THEATRE'S LEITER SIDE

Saturday, December 19, 2015

122. Review: THE COLOR PURPLE (seen December 17, 2015)

“Color it Beautiful”

Stars range from 5-1

Cynthia Erivo, Joaquina Kalukango, and company. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

If any current big-time director of musicals can be said to have an instantly recognizable brand it would have to be Scottish-born John Doyle, recently anointed artistic director of Off Broadway’s Classic Stage Company. That brand, noted for how efficiently it pares away the visual excesses of traditional staging to get at the heart of the material, is distinctively on display in his gloriously sung and acted revival of THE COLOR PURPLE. This, of course, is the musical adaptation of Alice Walker’s Pulitzer Prize-winning epistolary novel, whose original production—which I never saw—opened on Broadway in 2005 and ran for 910 performances, closing only seven short years ago. Mr. Doyle’s exciting version comes to the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre after a successful run at London’s intimate Menier Chocolate Factory.

Antoine L. Smith, Patrice Covington, Jennifer Hudson, Cynthia Erivo, Isaiah Johnson, Kyle Scatliffe, Danielle Brooks. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

I say “sung and acted” but not “danced,” since only a few moments that might be thus described are present in Mr. Doyle’s swiftly paced “musical staging,” even though Donald Bird’s choreography in the original was nominated for a Tony. Unlike several other of the director’s productions (SWEENEY TODD, COMPANY, ALLEGRO), the actor-singers don’t also accompany themselves on musical instruments, but their marvelous voices are instruments enough. And the voice of voices—in a company of great ones—belongs to Cynthia Erivo, from the British cast, who soars to Broadway stardom in the role of Celie, which earned LaChanze a Tony in the 2005 production.

Cynthia Erivo, Jennifer Hudson. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

The narrative-rich show (adapted by Marsha Norman from Walker's novel), focusing on four women but mainly on Celie, is set mostly in a black community in Georgia. It spans 40 years in Celie’s life, from 1909 to 1949, beginning when she’s 14 and ending when she’s 54. When the story begins, the downtrodden girl, called “Po Chil,” gives birth to her second child by her presumed father, Pa (Kevyn Morrow), only for it to be taken away by him, just as he did with her first. The narrative follows her travails as she’s forced to marry the oppressive, whip-snapping farmer, Mister (Isaiah Johnson), who treats her more like a slave than a wife, and who angrily separates Celie from her beloved sister, Nettie (Joaquina Kalukango). Nettie moves to Africa, but Mister prevents Celie from seeing her letters, leading Celie to think her sister dead.

Danielle Brooks, Kyle Scatliffe. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

Mister’s son, the sweet Harpo (Kyle Scatliffe), marries the prodigious Sofia (Danielle Brooks, “Orange Is the New Black”), who won’t let any man lord it over her and takes pity on the oppressed Celie. When Sofia leaves Harpo, he opens a juke joint and takes up with the squeaky-voiced waitress Squeak (Patrice Covington). Mister’s former lover, sultry singer Shug Avery (Jennifer Hudson), arrives to sing at Harpo’s place, and moves in with Mister and Celie, where she and the girl forge an emotional (and sexual) bond. A letter Shug finds reveals to Celie that Nettie is alive and serving as a missionary in Africa; Celie soon finds Nettie’s other letters and a correspondence, verbalized in the dialogue, ensues. And this skeletal outline covers only act one!

Jennifer Hudson and company. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

Time passes; the characters grow older and wiser; broken relationships are healed; the abusive Mister undergoes a (credibility-straining) transformation; Celie finds new strength and confidence when she becomes a successful pants maker in Memphis, where she lives with Shug; and a joyful reunion brings all together for a powerfully moving finale.

