Category Archives: Broadway
Jonathan Groff is Phenomenal in ‘Just in Time’
Oftentimes, singers have the gift of reconstituting songs and making them iconic, then become celebrated for doing it. One example is Bobby Darin (1936-1973), who took the droll, sluggish “Mack the Knife” from Kurt Weill’s Three Penny Opera, and with a jazzy, upbeat swing, gave it a reverential life of its own. A singer, songwriter, and actor, Darin ambitiously sang all music styles from swing to folk, from rock and roll to country music. He played three instruments, won two Grammy awards and a Golden Globe in a fifteen year period before he left this earth, only to win more awards posthumously. For his efforts, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (1990) and the Songwriters Hall of Fame (1999).
The chronicle of his life manifested a candle burning at both ends to accomplish whatever he could in his short lifespan. Just in Time starring Jonathan Groff as Bobby Darin shines a spotlight on what made Darin a consummate performer, as he reinvented his career by adjusting to the times. Key to this production is Groff’s winning, adorable persona and uplifting and empathetic approach to portraying Darin’s mystique.
With an 11-piece band accompanying him and fine orchestrations by Andrew Resnick, this is an incredible show right out of the gate, though the book by Warren Light and Isaac Oliver based on an original concept by Ted Chapin cannot cover all of the salient information about Darin’s life for purists. However, it indeed is enough and a must-see. The exceptional Just in Time, developed and directed by Alex Timbers currently runs until November 30th at Circle in the Square.
To represent Darin’s ethos the production places the star in his favored venue, the nightclub. With set design by Derek McLane, Justin Townsend’s lighting design and Peter Hylenski sound design, Circle in the Square Theatre is transformed into both an exclusive nightclub and swank, intimate cabaret. There, Groff singularly portrays Darin’s trajectory in what has perhaps wrongly been limited as a “jukebox bio musical.”
The stunning sets around which Groff and the cast perform and enact more intimate scenes, open another aspect of the Darin persona. The immersive nightclub with two sections also converts to other settings with the use of a scrim and props. The floor area holds a cabaret-style seating arena where Groff and the others act amidst the patrons seated at tables. The multi-tiered stage of steps includes a dancing area banked on either side by the band, led by Andrew Resnick. Resnick plays piano, and supervises the music he has arranged which is vibrant, updated, resonant and heady.
Groff performs in both areas, but the showpiece numbers are on the higher levels where Darin’s Sirens dance, sing and perform with him in finely tuned, tightly choreographed numbers by Shannon Lewis. Darin’s glittering, alluring assistants include Valeria Yamin, Christine Cornish and Julia Grondin. Interestingly, theirs is an economy of movement as they surround Groff/Darin and join him with verve and style within the multi-levels of the set.
This design is exceptional and reflects the tenor of restraint, an ironic, perhaps meaningful limitation. Darin had severe health issues throughout his life and the knowledge that death was near, a terrible psychological/emotional/physical limitation, nevertheless spurred him on with a driving urgency. Darin pushed himself and everyone around him. He was about, “having a lot of living to do” because of his rheumatic heart. Despite his “mother’s” (the wonderful Michele Pawk), adjurations that the doctor told him nonsense that he would die in his teenage years, Darin took the doctor’s warnings “to heart.” He daily lived with death, and using the warning like a stoic’s “memento mori,” inspired himself to “live to the fullest.”
If anything, that is a theme of Just in Time. It is a riff on the idea that our time is limited and we must make the most of it with the gifts we have, as Bobby Darin did.
Just in Time originated as The Bobby Darin Story, a series of five concerts in 2018 at the 92nd Street Y, starring Groff as Darin. Since then its book and Timbers’ development and direction manifested a production with flowing, urgent forward momentum. Groff/Darin freezes the action with a “snap of his fingers” to add briskly paced narrative humor. These asides and direct addresses to the audience unfold Darin’s life story between upbeat club numbers dated for the time, but redirected for our time via Resnick’s arrangements. The entire production is set up as a series of night-club acts, and a stage performance to familiarize non fans with the man and his career.
However, before we discover Darin’s ambition and death-spur that propelled him, Groff is introduced as himself and assumes the relaxed, dressed to the nines (Catherine Zuber’s costume design), carefree, Groff-styled night-club persona. Groff twits the audience, making them his confidante, grounding it for his future direct addresses that will follow as a device that cycles through Darin’s life events briskly. These cover his childhood, the start of his career writing songs for Connie Frances, their relationship and break-up, his hits, the record company bosses, his revolutionary stylization of “Mack the Knife” and beyond to his relationship and marriage to Sandra Dee, its end, and his reinvention after he goes bankrupt.
As Groff zips and zags through the retrospective of Darin’s too brief life, we follow the whirlwind. Occasionally, we glimpse through the pull back of the curtain into his failing health, as Groff’s Darin initializes the stresses of his broken marriage and the revelation of a family secret that devastated him and most probably impacted his health.
In the opening set up of crooning songs “This Could be the Start of Something Big,” “Just in Time,” and lead in to the story of Darin’s life with the vamp of “Beyond the Sea,” Groff’s interpretations are sensational. Then, the audience is off and running with Groff’s self effacing line, “Whether you’re a fan of Bobby Darin, or one of the twelve people who watched “Mindhunter” – it doesn’t matter how I got you. All that matters is that you’re here and, tonight, you’re mine.”
And no joke, that’s the truth. We go with Groff down Darin’s memory lane, meeting his sweetheart that was not to be, Connie Francis (the sensational Gracie Lawrence), his “sister” always concerned for his health (Emily Bergl), his loving, show business influential “mother” (Michelle Pawk), and wife Sandra Dee (Erika Henningsen), among others who fill in various roles (Joe Barbara, Lance Roberts, Caesar Samayoa). As swiftly and smoothly as the first act spools, the second act covers his relationship with Sandra Dee, giving it short shrift, along with Darin’s political endeavor helping Bobby Kennedy’s presidential campaign. Darin was present at the Ambassador Hotel and suffered another devastation at Kennedy’s death.
The show concludes with Groff/Darin, back in the nightclub where he fits best after a few years of resettlement. As the final capstone song, the production ends with “Once in a Lifetime/That’s All” as Groff powerfully, forcefully pulls out all the stops and his closest family and friends give remarks upon learning of Darin’s death after open heart surgery. Groff concludes with poignant remarks, “Every breath we take is a gift we get to open. It isn’t enough. And yet, it is so much.” Groff back in his own skin, makeup off, in his own robust soul, passionately ends the gobsmacking evening with, “Thanks for spending this time with us. Goodnight. I love you.” And the audience gives love back with a resounding standing ovation.
Just in Time is a fabulous seduction, memorializing the life and times of Bobby Darin through Jonathan Groff’s being and perspective. To say he channels Darin limits the depth of the production. The separation between the men is always present and that is what makes this production rise above a “jukebox bio musical.” None of the songs are jukebox, but reformulated. None of the patter and narrative are crassly biographical, but more at symbolic and synoptic, like a review with song twists to elucidate the events and key turning points throughout Darin’s life. Time and effort have been taken to thoughtfully render the production’s success to a new crowd of Darin fans.
Just in Time runs 2 hours 25 minutes with one intermission at Circle in the Square. https://justintimebroadway.com/
‘Stranger Things: The First Shadow,’ Stunning, Thrilling, High Wired
Stranger Things: The First Shadow
The ordinary and extraordinary contrast in this theatrical prequel set around 27 years before the Duffer Brothers’ Netflix series Stranger Things begins. Kate Trefry wrote the two-act supernatural, sci-fi-thriller origin story of fearsome Henry Creel’s genesis of terror. The story was originated by the Duffer Brothers, Jack Thorne (Harry Potter and the Cursed Child), along with Kate Trefry. For those familiar with the series, no introduction is needed to the theatrical presentation currently at the Marquis Theatre. The production transferred from the West End in London to Broadway where it opened on April 22nd. For an example of some of what you’ll see on Broadway, albeit with a West End cast, except for the superb Louis McCartney who reprises his role as Henry Creel, check out the 2024 West End Trailer.
For those unfamiliar with the series, the production can stand alone, though audience members must remain quick-witted to follow the rapidly paced, brief, myriad scenes directed by Stephen Daldry and co-directed by Justin Martin to catch onto the macabre identities of the wicked paranormals that struggle to inhabit the otherwise hapless Henry Creel, a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The plot development of Stranger Things: The First Shadow riffs off Season 4 of the Netflix series, which is set in 1986, and features the nefarious Vecna, the “evolved” Henry we are introduced to as a struggling victim in this Broadway production set in 1959.
However, there is another layer and flashback to WWII which is the phenomenally brilliant opening of this production. This event illuminates how all of the series’ horrific, paranormal folly began.
Trefry and the gobsmacking creative technical team take us back to a weird rumble in the space time continuum that happened in 1943 that we see live on the stage and surrounding us as photographers circle up and down the aisles of the theater to film an incalculable experiment. Trying to gain an advantage over Nazi Germany, scientists attempt to make a US battleship invisible as a new weapon to evade the German submarines patrolling the waters, yet have it capable of firing at and destroying German U boats. In the process the “invisibility” experiment fails and there is a devastating explosion which breaks into the multiverse fabric of time’s layers and results in the extraordinary and the unexplainable of “Stranger Things.”
It would seem all men onboard the U.S.S. Eldridge are lost. Hold that thought for later in Act II. One of them is alive and “the government” via mercenary scientist (conspiracy theorists will love this), Dr. Brenner (the frigid, android-like Alex Breaux), takes advantage of what happens to the body of the only remaining naval officer who survived the catastrophe. (Well, after all, the officer volunteered for the experiment-no liability lawsuits by “family” possible.)
This astounding feat of technical illusion at the top of the production is breathtaking and prepares the audience for more of the same at the directors’ fever-pitch pacing throughout. Awards will certainly go to the teams that create the supernatural horror-illusions. The visual-effects design is by Jamie Harrison and Chris Fisher (“Harry Potter and the Cursed Child”). The video design and visual effects are by the 59 company. Additionally, with Paul Arditti’s sound design and Jon Clark’s lighting, the production becomes an animated, frightening, “telekinetic” wonder.
After this terrifying, immersively staged flashback, we step forward to 1959 in boring, mundane Hawkins, Indiana, a contrasting setting and hopeful place of refuge. There, Henry moves with his parents Victor (T.R. Knight), Virginia (Rosie Benton) and younger sister Alice (Azalea Wolfe on Saturday evenings). Henry’s paranormal talents, apparently unwelcome yet alluring, have allowed him to harm someone in his previous high school during a macabre event. This prompted the “perfect” family to leave and seek peace elsewhere. However, the circumstance involving Henry upset his mother, Virginia. She counsels Henry to repeat when he becomes anxious, “It’s not real. I’m normal. I’m Henry Creel.”
Part of the enjoyment of the uncanny horribleness of it all is how Henry attempts to be “normal,” but founders miserably at it. He is so, so creepy and preternatural. McCartney is just too good as an embattled, “terrified of himself” Henry.
As an isolated and lonely individual who only feels comfortable playing his radio, Henry fortunately does meet someone in his current high school with whom he can share a bond. Patty Newby (Gabrielle Nevaeh), is adopted and is emotionally abused by her father, and insulted by the high school students. As an obvious outsider, she and Henry (McCartney’s shy, weird, strange, pale, electrically-wired persona is incredibly effected), find solace in one another. Henry uses his powers to help her imagine and then “dream-manifest” her mother, who she discovers is alive. On the other hand, Patty helps deter Henry from submitting to the encroaching evil forces by inspiring him with her affection and attention.
