LET'S START AT THE VERY BEGINNING – Episode 3

LET'S START AT THE VERY BEGINNING – Episode 3

(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…"

Today it's the "B" programs' turn:  a slight comedy about young love by Leonard Gershe; a Broadway financial miss about babies, parenthood, and life choices which enjoyed a six-month run in suburban Lincolnshire; a one-woman show starring the incomparable Julie Harris; a laugh-yourself-silly sex farce, two productions of the light-as-air musical that introduced Julie Andrews to Broadway; a monstrously entertaining musicalization of one of my favorite films. Bevvy ready? Let's begin.

BUTTERFLIES ARE FREE – Studebaker Theatre, Chicago

Got this at the theatre.

'

Kipp Osborne had replaced Wendell Burton by the time I saw the show in September.

September, 1970. A recent reread of the play revealed a slight play with broadly drawn characters that wasted every opportunity in the script to be meaningful, or at the very least, more than just sitcom shallow. In 1970, however, I had a completely different opinion. I had turned twenty two weeks earlier, had been to New York for the first time only six weeks earlier, and was still developing my critical faculties. I thought this play about a cute, very cute, blind boy who falls in love, or at least sleeps with, his "kooky" next-door neighbor, and his controlling mom from Scarsdale was funny and moving. Eve Arden, making her overdue entrance at the very end of Act One, played the controlling mom, and, well, she was pretty damn wonderful. Playing a basically unsympathetic character, she found the humor and humanity in Mrs. Baker and turned in a performance that pleased the opening night critics and certainly pleased her audience at the Studebaker. Kipp Osborne as the cute, very cute, blind boy was adorable, and I developed an instant crush. Hey! I was twenty! Cut me some slack! Ellen Endicott-Jones, as the "kooky" next-door neighbor, and Tom Fuccello, as a pretentious theatre director, rounded out the cast. I thought everything was charming. I suspect it would be painful to sit through today. – at the Studebaker Theatre, Chicago

Butterflies Tidbits: Butterflies Are Free played an impressive 1128 performances on Broadway, opening in October, 1969 and closing in July, 1972. It won a Tony Award for Blythe Danner as the next-door neighbor, and the film version would net Eileen Heckart, as Mrs. Baker, a Supporting Actress Oscar in 1973. For a time, the play was all the rage. Everyone did it, including Waukegan Community Players. Butterflies Are Free would occupy the Studebaker for fifteen weeks, with Gloria Swanson (!!) taking over from Eve Arden for the last two weeks, and continuing with the tour. 

The play is pretty much forgotten today, a once-hot property hopelessly connected to its time. According to its licensor, Samuel French, only three productions are scheduled in North America for the near future. (Actually, I'm surprised there are that many.)

BABY – Marriott's Lincolnshire Theatre, Lincolnshire, IL

October, 1986. Baby has a multitude of fans. I am not among them. A financial failure in its brief 1983 Broadway run, it opened in 1986 at Marriott's in-the-round theatre in suburban Lincolnshire under the direction of its original director, lyricist Richard Maltby, Jr., wowed the critics (Chicago Tribune critic Richard Christiansen opened his review with, "Don't you dare miss Baby."), and ran for a staggering six months. Maybe I missed something. Seeing the show during its last few weeks, I found it uninvolving, whiny, and annoying. I just didn't care about these couples, and the insinuation that your life wasn't complete without a baby was more than a bit presumptuous. The cast was fine. They worked hard. The Maltby/David Shire score had its moments, including the big, belty, goes-on-too-long "The Story Goes On," which became an audition favorite. Completely heterosexual, I don't think it would play especially well in this era of blended families and same-sex families, and adoption was apparently never an option for these people. I was very glad when it ended. – at Marriott's Lincolnshire Theatre, Lincolnshire, IL

