Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals

Review - Company Film with Neil Patrick Harris and Patti LuPone

We seem to be seeing quite a bit more of these "cinecasts," i.e. Broadway shows and the like taped and presented in local movie theaters. It started with Rent, of course, and lately we've seen cinecasts of The Importance of Being Earnest, Memphis, and Fela, as well as a number of shows from London, including Frankenstein and The Merry Wives of Windsor. (Yes, technically Fela was taped in London, but it had a Broadway pedigree.)

It seems that producers are catching on to the idea that, far from cannibalizing ticket sales for the live versions of these shows, these cinecasts might actually serve as marketing for future tours (e.g. Memphis) or to maximize revenue for a show that might not tour (e.g. Fela).

Cinecasts can also expand the audience for a strictly limited engagement, as was the case with Stephen Sondheim's Company, a filmed version of a recent concert staging of the show with the New York Philharmonic, starring Neil Patrick Harris and Patti LuPone. I didn't catch the live concert, despite my numerous trips to New York, but I can't say I really went out of my way. Did I really need to see Company again, I asked myself, even with such a stellar cast? I mean, I've seen many productions of the show, and the recent John Doyle Broadway production is available on DVD. 

But I did catch a recent screening of the concert film, and five minutes into the showing, I realized that I could never really get too much of Company. It's really that good. Beyond the magnificent Sondheim score (it may even be his best), there's also George Furth's underrated book. People complain that the book is too fragmented, too cynical. But, from where I sit, those are two of its key assets. Despite the deliberate fragmentation, the show flows and builds elegantly, especially after the deft changes Furth made to the libretto for the 1995 Broadway production.

As for the headliners here, Neil Patrick Harris makes for a warm and wry Bobby, bringing to the role all of the charm that made him such an effective and entertaining host for the Tony Awards this year and two years ago. His singing voice can sometimes be a bit thin, but his intonation is strong and he performed the songs with great emotional fluency. And what more can I say about La LuPone? The woman is a sheer force of nature and vocal powerhouse nonpareil. There's a reason Patti's a living legend, and here she's at her diva-rrific best. Her rendition of "The Ladies Who Lunch" was gripping theater, and the surrounding scenes dripped with her trademark sharpness and staccato delivery. In short: fab-u-lous.

Sharing space above the marquee were some Broadway dilettantes, folks who might not elsewise have found their way onto a New York stage: Stephen Colbert ("The Colbert Report"), John Cryer ("Two and a Half Men"), and Christina Hendricks ("Mad Men"). Each had his or her own charms, especially a delightful Hendricks as the flighty flight attendant April, but what really made this concert worth watching, beyond the aforementioned Harris and LuPone, was the exceedingly strong supporting cast of stage veterans: Martha Plimpton, Craig Bierko, Jim Walton, Katie Finneran, Jill Paice, Jennifer Laura Thompson, Aaron Lazar, Anika Noni Rose, & Chryssie Whitehead. Tony winner Finneran was a hoot as the neurotic bride Amy, and Whitehead was a knockout as Kathy, dancing up a storm in the number "Tick Tock," which Michael Bennett originally created for Donna McKechnie.

The concert was directed by Lonny Price, who seems to be making a career out of directing these concert presentations (see Candide and Camelot), and that's really not such a bad thing. He always seems to bring his own individual touches to these concerts, although his Candide really lost steam toward the end. His Company seemed more slowly paced than Doyle's, but with considerably more warmth and humanity. Despite the show's length, I found that I was almost always engaged, except during Anika Noni Rose's "Another Hundred People," which just kind of sat there, and "You Could Drive a Person Crazy," which featured weak vocals and some rather limp staging by Josh Rhodes.

So, I'm all for more of these cinecasts, but the people involved need to find a way to market them more effectively, at least in the Boston area. There was a grand total of 18 people in the theater at the showing I attended. What's more, the theaters themselves need to do a better job of actually presenting these events. Each time I've attended a cinecast, the theater staff has been clueless. They're usually not even aware of the events. 

I saw Company at the Showcase Cinemas in Woburn, MA, and the movie-theater staff got nothing right. The show started 20 minutes late. Somehow the computer that was supposed to start the show didn't kick in, and nobody was paying any attention to the computer, so we had to seek out someone in charge to look into it. Then, once the film started, the house lights didn't go down, and we had to hunt someone down again. Then, at the end of the show, the lights didn't come back on, and we had to fumble our way to the doors.

When I addressed my displeasure to the manager on duty, he couldn't have been less interested or concerned, and made a half-hearted offer of some free movie passes. I don't really go to the movies, so I declined. But I've heard numerous examples of similar experiences that people have had with these cinecasts across the country. I recently read somewhere that these cinecasts could represent a bit of a boon for a struggling movie-theater industry.