In a tie-in to the plot as pets are being killed and students become involved in investigating the “whodunit,” the play includes the youthful versions of the older TV characters familiar to fans of the series. Patty’s brother, Bob (Juan Carlos), is the pudgy brainiac and the founder of the Hawkins High A.V. Club, instrumental in locating the source energy where “something is going on,” and turns out to be Henry’s house where indeed, more than something is going on. The police chief’s son, James Hopper Jr. (the endearing, funny Burke Swanson), and the high-pitched, theatrical Joyce Maldonado (a frenetic Alison Jaye), also form a bond. Joyce is the director of the play that brings Henry and Patty together. Joyce and Hopper, Jr. join efforts with Bob to find the pet killer to get a $100 reward (a lot of money back in the day).
Additionally, the three help Patty discover what happened to her father, Principal Newby, after he went with Victor Creel to confirm his daughter Patty and Henry were “hanging out” (a “no-no”), at the Creel house. When Principal Newby grabs daughter Patty to take her home, the wicked being attempting to overtake Henry rises up and Vecna (what Henry evolves to later in the 4th series), thunders loudly, “She’s ours.”
As Henry struggles to reject the evil, the scene culminates with a bloody attack. Though Bob, Hopper, Jr. and Joyce believe that Victor Creel is the animal killer, we anticipate the growing malevolence is overtaking Henry, and Patty, who says she is not afraid, is in danger. This becomes especially so when the others and Patty discover her father, Principal Newby, has been savaged and no one knows quite what happened. However, after he is given “mouth-to-mouth” he proclaims, “Find the boy. Save the boy.” as his bloodied, vacant eyes stare out of blackened, emptied sockets. Like blind, prophet Tiresias out of Greek mythology, Principal Newby prophesies save Henry or doom them all. But save him from what? From whom?
Aware that her son needs help, her husband can’t deal with his PTSD from WWII traumas and a terrible murderous event he caused, Virginia calls up specialist Dr. Brenner. He will be the one to help Henry as the good doctor takes Henry away into his care and where he conducts interesting lab tests and experiments to divine his preternatural behavior. Little does Virginia realize what Dr Brenner’s help entails and how she just made the worst decision of what is left of her life, her daughter’s life and her family’s sanctity and safety. With Dr. Brenner’s introduction, the intermission comes and the audience is stunned and exhausted wondering how Act II can be whipped up with an even greater accelerent into chaos and frightfulness.
No need to wonder. The creative team pulls out all the stops for Act II to explode and technically materialize the creatures and the themes that grace the series. By then we understand that Henry no longer exists. Like many we see today in our culture and society, he has been completely subsumed by another identity altogether. And it isn’t kind, decent, loving or generous. It is a horrible, paranormal, deplorable.
This is an incredible production which resounds visually and aurally long after you have left the Marquis Theatre. Louis McCartney steals the show as Henry. You can’t take your eyes off him expecting the best or the worst. His performance is brilliantly conceived. Gabrielle Nevaeh as his second, for a time, is empathetic and we are happy to see that she makes it through to the end. The ensemble does a fine job of tossing the ball back and forth to the one with the greatest scenes to steal. And the effects are more than breathtaking, along with the superb set design (Miriam Buether), period costume design (Brigitte Reiffenstuel), and Daldry and Martin’s staging and direction. You will be wondering how the effects were achieved, but then you also wondered in the same way when you saw Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.
Stranger Things: The First Shadow is a spectacle and in every way a credit to the series with a budget to prove it. It runs 2 hours 45 minutes with one intermission at the Marquis Theater on 46th St. between 7th and 8th. If you love the franchise don’t miss it. If you are not one for the macabre, the chill-thrill-shocker ride to hell and nightmares, see it anyway. It is a phenomenon for the technical skill displayed. As such productions like this don’t come around very often and should be appreciated for the artistry and skill to employ digital wizardry more easily accomplished in the film and TV medium than in its conversion to theatrical stagecraft. strangerthingsonstage.com.
‘Old Friends’ the Fabulous Sondheim Revue with Bernadette Peters and Lea Salonga
Who doesn’t adore Stephen Sondheim’s mastery of the Broadway musical, mentored to him by lyricist and playwright Oscar Hammerstein II? I am loathe to admit I am late to the Sondheim party, not being familiar with all of his musicals. However, the marvelous Old Friends revue, currently running at Manhattan Theatre Club’s Samuel J. Friedman Theatre is a superb opportunity for fans old and new to celebrate Stephen Sondheim’s genius and rediscover some of his greatest songs. But don’t wait too long to get down to the Friedman. Old Friends is in a limited engagement which ends June 15th unless it receives an extension.
Who better to give tribute to Sondheim’s genius than friends who starred in Sondheim’s productions? In the current revue these include some of the cast who were most recently in the Los Angeles production of Old Friends in its North American premiere (February 13 through March 9, 2025). They reprized their roles in the Broadway transfer in March which opened on April 8th. Additionally, Peters and Salonga reprized their roles from London’s West End where Stephen Sondheim’s Old Friends played in a limited engagement at the Gielgud Theater until January 6, 2024. The history of how this production evolved is fascinating. See below snippets from the West End production to get an idea of what you’ll be seeing on Broadway.
With their voices, power and humor Bernadette Peters and Lea Salonga are perfect celebrants of the Sondheim cannon. Cameron Mackintosh wasn’t the first to come up with a revue of Sondheim’s songs. That was Hal Prince’s “Side by Side by Sondheim” in 1976. Then Cameron Mackintosh convinced Stephen Sondheim an update of his music was needed and created “Putting It Together” in 1993. “Stephen Sondheim’s Old Friends” is the third revue and the first one in over 30 years in the US after its run in London.
Following the typical format of revues Old Friends doesn’t stray too far, and for some, that will be a joy. However, what makes this production special is not the selection of songs (41), but who brings out new interpretations amidst a backdrop of various suggestive sets alluding to the shows, i.e. Sweeney Todd, West Side Story, Into the Woods, Sundays in the Park With George, Follies (thanks to Matt Kinley’s scenic design) and George Reeve’s projection design. Vitally, there is a segue into clips of “the man” himself and photographs which strike the heart and make one want to read everything that’s out there about Stephen Sondheim.
Jill Parker’s costume design is clever and thoughtful. For example she features Bernadette Peters in a red cape, ready to fend off Jacob Dickey’s wolf with perky ears, giving both performers the fuel to be humorous and endearing in “Hello LIttle Girl” from Into the Woods. Peters makes the most of her comedic funny bone when warranted. She is imminently watchable and mesmerizing. Though the production features Parker’s sleek and front slit gowns-a-glitter, silk jackets and tuxedos, whether show-inspired costumes or concert level TV variety show type costumes, they give off a sheen and a comfort level of old-fashioned nostalgic glamour that is soothing in these rough times heading for what many fear will be a tariff-created depression.
The production holds the emphasis on songs from “Sweeney Todd,” “Company,” “Follies” and “Into the Woods.” Actually ‘”Sweeney Todd” has the largest song selection and the most elaborate looking set design even down to the pies, oven, and barber’s chair where Sweeney slits a fellow’s throat. Stefan Musch’s wig, hair, and make-up design along with Parker’s costumes for Sweeney Todd are appropriately period grotesque making Jeremy Secomb a scary Sweeney and Lea Salonga a crazily macabre Mrs. Lovett. They do a bang up job albeit with a malevolent twist and accent on horror in “A Little Priest” that is less comical than I’ve seen performed in the latest revival in 2023, starring Josh Groban. However, considering the song is without the context, it works well by itself.
With direction and musical staging by Matthew Bourne the segues between songs run smoothly and the numbers in front of an elaborate show curtain with arches of light and lighted graduated steps when the curtain opens to see the 14-piece orchestra, provide the set for Bourne and choreographer Stephen Mear to stage the glamorous portion of the revue. With original orchestrations by Jonathan Tunick, Stephen Metcalfe’s musical arrangements soar with harmonic lyricism. Warren Letton’s lighting design and Mick Potter’s sound design are near perfect enhancing the overall technical aspect of the production.
Performing with song and dance in front of the curtain provides the time for set changes. Songs from Company, and Merrily We Roll Along are featured simply with the highlights on the performer. For example Peters and Salonga sing “Side by Side,” as the show opener with a quick segue to full stage as the curtain opens for “Comedy Tonight” by the two stars, Jason Peycooke, Gavin Lee and the Company wearing shimmering Roman-style drapes over gowns and tuxedos.
Particularly strong numbers involve the 17 cast members singing and dancing the songs “Company,” “Into the Woods,” “Comedy Tonight,” and of course “Sunday” from Sundays in the Park with George, whose scrim of the painting appears as the set piece to close Act I before the intermission. Seeing Georges Seurat’s painting is always a stunning visual effect.
Wonderful interpretations of “Send in the Clowns” by Peters,”Ladies Who Lunch,” by Beth Leavel, “I’m Still Here,” by Bonnie Langford (who does an amazing split to conclude the kick line number), and “Everything’s Coming Up Roses,” by Salonga prove the power of the music in the specific instrument and personality of the performer. “Being Alive,” then “Side by Side” as the finale are superb capstones to conclude the joyous and heartfelt evening that is a tribute to the greatness of Stephen Sondheim. Now I’m going online to order his biography by Meryle Secrest.
Old Friends runs at The Samuel J. Friedman, 2 hours and 45 minutes, including a 15-minute intermission. https://sondheimoldfriends.com/
‘Smash,’ Fabulous Send up of a Musical Comedy About Marilyn Monroe
Smash
Chatting with two theater critics beforehand, who referenced the 2012 NBC television series also called “Smash,” I was initially distracted. The TV series set in the present revolved around two aspiring actresses who compete for the role of Marilyn Monroe in a Broadway-bound musical called “Bombshell,” about Marilyn Monroe. Apparently, the TV series which devolved into a musical soap opera, lasted two seasons then was cancelled. Since I never saw the series, I tried to ignore the critics’ comments. I fastened my seat belt and settled in to watch the revamped production in its current run at the Imperial Theatre with tickets on sale through January 4, 2026.
I had no reason to”fasten my seat belt.” Smash is a winner. Superbly directed by Susan Stroman, a master of comedic pacing and the quick flip of one-liners, Smash is a resounding must see, retaining little of the TV show with the same title. I adored it and belly-laughed my way through the end of Act I and throughout Act II.
Into the first act when Ivy Lynn (the grand Robyn Hurder), introduces her Method Acting coach, Susan Proctor (the wonderfully funny Kristine Nielsen channeling Actors Studio Paula Strasberg), I embraced the sharp, ironic and often hysterical, theater-referenced send-ups. The book by Bob Martin & Rick Elice is clever and riotous, pushing the true angst of putting on a big Broadway musical and spending millions to make it a success. Martin and Elice’s jokes and the characterizations of Nielsen’s Susan Proctor and director Nigel, the LOL on point Brooks Ashmanskas (The Prom), who tweaks the gay tropes with aplomb, work. Both actors’ portrayals lift the arc of the musical’s development with irresistible comedic riffs shepherded by Stroman’s precise timing.
