A German Life at the Bridge Theatre: Maggie Smith is a Treasure; This Show is Notby Randi / May 9, 2019The minute you walk in the joint, you can tell this was a show of distinctionnnn A REAL BIG SPENDER. Okay I’ll try to stop doing that (no promises), but man I’m not lying about the game being ON as soon as you enter the Donmar, all redone in the style of Andy Warhol’s 1950s factory. Sure the style redo doesn’t technically add anything for the story, but this specific anachronism doesn’t harm the story at all so I have no issue with their going for a cool look. And every other inch of this stunning, shocking, poignant revival is pitch perfect, not only serving the story but improving its meaning and deepening its emotional reach, in a way I never ever would have guessed was possible from knowing this show in previous incarnations.
As soon as the beat dropped (in my heart #jasonmendoza) and Anne-Marie Duff’s Charity started speaking to the pace of her quick-beating heart, jumping too quickly at any semblance of affection (as well as into a BUBBLE PIT LAKE, want) and latching onto it though it was always too slippery to grasp, I was in awe. No longer simply a good-hearted, down-on-her-luck heroine, we’re finally reminded after too many bland, uninspired revivals that Charity is a tragic character, in a fully heartbreaking tragic tale like the old school Greeks did. Charity is no simple sweet gal; she is a poor aging woman who life continues to beat like a piñata yet she always retains hope that the piñata is full of candy so she’s like ‘I guess the beating from life is okay because maybe candy?’ but it never is candy, poor sweet Charity, it never is. It’s always more and more unfair bullshit and she deserves better and NEVER GETS IT and finally, thanks to Anne-Marie Duff in a true masterclass of performance and character understanding, that’s the Charity portrayed in all her pitiful, tragic glory.
Josie Rourke’s meticulous, brilliant direction uses every inch of Cy Coleman and Dorothy Fields’ score and Neil Simon’s book to prove that this show is one of the great tragedies of musical theatre, exemplified by the super-slowed down version of “Big Spender” that, in its almost painstakingly slower meter, let the grit and devastation and more than anything desperation of the taxi dancers fill in all the slower gaps in the beat. You could tell the audience, recognizing the song, wanted to tap their feet and bop along in their seats, but Josie was like NO, SIT STILL, IT’S DEPRESSING. It was great. The other most well-known song in the show, though, was pure adorable joy, when Duff perfected, really, I mean, perfected, “If My Friends Could See Me Now”, when she finds herself in the apartment of a famous movie star (a fantastic Martin Marquez). With her scratchy voice that reminded me at times of Alice Ripley in Next to Normal (though with more optimism than Diana) in how it can use its jagged edges to cut directly to your core, Duff made this moment a delight, with nothing threatening to take it from her, like with all her future moments of happiness.
Another standout song, a song that I had forgotten about, was the determined number between Charity, ensemble standout Lizzy Connelly, and a great Debbie Kurup, “There’s Gotta be Something Better Than This”, a resolution among three pretty defeated women to ‘get up, get out’ and live a better life. Sharpening the emotional impact of what was already flawless was the painful reprise at the end, a knife through all our hearts that were already BROKEN ENOUGH from the preceding actions, jfc were Coleman and Simon and freaking Dorothy trying to kill us??
On top of all this, they also managed to include the most provocative version of Oscar (Arthur Darvill). Instead of just a one-note ‘nice’ guy who, like all ‘nice’ guys, ends up not being so nice, he was the epitome of toxic masculinity, representing in his averageness all the regular men who believe #notallmen yet still cannot condone women who live life on their own terms, women who don’t fit inside their controlling, oppressive box. Instead of feeling bad for Charity that Oscar isn’t what she’d hoped, you feel angry at Oscar for being such a weak man (and, though you hate to see her sad, glad that Charity found out before she devoted her life to him).
Honestly, if every revival brought half as much heart and inspiration to its reworking of classics, we would have endless amazing, transformative theatre. Rourke’s Sweet Charity sets a new benchmark that I hope future revivals can meet, but they’re gonna have a hard time trying.
