean up Times Square and the theatre district, giving the okay to hotelier John C. Portman, Jr. to construct a huge new hotel on Broadway. Only problem was the location was already occupied by five theatres. Even though the Morosco and the Hayes were both deemed eligible for the National Register of Historic Places, the demolition of the theatres began in 1982. Demolition was briefly halted by a temporary injunction, but that was overturned, and the "Great Theatre Massacre of 1982" was the result. As part of the deal cementing the five theatres' fate, the Portmans agreed to build a theatre within their hotel structure. True to their word, the Marquis Theatre opened in 1986, a handsome 1,611 venue that has become a sought-after venue for musicals. All Broadway houses are now on the National Register, preventing, hopefully, another theatre massacre. It's a sad coda that the final production to play at the Hayes was a one-performance flop by Oliver Hailey called I Won't Dance. The former Little Theatre on West 44th was renamed the Helen Hayes Theatre in 1983, then simply the Hayes Theatre in 2018. The Hayes is the smallest house on Broadway.

The Helen Hayes. When I saw Crucifer, the First Balcony was the Mezzanine and the Second Balcony was the Balcony. 

 Stately and beautiful.

This just breaks my heart. The Helen Hayes in its final moments. Sad, sad, sad.

And on that final dramatic and sad image…. It's still not safe out there. Stay at home! Social distancing is your friend!

© 2020 Jeffrey Geddes

ALPHABET SOUP (10) - FEATURING A RANDOM LETTER OF THE ALPHABET AND SOME SHOWS THAT BEGIN WITH THAT LETTER (C)

ALPHABET SOUP (10)

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

C

The blue London coffee mug gave up the letter "C," and the first few programs in the "C" stack represent a wide variety of shows: including an underappreciated and totally charming musical; a slight, but wildly entertaining piece of fluff from Kander and Ebb; a classic, not-often-revived Inge play, and it's all but unheard of musical version; a beloved, but bloated musical favorite; an inventive all-singing, all-dancing delight of Gershwin tunes; and, finally, a thoroughly mediocre musical made magical by its legendary leading lady.

This is going to be one of the longer posts, so let's begin….

A CATERED AFFAIR

 – Walter Kerr Theatre, New York

March, 2008. Fourth preview. A quiet, emotionally charged musical that was sadly underrated and unappreciated by the critics.  Beautiful performances by all involved, but special kudos to Prince for her raw and shattering performance as a woman whose life wasn't what she had hoped it would be. Based on the The Catered Affair by Gore Vidal, which in turn was based on an original teleplay by Paddy Chayefsky, this small-scale musical, in an intimate production sensitively directed by John Doyle, wasn't afraid to be quiet, wasn't afraid to be totally silent, wasn't afraid to let its very human characters let their emotions and their disappointments rage when called for. Tom Wopat's "I Stayed" neatly summarized his character is a powerful musical soliloquy; Faith Prince's "Vision" was a rare and touching moment of happiness, even if imaginary, in this woman's life; Harvey Fierstein's "Immediate Family" gave reign to all the bitterness and anger stored up in a man whose life, by Eisenhower-era necessity, was lived in the shadows. This wasn't a happy show, but it was truthful, and the bittersweet, yet hopeful ending brought this gem to a satisfying conclusion. The audience was spellbound. So were we. The show deserved a longer run. – at the Walter Kerr Theatre, New York

Sidebar: The critical community in New York pretty much hated A Catered Affair, including the all-important New York Times. I'm not sure what show these folks all saw, but it wasn't the one I saw in previews. And that's the beauty of previews. You, as an audience member, can form your own opinions without any preconceived critical notions or opinions from a critic or blogger. This is why I honestly prefer going to previews and why I rarely read reviews anymore, and when I do, I use them simply as a reference point. Sorry, Ben Brantley, but your approval or disapproval doesn't sway me one way or the other. I just don't care what critics/bloggers think. If I liked the show, I liked the show. If I didn't, I didn't. Full stop. A reviewer is not going to change my opinion. A Catered Affair struggled to find an audience and closed after only 116 performances. Such a shame.

