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

OFF THE RAILS OR THEATRICAL TRAIN WRECKS Part Two

OFF THE RAILS OR THEATRICAL TRAIN WRECKS

Part Two

These next three shows all went off the rails in Chicago. I suspect a lot of folks won't agree with the second one featured today, but…

Go grab some coffee and let's get started.

THE KID FROM BROOKLYN – Mercury Theater, Chicago

June, 2008. This terrible, terrible waste of time purported to tell the story of Danny Kaye…womanizer, alleged homophobic closeted homosexual and abrasive performer. Instead of actually giving us a portrait of Danny Kaye, warts and all, since someone's "faults" often make that person more interesting, this endeavor played like a rabid fanboy's homage to his idol. To his credit, Kaye was very active in charitable organizations, but watching this, I got the impression that Kaye did nothing without first determining whether or not it would be good for his career. As portrayed here, Kaye's wife, Sylvia Fine, didn't appear to be much better. In Karin Leone's performance, she came off as a coldly shrewd and calculating woman, an impression not dissipated by Fine's hosting gigs for television specials in the 80s celebrating Broadway musicals, where she appeared distant, aloof, even a bit superior. Full disclosure, I know my opinion of this production is largely tempered by the fact that Danny Kaye gave the single most unprofessional and disrespectful performance I have seen to date when I had the great misfortune of seeing him in Two By Two after his accident, when all pretenses of character and honoring the material had been jettisoned. Credit where credit is due, the cast of four worked hard, especially Brian Childers as Kaye. But all that hard work was for naught. Judging by audience reaction at the performance I attended, the crowd either loved the show or hated it. Interval chatter was evenly split. The Chicago reviews were decidedly on the negative side. Of the ten shows that make up my list of theatrical train wrecks, this is the only one that was chosen solely on a visceral, emotional response. God, did I hate this show! – at the Mercury Theater, Chicago

Sidebar: Although inconceivable to me, a similarly-themed musical called Danny and Sylvia: The Danny Kaye Musical (in an earlier workshop incarnation it was called Danny and Sylvia: A Musical Love Story) opened off-Broadway about a year after the run of The Kid from Brooklyn. Although the producers of D and S were quick to tell prospective audiences not to be confused with TKFB, both shows starred Brian Childers, which leaves one to wonder if Danny Kaye is all that Mr. Childers has in his theatrical bag of tricks. On a reduced four-performance-per-week schedule and heavy on matinees, D and S ran for nearly three years. Really?

JEKYLL & HYDE – Shubert Theatre, Chicago

 

 Brad Oscar was in the cast. He'd go on to do far better things.

 This was the line-up in Chicago. It would be different by the time the show reached NYC.

"Eder is the Streisand of the 90's." Uh...well....

The New York marquee was striking.