The music had me at the opening with the vibrant fantasy number, “Let Me Be Your Star,” sung by Robyn Hurder, whose lustrous voice introduces Marilyn and her fandom which the creators attempt to envision with fully costumed performers singing for their musical, “Bombshell,” the Marilyn Monroe story. Then, the scene shifts to the rehearsal room where we meet the creative team who imagined the previous number and scene. Ashmanskas’ director/choreographer Nigel humorously bumps heads with writer/lyricist/composer-husband and wife team Tracy (Krysta Rodriguez) and Jerry (John Behlmann).
Also present, is his associate director and Nigel’s right arm, the golden voiced Chloe (Bella Coppola). She runs interference and puts out fires, even covering for Ivy Lynn and understudy Karen (Caroline Bowman), during an audience invited presentation. Why Ivy Lynn and Karen can’t go on is hysterical.
The music by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman, and the choreography by Joshua Bergasse are upgraded from the TV series with a curated selection of songs to align with the comedic flourishes. The musical numbers and dances cohere perfectly because the performers rehearse for their show “Bombshell.” With music supervision by Stephen Oremus, an 18-piece orchestra charges the score with vibrant dynamism. Featured are some of Shaiman’s brassiest tunes, orchestrated by Doug Besterman. Lyricist Wittman seals the humor and advances the plot. All provide grist for Bergasse’s choreography. Hurder manages this seamlessly as she sings, breathes heartily and dances while the male dancers whip and flip Ivy as Marilyn around. Of course, all smile with effortless abandon despite their exertions.
Importantly, Martin and Elice’s book sports farcical, riotous moments. These build to a wonderful crescendo by the conclusion. By then we realize we’ve come full circle and have been delighted by this send up of the wild ride these creatives went through to induce the belly-laughing “flop,” we’re standing, cheering and applauding. It’s the perfect ironic twist.
Indeed, once the audience understands the difference in tone from the TV series, largely due to Nielsen’s Proctor (she’s dressed in black mourning {Marilyn?} from head to foot), and Ashmanskas’ Nigel, Smash becomes a runaway train of hilarity. This comedy about unintentionally making a musical flop (unlike the willful intent in The Producers), smartly walks the balance beam by giving the insider’s scoop why “Bombshell” probably never finds a home on Broadway. One of the reasons involves too many chefs trying to make a Michelin starred dish without really understanding how the ingredients meld.
Nielsen’s Proctor dominates Ivy Lynn to the point of transforming the sweet, beloved actress into the “difficult,” “tortured soul” of diva Marilyn. The extremes this conceit reaches is beyond funny and grounded in truth which makes it even more humorous. Without giving too much away, there is a marvelous unity of the book, music and Hurder’s performance encouraged by Nielsen’s Marilyn-obsessed Proctor. We see before our eyes the gradual fulfillment (Proctor’s intention), of “Marilyn,” from superficial, bubbly, sparkly “sex bomb,” to soulful, deep, living woman produced by “the Method.” Of course to accomplish this, the entire production as a comedy is upended. This drives Nigel, Tracy and Jerry into sustained panic mode, exasperation and further LOL behavior especially in their self-soothing coping behaviors.
Furthermore, Producer Anita (Jacqueline B. Arnold), forced to hire Gen Z internet influencer publicist Scott (Nicholas Matos), to get $1 million of the $20 million needed to fund the show, mistakenly allows him to get out of hand, inviting over 100 influencers to Chloe’s serendipitous cover performance. The influencers create tremendous controversy which is what Broadway musical producers usually give their “eye teeth” for. Publicity sells tickets. But this controversy “backfires” and creates such an updraft, even Chloe can’t put the conflagration out. The hullabaloo is uproarious.
The arguments created by the influencers and their followers (in a very funny segment thanks to S. Katy Tucker’s video and projection design), cause huge problems among the actresses and forward momentum of “Bombshell.” Karen, Ivy Lynn’s friend and long time understudy, who has been waiting for a break for six years, watches Chloe become famous overnight for her cover. Diva Ivy Lynn who IS Marilyn is so “over the moon” jealous and threatened, she breaks up her close friendship with Karen and turns on cast and creatives, prompted by Nielsen’s Proctor who keeps up Ivy Lynn’s energy with a weird combination of mysterious white pills and even weirder “Method” tips.
Thus, the musical “Bombshell” becomes exactly what the creatives swore it would never become and someone must be sacrificed. Who stays and who leaves and what happens turns into some of the finest comedy about how not to put on a Broadway flop. Just great!
Smash is too much fun not to see. What makes it a hit are the superb singing, acting and dancing by an expert ensemble, phenomenal direction and the coherence of every element from book to music, to the choreography to the technical aspects. Finally, the show’s nonsensical sensible is brilliant.
Praise goes to those not mentioned before with Beowulf Boritt’s flexible, appropriate set design, Ken Billington’s “smashing” lighting design, Brian Ronan’s sound design, Charles G. LaPointe’s hair and wig design, and John Delude II’s makeup design.
Smash runs 2 hours, 30 minutes, including one intermission at the Imperial Theatre (249 West 45th street). https://smashbroadway.com/
‘Boop! The Musical’ is a Dazzling Spectacle. I’m a Fan!
Boop! The Musical
If you need an uplift and who doesn’t listening to the news these days, Boop! The Musical is your vehicle of delight. Currently running at the Broadhurst Theatre, Boop! is pure joyous spectacle, a Broadway extravaganza with clever twists, and a wink to the best of the past, and a thematic nod to the present.
The cast sings and dances to a variety of song genres (from jazz, to pop, to blues), and Jerry Mitchell shows his razzle dazzle choreography and staging with abandon. There is just too much to praise. The glittering kick line is bar none. The nine principals are spot on with their humorous portrayals and exquisite vocals. Boop! is a welcome send up of the fanciful, historical cartooning of yesteryear, in a mesmerizing update that shines talented brilliance at every artistic level of this blazing production
What’s not to love if you enjoy an adorable story and salient themes reinforcing “girl power,” with the additional intention to pay homage to old Hollywood, and the Jazz-age, and depression era cartoons of Fleischer Studios? Importantly, the production is a throwback to old-fashioned Broadway musicals, where most songs are memorable with a beginning, middle and end. In its song variety and hot, superlatively executed dance numbers Boop! delivers.
Directed and choreographed by Tony Award®–winner Jerry Mitchell (Kinky Boots), Boop! features music by 16-time Grammy®-winning composer David Foster and lyrics by Tony-nominated Susan Birkenhead.
The cartoony, “tongue-in-cheek” book by Bob Martin (The Prom), brings to life the iconic, historic cartoon character and current meme Betty Boop (the sensational Jasmine Amy Rogers in her Broadway debut). Betty has been a symbol of charm and empowerment for almost a century, and Rogers channels her believably to the minutest gesture, giggle and batting of her eye lashes. Importantly, Betty has an identifiable problem to solve in her personal life. As the reluctant super-star, she eventually must choose between two worlds, fiction and reality. Mustn’t we all? The show is incredibly, ironically, thematically current.
Martin presents the thrust of Boop! as fun, family fare. Going deeper as one should, the irony in Boop! as a farce, emphasizes that this is a cartoon within a cartoon, with the simplicity of a fairy-tale.
Thus, the plot develops as follows. Betty works so very hard for Fleischer Studios, portraying women’s greatness in every job imaginable (“A Little Versatility”), which actually is maverick considering her original 1930s context. And there are vicissitudes and annoyances: the publicity grind and the slimy men who harass her for her “favors and charms.” Exhausted by overwork and untoward publicity, Betty has a moment of self-reflection, something more of us need to practice. She realizes she needs a vacation from her life as a cute, celebrity cartoon with no “real” identity to discover for herself. Above all, she wishes her life was less celebrated (“Ordinary Day), so a respite from cartoonland in a venue where she won’t be recognized and judged would be just fine.
Grampy, (the lovable, powerfully voice Stephen DeRosa), her guardian and roommate, reminds her the current “world” she lives in can’t qualify because she’s a globally recognized star. However, he does suggest a tenable place to go since he went there years before, fell in love, then left. Grampy tells her reality is the place for a grand vacation. It’s much more adventurous, unscripted and serendipitous than cartoonland. (I love the irony.) Of course, this is a family show with no untoward or frightening elements like ICE (Triple Canopy) agents kidnapping folks. So when the winning, charismatic Betty lands in the present at the Javitz Center’s funscape Comic Con, having been jettisoned there by Grampy’s DIY time machine, all works out swimmingly.
In this magical atmosphere and vibrant New York City fantasia, Betty fits right in with a host of rainbow-hued fans dressed as their favorite characters from comic books. Though she is recognizable, she tries to hide her cartoon identity. Nevertheless, she is gobsmacked by reality’s wild beauty (“Color”). At Comic Con, she meets her destiny which becomes tied up with two individuals. First, is her future love interest, dreamy, blue-eyed, politically correct to a fault Dwayne (the boyish Ainsley Melham who sports an amazing voice). Along with Dwayne, she befriends the cute, clever Trisha, a forever Boop fan, who she can’t fool when she tells Tricia her name is Betsy. As Tricia, Angelica Hale is the perfect sidekick teen with an exceptional voice.
Meanwhile, Grampy discovers Betty is gone when her bosses drop by looking for her. He divines she left for reality. The key conflict, of course, is to get her to return (“Get Her Back”). But to do that Grampy must take Betty’s cutie, white dog Pudgy, a marionette operated by the wonderful puppeteer Phillip Huber. The imperative is to jump in his time machine, set it for reality and find her. With energetic multi-tasking Grampy will locate her without GPS, while reuniting with his former love Valentina (the stalwart Faith Prince), for comfort and companionship during his quest. The quaint Grampy hero, love story, sub-plot with astrophysicist Valentina gives an extra pop of reality to the fantastic.
As Betty goes home with Tricia to stay, she meets Tricia’s family, her brother, the blue-eyed Dwayne, and her Aunt Carol (the terrific Anastacia McCleskey). She discovers that Dwayne’s love of jazz (“I Speak Jazz”), dovetails with her strengths singing and dancing. Finally feeling comfortable, Betty confides her real identity to Tricia, who breaks through the cartoon character’s confusion about herself with the upbeat “Portrait of Betty.”
Betty’s adventures in reality continue when Tricia and Dwayne take her on a tour of the city and to Times Square, where the dancers join them for the continuous party that goes on there in a great number, “My New York.” Whether in cartoonland or New York City’s reality, Betty is light, laughter and healing. In an interesting counterpoint, Dwayne sings about her in realityland in contrast with Betty’s studio bosses who sing about missing her (“Sunlight”). Thus, the conflict about which world she will select to live in intensifies, for both realms will certainly draw her with those who give her love and appreciation.
If Boop! is too ridiculously fantastic and purposeless for some, they are missing the point of depression-era entertainment and entertainment today. Even in the most despairing of places and times, the imagination takes flight and the fictional fantastic gets one though the horrors that life can bring.
Though the underbelly of darkness is rarely seen in the production, it does shows up. And the enemy is a modern one. The dark villain comes in the form of a grinning, perfectly coiffed, narcissistic politician, Raymond Demarest, who is running for the office of New York City mayor. Erich Bergen is terrific in a hysterical, nuanced, full-of-himself portrayal. The corrupt, money-hungry, and exploitive Demarest is offset by his hard-working, clever, organized campaign manager, Tricia’s Aunt Carol. Carol efficiently, competently runs his campaign and life. And eventually, her efforts pay off where Demarest’s dereliction and corruption receive its due reward.