THE BELLE OF AMHERST – Studebaker Theatre, Chicago

THE BELLE OF AMHERST – Studebaker Theatre, Chicago

March, 1976. Tryout. I must confess that I just don't get poetry. I read it and it's all a jumble to me. Someone reads it aloud, and my ears shut down. My brain and ears simply can't or don't want to process it. It's really the same with Shakespeare. The minute someone starts doing something Shakespearean, my brain, and ears, turn off. I know. Shocking, especially from a Theatre major/English minor, but there you have it. So going into the Studebaker, I really had very little knowledge or exposure to the play's subject, the esteemed poet Emity Dickinson. For me, the draw for this one-woman show was the incomparable Julie Harris, playing the beloved poetess, and smart folks beat tracks to see Julie Harris. Linda Winer of the Chicago Tribune found the show merely "pleasant" and decried the superficiality of the evening overall and the generous skirting around the documented facts in Dickinson's admittedly unusual life. She even went so far as to say "If I may add one more presumption to an evening full of them, I think Dickinson would have left at the intermission." Wow. Harsh. Sorry, Ms. Winer, but I loved the performance. Like I said before, the reason for my being there was Julie Harris, and Harris did not disappoint. She was charming, she was succinct, she commanded the stage with that ease that genuine stars possess. On the stunning set by H.R. Poindexter, she was the effortless and vibrant hostess, and we were her lucky guests. I was exposed to more Dickinson poems than I'd been exposed to before or since, for that matter, and with Harris doing the reciting, my brain and ears paid attention. I was enchanted. The packed house was as well. – at the Studebaker Theatre, Chicago

Julie Notes: Julie Harris was a versatile, always-working and in-demand actor, winning five Tony Awards and three Emmy Awards, appearing in countless Broadway productions in addition to her many contributions in television and film (The Member of the Wedding, I Am a Camera, East of Eden, Hamlet, The Haunting and many more). Her sole foray into musical theatre was in 1965's Skyscraper, where she demonstrated a limited voice that somehow managed to put across her numbers. She appeared in both hits (Forty Carats, A Shot in the Dark, I Am a Camera, The Member of the Wedding, And Miss Reardon Drinks a Little) and flops (Voices, Break a Leg, Lucifer's Child). One of her five Tony Awards was for her portrayal of Emily Dickinson in The Belle of Amherst.

BOEING-BOEING – Longacre Theatre, New York

May, 2008. Not a microphone in sight and very few missed words. And I was in the last row of the orchestra. Kudos to the cast!  No easy task in this 20,000-words-per-minute deliciously irreverent and delightfully politically-incorrect sex farce. This play about an American playboy in Paris keeping a stable of three "air hostesses" during Paris layovers requires pitch-perfect staging and, possibly even more importantly, pitch-perfect acting. With one surprising exception, Boeing-Boeing ticked all the right boxes. Matthew Warchus kept everything jetting along at jet stream speed. Gina Gershon, playing an Alitalia hostess, Kathryn Hahn, playing a TWA hostess, and especially Mary McCormack, both terrifying and divine as a Lufthansa hostess, were all wonderfully stereotypical and hilarious, but also added just the right amount of substance to keep them from becoming cartoons. Bradley Whitford demonstrated surprising comic chops as the frazzled Paris playboy trying to keep his harem from discovering each other. Mark Rylance, who would win a well-deserved Tony for his performance as Whitford's BFF from Wisconsin, and his inspired lunacy kept the packed house at the Longacre in paroxysms of laughter. The one exception mentioned earlier was Christine Baranski's muddy performance as the household French maid. She got her share of laughs, but it often seemed forced, and I believe the thick French accent got in the way of her usual impeccable timing. The choreographed curtain call courtesy of Kathleen Marshall kept the fun going right up to the very last minute. At about 2 hours 45 minutes, the show could use a trim of about fifteen minutes and, typically for farces, the setup was a bit slow, but neither is a bad tradeoff for an evening of unrelenting glee. I loved it. – at the Longacre Theatre, New York

Gina, Kathryn, and Mary: I want to give another round of applause for the three ladies who graced the Longacre stage as Bernard's girlfriends. I am a huge fan of Gina Gershon. In my opinion, she was the finest Sally Bowles I've seen. Plus she starred in Showgirls, and let's all admit it, who isn't a fan of that awful, yet wonderfully entertaining,  film. I'll see her in anything. Kathryn Hahn was a glory to behold when she erupted upon suspecting that Bernard was not hers alone. And what can I say about Mary McCormack's dominatrix-inspired Teutonic treasure as Gretchen, the Lufthansa girl? The audience laughed with delight every time she marched across the stage like someone who'd just as soon eat you as look at you. And who didn't enjoy her in In Plain Sight? Brava, ladies, brava!

