CONCERTS!

CONCERTS!

And now for something a little different, the first in an occasional series.

A stage. A performer or group of performers. An audience. And that, in a nutshell, is a concert.

Starting things off… a very special evening?

A VERY SPECIAL EVENING WITH PIA ZADORA – Drury Lane Theatre, Oakbrook Terrace, IL

November, 1985. In 1982, Pia Zadora won the Golden Globe award as New Star of the Year for her critically-reviled role in the equally critically-reviled film, Butterfly. She won this award over Kathleen Turner for Body Heat and Elizabeth McGovern for Ragtime. Rumors flew fast and furious that her then-husband-slash-sugar daddy, Israeli billionaire Meshulam Riklis, in effect "purchased" the award for her with gifts and Vegas junkets for the Golden Globe voters. Très scandal!  She also won that year's Golden Raspberry Award for "Worst Actress" and "Worst New Star." Truly, Zadora was having an award-packed year. Not mentioned in any of this, however, was the fact that Zadora had a decent theatre resume going back twenty years, including a few Broadway roles, and a national tour or two, most notably Applause in the Bonnie Franklin role. Her 1983 film, The Lonely Lady, was just as painful as Butterfly, and Zadora became a joke, a punch line. But then, in 1985, Zadora released an album of standards accompanied by the London Philharmonic called Pia and Phil, and, guess what? It wasn't bad. Not bad at all, with Zadora displaying an unexpected set of pipes that reminded one a bit of Liza Minnelli. In conjunction with the album's release, she embarked on a tour, called "Standards of Excellence," with one of the stops being suburban Oakbrook Terrace's gaudy, over-the-top Drury Lane Theatre. How could anyone resist? Well, Steve and I couldn't. We were living in the western burbs then (Yes, I know, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.), so we hopped in the car and off we went to Oakbrook Terrace. Zadora's bio,1 ½  pages of very small print, I kid you not, gave one the impression that she was, well, a really major star. A bit heavy on the ego perhaps, but the proof is in the pudding, as the saying goes, and, if you were expecting to gleefully witness a train wreck, I'm afraid theatergoers were sadly disappointed. Backed by a 40-piece orchestra with a full string section (!!), Zadora sang a lot, chatted a lot, even poked a bit of fun at herself, and, not surprisingly given her theatre background, seemed at ease with the audience. The audience was warm and receptive, unlike the assessment from the Tribune music critic, and if her vocalizing didn't offer definitive versions of anything, and if it all started to sound a bit alike and a bit too packaged, it was still a pleasant way to spend an evening. – at the Drury Lane Theatre, Oakbrook Terrace

Pia and the Sardine Bar: Chicago's late and lamented Gold Star Sardine Bar was a jewel of a nightspot located at 680 N. Lake Shore Drive (Née 666 N. LSD, the address was changed by new owners to, supposedly, disassociate the building with its previous financial problems. Urban legend, however, says the God people got involved because of the satanic overtones to the number "666." I prefer the latter explanation. More fun.). My living room is larger than the Sardine Bar, yet they always kept the venue booked with folks from local great Patricia Barber to Tony Bennett to Liza Minnelli to Pia Zadora, complete with a 35-piece orchestra. Although I didn't see her there, I understand that the orchestra was crammed into the room leaving space for only a handful of patrons, who had to stand behind the bar. Pia, honey, ever hear of a combo??

Pia and that Golden Globe: In a 2015 interview, Zadora insisted that her Golden Globe was won fair and square, and that she won because those wacky members of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association really believed in their heart of hearts that she was a better actress than Kathleen Turner or Elizabeth McGovern. Oh, Pia…..