As Act One sets forth the problem. Act Two answers it for Betty, her friends and family. Boop! even justly disposes of the villain in the process of ironing out all difficulties. Would the same occur in “real” real life USA with a certain criminal felon, as happens to Demarest. The riotous Bergen makes the most of the villain’s just comeuppance, intuiting the audience’s real wishes as they watch him tripping away, all smiles in his orange jump suit. Just great!
The shimmery white and grey-toned two-dimensional Boop world is cleverly created by David Rockwell to represent Boop’s artificial universe in a snazzy scenic design that contrasts perfectly with the real world of living color. Rockwell’s suggested black, and white, multi-patterned lines and squiggly designs reflect the Boop cartoon. Other cartoon characters peek out from the curtain following the same design. Betty’s materialization in the beautifully eye-popping, gloriously colorful, real world of New York City with the accompanying song and dance numbers seal the deal.
Whether in cartoonland or reality, the costumes by Gregg Barnes are ingenious and gorgeously appropriate. The costume design in a set of two-sided costumes which reveal the contrast of the alternating grey vs. color worlds, shows maximum creative brilliance. The same must be said for the other designers whose collaborative efforts contribute to the show’s gobsmacking effect. These include Philip S. Rosenberg (lighting design), Gareth Owen (sound design), Finn Ross (projection design), Sabana Majeed (hair & wig design), Michael Clifton (make-up design), Skylar Fox (illusions design).
Mitchell and the creatives have outdone themselves. “Professional” is a partially accurate descriptor. Amazing, phenomenal, superlative, genius seems more INCLUSIVE and PRECISE. In every aspect the designs cohere with the director’s vision. Above all Daryl Waters’ music supervision (with additional arrangements), is integral to making this extraordinary production what it is. And the cast? Beyond!
See Boop! two or three times to escape for the purpose of rejuvenation. Then go right back out there and work, march, resist, protest the current villainy, taking the wisdom manifest in this production, having learned persistence from a silly, ridiculous, cartoon character with a century of staying power.
Boop! the Musical runs 2 hours 30 minutes with one intermission at the Broadhurst Theatre (235 West 44th Street). https://boopthemusical.com/?gad_source=1
‘Purpose’ Brandon Jacobs-Jenkins’ Riotous Play, Directed by Phylicia Rashad
In Purpose, Brandon Jacobs-Jenkins’ satiric family expose directed by Phylicia Rashad, we meet a patriarchal Black American civil rights icon, Solomon “Sonny Jasper (Harry Lennix), who is forced to confront his disappointments and foibles as his family gathers to celebrate the homecoming of his eldest son and namesake, Solomon “Junior” Jasper (Glenn Davis). Navigating the audience through treacherous familial waters with asides and intermittent, pointed narration, the youngest son Nazareth “Naz” Jasper (Jon Michael Hill), explores his family’s complicated legacy as he attempts to confront issues about his own identity and future.
Currently running at the Hayes Theater until July 6th, this ferocious, edgy and sardonic send up of Black American political and religious hypocrisy resonates with dramatic power. Its superlative performances and Rashad’s fine direction, make it a must-see. Importantly, in typical Brandon Jacobs-Jenkins style, the tour de force with jokes-a-plenty raises questions. It prompts us to reflect upon our own life intentions, as we examine the Jasper family’s dynamic through the acute perspective of the endearing, sensitive, vulnerable and authentic Naz. Hill is just terrific in a role which requires heavy lifting throughout.
As the play opens we note the subject matter and foundation upon which Jacobs-Jenkins’ moralistically satiric drama rests, namely the Jaspers (think along the lines of Jesse Jackson), whose heritage boasts of leaders in civil rights, congress and the protestant church. Todd Rosenthal’s lovely, well-appointed, Jasper family home represents prosperity, upward mobility and the success of the celebrated Black political elite. Solomon Jasper was Martin Luther King, Jr.’s heir apparent in the civil rights movement.
However, among other questions the play asks is, what happened to the substance and efficacy of the movement, considering the current “state of the union” under MAGA Party president Donald Trump, whose cabinet has no Black American member? What are the legacies of the Jasper’s faith? What is the heritage of their former Black radicalism, which Naz calls into question throughout the play, as the evening explodes into tragicomedy in front of unintended witness Aziza Houston (Kara Young)? As a result of the evening with the Jaspes, Aziza is horrified to see her civil rights icons, Solomon and Claudine, smashing her respect for them to smithereens during the family imbroglio in Act I.
Via an intriguing flashback/flashpresent device, Naz exposes and illustrates how the family’s shining history becomes obliterated by circumstances in the present “state of the family union,” which has not lived up to their patriarch’s illustrious expectations. Ultimately, Solomon Jasper, too, may be counted as not living up to his own personal expectations, a fact revealed by the conclusion of the second act, which further adds to his hypocrisy for giving Naz a hard time about his sexually, abstemious, personal choices..
With increasing intensity, the upheavals occur by the end of the first act and augment into further revelations and complications well into the second, until the wounds exposed are too great to ignore. Naz’s final synopsis and soulful, poignant comments solidify at the conclusion bringing this family retrospective together. His questioning wisdom leaves us as he is left, wondering what is the trajectory of this once august Jasper legacy, which Naz has chosen not to perpetuate. Not going into politics or the church, Naz selected a career in photography where he communes with nature’s beauty and peace.
Jacobs-Jenkins’ work is filled with contrasts: truth and lies, health and sickness, moral uprightness and moral turpitude. In fact the contrast of the outer image of the Jasper calm and sanctity versus the inner corruption and turmoil becomes evident with Jacobs-Jenkins’ character interactions throughout, heightened by Naz’s confidential asides.
Additionally, this contrast of superficial versus soul depth is superbly factored in by Rashad and Todd Rosenthal’s collaboration on set design. Initially, all is peaceful in their gorgeous home set up by matriarch Claudine Jasper (the excellent Latanya Richardson Jackson). The home’s beauty belies any roiling undercurrents beneath the family’s solid, upright probity. Perfection is their manufactured brand, which Aziza has bought hook, line and sinker as a Jasper fan.
To continue with the Jaspers’ “brand,” the inviting great room boasts a comfortable and lovely open layout-living room and dining room-backed by a curved staircase to the second level of bedrooms off the landing. The dark peach-colored walls are beautifully emphasized with white trim molding. The cherry wood furniture and cream colored sofa color-coordinate with the walls. The sofa is accented with appropriate pillows. Interspersed among furniture pieces are obvious antique heirlooms. Indeed, all is perfect with matching table runners and dining room tablecloth and napkins and dinnerware tastefully selected for its enhancing effect.
Prominently featured is the Jasper family heritage and legacy, a large portrait of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. proudly displayed on the first level, and a lesser portrait of political/cultural heir apparent, Solomon “Sonny” Jasper on the second floor landing. Surrounding the Sonny Jasper portrait are framed photos chronicling the civil rights warriors and family, shining their historical significance. When Aziza first arrives and is welcomed desperately by Claudine who fears Naz’s not bringing any woman home means he is gay, Aziza is gobsmacked by the house. Seeing the portraits and Solomon Jasper, she realizes who Naz really is. She is over the moon slathering blandishments to Sonny. Thrilled, she can’t help but take selfies with the Jaspers to send to her mom, a mutual fan. Naz is beyond humiliated and surreptitiously pleads with her to leave.
What does Naz know about his family that he fears Aziza will discover? If Aziza doesn’t leave quickly, his mother’s hospitality to divine who Aziza is will make sure she stays. Indeed, Jackson’s Claudine never fails in her intentions.
Against the storied backdrop of their illustrious past that Aziza worships, the garish present unfolds at dinner. It is the celebration of Junior’s homecoming and reunion with the family since his thirty month prison stay for embezzling campaign funds. Junior’s behavior is one of the gravest disappointments that Sonny holds against his son. For him it is unforgivable that his namesake who was to take his place has tarnished the Jasper name with corruption.
Thus, when Junior presents a birthday gift to Claudine, of the letters she wrote to him in prison in a lovely book, Sonny scoffs, especially after reading a particularly mundane letter. (Lennix’s reading of a sample letter is hysterical). Then, Sonny questions Junior who wants to exploit their family name and go on tour with the book of Claudine’s letters, and Claudine, lifting up the hellishness of his imprisonment like a martyr.
Ironically, bitterly, humorously, Sonny airs his disgust that Junior would present himself as a Nelson Mandella, as if Junior’s prison experience was in any way equivalent to the horrors of imprisonment used as a tool of oppression and racism throughout US history. Sonny is especially livid because Junior’s crimes ripped off his father and Blacks who supported him. Additionally, the time Junior did was easy because Sonny used his influence to get Junior into “a minimum security playground.” Though it is revealed that Junior has bi-polar disorder, (the scene when Glenn Davis manifests this is superb), Sonny lacks empathy for Junior. He dismisses his illness and says he got caught where other politicians don’t get caught because Junior is stupid.
At dinner the dour Morgan (Alana Arenas), Junior’s wife, sits quietly at first. After Junior uplifts Claudine, Morgan claims neither he nor the Jaspers helped her through Junior’s mental breakdown. Nor does he acknowledge her visiting him through the prison experience with a present. Morgan rips into him and the family. They are “hucksters,” who don’t care about her and “have no sense of responsibility or remorse.” Listening to the Jasper’s accountants, Morgan signed their joint tax returns that implicated her in tax fraud with Junior. She has lost her career and will have to do time in prison for an error that she was ignorant about, trusting the family to not mislead her.
Thus, the artifice gradually peels away, shaped by the characters’ ever increasing digs at each other and Naz’s humorous perspective. To top it off, despite her promise to Naz that she will keep quiet, Aziza reveals how she trusts Naz to be the sperm donor for their child. This piece of information is a stick of dynamite for this religious family who chaffs at unmarried young people sleeping together. Then, when Claudine and Morgan go head to head and Morgan calls the family’s “honesty” into question and accuses Sonny of having “his fiftyleven other kids scattered all over this damn country,” Claudine loses it and gets violent.
Ironically, the act ends with the patriarch blaming Claudine, “I have let you build this house on a foundation of self-deceit.” Sonny loudly declares the time is now for “redemption” and a “new era in this family – a new era of truth! Truth!”
Act II indicates how that “truth” is to come about, as Naz and Aziza argue about why she broke her promise to him. Abashedly, Naz disavows the violence that spilled out between his mother and Morgan. Meanwhile, the verbal and emotional violence has always been an undercurrent in the family that has never confronted their issues. In other words, the dissembling, the lies and the deceit have augmented until “enough is enough.” Aziza, caught up in the fray rethinks what she has seen and no longer has any wish to have Naz’s child from their “illustrious” DNA. Additionally, she has learned not to lionize any other civil rights icon or celebrity easily, again. Celebrities, like the Jaspers, are not saviors or worthy to be made into icons. They have clay feet if you see them up close and personal.
Though the first act sails smoothly, the second act digresses in part with Naz’s extensive dialogue and explanations, which might have been slimmed down. Nevertheless, as we learn about each family member’s complications, the intensity shifts. Though there is less humor, there is incredible poignancy and each of the actors have their moments to shine. Not only do we note the profound aspects of character complexity, we understand the difficulty of attempting to maintain an oversized legacy of greatness when one is an imperfect human being. Indeed, the one who comes out best appears to be Naz, until the conclusion. It is then we understand how the family has impacted him and in response, he has sent himself spinning into his own chaos, which he will have to unravel for himself. So do we all as we deal with our own legacy, heritage and family dysfunction.