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Yo, Adrian: “Rocky” the Musical is Actually Ya Know Great
Yes this is in a Broadway theatre
Yo, Adrian, I dunno why but I had so much fun ya know like so much at “Rocky” on Broadway. It gets shaky reviews from highbrow critics (not like me tee-hee) and people who fancy themselves theatre aficionados (well that is me), but the audiences, and seemingly everyone on Twitter, love it like it’s the city of brotherly love. For shows I don’t like, I’m the first person to discount audience adoration (THOSE IGNORANT PLEBEIANS) but for shows I enjoy, like this one, come on look the audience loves it! That means it’s worth seeing!
But truly it is worth seeing. The music isn’t consistent (I found myself thinking, “Wait this is Flaherty & Aherns? The geniuses who wrote “Anastasia”???), yet even with several weak songs, the show proved that it deserved the musical treatment. It’s the only show now on Broadway that takes actual risks, many of them, and makes it pay off with a tremendously enjoyable experience. With Broadway moving towards complete takeover by jukebox musicals, revues, and over-the-top spectacles, risky and innovative musicals like this should be celebrated.
So about the actual show. Everyone knows the story, right? About the lovable down-on-his-luck boxer living in South Philadelphia (heyooo) who gets a chance at fighting in the biggest fight there is and loves a girl named Adrian? If you don’t you should go watch the movie. There’s a movie. Actually several.
My perception may have been colored because I had the best seat I’ve ever had for a show (thanks lottery! And the gods of fortune that day!). I won the cheap ticket lottery a few months ago (the show has since switched to a general rush policy with worse seats, which I think means it’s doing well) and got the seat right next to the conductor, front row center. Being that close to anything may help (but then again I had front row at “Bullets Over Broadway” and that’s not getting away with anything). The front rows are also part of the ridiculously fun Golden Circle, which we’ll get to later. Regardless, the entire audience at my performance seemed to love it, and I barely stopped smiling.
This is due mostly to Andy Karl, who plays Rocky Balboa and was deservedly nominated for a Tony Award. He is spectacular. He’s understated, super charming, funny and he works his ass off. He also drinks 3 raw eggs every performance, which is disgusting and awful but like that is commitment. Karl has a great singing voice but for this role his speaking voice was even more effective, though his (and everyone’s) accent veers more towards Brooklyn than Philly. It happens. But every time he says “Yo Adrian” – which is basically every time he opens his mouth – somehow it’s perfect and adorable and made me laugh, in the best way. Thankfully, his solo numbers were among the best songs of the show, as it should be. He has some rousing I-believe-in-me-oh-yes-you-just-watch songs, some nice ones about or with Adrian, and one really silly one to open with (“My Nose Ain’t Broken”) that establishes his character and his charm despite some cringeworthy lyrics. Also he has pet turtles. I don’t know if they are real, but he’s adorable with them. As all people are when they treat animals nicely.
Speaking of Adrian, she is a revelation. Margo Seibert’s acting is subtle and natural, and she hides this lovely voice that she expertly wields at the right moments. At several moments I had the urge to give her a hug, which was dangerous because I was close enough to actually do that. She has the most beautiful song in the show, “Raining”, which will likely become a staple performance piece of college girls trying to major in theatre. She also wears the famous red hat and white coat at the end, so nice job all around.
The lackluster songs come when other characters, like Apollo Creed, random scantily clad women, and Headmaster Charleston, were given songs that didn’t do anything to drive the plot forward. This show had enough happening; side characters didn’t need songs just to reinforce that this was a musical. They didn’t further develop the characters, but they bored the audience.
But yes so Headmaster Charleston (Dakin Matthews) is in this, playing Rocky’s coach. When I first saw him onstage I got real scared that he was going to yell at me for breaking into the school at midnight to ring a bell. Thankfully, he didn’t. He’s well cast, but he should not have a song, especially one that is lame and at the top of Act II. The beginning of Act II in any musical needs to be energetic and interesting, because a) you have to bring the audience back into the story and b) second acts are notoriously worse than first acts so why not try to fight that? This ill-planned song about how the coach used to fight or something was like RoadRunner falling off a cliff like beeeyoooahhhhhhhhhbummmmmm (#soundeffects). Filler and dead filler at best. That’s the director’s fault.