Jennifer Hudson, Cynthia Erivo. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

The complex, episodic action is beautifully simplified without a single scene change. Doyle himself designed the unit setting, lovingly lit by Jane Cox: a towering wall of crisscrossing planking on which hang a motley collection of wooden chairs, the same kind of chairs carried about and placed in multiple configurations by the actors to establish locales and scenic elements. Visual interest is enhanced by the imaginative use of sheets of fabric, from the white one Celie unravels from between her legs and bundles to suggest a newborn, to the colorful ones flapped in the air in a scene set in Africa. Ann Hould-Ward’s simplified period costumes, mostly in subdued tones except for Shug’s sexy red dress during her juke joint number, undergo few changes (like the wigs), despite the passage of time; thus the impression made when characters wearing Celie’s pants enter is that much more eye-catching.

Cynthia Erivo, Jennifer Hudson, and company. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

THE COLOR PURPLE takes a strong feminist stance against patriarchal dominance, demonstrating the redemptive force of spiritual faith, and depicting the overcoming of oppression. Brenda Russell, Allee Willis, and Stephen Bray’s gospel, R&B, ragtime, and jazz score is filled with foot-stomping, roof-raising, and seductively balladic numbers, performed by a vibrantly talented ensemble topped by the remarkable Ms. Erivo. Her acting remains conversationally honest, in keeping with the production’s own minimalism, while her singing displays both sweet grace and rafter-shaking authority. Watching her evolve from subservient child-wife to proud, independent woman is an artistic revelation. And when she sings “Miss Celie’s Pants” or her 11 o’clock number, “I’m Here,” you’ll know what all the fuss is about.

Danielle Brooks, Patrice Covington, Cynthia Erivo, Bre Jackson, Carrie Compere, Rema Webb. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

But this takes nothing away from the sensational Danielle Brooks, who rocks the place with her explosive vocals, as in the gospel-shouting “Hell No!” nor from the magnificent Jennifer Hudson, making her Broadway debut, and demonstrating her multidimensional charisma. Her “Push da Button,” “Too Beautiful for Words,” “What About Love” (shared with Ms. Erivo), and “The Color Purple” define her star quality. Mr. Scatliffe, Mr. Johnson, and Ms. Covington couldn’t be better, which can also be said of the rest of the splendid 17-member troupe.

There are other Broadway shows getting rousing reactions from theatergoers, but the love and enthusiasm demonstrated by the audience when I attended, including loud responses to every suggestion of female empowerment, was unforgettable. If that reaction is typical, this revival of THE COLOR PURPLE may have the legs to outrun even the original. And you can color that beautiful.

OTHER VIEWPOINTS:

Show-Score

THE COLOR PURPLE

Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre

242 West Forty-Fifth Street, NYC

Open run

Friday, December 18, 2015

121. Review: ANNIE (seen December 17, 2015)

"Little Awesome Annie (and the Kings)"

Stars range from 5-1.

For my review of ANNIE, please click on THEATER PIZZAZZ.

Issie Swickle and company. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

Lucy Werner, Garrett Deagon, Lynn Andrews. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

Gilgamesh Taggett, Ashley Edler, Issie Swickle. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

Gilgamesh Taggett, Issie Swickle, Jeffrey B. Duncan (in chair), and company. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

ANNIE company. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

Foreground: Gilgamesh Taggett, Issie Swickle. Photo: Matthew Murphy.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

120. Review: ONCE UPON A MATTRESS (seen December 15, 2015)

“Grand Street Follies”

The rich, 100-year history of Grand Street’s Harry De Jur Playhouse (formerly the Neighborhood Playhouse), at the Henry Street Settlement’s Abrons Arts Center, just got a bit richer with the Transport Group’s spirited revival of the 1959 musical ONCE UPON A MATTRESS. The original production of this spoofy, goofy retelling of Hans Christian Andersen’s children’s story, “The Princess and the Pea,” opened at Off Broadway’s Phoenix Theatre in 1959, moved to Broadway soon after for a 244-performance run, and made a star of Carol Burnett as the ugly duckling, wannabe bride, Princess Winnifred.