January, 1996. Two sell-out engagements at Houston's Alley Theatre and a wildly popular concept album made up the hype that preceded this hugely-anticipated musical's arrival at the Shubert, midway through an unofficial, yet nobody was denying it, pre-Broadway tour. It opened. It received poor reviews. It played to adoring audiences. It was a mess. Starring Robert Cuccioli as Jekyll/Hyde and Linda Eder as prostitute-with-a-heart-of-gold Lucy Harris (paging Shirley MacLaine), then composer Frank Wildhorn's paramour, then wife, then ex-wife, the show musicalized Robert Lewis Stevenson's classic novella about split personalities and the good and evil that coexist in people, a theme that, on the surface seems, a natural for a Gothic, Victorian confection of a musical. Instead, however, creators Frank Wildhorn and Leslie Bricusse created a show that was a great, big, gooey, cheesy, pseudo-Gothic hot mess of a show with all the subtlety of a baseball bat to the head, enough power ballads to make Les Misérables blush, a plethora of swinging heads and bouncing hair (the means by which Mr. Cuccioli changed from the saintly Dr. Jekyll into the demonic Mr. Hyde, who was, frankly, by far the more interesting of the dual personalities), a sound system that was set on very LOUD, and a stultifyingly wooden performance by Linda Eder. Now let me state flat out that Mr. Cuccioli did his best, delivering a solid performance backed up by a good voice, and I suppose all that hair tossing was the only workable way to do the multiple personality switches called for in the script, but he was saddled with a dreary, pedestrian script and wasn't helped by a production that lacked inspiration from both director and choreographer.. As good girl Lisa Carew, soprano Christiane Noll, making her Broadway debut in this show and who would create, a decade later, a powerful Mother in the revival of Ragtime, was the only principal who created a character of nuance. Her Act Two duet with Ms. Eder, "In His Eyes," was the highlight of the evening and she easily stole the song and the stage from Linda Eder. So what specifically made this show a top-ten theatrical train wreck? Well, several things actually, but first let me state that I was sincerely looking forward to this show and was, up to then, somewhat of a fan of the concept album. Yes, the same overwrought power ballads, but one can adjust the volume in one's living room. And while all that overwrought-ness can work in a recording, on stage it all becomes too much. So that was working against the show. And then there was the matter of Ms. Eder's performance. Ms. Eder is a singer with a fiercely loyal and devoted fan base and a powerful set of pipes (I find her one-note...loud…, but I'm probably in the minority on that one.), but is woefully lacking in the acting department. Watching her dialogue scenes bordered on painful. I didn't care that she sang/bellowed/beat-to-a-bloody-pulp her songs and made them all sound alike. Blame Mr. Wildhorn for composing songs that all blend together. What I still can't overlook is that she was the lead in a Broadway-bound musical and simply didn't have the chops for it. I'm sure her relationship with Wildhorn played a part in the casting, but it didn't work with Andrew Lloyd Webber's then-wife Sarah Brightman in The Phantom of the Opera, and it didn't work here. A pretty and powerful voice alone is not a sound reason to cast someone, nor will it hide acting deficiencies. Why didn't the producers seek out an actress who can sing with the best of them? Karen Ziemba immediately comes to mind, and, even now, just thinking what she could have brought to that role, well, it makes me want to weep at the missed opportunity. The combination of cheesy production values, sound-alike music, hair-tossing, and terrible acting all came to a head in the penultimate scene. The action takes place in Lucy's digs, a bright, virginal white room and our Lucy is dressed in a bright, virginal white dress. Are we getting the symbolism here? The room is spotless. SPOTLESS. Eder brays out a power ballad where she longs for "A New Life." Pretty, and loud, but nothing we haven't heard throughout the evening. Cuccioli, in his flowing locks as Hyde, enters. Insipid dialogue ensues, then, cradling Lucy, he stabs her as the stage blood flows a deep red in this bright, virginal white environment. Stop it! Now! But the worst offense and the moment when the show entered the hallowed ranks of theatrical train wrecks, was the Act Two opener, "Murder, Murder," an ensemble number so terrible in execution that it actually elicited laughs. I came back from intermission for this? It ranks right up there with "Louis Says" from Victor/Victoria as one of the worst musical numbers ever. Lots of missed opportunities. I would love to see Sondheim or Jason Robert Brown tackle this story. – at the Shubert Theatre, Chicago

Sidebar: A year after the unofficial, yet nobody was denying it, pre-Broadway tour, Jekyll & Hyde, opened in New York at the Plymouth Theatre and ran for nearly four years. In the intervening time between Chicago and New York, the entire production and design staff had been replaced, songs dropped, shifted around and added, but the show still, as then, didn't meet with critical favor. That, however, didn't faze the audiences who flocked to the Plymouth, especially the "Jekkies," superfans of the show, the Jekyll & Hyde version of Deadheads, who were a fixture at the Plymouth. The show was filmed featuring the final cast starring, wait for it, David Hasselhof, out of his swim trunks and onto the stage, as Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde. Despite the long run and over 1500 performances, the original run closed at a substantial loss (roughly 25% according to Playbill.com). Linda Eder continues to this day to have a successful career as a singer, but, except for concert engagements, has not since acted on Broadway. Frank Wildhorn, after seven attempts, if one counts the 2013 revival of J&H, has yet to have a financial, or critical, success on the Great White Way, but he still slogs away at it. Having said all this, however, there's no need to cry for Mr. Wildhorn or Mr. Bricusse. The show has had numerous productions in the States and abroad and is popular with amateur and regional theatres. I'm sure by now the original run has more than paid back its investment.