THE BOY FRIEND

 – Studebaker Theatre, Chicago

November, 1970. In September, 1954, Julie Andrews made her Broadway debut in The Boy Friend, a silly, tuneful, affectionate spoof of Roaring 20s musicals, with book, music, and lyrics by Sandy Wilson. She played an English schoolgirl at a French finishing school. Her next Broadway role would be as an English flower girl in a little musical called My Fair Lady. And the rest, as they say, is history. In 1970, The Boy Friend made a return to Broadway, this time starring Judy Carne in the Julie Andrews role, best known back then as Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In's "sock-it-to-me" girl. Widely dismissed by the critics, it would close after a short, unprofitable run. The physical production and some of the original cast would soldier on in a tour of the show, starring Tony winner and popular singer, Anna Maria Alberghetti. Alberghetti sang well, though seemed a bit too old to be playing a young girl just out of her teens. Priscilla Lopez as Maisie stole the show with her energy and dancing prowess. She would go on later to become the original Diana Morales in A Chorus Line and introduce "What I Did for Love," and a few years later would win a Tony Award for A Day in Hollywood/A Night in the Ukraine. I love the music, so I was pretty much a happy camper, but William Leonard of the Chicago Tribune was less than enthusiastic and felt the production was heavy-handed, killing the gentleness of the show. Whatever. I had a good time. – at the Studebaker Theatre, Chicago

Tidbits: My ticket stub says I was at the penultimate performance of the tour. The show was originally scheduled for a five-week run in Chicago. It lasted two. As early as that Monday, it was advertising running through November 28. On Tuesday, November 3, the following short notice appeared in the Chicago Tribune offering no reasons, just the basic facts:

The Broadway show ended in July, so the tour was very short indeed, and I'm sure very unprofitable.  In 1971, director Ken Russell would direct a film version based on the musical, starring Twiggy, Tommy Tune, and Christopher Gable. It was an odd film, not quite The Boy Friend, yet not quite not The Boy Friend. I'm rather fond of it.

– Chicago Theatre, Chicago

November, 2005. Thirty-five years after The Boy Friend played its abbreviated run at Chicago's Studebaker Theatre, the show returned to Chicago in a Broadway-bound (??...it was never quite made clear about the show's intentions) production of the show, this time directed by its legendary original star, Julie Andrews. Now, Ms. Andrews is one of the truly great entertainers of our times, but, sadly, her talents do not extend to her directorial skills, if the DOA production that arrived at the Chicago Theatre was any indication. This was just an unfortunate train wreck from start to finish. There was no style, no attempt at either playing the fluff honestly or playing it with broad, ironic winks. Even the score, of which I am a huge fan, didn't seem as sparkly and fun. A shame, too, since this was somewhat of a family affair. This particular staging started out at the Bay Street Theatre in Sag Harbor, NY, where Andrews' daughter, Emma Walton, was a Director of Education and Programming for Young Audiences at the time, and Andrews' ex-husband and Emma's father, Oscar, Tony, and Emmy Award-winning designer, Tony Walton, designed the sets and costumes. For whatever reason, however, this show, which should be lighter than air, remained firmly on the ground. It looked cheap, like an underfunded bus-and-truck tour. It never connected with its audience. It was flat and uninteresting. Its venue, the 3600 seat Chicago Theatre, was far too large for this musical. The Wednesday night audience was very sparse, with many, many completely empty rows of seats on the Chicago's massive main floor. We were in the 10th row center, and there were empty seats in our row. The audience response was merely polite, the production lost a number of folks at the interval, and it was all just sad. – at the Chicago Theatre, Chicago

BEETLEJUICE – Winter Garden Theatre, New York

September, 2019. You'd never know that Dana Steingold was filling in for the usual actor in the key role of Lydia. She was that good. Alex Brightman took on the iconic title character and made it his own in a hysterical performance. Leslie Kritzer was deliciously over-the-top as Delia. Adam Dannheisser was a stalwart Charles. New cast member David Josefsberg and always-good Kerry Butler were endearing as Adam and Barbara. The book and score got the job done with style and professionalism, but it was the set and all the other tech goodies that gave the show its atmospheric pizzazz. Faithful to the film, one of my favorites, there were moments when the show slowed down and actually was, dare I say it?, touching. Sixth row center seats courtesy of TKTS. Sadly many empty seats in the orchestra for the Wednesday matinee. Pure entertainment. We smiled and laughed and applauded…a lot. We had a blast. – at  the Winter Garden Theatre, New York