After that, the first half of the second act is pretty much training montages set to “Eye of the Tiger”, and damn if they aren’t incredibly fun. That’s how the act should have begun. I’m pretty sure Karl works out like 18 hours a day, but the workout he gets in this show would be enough for a normal person. He jogs back and forth across the stage as digital backgrounds show parts of Philly (that no sane person would run through without a vest), he does push-ups and pull-ups, he drinks the raw eggs (ew), he punches the sides of beef hanging in his friend’s meat locker (ahhhh), and yes he runs up the Art Museum steps (woooo!). I was exhausted just watching it. Hell I’m exhausted just writing about it.
So about the actual show. Everyone knows the story, right? About the lovable down-on-his-luck boxer living in South Philadelphia (heyooo) who gets a chance at fighting in the biggest fight there is and loves a girl named Adrian? If you don’t you should go watch the movie. There’s a movie. Actually several.
My perception may have been colored because I had the best seat I’ve ever had for a show (thanks lottery! And the gods of fortune that day!). I won the cheap ticket lottery a few months ago (the show has since switched to a general rush policy with worse seats, which I think means it’s doing well) and got the seat right next to the conductor, front row center. Being that close to anything may help (but then again I had front row at “Bullets Over Broadway” and that’s not getting away with anything). The front rows are also part of the ridiculously fun Golden Circle, which we’ll get to later. Regardless, the entire audience at my performance seemed to love it, and I barely stopped smiling.
This is due mostly to Andy Karl, who plays Rocky Balboa and was deservedly nominated for a Tony Award. He is spectacular. He’s understated, super charming, funny and he works his ass off. He also drinks 3 raw eggs every performance, which is disgusting and awful but like that is commitment. Karl has a great singing voice but for this role his speaking voice was even more effective, though his (and everyone’s) accent veers more towards Brooklyn than Philly. It happens. But every time he says “Yo Adrian” – which is basically every time he opens his mouth – somehow it’s perfect and adorable and made me laugh, in the best way. Thankfully, his solo numbers were among the best songs of the show, as it should be. He has some rousing I-believe-in-me-oh-yes-you-just-watch songs, some nice ones about or with Adrian, and one really silly one to open with (“My Nose Ain’t Broken”) that establishes his character and his charm despite some cringeworthy lyrics. Also he has pet turtles. I don’t know if they are real, but he’s adorable with them. As all people are when they treat animals nicely.
Speaking of Adrian, she is a revelation. Margo Seibert’s acting is subtle and natural, and she hides this lovely voice that she expertly wields at the right moments. At several moments I had the urge to give her a hug, which was dangerous because I was close enough to actually do that. She has the most beautiful song in the show, “Raining”, which will likely become a staple performance piece of college girls trying to major in theatre. She also wears the famous red hat and white coat at the end, so nice job all around.
The lackluster songs come when other characters, like Apollo Creed, random scantily clad women, and Headmaster Charleston, were given songs that didn’t do anything to drive the plot forward. This show had enough happening; side characters didn’t need songs just to reinforce that this was a musical. They didn’t further develop the characters, but they bored the audience.
But yes so Headmaster Charleston (Dakin Matthews) is in this, playing Rocky’s coach. When I first saw him onstage I got real scared that he was going to yell at me for breaking into the school at midnight to ring a bell. Thankfully, he didn’t. He’s well cast, but he should not have a song, especially one that is lame and at the top of Act II. The beginning of Act II in any musical needs to be energetic and interesting, because a) you have to bring the audience back into the story and b) second acts are notoriously worse than first acts so why not try to fight that? This ill-planned song about how the coach used to fight or something was like RoadRunner falling off a cliff like beeeyoooahhhhhhhhhbummmmmm (#soundeffects). Filler and dead filler at best. That’s the director’s fault.