********************

INTERVAL --- What was going on in Chicago Theatre in 1996.

The guy's hot enough to make me wish I'd seen it. Puck and Bottom, indeed!

Don't know how I missed this. The play is a great old chestnut and the cast certainly was starry enough.

How to Succeed was delightful. I would rather eat ground glass than see Jerry Lewis in anything.

********************

ODYSSEY – Arie Crown Theatre, Chicago

Oh, Joan! The eye makeup! Noooo! And, maybe it's just me, but Yul has this gay-boy-just-leaving-the-gym look. I should have known what was coming.

Any of these would have been better than Odyssey. Quite a variety of venues and plays/musicals going on. And, yes, starring in The Magic Man was that David Copperfield. Only 21 and smoking hot. Sadly, however, we must return to Odyssey.

May, 1975. Even the biggest stars and creative talents in the business can have their bad days. In the case of Odyssey, some of the business' biggest stars and creative talents had some really, really bad days. This horror of a show had music by Man of La Mancha's Mitch Leigh and book and lyrics by Erich ”Love Story" Segal. It was directed by La Mancha's director, Albert Marre and starred Marre's wife and La Mancha's original Aldonza, Joan Diener and, oh-my-GOD!!, the King himself, Yul Brynner. Well, suffice it to say that there was no "Impossible Dream" this time around and this intermissionless and interminable two-hour fright of a musical was as perfect an example of "what were they thinking?" that you could find. I think the idea was to convert Homer's epic poem "The Odyssey" into, and I quote the program here, "a new musical comedy." I'm sorry. I just don't think of Homer and immediately go, "Break out the tap shoes, Mickey and Judy! It's show time!!" The score, such as it was, was derivative, in the worst sense of the word; Erich Segal proved that not only could he not write fiction, he couldn't write lyrics or a musical libretto either (I so wanted to do a riff on "Love means never having to say you're sorry" here, but my mind did a complete blank.); Albert Marre's direction was pretty much non-existent; Joan Diener's deportment was that of a queen dispensing largesse to the peasants, though one couldn't deny the power of her famed voice; Yul Brynner acted as though he desperately wanted to break into a quick rendition of "A Puzzlement," etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. (see The King and I). Even talented Russ Thacker, there primarily, I think, for the sole purpose of providing eye candy, seemed lost at sea here, no pun intended. Playing at the gigantic Arie Crown Theatre, it played to huge crowds, thanks to Brynner, received negative reviews, thanks to a crappy show, and left me scratching my head in bewilderment. Truly an awful, awful show. Not bad enough to be one of the great legendary flops; just bad. Full stop.– at the Arie Crown Theatre, Chicago

Sidebar: At the end of Odyssey's year-long tour, it limped into the Palace Theatre in New York under its new name of Home Sweet Homer, where it opened on a Sunday matinee and promptly closed that same afternoon. By that time, Erich Segal was no longer associated with the show. Lucky him. The tour was full of strife, terrible reviews, missed performances by the leads and a general sense that somebody needed to say "Enough!" But nobody did. Man of La Mancha would prove to be Mitch Leigh's only success as a Broadway composer. (Not that he needed to ever again write another note, but still.) For the husband-and-wife team of Albert Marre and Joan Diener, La Mancha would be their final success, both individually and together. Both would revisit La Mancha in various productions and revivals. Yul Brynner would scamper happily back to playing the King in cross-country tours and in two hugely successful Broadway revivals of The King and I. Russ Thacker had a modestly successful career, but the Broadway portion of it was littered with quick-closing flops. Odyssey/Home Sweet Homer … lots of wasted time, talent and money.