RIP Beetlejuice: A steady box office earner, Beetlejuice built up steam slowly, but consistently, until it was selling out, or close to it, during its final months. It had been originally scheduled to close on June 6, 2020 to make way for a fall production of The Music Man. Theatre websites lit up with indignation. Why did Beetlejuice have to lose its theatre and close? Why couldn't the producers of The Music Man find another theatre? The "official" excuse given was that the show dipped below its "stop clause" early in the run, and the Shuberts, owner of the Winter Garden, used that as its reason. Total bullshit. In my opinion, the real reason is this: the Winter Garden is prime property. It has a large orchestra section, where loads of overpriced "premium" seats can be sold. It has a very high-priced leading man. It will cost a lot to produce and a lot to keep it running every week. The show can make more money at the Winter Garden than at a lot of other theatres. And that's important, since once the two leads, Hugh Jackman and, to a lesser extent, Sutton Foster, leave the show, one can safely assume the box office will suffer. So it's all about money. It's always about money. It's all about producer greed. Always. Then COVID-19 hit, Broadway shut down, and when the closure was extended to June 7, the day after Beetlejuice's announced closing, the producers officially closed the show. So sad, since Beetlejuice didn't try to be anything except a show that would give its audience a grand time. It was slick, it was funny, it was tuneful, it was professional, and I loved it and talked it up to everyone.There have been rumors that the show could reopen at another theatre once Broadway reopens for business, but I wouldn't hold my breath. Remember, it's all about money. It's all about producer greed. Always.

That's it for now. Stay at home! Social distancing! Be safe!

© 2020 Jeffrey Geddes

MUSICAL MAYHEM: MY TOP TWENTY-FIVE MUSICALS – Part 15b: THE TOP TEN – #4

MUSICAL MAYHEM: MY TOP TWENTY-FIVE MUSICALS – Part 15b

THE TOP TEN – #4

NOTE: Due to the length of this entry, I'm dividing it into two parts. This is part two of two.

REVIVAL: 1998

CABARET REDUX

 

In 1998, "inspired by" (IBDB.com's words) the 1993 Donmar Warehouse production, the superb Roundabout Theatre Company opened a brilliant, radically revised, thrillingly reconceived and staged production of Cabaret that paid homage to the iconic original while at the same time gave the property a makeover from top to bottom. As directed by Sam Mendes and Rob Marshall with choreography by Marshall, this was a sleazier, dirtier, far sexier Cabaret, stripped of the traditional trappings of realistic sets and fourth wall conventionality. Almost against your will, you were drawn into this world of decadence and decay, but the cheerfully immoral Emcee was so sexy and carefree and inviting, it was hard to resist him…and you didn't. At its core, the story is the same. It's still about two couples, Cliff and Sally and Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz, in 1930 Berlin. But where in the original there was a definite divide between the book scenes and the cabaret numbers, in this version, the lines blurred and not always successfully. I never liked the Emcee being inserted into "It Couldn't Please Me More" by holding up a pineapple. I thought having one of the girls, Fritzie, who also played Kost, sing a large portion of "Married" in German was a mistake. In both instances, it took the focus away from the characters the focus should have been on, Schneider and Schultz. The buttoned-up heterosexuality of the original was blown to smithereens with the new sexual fluidity pervading throughout this version. Boys kissed boys (!!). The Emcee played with anyone. Cliff was no longer a straight boy, giving the Cliff/Sally relationship a new dynamic. Instead of the Kit Kat Klub Kittens and a pit orchestra, an onstage group of über-talented actor-musicians formed the orchestra and were an intergral part of the action. Adding "I Don't Care Much," cut from the original production during tryouts, was just what was needed at the point near the end of the show when Cliff and Sally have their final fight. Not everything, however, was an improvement. The film's "Mein Herr" replaced "The Telephone Song." It's a great song, but two solos by Sally within a few minutes came off as two solos by Sally, didn't move the story forward, wasn't necessary, and "Don't Tell Mama" is the superior number anyhow. I hated the staging and use of a recording for "Tomorrow Belongs to Me." Replacing the gorgeous "Why Should I Wake Up?" with the film's "Maybe This Time," yet another solo for Sally, oddly staged within the Kit Kat Klub, not only robbed Cliff of his only solo, but, lyrically, seemed at odds with Sally's bohemian attitude. To be honest, the addition of the two Liza solos from the film added nothing to the show except time and both could be excised without any negative effect. And for the record, "Money," adapted from the film's "Money, Money," fits the vision of this revival, but I missed the over-the-top fun of "Sitting Pretty." The ending with the Emcee wearing a concentration camp uniform with a yellow star and pink triangle was inconsistent with the time frame unless the intent was to show what would happen in the near future. Time inaccuracy notwithstanding, it was powerful and unnerving. In this version, there was a push to elevate the Emcee from a supporting character to the male lead, but no matter how hard they tried, it's not the Emcee's story and he is not the lead. Perhaps surprisingly, in the 1998 Cabaret, Cliff now became the eyes and moral compass of the show. Interesting and it worked. At the 1998 Tony Awards, Cabaret picked up four Tony Awards, including Best Revival of a Musical.