Purpose is brilliant, if a tad unwieldy. However, the ensemble cracks sharply like lightening. Rashad has a deep understanding of Jacobs-Jenkins’ themes, dynamic characters, prickly relationships and the sub rosa levels of meaning in the interactions. The pace is lively despite the playwright’s wordiness and keeps the audience engaged.
Kudos to the creative team including those not already mentioned: Dede Ayite (costume design), Amith Chandrashaker (lighting design), Nikiya Mathis (hair & wig design), and Bob Milburn & Michael Bodeen (sound design). Purpose runs two hours fifty minutes with one intermission at the Helen Hayes Theater on 44th between 7th and 8th. https://purposeonbroadway.com/
‘Glengarry Glen Ross’ Starring Kieran Culkin, Bob Odenkirk, Bill Burr
Glengarry Glen Ross
Glengarry Glen Ross, David Mamet’s Pulitzer-prize winning treatise on rapacious, capitalist indecency is currently in its third revival at the spacious Palace Theatre on Broadway. Because of audience enthusiasm for a celebrity bro-fest, starring Kieran Culkin (Succession), Bob Odenkirk (Better Call Saul), comedian Bill Burr, who is making his Broadway debut, and clever ironist Michael McKean of the cult hit This is Spinal Tap, Glengarry Glenn Ross has been extended two weeks until June 28th. Judging by the jeers and raucous laughter at the characters’ non-stop, insulting, verbal sword play, the production directed by Patrick Marber (Closer) is a success.
With scenic design by Scott Pask, Mamet’s timeless, horrifically current, two-act drama divides between an unbusy Chinese restaurant in the first act, and in the second act, the robbery-devastated, real estate office where the characters attempt unsuccessfully to make “a living” and deliver their finalized sales contracts. The brief, first act is the set up for the second act where the emotional explosion occurs and the revelations stun because of Mamet’s clever misdirection throughout.
The Chinese restaurant represents the off-site, safe place where furtive deals might be made between the real estate salesmen and others. The three two-hander scenes, taking place one after the other, reveal the salesmen who succeed or fail under the oppression of a “dog-eat-dog” system that values money and material wealth as the only measure of human success, a pathetic blind they’ve fallen for.
Thus, thematically, as these individuals get ground up, drained of their identity and humanity in a process that de-masculinizes them, we note they become more aggressive, desperate and verbally explosive, as they confront failure by the play’s conclusion.
First, we meet Shelley Levene (Bob Odenkirk), who gaslights his office manager boss John Williamson (Donald Webber, Jr.), about his poor sales performance. Shelley hopes to mitigate the inevitable, being canned. So, he persuades John to give him the great leads that sell themselves. Despite Shelley’s oily patter and insistence to be “heard,” as he recalls his past glory days as ‘The Machine,” John directly tells Shelley that he hasn’t had a recent successful sale. He is at the bottom and ripe for firing because he is nowhere near being put on the board to compete to win the Cadillac offered as a gift to incentivize the men’s sales productivity.
Failing to convince John to “have a heart” about his losing streak that he claims is ending, Odenkirk’s Shelley suggests a quid pro quo. In exchange for a few premium leads, he will cut in John on a kickback of his sales. Not only does John “take the bait,” he calls Shelley’s bluff. He demands more money and payment up front which Shelley, of course, can’t afford. Interestingly, we note the sliminess of the exchanges and the abuse each man takes from the other in a devaluation of their humanity and decency in their struggle for the “all mighty dollar,” whose pursuit enslaves them and destroys their souls.
Webber, Jr. and Odenkirk are terrific in their focus, direction and pacing as they reveal these archetypes who are caught in a battle of wills where there is no ultimate winner.
The irony is that Williamson’s desk job is lower paying and requires little risk and a different skill set than Levene’s, who must sell worthless property to unsuspecting buyers. Both are on different levels entirely and they are blind to it. Without empathy for each other, they allow themselves to be overlorded by the unseen master entrepreneurs “Mitch and Murray,” who are the god-like downtown owners of the slime pit, real estate enterprise.
The overlords keep their charges in line through division, making sure all understand that performance is everything and competition against one another is the best way to shine. Those who can’t keep closing are fired, nothing personal. In spite of the vapid callousness his position requires, John makes sure the “operational daily grinding up of the men into mincemeat” continues smoothly. He is his owner’s loyal employee. Thus, he dead-ends Shelley’s kick-back offer and their conversation.
From this dead-end conversation between Levene and Williamson, Mamet moves to the next staccato dialogue between disgruntled, carping Dave Moss (Bill Burr), and laconic George Aaronow (Michael McKean). Both are terrific in humorous performances which reveal their mastery at their craft. Moss attempts to engage George to steal the premium leads that sell themselves which we’ve heard about in the previous scene. After their theft, Moss plans to sell them to a competitor of “Mitch and Murray” and give half the proceeds to George. Thus, on another level it’s “every man for himself” and the competition that Mitch and Murray stuff down their charges’ throats, Moss, who has had enough, plans to stuff down Mitch and Murray’s. Karma is a bitch in this world of anger, aggression and money.
Interestingly, with matter-of-fact irony, the “innocent” Moss anticipates that confiding in George about his gambit as a co-conspirator will be accepted by the laid back, stolid George. However, because the deal is a shady crime, Moss could be double crossing George about the amount of money he gets from the competitor. Not only would George not be able to countermand any cheating, he could end up “going up the river” if Moss decides to turn him over and disavow any participation in the theft. Moss’ proposition is a desperate one. Mamet indirectly suggests that the oppressive system, corrupt in itself, then provokes men to commit crimes to circumvent the inequitable set up rigged against them. If McKean’s George doesn’t pay attention to divine all the ramifications, he will trap himself, like Moss has been trapped.
When George realizes what Moss is after, none of the risk and half of the reward, which surely Moss will skim to his liking, McKean’s George avers. Moss, with dead seriousness that is also funny, implies that now, George is forced to steal the leads; he has no choice. By listening, he is an accomplice after the fact. Ironically, Moss uses his skills of persuasion to dupe a colleague in a contorted competitive strategem to get to the top.
With this sleight-of-hand, Mamet leaves the conversation “up in the air.” Will the exhausted, deadened George do what Moss wants him to, or will he assert his own will and avoid the trap, thus most probably losing his job, because he, too, hasn’t been on a winning streak and has no sales to stop the inevitable.
In the last exchange the dialogue shifts to the smooth, unadulterated, force and charm of the Ricky Roma (Kieran Culkin) sales pitch on his mark James Lingk (John Pirruccello). If the two previous scenes reveal desperate salesmen at the edge of the cliff of their humanity and identity, believing in the values of the system which cast them as suckers, failures and losers, Ricky Roma (Kiernan Culkin), proves to be the opposite.
In contrast Mamet shows why Roma succeeds as a salesman who the others resent. Additionally, he reveals why the premium leads that the others crave will only go to Roma as a closer and Cadillac winner. His approach with his mark is obvious. With Lingk he has identified a vulnerable, emasculated male who life has kicked around so furiously he wears as his cloak of apology and embarrassment as his outward demeanor. The real estate he sells, Roma cleverly converts to a concept, an experience of hope, a wonderful opportunity Lingk may have been waiting for his entire life. Roma presents the property as a salve that will soothe Lingk’s life humiliations.
However, to prep Lingk to receive this life turning experience, Roma frees Pirruccello’s Lingk from the obvious middle class morality that appears to have held him in. He absolves him of his deepest, darkest amoral longings only known to him.
Roma’s approach is gobsmacking. Here’s a winner to be reckoned with whose skills are exceptional and admirable. We would easily, willingly be duped by him. Yes, unlike the other whiners and weak-willed complainers, Roma is a closer who deserves the Cadillac. Along with Lingk, Mamet’s Roma has hooked us. We normalize the perverse values of this indecent unholy enterprise that is the backbone of the real estate industry as well as any industry that introduces a fabulous product but falls short of its promises.
Roma’s monologue is brilliantly written and I found it difficult to get Al Pacino’s portrayal in the titular 1992 film out of my mind. There’s an intimate intensity that must be conveyed, a confessional nature that engages Lingk so that he finds Roma’s sincerity and the hope he sells irresistible. The intensity, intimacy and sly seduction necessary for the sale was missing in Caulkin’s Roma. I do think that Caulkin might have been better served if the director positioned him seated in the same banquette as Pirruccello’s Lingk from the outset. Instead, Calkin’s Roma leans over the banquette and the intimacy that should exist between them falters.
In the first act Mamet sets up the stakes. The second act presents the payoff settling this masterpiece into a tragicomedy. The results of what the system has wrought in promoting the misery, torment and criminal behavior upturns the office. John’s “perfectly seamless environment” explodes. There is mess everywhere, and everyone loses, most of all Mitch and Murray. The power dynamic heightens between Caulkin’s Roma and Webber, Jr.’s John, as well as the dynamic between Shelley and John. In these scenes the actors are superlative.
Criminality has run amuck, starting from the top of the system on down, and all are its victims, even the detective (Howard W. Overshown), who must find the perpetrator to make himself relevant. As the gloves come off, Mamet ties in the humanity behind the desperation in the life of the one who stole the leads. The horror is that money has become the arbiter of life and death in this system where to get ahead, one must dupe, deceive, harm, then be inured to one’s own egregious actions, as if they are justified because you need money to live and a ton of money to prosper and live well. (Think of the CEO Brian Thompson of UnitedHealthcare.) Roma goes off to the restaurant after telling John that he and Shelley are teaming up and he is taking a part of Shelley’s commissions. Of course, John says nothing, allowing Roma’s greed to trap him as Roma is ignorant of Shelley’s circumstances.
Glengarry Glenn Ross works in this revival because its overarching themes are timeless. The acting and direction superbly emphasizes the authenticity of the characters’ desperation, exhaustion, and zombie-rat state, running in their own wheels, unable to stop themselves. Yes, even the shining Roma by the conclusion has been done in by the situation and his overconfidence in his skills.
Mamet emphasizes that in the system, whether you project that it is capitalism or economic totalitarianism, pity is a weakness and empathy is for chumps, not for closers. This is the perfect world that has birthed the current miasma that Donald Trump as a symbolic Mitch and Murray embraces and would foster, making all into his slavish subjects.
Of course, such a world doesn’t work seamlessly nor successfully, and if anything, nothing works in it much of the time. That the play concludes with all the players wiping dreck off their faces, including Mitch and Murray, who have lost their profits in a breach of security to their competitor, should be a lesson all the characters learn. But they don’t because they don’t reflect on their lives. They are too busy whining, being oppressed and making money to recognize they are going nowhere having been nowhere valuable or worthwhile when all is said and done.
Kudos to lighting designer Jen Schriever and the creative team already mentioned. Glengarry Glenn Ross is a must-see for the performances and to appreciate this early Mamet work. Apparently, he has since come to embrace the Mitch and Murrays of the world in what may only be intimated as Stockholm Syndrome.