Tune in next time for the last three shows of my top-ten theatrical train wrecks.

© 2015 Jeffrey Geddes

"B" SHOWS: The Underrated Gems

"B" SHOWS: The Underrated Gems

Back in the days of vinyl records (remember those?), and most especially in the case of 45s, there was an "A" side and a "B" side. Typically the "A" side was the song that the record company wanted promoted; the song that they hoped would become a hit. The "B" side was considered the secondary recording, the stepsibling, so to speak, of the "A" side. That isn't to say, however, that the "B" side songs were bad songs. Not at all. They simply were the other side of the record. I wonder how many of you only played the "A" side of a 45 until one day, either by accident or design, you played the "B" side and went, "Wow. That's pretty good! What a surprise!" I know I did. And according to Wikipedia, the monster hits "I Will Survive," "Maggie May," and "I'll Be Around" were originally the "B" sides to "Substitute," "How Could I Let You Get Away," and "Reason to Believe," respectively. Remember those great "A" side tunes? Me, neither.

Similarly in the movies, a "B" picture was originally the less publicized second film of a double feature. Often the production values were excellent with quality actors, but for whatever reason, just not commercial or good enough to get the full studio treatment. (Sidebar: "B" movies also referred to wonderfully cheesy horror movies and vanity projects that still often featured well-known actors and/or creatives.) Today, a direct-to-DVD film could be considered a "B" picture. A good example of a modern "B" movie would be the enjoyable, direct-to-DVD  "Unconditional Love" with Kathy Bates, Jonathan Pryce and Rupert Everett.

Unlike the film and recording industries, the theatre doesn't have a "B" category. Nowadays, the only categories that seem to exist are hit and flop with nothing to categorize the shows that fall in the middle. Ben Brantley, main theatre critic for the NY Times, uses three measurements: a thumbs up and a big smile for shows he likes, a thumbs down and a "bleh" frown for shows he doesn't and an "on the fence" for those he's ambivalent about. So what is a "B" play or musical? Since there's no official definition, let me give you mine. A "B" show, for the purposes of this blog, is a musical or play that for whatever reason just doesn't catch on. These shows may be written by newcomers, but often they have a good and/or proven pedigree. These shows usually, though not always,  receive mixed reviews, have a short(ish) run and, more often than not, close as financial failures. The reasons can involve something in the production itself that's the "fatal flaw" (often it involves the writing) or it simply could be a really decent work, but nothing out of the ordinary that would attract that all-important, for lack of a better term, tourist audience, especially with today's ticket prices. Offhand I can't think of a single playwright, lyricist or composer who doesn’t have at least one "B" show in their oeuvre. These shows are usually not the ones you immediately think of when the authors are named. For example, do you automatically think of Dear World when Jerry Herman is mentioned? Jule Styne wrote Gypsy, but he also wrote Do-Re-Mi. Harnick and Bock, those Fiddler guys? The Apple Tree. (Yes, I know, I know. I love the show and it had a run of over a year, but it still lost money and has enough flaws in its construction to merit "B" show status.)   What about the Cabaret duo of Kander and Ebb? The Happy Time.  Surely not Rodgers and Hammerstein. Yep. Allegro. And let's not forget the playwrights and their "B" shows. Arthur Miller has After the Fall; Edward Albee has Everything in the Garden; Tennessee Williams wrote the divinely "B" Suddenly Last Summer. Well, you get the drift. All of these shows featured top creative and performing talent. In a handful of cases, a "B" show has won the Tony Award (one to be discussed later). What I guess I'm trying to say is that the true "B" show and especially those I'll chat about, all have wonderful qualities, yet they all are missing that sometimes indefinable something that puts a play or musical into the "A" ranks. Before the costs of producing a show became so onerous with musicals costing in the double-digit millions and plays in the single-digit millions (compared to 1971's Follies which was, at the time, one of the most expensive shows produced on Broadway at just over $525,000 or, depending on the source, $675,000 or thereabouts), a "B" show could run the better part of a season and might even have an afterlife. Sadly, today's theatrical financial environment doesn't allow much wiggle room for a show that doesn't get critical approval (exceptions exist, of course, for those "critic-proof" shows like Wicked and Mamma Mia! that bring in the crowds despite critical ennui).The "B" show, while it still exists, is now typically just a blip on a Broadway season and we theatregoers are the worse for it. But for now, sit back and join me in celebrating some of my favorite "B" shows.