– Studio 54, New York

Very light printing. We were in the front mezzanine for this performance which was modified table seating. Not the most comfortable and more than a bit cramped.

December, 1998. Tony winner Alan Cumming was out of the Sunday matinee. The initial disappointment lasted only until midway through the opening number because understudy Vance Avery was simply wowing the capacity audience with a sexy, decadent performance. He was outstanding. Full stop. Making her Broadway debut as Sally Bowles was film's Jennifer Jason Leigh. The critics dismissed her as being talented, but somewhat colorless. I thought she was sensational. There was a vulnerability, a cluelessness about her that I found appealing. Nothing was overstated. Her performance wasn't as obviously out there as Misses Hart and Cronyn were in the tours of the original production, and certainly not as big and SALLY as Minnelli in the film. She sang and danced with a simplicity that made you believe she was a third-rate performer working in a third-rate club. I loved her.  Ron Rifkin was on hand to show us why he won the Tony Award for his portrayal of Herr Schultz and Blair Brown brought a satisfying depth to Fraulein Schneider. Rounding out the principal cast were Michele Pawk (Fraulein Kost), Denis O'Hare (Ernst), and John Benjamin Hickey (Cliff), all talented pros giving exemplary performances. I was enthralled. – at Studio 54, New York

About Studio 54: The (in)famous Studio 54, actually started out as the Gallo Opera House, then became a CBS radio and television studio, and then, in the disco era became the most famous nightclub of its time, Studio 54, famed for music, drugs, and its celebrity clientele. Cabaret fit right in, though the table seating in the front mezzanine was less than ideally comfortable. In a more traditional theatre setting, Studio 54 is a comfortable venue seating about one thousand with a very large mezzanine that makes things seem a bit far away. We try to stick to the orchestra.

– Studio 54, New York

Terrific location. Really, really up close and personal.

 April, 2001. On a weekend trip to NYC with my friend Lois, we had seen Tom Stoppard's The Invention of Love that afternoon which, though brilliantly staged and acted, was a bit of a slog, especially after a champagne-heavy brunch before the matinee. To lighten things up, so to speak, we headed over to Studio 54 for the Sunday evening performance of Cabaret. Once again, Vance Avery was filling in as the Emcee, normally Matt McGrath, and, once again, he was superb. Carole Shelley was out as well, so stepping in as Fraulein Schneider was her standby, Maureen Moore, who was just so good, I can't imagine Shelley being any better. Scott Robertson (Herr Shultz), Matthew Greer (Cliff), Peter Benson (Ernst), and Candy Buckley (Fraulein Kost) were all spot-on. Top-billed Gina Gershon, so memorable in the terrifically awful film Showgirls, was the box-office lure as Sally Bowles. I was simply mad about her. Sexy as all get-out, yet with an  innocence, real or carefully cultivated for effect, she brought a new dimension to Sally. This Sally knew exactly what she was doing 100% of the time. Nothing Sally did was spontaneous, everything was for a reason, yet you didn't feel she was a user. Now that, my friends, takes talent. Sitting in the very front table on the stage right side of the stage, there were moments when I could reach up and touch her. I didn't dare. Her Sally would eat you alive, a side she would never reveal to Cliff until the end when her survival instincts took over and she became fierce and selfish. I loved her. To date she is my favorite Sally. Overall, this was the most satisfying performance of this version of the show. – at Studio 54, New York.