Glengarry Glenn Ross runs 1 hour 45 minutes with a 15-minute intermission at the Palace Theatre on 47th Street. https://www.glengarryonbroadway.com/?gclsrc=aw.ds&gad_source=1
‘Tammy Faye,’ Starring Olivier-winner Katie Brayben in a Thematically Charged Musical
Tammy Faye
Tammy Faye, with music by Elton John, lyrics by Jake Shears and book by James Graham stars theater heavyweights Katie Brayben, Christian Borle and Michael Cerveris. All of them are letter perfect in the roles of Tammy Faye Bakker, Jim Bakker and Jerry Falwell. Considering that the show is about the rise and fall of the hugely successful PTL Christian network headed up by televangelists Tammy Faye Bakker and Jim Bakker, the production’s chronicle of a complex period in America’s sociopolitical and religious history is ambitious. Currently at the newly renovated Palace Theatre, Tammy Faye runs until December 8th.
For some, the production is hard to swallow. This is unfortunate because its themes are vitally connected to our country. Also, it is a satiric, entertaining new musical whose theatricality coheres in director Rupert Goold’s vision shepherding a fine ensemble and creative technical team. Because I have a familiarity with the Christian evangelical church and, in fact, went to the same church that Jessica Hahn went to during the PTL scandal, and knew and spoke to her, I have a different perspective. Arguably, I may be biased in favor of the musical. That must be considered when reading this review.
With choreography by Lynne Page and Tom Deering’s music supervision, arrangements and additional music, Tammy Faye presents a fascinating picture of individuals who currently are not held in high esteem. Only one comes out on top as James Graham’s book characterizes her and as the phenomenal voice and acting chops of Katie Brayben performs her. Singing from a core of emotion and heart, illustrating Tammy Faye’s trials of faith, Brayben belts out numbers that overshadow the real Tammy Faye’s voice. These high-points in Tammy Faye’s emotional journey include “Empty Hands,” “In My Prime Time,” and “If You Came to See Me Cry.”
Katie Brayben gives a bravura performance
During these dynamic and compelling songs, Brayben’s Tammy Faye reveals the depth and impact of her betrayal by husband Jim Bakker, as she attempts to find a way forward for and by herself. Not to be underestimated, Tammy Faye is a maverick among the Christian women of the church, a portrayal that we see time and again as she speaks out, despite Christian pastors trying to shut her up. Sharing her opinion at a conference with Billy Graham (Mark Evans), in a beginning flashback of “how it all began,” we note her courage at a time when women took a back seat to any form of leadership. Billy Graham encourages her as the new generation of spiritual warriors in front of a patriarchal, oppressive, conservative group of pastors.
From then on we see her emerge despite being dismissed by the pastors who become the hypocritical villains of Tammy Faye and who sadly lead the way for the massive hypocrisy present in the white supremacist leaning evangelical church today. The Falwell types and white supremacist pastors turn a blind eye to the bullying hatreds and criminality of the MAGA movement they undergird in supporting Donald Trump. Trump’s controversial presidency is in his violating the tenets of Christianity and patriotism. Indeed, he is an alleged pedophile consorting with friend Jeffrey Epstein. He is Putin’s asset who has undermined our election processes twice, and most probably cheated and defrauded the American voter to elicit a “win,” in 2024 (see the Mark Thompson Show on YouTube). He adheres to Putin’s guidance regarding NATO, and on a personal note to emphasize his “godliness,” he’s a lying adulterer and admitted sexual predator (the Hollywood access tape), many times over, in cover ups much worse than Jim Bakker ever committed.
Tammy Faye reveals how we got to the current politics of evangelism
Importantly, for those who would understand how the US “got here” with the rise of evangelism and a brand of political Christianity that belies the true tenets of Jesus Christ’s sermon on the mount, and “Love thy neighbor as thyself,” Tammy Faye gives a crash course in hypocritical Christianity that is right out of St. Paul’s letters to the hypocritical church in Corinthians I and II. It’s interesting to note that over two thousand years later, nothing changes much. Judgment, criticism and condemnation are alive in the human heart and in venues that are supposed to be uplifting the opposite and preaching Christ’s message of love.
Goold stages the production with scenic designer Bunny Christie’s “Hollywood Square” back screen and other projections (video design by Finn Ross), to emphasize the importance of TV to the rise of global evangelism in the 1970s to the present. When the PTL live program is not being taped with dancers and singers, other scenes reflect the importance of satellite TV in the square/screen motif in which appear the various players. Always present as a backdrop are the TV screens reflected in the grid of boxes strikingly lit by Neil Austin that represent what obsesses the actions of the preachers, the Bakkers and their employees (“Satellite of God”). The electric church was televised globally via satellite and its reach was and is expansive, though the screens became smaller on phones after streaming WiFi.
In its symbolism and its wayward themes of church leaders and politicians making damaging and unconstitutional bedfellows, Tammy Faye does its job perfectly, thanks to its creatives. And for that it has received its due misplaced disgust at a time in our nation when Americans have no more patience for hypocrites, scammers and thieves, especially those who profess “Christianity” and lie, cheat, steal, condemn, oppress, restrict, torment and insult as their brand of fun and sanctimony. Hello, Speaker Mike Johnson, Jim Jordan and JD Vance. Nevertheless, Tammy Faye is a vital musical of the time and should be seen for Elton John’s striking music, its irony in how the hypocrites dance around their own lies, and its themes which are more current than ever.
Graham’s book elucidates a version of PTL worthy of note
Book writer James Graham elucidates a version of what happened with PTL that is worthy of note. Laying the blame on the inability of the Christian Church to be united under the first two commandments that Christ preached (love God, love your neighbor as yourself), Graham reveals how Tammy Faye tried to bring disparate groups together with love, but failed. Additionally, to that point, if Tammy Faye had been part of the back room financial arrangements, the fraudulent situation with Heritage Village might not have gotten completely out of hand (“God’s House/Heritage USA”). Indeed, Heritage Village was Jim Bakker’s idea, and clearly, its idea development was mishandled and mismanaged.
Finally, we note that Jim Bakker, whose feckless leadership causes their collapse when he relinquishes PTL and the TV network to Jerry Falwell. With smiling duplicity and treachery, Falwell promises to help the Bakkers get on their feet again and pay their expenses. Tammy Faye warns Jim not to listen to Falwell whom she has always distrusted and deemed a self-serving, condemnatory, hypocritical preacher of hate. Tammy Faye’s unheeded warning proves correct. With his lies, misinformation and mischaracterizations, Falwell upends any goodness the Bakkers accomplish, defames them publicly, and kicks them out of the Christian fellowship for the “good” of the conservative church and himself.
The difference between preachers and preachers
The book underscores the difference between Tammy Faye and Jim, and the other preachers from conservative churches. Falwell (a dynamic Cerveris), Jimmy Swaggart (Ian Lassiter), Pat Robertson (Andy Taylor) and Marvin Gorman (Max Gordon Moore), demean Tammy Faye and Jim Bakker’s way of bringing people to the Gospel. They tolerate them, believing they will fail and are surprised and shocked at their success. Falwell’s massive ego can’t bear to see another preacher in his sphere of influence doing better than he. Not only does Falwell compete for viewership, he goes on their program and insults them attempting to send a message to church goers that they are not of God.
The turning point comes at the prodding of Ted Turner (Andy Taylor), who is concerned about PTL’s finances plummeting because of overspending. Part of the reason Turner suggests the program needs an uplift is because the love and charisma in Tammy and Jim’s relationship has cooled and viewers sense something is wrong. Even friends Paul Crouch (Nick Bailey) and Jan Crouch (Allison Guinn) warn them. At this point in time Tammy has learned of Jim’s infidelity with Jessica Hahn (Alana Pollard), and though he repeatedly asks for forgiveness, Tammy finds it difficult. Increasingly, she relies on prescription pain medicine to anesthetize herself which staff preacher, John Fletcher (Raymond J. Lee), sometimes gives her.
When Tammy strikes out on her own without Jim to carry a show, she draws greater audience viewership which Ted Turner praises. In a heartfelt satellite interview, she speaks with gay pastor Steve Pieters (Charl Brown), about having AIDS. Her public action is courageous. She hugs Steve and accepts him with love into Christ’s fellowship, an anathema to conservative Christianity which condemns gays and believes AIDS is God’s punishment for their sinful homosexuality.
A meeting sealing the fate of PTL
Falwell and the other ministers have a confidential meeting and Falwell even phones President Ronald Reagan (Ian Lassiter), who never acknowledged or worked to stem the AIDS crisis, despite having a gay son and working with gays when he was an actor. Of course, Reagan’s hypocrisy and need for the evangelical church to endorse him is why he speaks to Falwell. In another inflection point, we see the division between church and state morph into an unholy matrimony of religious politicos washing each other’s hands despite the historically traditional separation between church and state.
Thus, Reagan’s public uplifting of the evangelical community via Falwell and others provokes a sea change in the sociopolitical and cultural direction of the nation. The growing intrusion of religion into politics becomes the foundation of constitutional human rights’ reversals seen today, which are particularly uplifted in MAGA states.
Reagan and conservative evangelism, for the voting block-merging church and state
With Reagan in their corner, conservative religious leadership agrees that PTL is moving in an unGodly direction. Falwell and the other preachers see the Bakkers are headed for disaster and they give them a push when the opportunity arises. For example, they get prominent PTL member John Fletcher to turn on Bakker. He sets up Bakker with Hahn, then leaks information when Falwell threatens to expose him of his “infidelities” with gay men if he doesn’t play ball. Falwell also tips off the Charlotte Observer whose reporter Charles Shepard (Mark Evans), investigates the financial arrangements of PTL and finds them to be indebted and insolvent. The situation boils over in “Don’t Let There Be Light.” Tammy, Jim and Jerry recognize their shameful actions and pray that they will not be exposed.
Of course, they are all exposed and vilified by the press and other church leaders. One humorous scene involves Pope John Paul II (Andy Taylor), Mormon leader (Thomas S. Monson), and Archbishop of Canterbury (Ian Lassiter), staged in window squares raised to a higher level above the stage ironically. From their lofty positions, they comment on the troubles of the “electric church” and the Bakkers. Meanwhile, elements of the same unloving hypocrisy are present in their congregations. The pederasty, pedophilia and horrific abuse of the Catholic church is yet to be revealed by the Boston Globe and is still being revealed in the Irish Madeline Laundries and Mother and Baby Homes. Certainly, the church memberships fall off in the Mormon Church and the Church of England. Congregants loathe the leaderships’ hypocrisy.
Acting hate not love
Falwell, Robertson, et. al., end up backbiting each other with hate and jealously. A desperate Bakker, beyond Tammy’s counsel, gives the PTL reigns to Falwell after Tammy learns Jim paid hush money to Jessica Hahn. The scandal widens the more the Bakkers give interviews to defend their positions. In Falwell’s hands, PTL goes bankrupt and is closed down. Tammy divorces Jim and other pastors’ infidelities are exposed as Bakker ends up in jail (“Look How Far We’ve Fallen”). The biased judge ridiculously throws the book at Bakker when murderers are even given lighter sentences.
Eventually, the conservative hypocritical Falwell and Pat Robertson follow in Reagan’s footsteps and run for the presidency. Indeed, their great piety is a sham as they attempt to vault their notoriety to the White House and reap untold rewards, but fail. Unlike Donald Trump who has defrauded his way there again with the treasonous help of various conservative think tanks, True the Vote’s voter challenges in Georgia, voter suppression in swing states, Elon Musk and Putin, Falwell and Robertson’s reputations preceded them and they were rejected as candidates.