And speaking of oversized egos…

THE MITZI GAYNOR SHOW – Drury Lane Theatre, Oakbrook Terrace, IL

October, 1987. The program billed the evening as such: "MITZI GAYNOR starring in THE MITZI GAYNOR SHOW.” Well, kinda obvious in my opinion, but after just rereading all two pages of Gaynor's bio, written in worshipful prose, I'm convinced that one of Gaynor's life goals is to see her name in print as often as humanly possible and to convince everyone that she is one of the greatest stars ever. (She isn't.) The program notes continued the breathless hyperbolic prose, and I distinctly remember being rather put off by it. Which was a shame, really, because Gaynor's show was slick, professional, and hugely entertaining, and I may have enjoyed it more if I hadn't been assaulted by all the unnecessary verbiage of praise. Yes, Gaynor delivered the goods, and at fifty-six she was singing and dancing with the best of them, but if Pia Zadora's concert two years earlier seemed a bit packaged, Gaynor's show was delivered with a rehearsed precision that forbade any hint of spontaneity. Gaynor, pro that she is, however, managed to make her chitchat seem off the cuff and the audience, Steve and I were among the youngest there by a few decades, couldn't wait to leap to their feet at the show's end. Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed the evening. I really did. It's always nice to see a talent at their best, but I so wish Gaynor and her public relations folks could have let me decide for myself whether or not she's the best thing since sliced bread. She's a terrific B tier performer, no more, no less, and there's nothing wrong with that. Dial down the ego, Mitzi. – at the Drury Lane Theatre, Oakbrook Terrace, IL

And now for a true star…

JULIE ANDREWS – Chicago Theatre, Chicago, IL

January, 1988. So Pia "won" a Golden Globe, starred in a handful of awful movies, had a limited, but successful theatre career, and went on a few concert tours. I would dare say in 2018, the reaction to hearing her name would be "Pia, who?" Mitzi stopped doing movies in 1963, is most famous for the lackluster South Pacific, did some very successful TV specials, and was a Vegas regular. Still and all, in 2018, the reaction to hearing her name would most likely be "Mitzi Gaynor? Heard of her. Wasn't she in the movies?" And then there's Julie Andrews. No introduction needed. No "Julie, who?" The Broadway star of The Boy Friend, My Fair Lady, Camelot, and the legit adaptation of her film smash, Victor/Victoria. The film star of Mary Poppins, The Sound of Music, Thoroughly Modern Miller, 10, S.O.B. (note…if you haven't seen S.O.B., put it on your Netflix queue now.), Victor/Victoria, The Princess Diaries (both), and even a character voice in two Despicable Me installments. Scores of television appearances/specials. She's even the author of children's books. Add to all this, an Oscar, a recipient of a Kennedy Center honor and a DBE, making her Dame Julia Elizabeth Andrews. That, ladies and gentlemen, is true star cred. Add class and an abundance of stage presence, and, well, you have the makings of a remarkable concert. It probably goes without saying that Andrews did not disappoint her adoring audience. You got all the de rigueur Andrews songs from her Broadway and film hits in addition to some popular classics. Backed by a skilled orchestra and looking at ease, Andrews wove a spell. I had a grand time! – at the Chicago Theatre, Chicago

Opening Acts: Although Pia Zadora had an opening act, I can't remember who it was. I don't believe Gaynor had one, since her show had two acts and an interval. Ventriloquist Jay Johnson opened for Andrews, and he was superb.

Victor/Victoria…Film vs. Stage: I'm simply mad about the film Victor/Victoria. Full stop. The story, the score, the acting, all of it. When it was announced that Chicago would be one of the stops for the stage adaptation of V/V on its way to Broadway, I was absolutely thrilled. Sadly, what was presented on the Shubert stage was a mess. Numbers from the film were cut in favor of substandard replacements; the stage actors, while all pros, didn't quite land as well as their film counterparts; even Andrews, in what would be her first Broadway appearance in over thirty years, seemed uncomfortable and, oddly, tentative. I pretty much hated everything about it, and the show is one of my all-time theatrical train wrecks.

FERRANTE & TEICHER – Norris Cultural Arts Center, St. Charles, IL

October, 1985. The legendary duo of the grand pianos didn't disappoint in an evening of their greatest hits. The Norris, a pleasant 1000 seat house in St. Charles, was packed with fans, Steve and I again being among the youngest by a generation or so. In fact, we went with Steve's parents. Come to think of it, Ferrante and Teicher was a perfect show to see with one's parents. Void of the celestial choir and orchestral backup found on their albums, the concert was elegant in its simplicity of two grand pianos and two men who knew how to make beautiful music on them. They would retire from performing four years later. – at the Norris Cultural Arts Center, St. Charles, IL