Hunter Ryan Herdlicka, Corey Lingner. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

ONCE UPON A MATTRESS belongs to the category of fairy tale-like musicals set in medieval worlds (like CAMELOT, A CONNECTICUT YANKEE IN KING ARTHUR’S COURT, INTO THE WOODS, CINDERELLA, PIPPIN, SPAMALOT, SHREK, and so on). In a pea shell, it tells of how the ultra-controlling Queen Aggravain (John “Lypsinka” Epperson) does all she can to prevent her naïve son, Prince Dauntless (Jason SweetTooth Williams), from getting married, which means no one else in the kingdom can marry either. The situation is especially dire for the beautiful Lady Larken (Jessica Fontana, quite good) and her swain, the handsome Sir Harry (Zak Resnick, suitably self-centered), because she’s pregnant. (Their duets, “In a Little While” and “Yesterday I Love You” are very well sung.) The queen's impossible tests have caused 13 eligible princesses to fail in their quest to marry the prince; she now comes up with a new test for the brash, open-hearted, funny-looking Princess Winnifred (Jackie Hoffman, ON THE TOWN), who wins Dauntless’s love when she sings of “The Swamps of Home.” Twenty mattresses are piled high and a pea is stashed at its bottom. If “Fred” (the name Winnifred prefers to be called) fails this “sensitivity” test by falling asleep despite the pea, the marriage is off. Guess what happens.

John "Lypsinka" Epperson, Jackie Hoffman, and company. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

Director Jack Cummings III and choreographer Scott Rink have given a creative jolt to an excellent company of 19 (and a pit orchestra of 13 conducted by Matt Castle). This sizable ensemble is led by Hoffman’s winning Winnifred and Epperson’s show-stealing Aggravain. Hoffman, a petite, bespectacled, comedienne-singer, whose face is the obverse of Angelina Jolie’s, can belt a song the way Yoenis Cespedes hits a baseball. When, after swimming a filthy moat to reach the castle, she sings that she’s “Shy,” holding back demurely until she opens that cave of a mouth to hit the title word, you’ll wish you’d brought your ear plugs along. Funny as she often is, she lacks Burnett’s unique zaniness and facial flexibility (Burnett was more than twice as young as Ms. Hoffman, who’s 55, when she first played the part), but she handles her several songs with both big-voiced power and melodic sweetness.

Jackie Hoffman and company. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

Burnett’s performance as Winnifred is available on YouTube in two separate productions, a black and white one from 1964, and a color one from 1972. So is her 2005 performance as the benignly wicked queen, a role traditionally taken by a woman but in the current production by a renowned drag queen, Mr. Epperson, who plays the conniving monarch with every ounce of glammed-up campiness you can squeeze into a series of deliciously overdesigned gowns. With his commanding size, enhanced by spiked heels, Mr. Epperson towers over several of his height-challenged costars, especially David Greenspan as the silent King Septimus, Jay Rogers as the showbizzy Wizard, and, of course, Ms. Hoffman; his manner of playing directly to the audience with winking canniness at his queenly machinations makes it nearly impossible to look elsewhere when he’s on stage. Observe how he applauds by tapping his fingertips together, how he marches off with one royal hand held before him like something from an Egyptian tomb drawing, or how he gives his vowels a hopefully posh accent, saying “mottress” for “mattress,” for example.

Jason SweetTooth Williams, John "Lypsinka" Epperson, Zak Resnick. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

Among the memorable supporting performances are Mr. Williams’s chubby, bearded, warmly lovable doofus of a Prince Dauntless, and Mr. Greenspan’s mute King (cursed by a witch), who, for someone I’ve never seen do musical comedy, is surprisingly deft. Hunter Ryan Herdlicka sings nicely as the Minstrel, and Cory Lingner is a genial song and dance Jester, with an old-fashioned solo dance number, “In Very Soft Shoes,” that, while well done, seems extraneous (as do one or two other numbers).