August & September, 1967. I love this quirky, muddled show. Talk about pedigree! Take a look at this: book and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner; score by Burton Lane; direction by Robert Lewis; musical staging by Herbert Ross; scenery by Oliver Smith; costumes by Freddy Wittop; lighting by Feder. And that was just the creative team. Heading up the original cast was Barbara Harris, John Cullum, William Daniels, Clifford David, Rae Allen and Tito Vandis. Now that's a damn impressive lineup all the way around. On a Clear Day has a terrific hook and the Lerner/Lane score should rank, if it already doesn't, as one of the finest in the musical theatre. But what it doesn't have is a consistently coherent book and plot and that's why this is perhaps the quintessential "B" show and not the "A" show it could have been. Lerner's take on reincarnation, past lives, psychological therapy, and how chain-smoking, psychic powers and gardening are all somehow and improbably related was often witty and engaging, but there were times when it all just fell apart. It closed after a Broadway run of only 280 performances.  Several of the songs became pop standards and that apparently was good enough street cred for producer Zev Bufman to mount a first-class national tour and this, a revised version as I've since discovered, was the production I saw both on opening night in Chicago and on my 17th birthday. The production starred Howard Keel of movie fame and he scored top marks for being a handsome, big-voiced leading man. For me, however, the star of the show was the young lady who played the female lead (the Barbara Harris role) - Barbara Lang. A fine actress, a good comic and a sensational, earthy singer (note: her "What Did I Have That I Don't Have?" stopped the show cold at the Shubert and kept it stopped for a while), she was able to earn a living acting and should have been one of the great theatre discoveries of the late 60s. But, for whatever reason, she wasn't and that, truly, was the theatre's loss. I've tried Google/Wikipedia, etc., but apparently she just disappeared from show business sometime in the late 80s. (No, she is not Barbara Lang, the movie actress, who died in 1982.) On a Clear Day You Can See Forever is my all-time favorite "B" show. Sadly, over the years it has been subjected to a dreadful movie adaptation starring a woefully miscast Barbra Streisand and a 2011 reimagined (mis-imagined?) revival starring Harry Connick, Jr., that will be featured in a future post. - at the Shubert Theatre, Chicago

May, 2007. The critics didn't care much for this as a play, but to a person, they praised the estimable talents of its two A-list-and-then-some stars, Angela Lansbury and Marian Seldes. This play marked Lansbury's return to Broadway after a 24-year absence. The plot concerns two former women's doubles tennis champions who are reunited for a tribute at the U.S. Open. During the course of a match, they reminisce about the good old days, old grudges, old friends and the reasons they ended their partnership and, essentially, their friendship. When Mr. McNally kept his focus on the two ladies, the play had a certain easy charm and some surprisingly big laughs. Unfortunately, however, he also added two sports commentators who provided "color" and gave the audience a lot of background history (couldn't that have been woven into the dialogue between the leads?) and a fan who sort of functioned as a one-man Greek chorus, with a number of heartfelt soliloquies about what these two ladies mean to him. While the actors portraying these characters were all very professional and competent, their contributions muddied the play and that is why this is a "B" show. Had McNally written a two-hander, this could easily have been the sleeper hit of the season. As it was, it completed its advertised limited run of 121 performances, plus previews, and closed at a loss. For the record, the audience at the attended matinee, including us, were quite enraptured with Misses Lansbury and Seldes. Talk about your class acts! - at the Music Box Theatre