MARIA FRIEDMAN SINGS SONDHEIM – Café Carlyle, New York

May, 2006. The elegant, pricy Café Carlyle is the perfect venue for an intimate evening of song stylings by a talented singer. An evening of all Sondheim tunes delivered with elan makes it even more perfect. And if that talented singer is Maria Friedman, it makes the evening even more perfect than more perfect. A few years earlier, we'd seen Friedman in the sadly under-produced and underrated The Witches of Eastwick in London's West End and immediately fell in love with her. At the Café Carlyle, we fell in love with her all over again. Warm and personable, Friedman, backed by piano and cello, made the 70 minutes or so fly by, left us wanting more, and made one truly appreciate the genius of Sondheim's music. We had the opportunity to chat a bit with her after the show, and she made us feel that our presence at the performance that night absolutely made her day. This was a first-class evening from start to finish. – at the Café Carlyle, New York

About Ms. Clayburgh… In New York, you'll never know who's going to be at the next table. That evening, my next door neighbor was Jill Clayburgh. No, I didn't recognize her immediately. She looked familiar, but… Then she laughed and started talking to her tablemates and, well, her voice was unmistakable, and I just stared at her and blurted out, in my charming and elegant way, "Oh my God, you're Jill Clayburgh!" Nice, Jeff. So cool! Fortunately, she took pity on this blithering idiot, smiled, and said something sweet and kind, and we all went back to our drinks. She was appearing in a revival of Barefoot in the Park. Have no idea why we didn't see that. A few years later, shortly after Clayburgh died in 2010, Bob and I saw her daughter, Lily Rabe, in Seminar, and, wow, could you tell she's Jill Clayburgh's daughter. The voice, the mannerisms, the laugh. Jill Clayburgh was a great talent taken from us too soon.

AN EVENING WITH BETTY BUCKLEY – Symphony Center, Chicago

May, 1999. Prior to this concert, I'd seen Betty Buckley four times. First in the early 70s in Broadway's Pippin as Catherine. Then in the late-80s, post-Cats, post television's Eight Is Enough, in a very strange performance at the late, lamented George's, a lovely cabaret/jazz club on Kinzie, behind the Merchandise Mart. That was followed by performances in Sunset Boulevard, first in 1994 in London, shortly after taking over the part of Norma from Patti LuPone, in a performance that was vocally superb, but tentative in the acting department. Then two years later in 1996 on Broadway, after replacing Glenn Close, in a performance that was confident, assured, and oozing with star charisma. No one can deny the woman's talent, and the packed house at Symphony Center, aka Orchestra Hall, including a huge contingent of gay men, cheered at almost everything Buckley did in a long evening of songs and reminisces. I was not among them. Underneath the well-rehearsed chat, there lurked a coolness, an aloofness that I found off-putting. Oh, she sang all the big hits, including a couple from Sunset, and, of course, "Memory," but I just couldn't warm up to her. Claiming "Meadowlark" from The Baker's Wife has always been her song, when in truth it's considered one of Patti LuPone's signature songs, was a jarring bit of ego that didn't sit well with me. By the end of the evening, I was frankly tired of it all and scooted out after the last number, skipping the encores, a first for me. – at Symphony Center (Orchestra Hall), Chicago

Betty Sighting: In 2010, Bob and I went to a cabaret show at Feinstein's at Loew's Regency starring Michael Urie and his Ugly Betty co-star, Becki Newton (more about that performance in another installment). After being seated for the second show, Bob got up to use the loo. In the lobby he ran into Betty Buckley, who was leaving the club after seeing the first show. According to Bob, she was warm, friendly, and just plain nice. Huh. Wasn't expecting that. Glad to hear it.