Hey! It Was For Charity: Twice a year, the theatre community bands together and collects funds for the wonderful Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS. As a charity, it has done tremendous work in the fight against AIDS, and I'm proud to be a frequent contributor. Prior to the start of the show, some Kit Kat Girls, Kit Kat Boys, and band members were soliciting contributions in exchange for a photo, a chaste kiss, well, you get the picture. Anyhow, since Lois and I were inches from the stage, one of Kit Kat Girls and a very hot band member, and he was holding his…instrument, a sax, I believe, came over to our table, and KKG said, "Would you like to spank me for $20 dollars?" And, I'm sure it was the drink I was enjoying that made me say this, but I smiled and replied, "No, thank you. I'd rather spank him!," pointing to the aforementioned very hot band member holding his instrument. Well, they both cracked up, and, yes, I spanked the very hot band member holding his instrument in front of one thousand people, thus making my Broadway debut, as it were. Hey…it was for a worthy cause, dammit! For the record, this sort of thing does not happen at Mean Girls!

– Studio 54, New York

All the table seating made for some nice atmosphere, but was cramped and seriously lacking in comfort. 

August, 2002. This time around John Stamos, Molly Ringwald, Polly Bergen, and Hal Linden were heading up the cast. Pros all, but somehow this particular cast didn't strike the emotional core of the show. All of them got there at the end, but it was a curiously unsatisfying show until the last few scenes. John Stamos as the Emcee was more John Stamos than Emcee for much of the evening, perhaps pandering a bit too much to his Full House fans who greeted his entrance with ecstatic applause. Once he got to "If You Could See Her" and "I Don't Care Much," he found his particular voice as the Emcee and was chillingly cold, yet still sexily appealing. Molly Ringwald's Sally was more The Breakfast Club than bawdy, decadent denizen of Berlin's louche nightlife society.  However, by the time she got to the title tune and the final confrontation with Cliff, she was so devastatingly defeated and so emotionally lost, you, as an audience member, felt her pain. Old, reliable veterans Polly Bergen and Hal Linden got better as the evening progressed, with Berger delivering a solid "What Would You Do?" This was not my favorite cast, but the show's final moments still gave me the chills. – at Studio 54, New York

– Lyric Theatre, London

January, 2008. Definitely not the 1966 original. Not even the 1998 revival, for that matter. Using the 1998 edition as its musical and dialogue blueprint, this production, directed by Rufus Norris, who directed the appallingly awful Festen a couple of years earlier, amped up the sleaze, the tawdriness, the sexiness of the piece to the max giving us a production that was decidedly down-market in approach, yet fascinating in execution. There was even some full-frontal male nudity. Didn't get that at Studio 54. Or the Shubert. Or Stroud. Some songs were shifted. The train scene between Ernst and Cliff was brilliantly incorporated into ”Willkommen." "Tomorrow Belongs to Me," which closed Act One, was sung while cast members facing upstage were shown naked in examples of Aryan physical perfection. And at the finale, the cast quietly stripped and huddled together upstage, naked and shivering in the falling snow of a Nazi concentration camp. And if you don't think that didn't pack the proverbial one-two punch, think again. Julian Clary, a huge star in the UK, played the Emcee with flair. Amy Nuttall (Sally), Brit favorites Angela Richards (Frl. Schneider) and Barry James (Herr Schultz), Steven Cree (Cliff), Michael Beckley (Ernst), and Valerie Cutko (Frl. Kost) provided excellent support. This was a cold show, virtually bereft of warmth, exceptions being the scenes between Schneider and Schultz, and was sometimes jarring, but it was never dull and more than occasionally brilliant. – at the Lyric Theatre, London

The Lyric's balcony is way, waaaayyyy up there! Thankfully we were in the Stalls. The Lyric is the oldest playhouse on Shaftesbury Avenue, opening in December, 1888!

– Marriott Theatre, Lincolnshire, IL

Cabaret is NOT about a bowler hat and a chair. STOP IT!