– Stage 773, Chicago

February, 2012. Porchlight Theatre's production of A Catered Affair was one of Porchlight's better productions, largely free from glaring community theatre performances that can haunt their productions, and one that surprisingly made the performance-unfriendly The Thrust space relatively intimate. Nick Bowling's direction was effective, if largely giving short shrift to the audience seated on the sides. (We wisely sat in the center section, so we didn't have any sight problems.) The production's two Equity actors, Rebecca Finnegan and Craig Spidle, played the Faith Prince and Tom Wopat roles with dignity and emotional honesty. The audience liked Jerry O'Boyle's Winston, but he went for the obvious and was often too loud, missing the subtlety that Harvey Fierstein brought to the role. The rest of the cast, while sometimes uneven in acting ability, added appropriate flavor. I liked the performance, but the magic that the New York production had was missing here for whatever reason. Still, overall, it was well-worth seeing. – at Stage 773, Chicago

CURTAINS – Hirschfeld Theatre, New York

 May, 2007. Officially the last musical written by the legendary team of John Kander and Fred Ebb, Curtains was pure entertainment, often wickedly funny, with great tunes, a showstopping first act production number, and a cast of theatre A-listers who, individually and collectively, were a treat. Set in Boston's Colonial Theatre in 1959 during a disastrous out-of-town tryout of the musical, Robbin' Hood!, the plot revolved around backstage murders, backstabbing theatre creatives, and the musical theatre aficionado Boston PD detective assigned to the case. Pure nonsense, of course, but, oh, my God, what fun! David Hyde Pierce won the Tony for his portrayal of the detective, and he was very good in the part...warm, personable, a joy to watch. But it was the awesome Debra Monk who stole the show as the hard-boiled producer with a performance that was a master class in how to effortlessly stop a show, which she did in her big Act Two number, "It's a Business." Another favorite, Karen Ziemba, danced up a storm in the sensational "Thataway!" Rounding out the supporting cast were the velvet-voiced Jason Danieley, the droll Edward Hibbert and the lovely Jill Paice as Hyde Pierce's sort-of love interest, with yeoman support from John Bolton, Michael X. Martin, Michael McCormick, Noah Racey, Ernie Sabella, and Megan Sikora. Beautifully designed, the producers weren't stingy with the checkbook, Scott Ellis and Rob Ashford kept the action moving, and the audience left the theatre smiling. If you take a hard, critical look at it, it's no great shakes as a musical, but so much talent was on display at the Hirschfeld, and the desire to give everyone in the audience a good time was so strong, you couldn't help but love the show. – at the Hirschfeld Theatre, New York.

Sidebar: With decidedly mixed reviews, the show ran just over a year and, although recoupment status wasn't provided by the producers at the time of its closing, that very omission pretty much indicates the show didn't make its money back. A shame, too. Although he is popular and much-loved in the theatre community, David Hyde Pierce's Tony win was somewhat controversial, with many people strongly believing the award should have gone to Raúl Esparza for his role in a revival of Company. Esparza's performance certainly had more nuance and depth, but Hyde Pierce's performance overall was more accessible.

COME BACK, LITTLE SHEBA – Biltmore Theatre, New York

February, 2008. Any doubts one may have had about S. Epatha Merkerson's acting abilities, largely confined as they were to the small screen in TV's iconic Law & Order, were smartly and quickly dispelled as her devastating portrayal of Lola Delaney, a woman living a life of quiet desperation and to-the-bone disappointment unfolded in the Manhattan Theatre Club's first-class production of William Inge's rarely-done classic, Come Back, Little Sheba. Kevin Anderson's performance as Doc Delaney echoed the frustration and loss of a once-promising life, and his descent back into alcoholism was terrifying. The design elements by James Noone (scenic), Jennifer von Mayrhauser (costumes), and Jane Cox (lighting) all worked to create a claustrophobic, life-sucking environment. Michael Pressman's direction was neat and tidy. Once often spoken of in the same breath as Arthur Miller and Tennessee Williams, Inge's work today hasn't aged particularly well, and Come Back, Little Sheba, even in this terrific production, couldn't completely escape the occasional whiff of watching a museum piece. Mere quibbles, however, when Ms. Merkerson was onstage. Whether chattering non-stop to anyone who stopped by in an attempt to alleviate her crushing loneliness, or being still and quiet, yet somehow conveying the depths of her despair, she was magnificent. The was not an especially happy evening, but so rewarding. – at the Biltmore Theatre, New York