July,2005. A rare opportunity to see this underrated musical: the sole collaboration between theatre greats Richard Rodgers, Stephen Sondheim and Arthur Laurents. Based on his play, The Time of the Cuckoo, Laurents' book is a bit of a mess which some nicely drawn characters and others who, well, could be cut without any real harm to the story. The heroine is a bit of a pain in the ass, the hero is a dishonest opportunist and adultery abounds. The glory, though, is in the score: a richly melodic, lyrically nuanced treat for the ears. With a better, more consistent, book (and, I suppose, if the authors had actually all played well together), this could have been a modest "A" list show instead of a negative memory for the creative team. A surprising choice for the we-usually-play-it-safe Theatre at the Center, this well-produced, well-directed and well-acted production featured outstanding performances by Chicago favorites Hollis Resnick (a stunning Leona) and Paula Scrofano (a wise and worldly Signora Fioria), with Larry Adams ably portraying the somewhat despicable DiRossi. The matinee audience  seemed to enjoy it, yet at the same time I felt they secretly wished they were watching something a bit lighter in flavor.  In my opinion, long overdue for an Encores production with, perhaps, a revised and sharpened book. - at the Theatre at the Center, Munster, IN

March, 1979. Fourth preview performance. Unofficially based on the film, Buona Sera, Mrs. Campbell (there's no program credit), the plot revolved around Carmelina Campbell, three GI lovers, a daughter from one of them, 17 or so years of triple child support, a secret admirer and a GI regimental reunion. Myriad complications ensued and there was a happy ending as the curtain fell. With a creative team to die for - book by Alan Jay Lerner and Joseph Stein, lyrics by Lerner, music by Burton Lane - and designed by the cream of theatre designers to give the show a lush look and performed by a cast that included Cesare Siepi for that Italian ambiance and the incomparable Georgia Brown to provide some good, old-fashioned star power, this certainly should have been a winner. Sadly, however, most of the critics dismissed it as being old-fashioned and out-of-step with the times and it closed after only 17 performances. I loved it. It was funny, literate, gorgeous to look at, well-acted (and Georgia Brown was divine!) and had a phenomenal score, capped off with a killer 11:00 number for Brown that had the capacity audience at the St. James applauding like mad. It deserved a much longer run. Old-fashioned? Out-of-step with the times? Perhaps, but I hope the theatre always has a place for the well-written, solid show with great production values; one that places good story-telling and defined characters above flashy projections and gimmicks. Had Carmelina been produced 10-15 years earlier, the critical outcome probably would have been much different and the show would have had a decent, profitable run. Ironically, twenty years later, another version of the source film would open in London (2001 in New York), this time not nearly as well-constructed with a really mediocre script, but with an ABBA treasure trove of hits for a score. It would survive critical drubbings in London and New York and at this writing (May, 2013), is still packing them in eight times a week. That show, of course, is Mamma Mia! and it's one of my guilty pleasures. I wonder, though, if the creators of that show ever think about or know of this little gem that did it all first. - at the St. James Theatre, New York

November, 2006. Bob and I saw this very funny and sometimes very silly play on our anniversary. Considering the plot revolves in part around the U.S. government's legal definition of marriage, it was an appropriate choice. From a production point-of-view, this show was an absolute wow: fabulous set, wonderful lighting and gorgeous clothes. The fabulous Christine Baranski and the late George Grizzard headed up the fine cast, with a tasty and tart turn by Sian Phillips and the scene-stealing Jackie Hoffman doing her best in a role that was simultaneously both overwritten and underwritten.  It finished its scheduled run and that was that. What's the "B" show factor here? Well, folks, it's the Paul Rudnick script. Now understand, I like Paul Rudnick, but I do feel all of his writing, including his fiction, just runs out of steam somewhere along the line, loses focus, and strives too hard to be witty and this play was no exception. The pivotal plot point of gays going on strike for a day to show the world how much the world relies on GLBT people and their talents is a great one and he mined it to good advantage here, but at two acts, it all just seemed too long and I believe the play would have benefited enormously by cutting and trimming it into a smart and sassy 90-minute one act. The reviews were dismissive; reader comments were negative. I liked it quite a lot. It deserved better. - at the New York City Center Stage 1 (MTC), New York