Doug Shapiro, Jason SweetTooth Williams, Jay Rogers, John "Lypsinka" Epperson, Ali Reed, Corey Lingner, Richard Costa, Tim Dolan. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

Despite the lack of any songs that have become standards, Rodgers and Barer’s score is consistently amusing and listenable, far more so than many highly touted recent shows. The book, however, has too many minor diversions, and there’s not quite enough wit to sustain what is, after all, a rather innocuous narrative for a grown-up audience.

Jessica Fontana, Zak Resnick. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

Mary Rodgers’s music and Marshall Barer’s lyrics retain much of the comical brio that’s made the show a perennial favorite among school and amateur groups. That may partly be because, while sex plays a role in Jay Thompson, Dean Fuller, and Marshall Barer’s book, the dialogue and lyrics avoid smuttiness, even in the ingenious “Man to Man Talk” number, in which the mute king, communicating with gestures, teaches his childishly innocent adult son the facts of life.

Corey Lingner, David Greenspan, Hunter Ryan Herdlicka. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

Working on what must be a restricted budget, Sandra Goldmark has created a simple unit set of slender metal archways backed by a projection screen on which Ken Fallin’s cartoony sketches (to which the artist’s hand is seen adding finishing touches) establish each scene. R. Lee Kennedy’s lighting is cheery enough and Kathryn Rohe’s costumes are colorful, especially the grandiose ones worn by the queen; some of the men’s, though, look a bit makeshift.

Jackie Hoffman and company. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

At a somewhat overlong two hours and 25 minutes, ONCE UPON A MATTRESS isn’t a great show, but it’s cute, sprightly, and more charming than you might expect. Strangely, there were very few youngsters present when I went, but, even with Mr. Epperson’s presence, this remains a family musical and one that, despite the absence of Christmas trappings, would make a holiday visit worth considering.

Jackie Hoffman. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

OTHER VIEWPOINTS:

Show-Score

ONCE UPON A MATRESS

Henry De Jur Playhouse/Abrons Arts Center

466 Grand Street, NYC

Through January 3

Sunday, December 13, 2015

119. Review: PLAID TIDINGS (seen December 11, 2015)

“The Men from Plaid”

Stars range from 5-1.

Tis the season to be schmaltzy, as anyone visiting PLAID TIDINGS, the entertaining, nostalgia-laden Christmas revue making its New York debut, can attest. The show, which premiered at the Pasadena Playhouse in 2001, takes theatregoers, especially those of a certain age, on a trip back to the days when “PC” stood for Perry Como (or “Perry Christmas”), whom even Donald Trump probably loved. The show's a holiday spinoff from another Off-Broadway revue, Stuart Ross’s popular FOREVER PLAID, which debuted in 1990, and was built around four young semi-professional singers calling themselves “Forever Plaid” who are devoted to smooth harmonizing in the 1950s tradition of “guy groups” like the Four Aces, the Four Lads, the Hi-Los, and the Four Freshmen.

Ciaran McCarthy, Bradley Beahen, John-Michael Zuerlein, and Jose Luaces. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

The premise of the original show is that the fellows, clean-cut high school buddies, were headed for their big break on February 9, 1964—at an Airport Hilton cocktail lounge—when they were killed in a collision with a bus carrying Catholic high school girls to see the Beatles on “The Ed Sullivan Show." They get the chance to return to earth so they can perform the show they never got to do, covers of pop standards of the day that were on the verge of obsolescence with the rapid rise of rock ‘n roll.

PLAID TIDINGS uses the same idea, but the singers, Sparky (Jose Luaces), Smudge (John-Michael Zuerlein), Jinx (Ciaran McCarthy), and Frankie (Bradley Beahen), now return—cue the lightning and thunder—during the holiday season. They’ve been sent back for some cosmic gobbledygook reason, and give a two-act show, wearing plaid tuxes and cummerbunds in act one and cherry red cardigans (with plaid ties) in act two. One guy suffers from asthma, another from nosebleeds, and another from stuttering.