SHEBA – First Chicago Center, Chicago

August, 1974. Final performance. Why anyone would want to make a musical out of Inge's sad, desolate play, Come Back, Little Sheba, is anyone's guess. Perhaps a Stephen Sondheim score could have made a compelling reason, but as written by Lee Goldsmith and Clint Ballard, Jr., it came off as a showcase for the multi-talented Kay(e) Ballard, pleasant and professional to look at and listen to, but, despite all of Ballard's considerable skills, eminently forgettable. Broadway vet George D. Wallace was boxed with an also starring billing as Doc with supporting performances by Kimberly Farr and a pre-WKRP in Cincinnati Gary Sandy. The Chicago Tribune's William Leonard liked it, but Sheba apparently did not get either the press or the buzz it needed to move on and it closed after the Chicago tryout. – at the First Chicago Center, Chicago

Sidebar: Sheba would resurface in Westport, Connecticut, in 2001 in a four-performance, fully-staged Equity production starring Donna McKechnie as Lola. A recording was made of this production by Original Cast Records as Come Back, Little Sheba. (A "private" reel-to-reel recording of the Ballard Sheba  was made at the final performance. It may or may not still exist in his private collection. No, I did not make the recording!) The First Chicago Center, where Sheba played its tryout, was, in reality, the First National Bank of Chicago's auditorium. For a relatively brief period, it was marketed as an intimate alternative to the big Loop houses. It was a nice space, but not really suitable for live theatre. I believe this was its last theatrical booking. Sheba remains all but unknown and forgotten.

CAMELOT – Arie Crown Theatre, Chicago

September, 1980. Fresh from its summer run at Lincoln Center, the National Tour of Lerner and Loewe's beloved Camelot, starring its legendary original star, Richard Burton, began its road travels at the monstrosity known as the Arie Crown Theatre. From the far reaches of the Arie Crown's balcony (Row S!), we could see and hear everything, but everyone was, well, small, and, from that distance, everything looked, well, on the cheap side. Would it be heresy to say that Paxton Whitehead's King Pellinore was the high point of the evening? It might be heresy to say that Mr. Burton's Arthur, despite that singular voice, was subdued to the point of dullness, but that was the case here. He looked tired; he looked, frankly, ill. (In fact, Burton would leave the show six months later due to poor health.) A young Christine Ebersole was a slightly saucy, beautifully sung Guenevere; Richard Muenz was a handsome Lancelot; Robert Fox was an appropriately snarky Mordred. Yes, I know everyone loves Camelot, but here's the thing…the heart of the show is the intimate story of three people, Arthur, Guenevere, and Lancelot, but the creators bloated it out of proportion and added all this really unnecessary pomp and circumstance. The simple story drowns in costumes, sets, and extraneous characters. It may have been visually stunning in the 1960 original, but at Arie Crown it looked, like too much of the show, a bit lifeless and disappointingly cheesy. I really wanted to like it. I didn't. I enjoyed it (the score, after all, is a marvel), but I didn't like it. I was in the minority here, however. The capacity audience ate it up. – at Arie Crown Theatre, Chicago