After that, the first half of the second act is pretty much training montages set to “Eye of the Tiger”, and damn if they aren’t incredibly fun. That’s how the act should have begun. I’m pretty sure Karl works out like 18 hours a day, but the workout he gets in this show would be enough for a normal person. He jogs back and forth across the stage as digital backgrounds show parts of Philly (that no sane person would run through without a vest), he does push-ups and pull-ups, he drinks the raw eggs (ew), he punches the sides of beef hanging in his friend’s meat locker (ahhhh), and yes he runs up the Art Museum steps (woooo!). I was exhausted just watching it. Hell I’m exhausted just writing about it.
All of this leads to the crux of the show, and the #1 reason to see it: The Fight. Everyone who assumed that this epic battle between Rocky and Apollo Creed could not be performed well on a stage is proved wrong. So…everyone. This is when it pays to pay more for good seats up front, because the first 8 or so rows of the center orchestra, called the “Golden Circle”, are taken up on stage ON A BROADWAY STAGE OMG to act as the arena’s audience to the fight. The big boxing ring comes front and center on the stage, and the lucky audience members sit behind this on bleachers, looking out onto the rest of the audience (chumps). Then, the entire set – the bleachers holding these audience members and the ring – moves out into the orchestra, where people had just been sitting! So the people sitting in the side orchestra seats are now sitting along the sides of the ring. It’s all pretty awesome, and then the fighting begins and it’s ridiculous. I don’t know how they do it other than assuming that they are actually beating the shit out of each other for like 20 minutes. Punches fly and, as far as I could tell, land. Sweat and blood drip off their faces, and in the light you can see whatever other substance flies off boxers when they get hit. It’s insane, and intense. HOW IS THIS HAPPENING? Seriously? I met Andy Karl after the show and he looked pretty and not dead, so it’s pure stage magic happening up there. It’s one of the coolest sequences to occur on a Broadway stage, and how great that it relies solely on two actors and not on crazy technology. In this way, the show is kind of old-fashioned, yet the show as a whole – in my view the first to handle sports successfully – is modern, risky, and a must-see.
“The Scottsboro Boys” in the West End: As Important to See As Ever, And As Great
Apologies if this is inappropriate when discussing such a serious show, but “The Scottsboro Boys” is like an off-the-rails Stefon sketch (but heavy-hearted). “It has everything: racism, rape, abusive prison guards, an Uncle Sam cracker, blackface, suicide, jokes about New Yorkers, Jew money, quitter minstrels…” “Quitter minstrels?” “It’s that thing of when black actors putting on a horribly racist minstrel show refuse to play along with the white ringleader any longer when the truth becomes too much to bear.”
“The Scottsboro Boys” really does present all of this and much more, in a gut-wrenching, unnerving portrayal of the heart-breaking true story. Actually, it doesn’t have one of the above-listed items: rape. “The Scottsboro Boys” tells the true and depressing story about 9 young black men and boys who were falsely accused of rape in 1931, by two white “Alabama ladies” who were trying to get out of being caught themselves for sneaking onto a train. In our modern society (which is pretty much the same on this issue as it has been throughout history because nothing has improved, really), it’s hard to latch on to the subject of women lying about sexual assault, since that happens only maybe 0.03% of the time yet is argued to be the case 100% of the time.
But the case of the Scottsboro Boys was one of those few times when it was indeed made up, when the allegations were completely and totally false, and it was easy to figure out that the entire years-long, hard-fought battle was a product of the south’s fostered racism. Alabama, where the boys were arrested and imprisoned for so many years, had a regime of punishing black people for no reason and it didn’t want to give up. And no matter how hard the north, the non-corrupt members of the judiciary, and even the Supreme Court wanted to change this regime, the south would not could not would never back down willingly from its tyranny.
Sounds like a perfect idea for a musical, right? Well it is. There’s a stupid stereotype about Broadway musicals out there, that they are pretty much live Disney princess movies where everything is happy and the music comes from people breaking into song due to happiness. People who think this way have probably not seen a musical in a theatre in the past 40 years or so. The majority of great musicals tell complicated stories. The format enhances storytelling of all sorts because, as no one could deny, music has the ability to convey all kinds of emotions and thoughts better than merely speaking can. “The Scottsboro Boys” works as a musical because we think it shouldn’t. The creative team (including music by Kander & Ebb) took this awful, depressing story of our actual history and made a musical version one would never expect: a minstrel show. In this manner, the story becomes even more grotesque and upsetting. The framing device, of a group of black actors telling this tale with high-stepping songs and big smiles (at least in the beginning), lets the audience see even more clearly how disgusting not just this story but all of America’s racist history (and present) is. Some of the songs done in the minstrel fashion are supposed to make you smile and then make you shudder in horror at the fact that you just smiled.