The slightly overstuffed two-hour show is packed with tasty bonbons in the form of expertly performed songs and clever musical staging. The comic shtick is hit or miss, though, and the corn is as high as an elephant's eye, The group is supposedly awkward and prone to mishaps, emphasized by business like having one or the other pretend to be out of sync. With the same music playing in every store and elevator these days, the music holds few surprises; nonetheless, it’s well enough done that it really doesn’t matter.

Josh Luaces, John-Michael Zuerlein, Ciaran McCarthy, Brendan Beahen. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

At first, the Plaids sing songs like “Stranger in Paradise,” “Sh-Boom,” (wittily performed with the use of long-handled plumber’s helpers), “Besame Mucho,” and “Kiss of Fire”; when the Christmas spirit starts to move them we hear “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,” “Hark the Herald Angels Sing,” and “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” But they continue to make side trips into non-holiday songs before they finally get the heavenly message (from Rosemary Clooney) about what they should be singing, and the Yuletide gates open all the way, starting with “The Christmas Song.” Before act one ends, there's an audience sing-along of the calypso“Mathilda” (with lyrics referring to Mathilda’s taking “me money” to “go Christmas shopping”). For Chanukah celebrants, “The Dreidel Song” gets a spin.

James Followell (at piano), Josh Luaces, Ciaran McCarthy (front), John-Michael Zuerlein, Brendan Beahen. Photo: Carol Rosegg.

Act two’s many nicely wrapped presents include, among others, “Cool Yule,” “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” (given a hilarious a capella rendition by Frankie during which he makes an impassioned spoken plea on behalf of the beleaguered Rudolph), a hip-hop “Twas the Night Before Christmas,” “Let it Snow,” “Carol of the Bells” (a bell-ringing routine in which an audience member participates), “Mr. Sandman” (changed to "Mr. Santa," also on the bells), “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” (sung as backup to a video clip of Perry Como from one of his Christmas specials), “Jingle Bells,” “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and so on. The evening’s showstopper isn’t a song, though, but a condensed rendition of “The Ed Sullivan Show” referencing as many of the acts that used to appear there as there are angels on the head of a pin (yes, Liberace, Alvin and the Chipmunks, and Señor Wences are there!).

All the technical and design elements are in tune, including James Morgan’s cabaret setting, and Mike Megliola’s Christmas-accented lighting. Mr. Luaces, Mr. Zuerlein, Mr. McCarthy, and Mr. Beahan move well, are funny enough, and capture the still wonderful period sound. If you’re thinking about a reasonably priced holiday gift for your theatre-loving friends, this musically lighthearted, sentimental throwback, silly and old-fashioned as some of it is, would be a great choice. You might even want to put PLAID TIDINGS on your own wish list.

OTHER VIEWPOINTS:

Show-Score
NY Theatre Guide
Sound and Lighting America

PLAID TIDINGS

http://www.yorktheatre.org/

York Theatre

619 Lexington Avenue, NYC

Through December 27

Saturday, December 12, 2015

118. Review: OUR FRIENDS, THE ENEMY (seen December 9, 2015)

“Truce or Consequences”

Stars range from 5-1.

Imagine. A time precisely 101 years ago when two enemy armies sharing common religious beliefs were able—in the midst of one of history’s most horrendously brutal wars—to briefly put down their arms and celebrate their mutual humanity and faith, even playing football (soccer), exchanging gifts, singing carols, and donning one another’s helmets, before resuming the slaughter. Something like this—with varying degrees of fraternization or military activity (including burials and prisoner swaps) at different locales—actually happened in France during one of the most unusual moments of World War I’s carnage, only five months after hostilities began.

This moment, when England’s Tommys and Germany’s Jerrys faced each other at Christmastime in freezing, wet, and muddy trenches across a couple of hundred yards on the Western Front, is the subject of British actor-playwright Alex Gwyther’s somber but disappointingly undramatic solo play, OUR FRIENDS, THE ENEMY, starring Mr. Gwyther under the direction of Tom O’Brien. The piece comes to Theatre Row’s Lion Theatre after a well-received 2013 run at London’s Wimbledon Studio Theatre, on tour, and at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival..