CRAZY FOR YOU – Shubert Theatre, New York

August, 1994. Crazy for You, a revamp of the 1930 chestnut, Girl Crazy, was a leave-your-brains-at-the-door evening of pure entertainment which starred a cornucopia of delicious songs by George and Ira Gershwin, with all of it wrapped up with a big, cheerful bow courtesy of director Mike Ockrent and his wife, choreographer, and now director, Susan Stroman. The plot had something to do with a foreclosure on a theatre in someplace called Deadrock, Nevada, but if you were trying to actually follow the plot, you were thinking far too hard. Starring Harry Groener and Karen Ziemba, both charm-to-the-hilt, this piece of fluff purred like a contented cat. Carleton Carpenter, Jane Connell, and Bruce Adler were on hand to provide some textbook scenery chewing. This was my introduction to Karen Ziemba and I've been a fan ever since. I'll pretty much see her in anything. Also in the cast was Beth Leavel, the original Drowsy Chaperone. Lend Me a Tenor's Ken Ludwig provided the book, such as it was. Beautifully designed and lovingly played by the pit orchestra, this was escapism of the highest quality. Stroman would win her first of five Tony Awards with this production. Crazy for You would, surprisingly, win the Tony for Best Musical over the arguably better Falsettos, which took the prizes for Book and Score. I had a grand time, but felt at the time, and still do for that matter, that My One and Only is the better "new" Gershwin show. – at the Shubert Theatre, New York

COCO – Civic Opera House, Chicago

No, it's not a good show, but it starred Hepburn!

January, 1971. To probably no one's surprise, Coco, the Alan Jay Lerner and André Previn musical nominally about designer Coco Chanel, but really all about its star, Katharine Hepburn, closed quickly after Hepburn left the show and was replaced by an authentic Frenchwoman, Danielle Darrieux. No reflection on Ms. Darrieux's talents. After all, she'd been a star for four decades by 1971. It was just that Coco was, and is, a truly mediocre show and it needs a force of nature, like Hepburn, to make it work as well as it does. Coco closed at a loss on Broadway, so Hepburn, old-school trouper that she was, agreed to tour with the show until it made back its costs. (By the end of the tour, the show not only broke even, but also showed a modest profit.) The Civic Opera House is not an ideal place to see a musical, but the sumptuous sets and costumes by Cecil Beaton looked splendid in the Art Deco auditorium. Hepburn was no more Coco Chanel than I am, but she owned that stage and her audience. She made Lerner's rather lame book crackle with humor and she managed to give Previn's mundane score some talk-singing flair. She even danced a bit. As far as the audience was concerned, she could do no wrong. George Rose and Jeanne Arnold were on hand to recreate their Broadway roles and provide some first-rate support. Don Chastain and Lana Shaw played the rather boring love interests. Pre-The Nanny Daniel Davis stereotypically minced his way through the insufferable and, frankly, offensive role of the jealous gay assistant. It was a rare lapse of taste in a tasteful show. Chicago embraced Ms. Hepburn. Her show? Not so much. – at the Civic Opera House, Chicago.

Sidebar: Coco was the first show I saw on Broadway. I saw Hepburn's penultimate performance at the Mark Hellinger in August, 1970. Thrilling. Coco opened on Broadway in 1969. Stonewall had occurred only months before. Later in the 1969-1970 season, Applause would open. It would also feature a gay character. In Applause's case, the character was still a stereotype (a hairdresser), but was presented with humor and affection and, as a young gay man, I found it exciting to see "us" in a major role. Co-star George Rose would go on to win two Tony Awards for Best Actor in a Musical. He was murdered in 1988 in the Dominican Republic by his adopted son, his son's biological father and uncle, and a friend of the father. All four spent time in prison, but no trial was held and they've all been since released. Post-The Nanny Daniel Davis would essay another gay role, Georges, in a 2004 revival of La Cage aux Folles. He would be fired abruptly from the role following a Sunday matinee on account of obnoxious and abusive behavior backstage towards cast and crew. The producers paid Davis to the end of his contract and he was replaced by Robert Goulet. And if anyone doubts that Coco is less than brilliant, there's a short audio YouTube clip of Ginger Rogers in a production at the old Valley Forge Music Fair. It's all rather grim.

And on that note… Until next time…

© 2016 Jeffrey Geddes