While we're on the subject, let's talk about that George's gig…

BETTY BUCKLEY – George's, Chicago

May, 1989. In May, 1989, Betty Buckley was probably most noted for her step-mother role in television's hit series, Eight Is Enough, her Tony-winning performance as Grizabella, that "Memory" feline, in Cats, and her co-starring turn in the lovely, underrated film, Tender Mercies. By this time, she had also survived the infamous Carrie on Broadway. Now George's was just about the perfect place to see a talented performer up-close and personal. It was intimate, the drinks were good, the atmosphere relaxed. Buckley received warm entrance applause, but then shortly after beginning her set, she announced that she hoped we weren't expecting to hear a lot of show tunes because that wasn't what she wanted to do. Well, okay, then. While a performer has every right to determine their program, still and all, there was probably a much more audience-friendly way to state that this wasn't going to be a Broadway singalong. Oh, she sang the occasional theatre song, but the bulk of the show was devoted to some classics, some original stuff, some was good, some was over-interpreted, and the chat was, well, I didn't know what she was babbling about. In the end, she finally did the song everyone came to hear, but she prefaced it by saying this would be a "Memory" that we've never heard before. What? Girl, that song got you a freaking Tony. Quit being weird and just sing the damn thing! Now, truthfully, it wasn't bad, but it was all subdued and introspective and, well, kinda dull. The Tribune critic gushed that the 1989 Buckley was well on her way to becoming her generation's Julie Wilson. Uh….no. While there was absolutely no mistaking Buckley's magnetism and musical professionalism, claiming her to be her generation's Julie Wilson was a stretch. Sorry. There was only one Julie Wilson and she was magnificent. – at George's, Chicago  

  

Gosh, this was fun. Hope you enjoyed it. That's enough concerting for today. Ta! 

© 2018 Jeffrey Geddes

OFF THE RAILS OR THEATRICAL TRAIN WRECKS Part One

OFF THE RAILS OR THEATRICAL TRAIN WRECKS

Part One

I've been going to professional theatre productions since 1966. That's nearly a half century now. (Okay, that just really sunk in. Wow.) Over those nearly fifty years, I've seen my share of really, really bad shows, the theatrical equivalent of train wrecks. But, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I truly believe no one in the theatre wakes up one morning, pours a cup of coffee, and proclaims, "I'm going to write/produce/act in/design/direct a rotten show!"  Who has the time to do this?  Who has the money to do this?  I believe all theatre projects start out with the best of intentions. Somewhere along the way, however, things go south, the folks involved, for whatever reasons, can't (unfixable material) or won't (big blinders, bigger egos, and even bigger delusions that everything is fine) fix the situation, and, inevitably, disaster occurs.

A case in point: back in the late 80s, an acquaintance of mine opened a musical on Broadway. The show received savage reviews and closed quickly. A million or so dollars down the drain; a dozen or so actors out of a job. What went wrong? For starters, a troubled and confrontational gestation period that, if anything, only got worse during the show's tryout and, sadly, continued and worsened through its preview period and short Broadway run. Add to the mix the inexperience of the show's creators, which resulted in a listless book and a mostly forgettable score. ("Mostly" because the score does offer up two really good songs.) Top if off with a production that looked cheap and substandard. And as a final touch, a hapless cast struggling with the material compounded by a barely competent performance by its leading lady. But it didn't start out that way. Like all new shows, hopes and spirits were high. But then, but then…

All of the shows I'll chat about in these next three posts started out with the best of intentions. Many of these shows were written by/directed by/starring top names in the business, folks who know or should know quality material. What all of these shows lacked, however, was the truly objective voice that could say, "STOP!! Danger, Will Robinson, danger!" and the results were hot theatrical messes that confounded both its audiences and its critics. In the theatre, far more shows fail financially than succeed in making their money back. Some fail so spectacularly they become legendary, a part of theatrical lore. Breakfast at Tiffany's, Carrie, and Moose Murders immediately come to mind. Most, however, simply close and are rarely thought of again. Some of the shows I'll write about ran for a long time, but didn't make money, and others were barely a blip on the theatrical radar. These are my top ten theatrical train wrecks. Shows that truly went "off the rails."

Let's begin.