March, 2014. What I liked: the male ensemble's "Tomorrow Belongs to Me," the briefcase business during "The Money Song," the finale to Act One. What I didn't like: pretty much everything else. Sanitized and not at all sexy, it's unclear why Marriott chose to produce the 1998 Broadway revival since they excised all the edginess out of it. I suspect it had a great deal to do with being able to perform the revised 1998 song line-up inclusion of "Mein Herr," "Maybe This Time," and "I Don't Care Much," none of which were remarkable. Director David H. Bell delivered a muted, bland production with muddy choreography by Matt Raftery, uninteresting acting and indifferent singing. Nancy Missimi's costumes looked as though she pulled the stock from Marriott's Thoroughly Modern Millie and called it a day. There were no surprises, not a single "wow" moment and it was about as dangerous as a Disney movie. The most hysterical moment occurred early in the proceedings when Bobby and Cliff kissed. A gasp went through the audience. I'm serious. A gasp. Really? People, it's 2014! Geez! Everything was very professional, but very dull. A decided disappointment. - at the Marriott Theatre, Lincolnshire IL

– Studio 54, New York

March, 2014. Let me state right off that bat, that while I'm a huge fan of the 1966 original, I'm simply wild about this darker, sexier version, with the reservations noted at the top of this post. Having said that, however, what was a revelation at the Donmar Warehouse in London in 1993 and then in New York in 1998 now seems a bit tired. Bringing absolutely nothing new to the proceedings, this was a slavish replica of the original Roundabout production. Alan Cumming wasn't exactly phoning it in, but he wasn't exactly fresh either. Michelle Williams, in her Broadway debut, however, was a fine Sally and delivered a masterful interpretation of the title song. Linda Emond and Danny Burstein brought expected professionalism to their roles as Frl. Schneider and Herr Schultz and gave the show the humanity it generally lacked. It was all professionally done, but very, very slick and lacked any true excitement. And let's not even talk about the horror that was "It Couldn't Please Me More" that I must have mercifully blocked from my memory of other viewings of the show at Studio 54. Perhaps it was due to Cumming's heavy-handed performance, but overall, I wasn't terribly impressed. Full disclosure…the capacity audience screamed at everything Alan Cumming did and seemed to have a "perfectly marvelous" time. Obviously, Bob and I were in the minority. This was my least favorite of the versions I've seen at Studio 54. Ah, well. - at Studio 54, New York

Two versions. Both fascinating. Both breaking the rules. Both masterpieces. In 1966, Cabaret proved that musicals with serious themes and unhappy endings can be successful if written, designed, produced, staged, and directed by consummate pros. In 1998, Cabaret proved that a classic can still pack a considerable wallop when lovingly retooled for a new era. Joe Masteroff's revisions for the Roundabout incarnation make for a stronger, more interesting, more complex book. Kander and Ebb's score remains one of the best scores written for the stage. And both have two of the most amazing opening numbers in musical theatre. Totally different, but both so brilliantly conceived and executed, they rank in my top five opening numbers. Neither version is perfect. The original veers into standard musical comedy boy-girl romance by distancing itself from the Isherwood portrayal of Cliff and making him strictly hetero and more than a bit naïve, almost virginal. "Meeskite," despite good intentions, comes off as a bit cheesy, not up to the standards of the rest of the score. The revival desperately tries to force star status onto the supporting role of the Emcee, despite the fact that he has virtually no dialogue, except in conjunction with a musical number, and despite the addition of an additional song ("I Don't Care Much). This insistence on artificially making a role bigger than it actually is sometimes skews the focus of the show. The two film songs for Sally only add time and add nothing to either the plot or the character. Taking the best of both versions and combining them into a new, definitive version would be, well, pretty damn wonderful. No matter which version is your favorite, though, and all quibbles and bitches aside, Cabaret is a masterpiece. Full stop.

Group For... was the predecessor of Lake Forest's current CenterStage. In 1985, they produced Cabaret. My best friend Pat played Frl. Schneider. She was brilliant in the role, a performance full of nuance, emotion, power, and her magnificent voice. This was the part that brought her to the attention of a Chicago agent and, soon after, her Equity card. I dedicate the Cabaret blog posts to her memory. xo

"Meine Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen. Where are your troubles now? Forgotten? I told you so! We have no troubles here. Here life is beautiful. The girls are beautiful. Even the orchestra is beautiful…

Auf wiedersehen!/A bientot!"

<drum roll, cymbal crash, blackout>

© 2018 Jeffrey Geddes