Nevertheless, the evangelical Christian movement had an established foothold in politics. The country then wasn’t ready for a conservative, religious president. Now, the MAGAS, building on white supremacists and overturning Reagan’s legacy, have evolved to the point that with Putin’s foreign interference paying influencers to promote misinformation, Trump has become their acceptable, religious MAGA god/autocrat. Despite what Trump/MAGAS/Putin and a complicit press would have voters and the world believe that Trump received “great” voting support, over half the voting public of both parties doesn’t agree with MAGA/Trump’s religious, conservative, oppressive and autocratically unconstitutional mandates. Most probably, if there had been a recount, the results would have revealed otherwise. Better to let sleeping MAGAS, Trump, Putin and others lie.
Favorable reviews in London, bad timing in Manhattan
The show, which originated two years ago at the Almeida Theater in London, received favorable reviews. Opening here at the time it did proved unfortunate because of its subject, a conservative evangelical church, now associated with Donald Trump: a twice impeached, three times indicted, one time convicted criminal, who attempted to overthrow the 2020 election with some of their help via militias and the support of Clarence Thomas’ wife Ginni Thomas.
From Reagan and Falwell and PTL televangelism to the racist, xenophobic, misogynist, MAGA Christianity of today, the conservative brand of evangelicalism has blossomed into “acceptable” white supremacy, oppression, hellfire condemnation and tyranny toward other religions and people of color. Is there any wonder that Tammy Faye, opening around the 2024 election, is a brutal and noisome reminder of what lies, misinformation and money do for those in power, who stir up hate, work unconstitutionally and divide even their own believers from patriotism and the love of God?
Important takeaways
Positive takeaways are the show’s performances which are sterling, especially the leads. The technical team under Goold’s guidance manifests his vision for the production. The book glosses over a complicated series of events (one of which never shows the other side of Jessica Hahn’s professed “virginal innocence,” nor the role her Long Island pastor played in strong-arming the PTL board to pay her hush money).
However, the production does manage to portray one individual, regardless of her psychic flaws, who preached love instead of messages of hate and condemnation (“See you in Heaven”). Tammy Faye did this at a time when standing up for individuals with AIDS was anathema to the general public, let alone Christians. Hers was a courageous, heartfelt stance as an independent Christian church woman. who, alone, went out on a limb to mirror God’s love and show how Christians were supposed to support and help one another.
I heartily recommend this production, especially for those who are interested to understand how evangelism became involved with our politics, despite the supposed separation of church and state. Tammy Faye runs at the Palace Theatre with one intermission until December 8th. https://tammyfayebway.com/?gad_source=1 It’s a shame it is closing so soon.
‘Sunset Blvd.’ A Thrilling, Edgy, Mega Spectacle, Starring Nicole Scherzinger
If you have seen A Doll’s House with Jessica Chastain, Cyrano de Bergerac with James McAvoy or Betrayal with Tom Hiddleston, you know that director Jamie Lloyd’s dramatic approach reimagining the classics is to present an unencumbered stage and few or no props. The reason is paramount. He focuses his vision on the actors’ characters, and their steely, maverick interpretation of the playwright’s dialogue. The actors and dialogue are the theatricality of the drama. Why include extraneous distractions? Using this elusively spare almost spiritual approach which is archetypal and happens in what appears to be pure, electrified consciousness, Lloyd is a throwback to ancient Greek theater, which used few if any sets. As such Lloyd’s reimagining of the magnificently performed, uncluttered, cinematically live spectacle, Sunset Blvd., currently at the St. James Theatre in its second Broadway revival, is a marvel to behold.
The original production, with music by Andrew Lloyd Webber and book and lyrics by Don Black and Christoper Hampton, opened in 1993. Lloyd’s reimagining configures the musical on a predominately black “box” stage that appears cavernous. Soutra Gilmour’s black costumes (with white accessories, belts, Joe’s T-shirt), are carried through to the black backdrop whose projection, at times, is white light against which the actors/dancers gyrate and dance as shadow figures. The white mists and clouds of fog ethereally appear white in contrast to the background. There is one stark exception of blinding color (no spoiler, sorry), toward the last scene of the musical.
As a result, David Cullen and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s orchestrations under Alan Williams’ music supervision/direction sonorously played by the 19 piece orchestra are a standout. The gorgeous, memorable music is a character in itself, one of the points of Lloyd’s stunning production. From the overture to the heightened conclusion, the music carries tragedy lushly, operatically in a fascinating accompaniment/contrast to Lloyd’s spare, highly stylized rendering. On stage there are just the actors, their figures, voices and looming faces, which shine or spook shadows, sinister in the dim light. The immense faces of the main four characters in black and white, like the silent film stars, gleam or horrify. The surreal, hallucinatory effect even abides when the actors/dancers stand in the spotlights, or the towers of LED lights, or huddle in a dance circle as the cinematographer films close-ups thanks to Nathan Amzi & Joe Ransom.
The symbolism of the staging and selection of colors is open to many interpretations, including a ghostly haunting of the of the Hollywood era, which still impacts us today, persisting with some of the most duplicitous values, memes, behaviors and abuses. These are connected to the billion dollar weight loss industry, the medical (surgery and big pharma) industry, the fashion and cosmetics industry, and more. The noxious values referenced include ageism, appearance fascism (unreal concepts of beauty and fashion for women that promote pain, chemical dependence and prejudice), voracious, self-annihilating ambitions, sexual youth exploitation, sexual predation and much more. Lloyd’s stark and austere iteration of Sunset Blvd. promotes such themes that the dazzling full bore set design, etc., drains of meaning via distraction and misdirection.
The narrative is the same. Down and out studio writer Joe Gillis (the exceptional, winsome, authentic Tom Francis), to avoid goons sent to repossess his car, escapes onto the grounds of a dilapidated mansion on the famed Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. In the driveway, manservant Max (an incredible David Thaxton), mistakes him for someone else and invites him inside. There, Joe meets Norma Desmond (the divine hellion Nicole Scherzinger), a faded icon of the silent screen era in the throes of mania. Norma is “lovingly,” stoked by Max into the delusion that thousands of fans want her to return to her glory days in a new film.
When Norma hears Joe is a screenwriter, like a spider with a fly, she traps him to finish her “come-back” film (she wrote the screenplay). Thus, for champagne, caviar and the thrill of it, he stays, lured by the promise of money, the glamour of old Hollywood and the avoidance of debt collectors. As Norma grows dependent on Joe as her gigolo, he ends up falling for the lovely, unadulterated Betty (the fine, sweet, Grace Hodgett Young). Behind Norma’s back, Joe and Betty collaborate on a script and fall in love. The lies and romance end with the tragic truth.
The seemingly empty stage, tower of lights, spotlights for Norma and live streaming camera closeups projected on the back wall screen, Lloyd is the antithesis of the average director, whose vision focuses on lustrous set design and elaborate costumes and props. In Lloyd’s consciousness-raising universe such gaudy commercialism gaslights away from revealing anything novel or intriguing in the meat of this play’s themes or characterizations, which ultimately excoriate the culture with social commentary.
Soutra Gilmour’s set design and related costumes unmistakenly lay bare the narcissism and twisted values the entertainment industry promotes so that we see the destructive results in the interplay between Max, the indulged Norma and the hapless victim Joe, who tries a scam of his own which fails. Ultimately, all is psychosis, illusions and broken dreams turned into black hallucinations. For a parallel, current example, think of an indulged politician who wears bad make-up that under hot lights makes his face melt like Silly Putty. Again, hallucinations, psychosis, narcissism, egotism that is dangerous and ravenous and never satisfied. Such is the stuff insufferable divas are made of.
In the portrayal of the former Hollywood icon who has faded from the public spotlight and become a recluse, in scene three, when Lloyd presents Gillis meeting Desmond, she is the schizoid goddess and Gorgon radiating her own sunlight via Jack Knowles’ powerful, gleaming spotlights and shimmering lighting design, the only “being” worth looking at against the black background. Throughout, Norma possesses the cavernous space of the stage in surround-view black with white mists jetting out from stage left or right, forming symbolic clouds and fog representing her imagined “divinity” and her confused, fogged-over, abject psychotic hallucinations.
Whenever she “brings forth” from her consciousness “on high,” and empowers her fantasies in song, Lloyd has Knowles bathe her lovingly in a vibrant spotlight. When she emerges from the depths of her bleak mansion of sorrows to sing, “Surrender,” “With One Look,” and later, “As if We Never Said Goodbye,” she brings down the house with a standing ovation. Indeed, Norma Desmond is an immortal. She worships her imagined self at her alter of tribute. Her mammoth consciousness and ethos which Max (Thaxton’s incredible, equally magnificent, hollow-eyed, ghoulish, former husband and current director/keeper of her flaming divinity), perpetuates is key in the tragedy that is her life.
Importantly, Lloyd’s maverick, spare, stripped down approach gives the actors free reign to dig out the core of their characters and materialize their truth. In this musical, the black “empty” stage allows Scherzinger’s Norma to be the primal, raging diva who “will not surrender” to oblivion and death. She is a a god. Like the Gorgon Medusa, she will kill you as soon as look at you. And don’t anyone tell her the truth that she is a “has been.”
Of course, Joe does this out of a kindness that she refuses to accept. Without the black and white design, and cinematic streaming, a nod to the silent screen, which allows us to focus on faces, performances, magnified gestures and looks, the meanings become unremarkable. The theme-those who speak the truth must die/be killed because the deluded psychotic can’t hear truth-gains preeminence and Lloyd’s archetypal production gives witness to its timelessness. In her most unnuanced form, Norma is a dictator who must be obeyed and worshiped. Such narcissistic sociopaths must be pampered with lies.
Thus, in the last scene, Scherzinger’s Norma stands in bloody regalia as the spiritual devourer who has just annihilated reality and punished Joe. She is permissively allowed to do so by Max, who like a director, encourages her to star in her own tragedy, as he destroys her and himself. As Joe narrates in the flashback from beyond the grave, he expiates his soul’s mistakes with his cleansing confession, as he emphasizes a timeless object lesson.
From a theatrical perspective, the dramatic tension and forward momentum lies with Lloyd’s astute, profound shepherding of the actors in an illusory space. This becomes a fluid field which can shift flexibly each night, revealed when Joe, et. al run in circles and criss-cross the stage wildly. Expressionistic haunting, the foggy mists, the surrounding black stage walls, black costumes, the barefoot diva-hungrily filling up the spotlight-the shadowy figures, all suggest floating cultural nightmares. These the brainwashing “entertainment” industry for decades forces upon its fans to consume their waking moments with fear, the fear of aging, fear of failure, fear of destitution, fear of not being loved, fear of being alone. Many of these fears are conveyed in the songs, and dance numbers in Fabian Aloise’s choreography.
And yet, when the protagonist takes control of the black space of the stage around her, we understand how this happens. She is mesmerizing, hypnotic. Seduced by what we perceive is gorgeousness, we don’t see the terror, panic and mania beneath the shining surface. Instead, we are drawn as if she indomitably, courageously stands at the edge of the universe and asserts her being. In all of her growing insanity, we admire her persistence in driving toward her desire to be remembered and worshiped. Though it may not be in the medium she wishes, her provocations and Max’s love and loyalty help her achieve this dream, albeit, an infamous one, by the conclusion, as gory and macabre as Lloyd ironically makes it. Indeed, by the end her hallucination devours her.