WILD AND WONDERFUL – Lyceum Theatre, New York

November, 1971. First preview/world premiere! Neither wild nor wonderful, for forty years, this justly-forgotten musical was my gold standard for theatrical train wrecks. The impetus to see this show was Walter Willison, who I saw a few months earlier in the pedestrian Richard Rodgers' musical, Two by Two. He was the bright spot in the show, talented, only a few years older than me, cute as all get out, and, frankly, I had a bit of a crush on him. I was excited at the prospect of seeing the very first performance of his new musical. By the time the curtain fell on that first preview performance, I was far less than excited and knew that I had just witnessed a monumental flop. And, boys and girls, it was monumental. Terrible book, terrible score, terrible production values, terrible direction, terrible choreography. Why anyone ever thought this material should be produced on Broadway is beyond me. You know you're in trouble when the book writers' and the composer's Playbill bios are all terribly vague and say things like "he has written for the theatre for many years both off and on Broadway" or "he has been directing television programs for CBS" and no titles are offered. The plot, if one can truly call it that, involved the CIA (I kid you not. One of the songs was titled "I Spy.") with the horribly misused Willison cast as a cool and hip spy dude assigned to infiltrate the radical youth of the very early 70s. Toss in a winsome lass who Cool and Hip Spy Dude mistakes for a radical bomber for reasons that make absolutely no sense. Then add in Roman Catholic clerics for that touch of religion and, well, you get the picture. It was a mess…fascinating and horrifying to watch at the same time. But, if every cloud indeed has a silver lining, Wild and Wonderful had one sensational silver lining in Laura McDuffie, who, in her Broadway debut, had the misfortune of being cast as the female lead, but who somehow managed to add dignity, charm, and huge amounts of talent to this disaster of a show. I was totally mad about her. The fact that Wild and Wonderful marked not only her Broadway debut, but also her Broadway farewell, was a great loss for Broadway. Had her debut show been even a modest success, I think she could have had a long and successful career in New York. So, why, you ask, was this show secure and relatively unchallenged for decades as the worst show I'd ever seen? I guess I'd have to say because this simply should not have been produced. It was amateur hour and a lot of money, talent, and time was wasted. Lots of worthier projects go unproduced, yet something like this somehow finds backing. I'm still shaking my head about this one. Oh…and Walter Willison? Well, he was still cute and all, but I moved on. Willison did, too, to a nice long stay in Pippin. Wild and Wonderful played nine previews, then opened to disastrous reviews and closed that night eight days after the performance I saw. 

Fun Factoids: Wild and Wonderful was produced under something called the Broadway Limited Gross Contract, a now defunct contract designed for productions scaled to earn less the $25,000 per week. (!!) Remember, this was in 1971. It offered lower union pay scales and, I believe, work rule concessions to promote production of smaller, more intimate shows. Top price for Wild and Wonderful was $5.00!  Even in 1971, that was a bargain. Another fun factoid, singer and Barbra Streisand sound-alike Julie Budd was supposed to make her Broadway debut in Wild and Wonderful. She dropped out shortly before previews began and Laura McDuffie took over. According to IBDB, Budd has only appeared on Broadway once in something called Catskills on Broadway. Sounds terrible, but at least she dodged the  W&W bullet. And one last fun factoid, in the ensemble was a young Ann Reinking in her second Broadway appearance. This was before she became Gwen Verdon's doppelgänger.

LESTAT – Palace Theatre, New York

One of my favorite actors, Will Swenson, was in the ensemble and one of the understudies for Lestat. He's gone on to far better things.

The hapless principals of Lestat. They tried; they really tried!

(edited from an earlier post)

May, 2006.  A score by Elton John and Bernie Taupin (together again!) based on Anne Rice's sensational vampire books and starring Hugh Panaro and Carolee Carmello?  Hell, I would have invested in this. The West Coast tryout made a crapload of money at San Francisco's Curran Theatre despite receiving cool/negative reviews, though Variety gave the show a very qualified, modestly positive notice.  Before opening in New York, Lestat underwent massive changes and anticipation was high, though how much of that anticipation was hoping for a hit or, based on the out-of-town reviews, hoping for disaster is moot. The show opened after a month of previews, received blisteringly sarcastic and box-office killing reviews, and closed after five struggling weeks. How bad was it?  Well, to be honest, it was pretty dreadful, but, there were many nice moments throughout the show.  The score had one strikingly beautiful number in "Sail Me Away," Hugh Panaro's performance was first-rate  (and he's soooo easy on the eyes and has that wonderful voice!), and it had a fine physical environment.  But one just could not escape the fact that the plot elements of the show just never coalesced into a cohesive whole. Perhaps the mistake was using both Interview with the Vampire and Lestat as the primary source material. Perhaps author Linda Woolverton would have been better served by sticking to just Lestat. After all, he is the title character. Anne Rice's vampire books are loaded with gothic horror, steamy romance, and hot homoeroticism, and face it, who wouldn't want Hugh Panaro to bite on your neck?, but all three elements were in short supply on the Palace stage. It wasn't necessarily dull; it just sort of sat there, inert and pretty lifeless. The cast was earnest and did their best, but there was one, well, I wouldn't call it an exception, but it sort of stood out for all the wrong reasons. Carolee Carmello, as Lestat's mom, was just as game and earnest as everyone else, but seemed so wrong in this part, so out of step with the rest of the proceedings. Understand, I love Carolee Carmello, but here she was just…off. For example, at one point, after she had been turned into a vampire by her loving son who just couldn't say goodbye to dying Mom, she enthusiastically attacked a hapless victim with scenery-chewing fervor and the audience laughed, which I don't think was the response the creators were going for. (Lest you think the audience was mean, the laugh was honest. The scene was overacted to such a degree, it was not even vaguely terrifying, which was, I think, the desired effect.) Lestat is one of my top theatrical train wrecks because it could have and should have been so much better with all the talent and source material involved.  Sad, sad, sad.