Only if they take them more seriously.

Review - Fela "Live" From the National Theater

Certain musicals just keep coming back into my field of vision, offering me opportunities to consider the shows afresh. Most of the time, I see new things to appreciate, if not always enjoy.

Billy Elliot seemed slightly less terrible on Broadway than in London. My overall opinion of Next to Normal improved considerably between its Off-Broadway and Broadway productions, although I still find its implicit message suspect.

Then, London's National Theater announced that it would broadcast internationally a "live" (in reality, delayed, because of time differences) performance of the musical Fela as part of its popular NT Live series. Fela recently closed on Broadway after 463 performances, which is pretty good considering many thought (myself included) that it wouldn't last 3 months, let alone a little over a year.

In my review of the Off-Broadway review production of Fela, I was less than impressed. In fact, I was downright annoyed, mostly at the lazy storytelling (the show is essentially one long narration) and cheap theatrical devices (the show relies overly on projections and supertitles to set the scene and tell the story). When I saw the show on Broadway, I was slightly more captivated by the story and message, and by the sheer exuberance of the music, and of Bill T. Jones's electrifying choreography. After viewing the show a third time last night via satellite, I remain a reluctant admirer of the show's intent, but nonetheless a detractor of its storytelling techniques.

Fela tells the story of Fela Anikulapo Kuti, a Nigerian musician and activist active during the 1970s and '80s. It's certainly a story worth telling, and retelling: the aftereffects of British imperialism, the local ramifications of corporate greed, and the ongoing tragedy of African governmental corruption. The show's conceit is that we are attending Fela's last concert at his beloved venue, The Shrine, as Fela has decided to leave Nigeria, having grown unwilling to withstand the pressure and persecution of the Nigerian government.

Last night's broadcast began with a half-hour pre-show, with cast members wandering through the on-screen set, and musicians playing warm-up music, welcoming us into Fela's world. Perhaps predictably, the broadcast atmosphere didn't even come close to the feeling of celebration and community that enveloped audiences during the Broadway show's run. Also, the broadcast director didn't focus the cameras on the supertitles, which appeared during the first number to help acclimate intrepid theatergoers to the Nigerian accents. Perhaps predictably, the uptight Boston audience members declined to stand during the show's "clock" audience-participation section.

At first, I found myself disengaged and unaffected by the broadcast, but around the middle of the first act, I started to get caught up in the proceedings, partly due to an African American woman behind me who regularly vocalized her opinions and approval. Normally that sort of thing would irk me to no end, but somehow the jubilant nature of her participation became infectious.

During the interval (Ahem, that's British for "intermission," don'tcha know), there was an interview with director/choreographer Bill T. Jones, who made some really compelling points about the show and its eponymous "hero." The theme of the show, he said, was that we can have "as much freedom as we are willing to pay for," referring of course to Fela's continual struggle against the Nigerian government, but also wonderfully resonant with our own life and times here in America. Jones acceded that Fela was indeed a flawed character, which the show addresses, but Jones feels that's "part of his poetry."

I found Act 2 of Fela to be considerably more dramatically cohesive and emotionally compelling this time around. Somehow the narrative was making more visceral sense, and I found myself less hide-bound by my own notions of theatrical convention and getting caught up in the story and its message. But I still find the show, overall, to be more admirable than transcendent. When shows aim higher, and feature more noble subject matter, that doesn't mean they get a pass in terms of dramatic integrity and the quality of the presentation. But I will say that three viewings of Fela have taught me that, as a critic and teacher of musical theater, I should try to be more open to alternate forms of storytelling.

It's interesting that we're starting to see more show producers who are allowing these sorts of broadcasts. Just yesterday, it was announced that Memphis would soon be filmed for theatrical release later in the spring. I must say, I find that announcement puzzling. I mean, broadcasting Fela makes sense: one of the keys to the show's effectiveness is its central performance by Sahr Ngaujah. On Broadway, I saw Fela alternate Kevin Mambo, who was fine, but didn't have anywhere near the dynamic and emotional range of Ngaujah. Plus, I have a hard time imagining audiences with Broadway Across America getting excited about Fela as part of their subscription packages. But surely Memphis will be able to drag its mediocre butt across America. Isn't that why the Tony voters gave it Best Musical, despite the fact that Fela is a significantly better show?

A final note of thanks to the folks at Boston's local jewel, The Coolidge Corner Theater, one of a handful of local Boston venues for the Fela broadcast. I foolishly left the task of acquiring my ticket for the last minute, only to find that the showing had sold out. I contacted the good folks at the Coolidge, explained my situation, and after copious abject begging, they scrounged up a ticket for me. Major props to the Coolidge, yo.