May, 1997. This charmer by Kander and Ebb received mixed to negative reviews and managed only a three month run. Set in Atlantic City at a marathon dancing competition during the Depression, Steel Pier was about second chances, redemption, fleeting fame and making choices on how to live your life. Susan Stroman provided the choreography and mighty good choreography it was, too. Kristin Chenoweth made her Broadway debut as a small-town girl who turns out to be more devious that her wholesome looks indicated. Debra Monk was both hilariously bringing the show to a grinding and sustained halt with "Everybody's Girl" and heartbreakingly desperate in "Somebody Older." Daniel McDonald, who would tragically die at a young age from cancer ten years later, played the hero in a charming, understated performance. Gregory Harrison was the handsomely sleazy marathon manager in a very un-Trapper John, M.D. performance. But it was the remarkable Karen Ziemba's portrayal of faded celebrity Rita Racine which gave the show its heart and center. Ziemba is highly-regarded in the theatre world. There's a reason for that. A terrific, expressive singer, an amazing dancer and a sophisticated, nuanced actor, she's been pretty damn wonderful in everything I've seen her in. "Well, Jeff, if this show was so good, why do you consider it a "B" show?," you ask. It's a "B" show simply because it couldn't find an audience. It just didn't have the must-see reviews. In a season of disappointing and critically underwhelming shows (FYI: this was the season of the dreadful Jekyll and Hyde), this flawed beauty should have run much longer, but sadly that was not to be. I'm so glad we saw this! (Sidebar: future Tony-winning choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler was a member of the ensemble!) - at the Richard Rodgers Theatre, New York

Winter, 2005. Remember my mentioning that on occasion a "B" show has won the Tony? Hallelujah, Baby! Is one of those shows. Winner of the 1968 Tony Award for Best Musical, this has a dynamic score by Betty Comden, Adolph Green and Jule Styne, shown off to top advantage by the original cast album featuring a awesomely wonderful Leslie Uggams. I somehow managed to miss the tour when it came through Chicago, so I was very excited to finally get the chance to see this in Washington, DC while on a layover. (Note: I planned my flight schedule for that month so I would have a DC layover that would allow me to see this.) The show initially ran for just under 300 performances in New York, opened to very mixed reviews and would close at a loss. Ironically, the Tony Awards the show won would garner no box office bump since it had already closed months before the Tonys were handed out. What makes this Tony winner a "B" show is its confusion about what it wants to be. Ostensibly it's about the history of African Americans over the last century using show business as its narrative engine. But was it supposed to be an entertainment? A political study? A lesson in race and race relations? Arthur Laurents revised his book for this production, first produced at the George Street Playhouse, in part, I believe, to remedy some of the critical concerns of the original production. Even with the revisions, however, the show remained somewhat of a mystery to me. It was very entertaining, the story line was compelling and the performances were all excellent, but there was a undercurrent of anger throughout the show that kept me from truly caring about the characters. Yes, there has been rampant prejudice and despicable behaviour from whites towards blacks, but, as portrayed in the show, the leading character, Georgina, sometimes caused the bad things to happen to her because she was just an insufferable bitch and despite all of Suzzanne Douglas' talents, it was hard to warm up to her character. This has the potential to be a great show. It just needs a loving, balanced revision of its confused book. (Sidebar: songwriter Amanda Green contributed additional lyrics to this production.) - at the Kreeger Theatre (Arena Stage), Washington, DC

That's it for today. Comments welcome. More later!