Fun Factoid: Hugh Panaro is one of the stars in an unassuming, gay-themed film from 1997 called Broadway Damage. It's one of my favorites. It's sweet, has a heart, is about theatre and has a charming cast. Panaro plays a somewhat nasty, unsympathetic character, but he's so good-looking, you don't really care.

NORMA DOESMEN – Abingdon Theatre, New York

March, 2010. Appallingly bad. Offensively bad. Relentlessly bad. A sexy, naughty spoof on the film classic Sunset Boulevard on paper seemed like a pleasant enough diversion for a March Saturday  afternoon, especially since it starred famed Judy Garland impersonator Tommy Femia as Norma Doesmen. Get it…"Doesmen." Hahahahahaha. How about "Joe Dillis" or even better, "Betty Shaveher"? Hahahahahahaha. Yes, yes, I know. We should have known better. Back when I first started going to New York in the 70s, it was still possible to produce a show off-Broadway for a relatively low cost and many shows were produced by playwrights, composers, actors, etc. to showcase their oftentimes dubious talents. These were called vanity productions. To call Norma Doesmen a vanity production is an insult to vanity productions. There really wasn't a redeeming feature in this trash, though, to be fair, I will admit the first few minutes appeared promising. It quickly, very quickly, went downhill. The so-called writer and director, Stephen Stahl, has a bio that fills up an entire page, yes, I said page, of the program. Seriously, dude? Who do you think you are? Mitzi Gaynor? (Inside joke. Mitzi Gaynor's bio in a concert Playbill was over 1 1/2 pages. Mitzi Gaynor? Please.) Credit where credit is due, you have some good credits, but, sweetcakes, a full page? That sort of self-aggrandizement reeks of vanity gone amuck. Except for Femia, the other three actors were making debuts, either off-Broadway or NYC itself. I don't know if they've gone on to do other things, but this was not an especially auspicious way to make a debut. We fled at the interval. We would have left earlier had we not been bogged down with shopping bags filled with goodies for our newborn granddaughter and the noise made by bags rattling, etc. would have been rude. Our departure meant the house would number twelve for the second act. If those twelve were smart, they would have followed our lead. In case you're wondering, the reason this didn't trump Wild and Wonderful as the leader was because W&W actually thought it had the goods to be a Broadway-caliber musical; Norma Doesmen's aspirations were more modest. It still sucked. Full stop.

VICTOR/VICTORIA – Shubert Theatre, Chicago

Hillel Gitter as "Mr. Balloon Man." Who is this person, you ask? According to his bio, he's a "citizen of the world" (spare me) and does something horrifically called "Clowntomime." Mimes AND clowns? That's just so inexcusably wrong in so many ways.

Christopher Innvar, who understudied King Marchan and was in the ensemble, would be a very, very good File in the Roundabout revival of 110 in the Shade a few years later.

It wasn't Julie's fault. It wasn't. Well, maybe a little.