Alex Gwyther.

It was December 1914 when—at one frontline site after another—the spirit of the season spontaneously inspired what came to be called the Christmas Truce, a momentary (and unofficial) cessation of hostilities, created, not by the warring commanders or their governments, but by the men themselves (the Germans are said to have initiated it). Picture it: two dirty, cold, hungry, homesick armies—the wounded, dying, and dead nearby—laying aside their weapons by common consent to fraternize in no-man’s land during a momentary peace.

Alex Gwyther.

In a program note, Mr. Gwyther says he wrote the play because he felt “more people had to know about the Truce.” One might think, therefore, that he’s uncovered a little-known story begging for dramatization. In fact, whether you’ve heard of it or not, the Christmas Truce is a quite well-known part of the Great War’s lore and is deeply embedded in the cultural mythology associated with that conflict, including popular songs, movies, TV programs, and plays (one example of which has been performed at Minneapolis’s Pantages Theatre annually since 2008).

Alex Gwyther.

OUR FRIENDS, THE ENEMY takes place on a mostly bare black stage covered with earth, and using a minimum of props (whatever’s covering the ground can’t be seen from the theatre’s rear, where I was seated). Lighting designer David Goldstein keeps the atmospherics suitably moody and grim, often isolating Mr. Gwyther with gloomy shadows from below, and Darren Clark provides a musical background of gentle piano tinkling that, at first, sounds like someone’s IPhone going off. During the preshow moments, Mr. Gwyther, a good-looking young man, dressed in a filthy uniform and a soft military cap (no helmet?), busies himself with his rifle and other mundane things, but when the piece proper begins—and when it ends—he’s got his hands behind his head, praying, as if waiting to be shot.

Alex Gwyther.

He’s Private James Boyce, 1st Queens Regiment, Surrey, and he soon begins recounting his experiences directly to us (who we are is not mentioned), occasionally citing specific dates (beginning December 19, 1914, and then shifting to December 24) to mark the way, as if the words come from a diary. He speaks of his soldier friend, George, of their casual conversations, of his rations, his hardships, the preparations for a coming attack, and so on, giving us a sense of what the British cannon fodder were experiencing in the trenches on a day to day basis during the first Christmas season of the war. He also tells us of similar concerns on the German side, “a grenade’s throw away,” thus giving him a narrative omniscience and diminishing the idea that we’re hearing the firsthand account of an actual person. This transfer from the personal to the universal goes back and forth throughout.

As the narrative continues, we learn of his encounter with German soldiers while foraging at a barn, of his inability to shoot an enemy counterpart in cold blood, and of their agreement to continue such secret meetings. He describes how the Brits and Germans are tentatively celebrating the holiday, moving the story from his own location to what was happening at the same time at battlegrounds elsewhere on the front, something he could, of course, have had no idea of at the time. Meanwhile, the bombs and gunfire (none of which are audible) continue to rain death on both sides. Gifts arrive on Christmas day, the enemies cautiously come together, cigarettes are shared along with gripes about the hellish conditions, various amusements help pass the time, and corpses are laid to rest, but the moment passes, and the apocalypse returns

The story is profoundly powerful, but its heartbeat rests in incidental moments, not in a cumulatively engrossing drama; instead, an elegiac mood takes precedence over dramatic development. Sincere as are Mr. Gwyther’s intentions, they never coalesce into an emotional fireball. His soft-voiced delivery, except for a few moments of heightened feeling, has a monotonous sameness that, even for a performance only 55 minutes long, borders on the tedious. The soldiers Mr. Gwyther honors endured godforsaken agonies we can only guess at, but OUR FRIENDS, THE ENEMY barely conveys either their discomforts or the sharply contrasting comfort that the Christmas Truce surely must have brought them.

OTHER VIEWPOINTS:

Show-Score

OUR FRIENDS, THE ENEMY

Lion Theatre

410 West Forty-Second Street, NYC

Through December 20