Sunset Blvd is a sardonic send up of old Hollywood’s pernicious cruelty and savagery in how it ground up its employees (“Let’s Have Lunch,” Aloise’s brilliant factory town, conveyor belt choreography, referencing the cynical deadening of Joe’s dreams), and how it made its movie star icons into caricatures that bound their souls in cages of time and youth. Also, it is a drop down into tropes of cinema today in its penchant for horror, psychosis and the macabre, represented by Lloyd’s phenomenal creative team which elucidates this in the color scheme, mists, and starkly hyper-drive, electric atmosphere and movement.
Finally, in one of the most engaging, and exuberantly ironic segments filmed live, right before Act II, when Joe sings Sunset Blvd. with wry, humorous majesty, Tom Francis merges the character with himself as a Broadway/entertainment industry actor. During a live-recorded journey unveiling backstage “reality,” Francis/Joe moves downstairs, inside the bowels of the theater and in the actors’ spaces, so we see the actors’ view, from the stairwell to dressing rooms. Then Francis moves out onto 44th Street, joined by the chorus to eventually move back inside the theater and on stage where they finish singing “Sunset Blvd,” in a thematic parallel of Broadway and Hollywood. Broadway with its wicked inclination to sacrifice art for dollars, truth for commercialism with insane ticket prices, is the same if not worse than Hollywood, until now with AI fueling Amazon, Apple, Google, etc.
However, Broadway came first and spawned the movie industry, which poached actors from “the great white way.” Lloyd clearly makes the connection that the self-destructive dangers of the entertainment industry are the same, whether stage, screen, TV or Tik Tok. The competing themes are fascinating and the lightening strike into the “reality of backstage theater,” refreshes with funny split-second vignettes. For example, Francis peeks into Thaxton’s dressing room. Humorously merging with his character Max, Thaxton ogles a photo of the Pussycat Dolls taped to his mirror. Scherzinger was a former member of the global, best-selling music group (The Pussycat Dolls).
As Lloyd’s most expressionistic pared down, superbly technical extravaganza to date, every thrilling moment holds dynamic feeling, sharply illustrated for maximum impact. As an apotheosis of rage when her gigolo lover speaks the truth that dare not be spoken, Scherzinger’s Desmond becomes primal, a banshee, a Gorgon, a Medea who “refuses to surrender” to the idea that Hollywood, a treasured lover, like Jason, abandoned her for new goddesses.
With cosmic rage Scherzinger releases every, living, fiery nerve of vengeance to destroy the who and what that she can never believe. Meanwhile, Max, her evil twin, with clever prestidigitation, in one final act of loyalty to protect her febrile, mad, entangled imagination, has her get ready for the cameras and close-up, despite Joe’s tell-tale gore on her “black slip,” face and hands, which the media can feed off of like flies. No matter, she sucks up all the spotlight hungrily, clueless she will share a solitary room in a padded sell with no one in a prison for the mentally insane. Perhaps.
This revival should not be missed. Sunset Blvd. with one intermission, two hours 35 minutes is at the St. James Theatre until March 22, 2025 https://sunsetblvdbroadway.com/?gad_source=1
‘Our Town’ Starring Jim Parsons, Katie Holmes, Richard Thomas in a Superb, Highly Current Revival
Part of the magic of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town is its great simplicity. In Jim Parsons’ (Stage Manager), facile, relaxed, direct addresses to the audience lie the profound themes and templates of our lives. The revival of Our Town directed by Kenny Leon with a glittering cast of renowned film, TV and stage actors, reinforces the currency and vitality of Wilder’s focus on human lives, and the seconds, minutes, hours and days human beings strike fire then are extinguished forever, eventually forgotten as the universe spins away from itself. A play about the cosmic journey of stars and their particle parts in human form in a small representational town on earth, Our Town is iconic. Leon’s iteration of this must see production runs at the Ethel Barrymore Theater until January 19th.
The three act play is in its fifth Broadway revival since the play premiered in the 1930s. This most quintessential of American plays appeared on Broadway when the United States was in the tail end of the Depression during a period of isolationism, and concepts about Eugenics from American researchers had been adopted by the Third Reich to effect their legal platform for genocide. At a curious turning point in American history before a conflict to come, Wilder’s work about life and death in small town Grovers Corners in the fiercely independent state of New Hampshire represented a symbolic microcosm of life everywhere. Perhaps, the play’s themes, especially in the third act were a harbinger, and a warning. In its theme, “we must appreciate life with every breath,” was prescient because WWII was coming to remove millions in a devastation that was incalculable, noted by many as the “deadliest conflict in human history.”
Despite its stark ending and in your face “memento mori,” Wilder’s play found and finds an appreciative audience because of its universality and unabashed assertions about our mortality, walking unconsciousness, and refusal to remain “awake” to the preciousness of our lives.
Indeed, the play has continued to be widely read and performed globally in commercial theater, as well as educational institutions. Leon’s production is no less riveting than other revivals and is even more elucidating and vital in its stylistic dramatic urgency. This is especially so at this point in time, at the eve of a crucial period in our body politic, when we are deciding between two pathways. Do we want to continue to uphold the inexorable verities expressed in Wilder’s themes about living with as much equanimity as possible in a democratic nation that respects the peaceful transfer of power as Grovers Corners symbolizes in Leon’s production? Or do we jettison the rule of law, and the peaceful transfer of power in the US Constitution for a dictatorship in which not all lives are equal or valuable but one life must be bowed down to unequivocally?
Leon’s direction stands in with the former, primarily in the production’s inclusiveness of a diverse group of actors representing Grover’s Corner’s accepting, and non judgmental townsfolk as they go about their business. The business of being human, Wilder divides into three segments (Daily Life, Love and Marriage, Death). Through the omnipotent Stage Manager, which Jim Parsons portrays with a low-key, pleasant avuncular and philosophical style, we quiver at his ironic, pointed rendering of life on this planet.
At the top of the play, the brisk, time-conscious stage manager, after detailing the ancient geological foundation of Grovers Corners, introduces us to the two families which Wilder highlights throughout the play to note their arc of development. Doc Gibbs (Billy Eugene Jones), the local physician, and Mr. Webb (Richard Thomas), the editor of the Sentinel are neighbors. At the turn of the century their wives, like most married women of the time, stay at home, do the housework and prepare meals, none of which is relieved by modern mechanical devices. We learn Mrs. Gibbs (MIchelle Wilson), and Mrs. Webb (Katie Holmes), “vote indirect,” which is to say women are considered incapable of making a rational voting decision.
However, the Stage Manager’s two words hold more weight than he seemingly intends to give them. Instead, he glides by the import of sociopolitical trends because it is unrelated to the cosmic picture alluded to by Rebecca Gibbs (Safiya Kaijya Harris), at the end of Act I. Indeed, the universal themes Wilder drives at do not focus on specific political details. Wisely, Leon takes his cues from the script having Parson’s Manager speak about the titles of the acts as dispassionately and unnuanced as possible. Importantly, Leon “gets” that the functioning of the town, symbolically rendered and opaquely stylized is how Wilder achieves the ultimate impact of the powerful conclusion about appreciating life each day we live it, as insignificant and boring as it may seem at times.
After we meet the children at a breakfast prepared by Mrs. Gibbs and Mrs. Webb via pantomime, the Stage Manager provides the locations of key places like the Post Office, the newspaper office, etc., and reminds us of the town routines, i.e. the train’s arrival and departure, milk and paper deliveries, etc. In the another part of the act, we meet the children who get hooked up in Act II, George Gibbs (Ephraim Sykes), and Emily Webb (Zoey Deutch).
Also, clarified is the town “problem,” Simon Stimpson (Donald Webber, Jr.), who we meet as the play opens when Simon Stimpson conducts the choir in a lovely song. Stimpson becomes the subject of gossip because choir members know he drinks and is drunk a good deal of the time. Mrs. Soames (Julie Halston) gossips about Stimpson and is hushed up by Mrs Gibbs, who tells a little white lie that Stimpson is getting better, then later tells her husband he is getting worse. Webber, Jr. is masterful in the small part. Clues are given about Stimpson’s future, as the character is referred by townspeople in Act I, with some questioning and not knowing “how that’ll end.” Eventually, the Stage Manager shows us how it “ends,” in Act III with Stimpson commenting about life and Mrs. Gibbs responding to him. Whose view should we accept? It, like this production, is open to interpretation.
Three years pass between Act I and Act II, and Parson’s Manager officiates at the marriage between Emily Webb and George Webb, after showing the event which reveals that these two individuals are special and their relationship which is “interesting” is grounded in being truthful to one another. The marriage scene which has been a bit tweaked and slimmed down from the original play, does include the Stage Manager philosophically discussing marriage and particularly George and Emily’s marriage when he says, in part, that he has married over two hundred couples and continues, “Do I believe in it? I don’t know. Once in a thousand times it’s interesting.” Again, we realize the profound comment and question what “interesting,” means.
In the last act which the production speeds to with no intermission as it clocks in at a spare one hour and forty-five minutes, Wilder’s vaguely spiritual metaphors are touching and poignant, despite the production’s bare bones lack of sentimentality. Warning, here is the spoiler, so don’t read the rest of the review if you are unfamiliar with Our Town.
Wilder’s third act resonates with symbols of death, as “the Dead” sit together on chairs as Parson’s unemotional Stage Manager describes the hillside cemetery. Importantly, the lack of Parsons’ emotion stirs the audience deeply. And in Leon’s production, the stylization in the previous acts makes the power of Emily’s return to see and live through her 12th birthday even more potent. Newly dead in childbirth, the Stage Manager gives Emily the privilege, which he says all the dead have, to return to a day in her life to relive it. The morning of her birthday, Emily watches herself, symbolically live without the realization that she will be dead in less than two decades later.
After commenting at how young her parents look and recognizing their love and affection, her pain at her obliviousness to life’s beauty overcomes her and she wants to leave to go back to the cemetery, a lovely spot where her brother Wally, Mrs. Gibbs, Simon Stimpson and Mrs. Soames wait for “something to come out clear.”
Emily’s dialogue is breathtaking and Deutch gets through it with less emotion and passion than is probably required for the audience to feel the reality of her words. “So all that was going on, and we never noticed.” And perhaps more emotion is needed as Emily asks the Stage Manager, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? – every, every minute?” The audience in shock silently answers for itself as the Stage Manager responds.
This is the cruel and truthful heart of the play, especially experiencing it through the character of Emily and the Stage Manager’s comforting but remote words which somehow fall ironically when Parsons says, “No. The saints and poets,maybe – they do some.” However, only in death does Emily realize the suffering pain of not appreciating and being grateful for every fabulous, wondrous moment of life.
Certainly, Wilder needs to hit his audience over the head, and they walk out silently receiving the message, then days later forget it. However, for the moments when Leon, Parsons, the cast and the superb and lovely lighting and staging hold us, we “get it.” And we are grateful for teachable moments received through the actors’ fine efforts, the creative team’s craft and Leon’s minimalist stylization. And we appreciate the rich fullness of each gesture, word and grace delivered to make us get in touch with ourselves in our own Grovers Corners’ life.
Kudos to all involved in this magical production. Thornton Wilder’s Our Town runs one hour forty-five minutes without an intermission at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre (243 West 47th Street). https://www.ourtownbroadway.com/?gad_source=1&gclsrc=ds
CAROLE DI TOSTI 