July, 1995. Victor/Victoria is one of my favorite movies and hands-down my favorite Julie Andrews one. The film is sharp and sophisticated, lovely and lush to look at, with top-notch performances and a vibrant score. At the time I believed it to be a natural to transfer to the stage, so I was very excited when Victor/Victoria announced a pre-Broadway tryout in Chicago that would star Julie Andrews in her first Broadway appearance in over thirty years. Sadly, my initial excitement as the lights went down and the overture began quickly turned to bewilderment ("That wasn't very good. I hope it gets better.") to dismay ("What are they doing?") to complete disappointment ("Wow. What the hell happened?"). Excising "Gay Paree" and "The Shady Lady from Seville" and replacing them with the vastly inferior "Paris By Night" and, oh dear God in heaven, shoot me now, "Louis Says" was not only a major misstep, it was just plain stupid. The ill-advised revamp of "Le Jazz Hot," which actually got applause when I saw the film at the McClurg Court, turned this show-stopper for Julie Andrews into a song about the ensemble and Ms. Andrews sitting on top of a piano, while in the process tossing out all of the film's spectacular staging. To add insult to injury, Andrews' thrilling high note at the end of the song was pre-recorded, obviously and clumsily added, and basically smacked down the number. Now, granted, the song was pitched at least a third lower than the film version, but if Andrews could no longer hit that note, why not just give her a good belting high note that she could hold forever and let her honestly bring the number home? Obviously, money was not an issue and the production looked expensive. The cast consisted of theatre pros, but, and I really, really, really do hate film/stage (or stage/film) comparisons, the stage principals, including, oddly, Andrews, just did not come close to the film's originators. Closest was the always-charming Gregory Jbara. Tony Roberts, who is consistently professional, but not consistently interesting, was a flat Toddy; Rachel York, and I'm a Rachel York fan, was shrill and one-note as Norma (and her number "Paris Makes Me …", the ellipsis standing in for the word "horny," which apparently Playbill thought was too saucy a word for 1995 Chicago audiences, didn't help her at all); Michael Nouri was handsome, but bland. Even Andrews seemed tired. Don't get me wrong. She worked her butt off and was always every inch the star, but there was a lack of freshness that surprised me. The less said about the Act Two horror "Louis Says", the better. Direction seemed unfocused; the choreography seemed uninspired. But even with all the bad decisions and missteps, there were two moments of pure magic when Julie Andrews did what she does best and, alone on stage, sang a beautiful "Crazy World" in Act One and a lovely new song, written for the show by Frank Wildhorn, called "Living in the Shadows" near the end of Act Two. Audience response was enthusiastic, with a loud standing ovation for Andrews, but, by that time, I just wanted to go home. By the way, the friends accompanying me that afternoon felt the same, so it wasn't just me. Now I know many people will disagree on my assessment for Victor/Victoria. The reason this made my top ten list of theatrical train wrecks is simply because the film was such a textbook blueprint for a stage transfer and the creative team, for whatever reason, ignored what was staring them in the face and tried to reinvent the wheel, so to speak, to poor results. I suspect I would have felt quite differently had the show hewed more closely to the film. Just my humble opinion.

Sidebar: Victor/Victoria opened in New York to decidedly mixed/negative reviews, but with raves for Andrews, and ran for over 700 performances. Julie Andrews was in the show for most of its run, taking a month off for vacation, with Liza Minnelli filling in, but had to leave the show in June, 1997, when she developed vocal problems. Raquel Welch replaced her, and if anyone was in any doubt about who the draw was, it became apparent when box-office receipts tanked with Welch in the lead and the show closed four weeks later at a loss. But the big drama of the entire run, and, quite possibly of the 1995-1996 theatrical season, was Julie Andrews' announcement that she was refusing her Tony nomination as Best Actress in a musical and would not accept the award should she win because of, in her words, her "egregiously overlooked" cast and production staff. Her nomination was the show's only one, an odd state of affairs considering the other nominees in the musical categories, most especially in the Best Musical category. Seriously, Swinging on a Star? Chronicle of a Death Foretold? It was a brave stand by a classy lady and pretty much guaranteed the loss of what probably would have been her win. Donna Murphy won instead for a revival of The King and I. Sadly, after a botched operation to removed non-cancerous throat nodules in 1997, the once silken voice will never grace another musical.  

That's if for today. Part Two coming soon!

© 2015 Jeffrey Geddes