The show is difficult to get through at times, but it’s so worth it. We’ve heard endless awful stories coming out of this time period, but this one really hits you and hurts, due to how familiar and close we get with the characters. The talent on that stage is impressive, and nearly half the actors come from the original Broadway cast. I did not know this going in, because I am a Broadway snob and I assumed that if people I should know were over here, then I’d know it. I am a fool. A fool! The two main minstrels, Mr. Bones and Mr. Tambo, are played by Colman Domingo and Forrest McClendon. BOTH from the original Broadway cast, BOTH were nominated for featured actor Tony awards. I mean. I just had a momentary slip I guess. I was almost surprised to realize that McClendon was playing Mr. Tambo because his accent was sooo weird, so off-putting. I blamed it on the difficulty I’ve seen too much over here, of British actors butchering an American accent, then taken 4 steps further to make it Southern and comical. But he’s American. I guess it just works for the character but I wanted him to stop! The other original cast member was one of my faves – James T. Lane (who is from Philly and is my new friend), who does double duty as one of the boys and as one of the accusers, along with English actor Dex Lee. Even the White Man (or the Interlocutor), sort of running the minstrel show, is played by Julian Glover. Like, huge British actor that some people in the audience came specifically to see. I had no idea.
The main character is Haywood Patterson, a deep, illiterate, and pessimistic young man who based his life on always telling the truth, an ironic commitment here when telling the truth begets further punishment. While he’s sadly not portrayed by (the awesome and superb) Joshua Henry, the original Broadway cast member who was nominated for a Tony, he’s played by Brandon Victor Dixon, who originated the role off-Broadway and who is actually the one on the recording. (Side note: the off-Broadway company got a recording, so it wasn’t deemed necessary for the Broadway production. But now the London cast is getting a recording! Meaning, it’s pretty much the same people now because of Dixon in the lead again…conclusion, poor Joshua Henry.) Dixon was in “Motown: The Musical” last year and was nominated for “The Color Purple” back with ‘Tasia so he’s prettayyyy great. I just don’t know how I missed all this coming in.
We watch Haywood become a natural leader of this group of strangers, who eventually become more like brothers. We watch as one of the other boys teaches Haywood how to read and write. (This scene could have been more touching, but it was written extremely oddly – mostly about boobs and which letters look like them (spoiler: all of them?). It was very out of place.) Haywood is the character you most connect with and feel for, as his vow to uphold truth backfires in this corrupt judicial system, as he loses the chance to see his mother one last time, as he becomes the last one in prison.
I didn’t really just spoil it, saying that the others eventually get out of prison. There’s no happy ending, and it still takes many, many years before the youngest are first freed. As we learn in a sort of epilogue, freedom doesn’t do much, as their lives have already been destroyed. Most take their own lives, actively or passively letting themselves wither away instead of dealing with the world that knowingly did this to them. Haywood, who could have gotten paroled if he lied and admitted the crime, would never abandon his morals and instead died in jail. Yeah it’s a terrible damn story but it’s important to see. At times I actually had flashes of the thought “damn, I wish courts today paid half as much attention to sexual assault cases.” But the court didn’t give a damn about the supposed victims, or they would have actually listened to them when they recanted their false accusations. They just wanted to punish black people. That’s seriously what happened, and not that long ago either. It’s terrifying, and sad, and somehow the musical context enhances its poignancy. At the end, we learn from a movie-style written credit that the governor of Alabama officially pardoned the boys in 2013. Because the musical called attention to his state’s shitty history, not to pardon all the thousands of innocent black people who were and are victimized in similar ways. At least this story, when told in this very effective fashion, can elucidate the struggle that is still occurring. In that way, it’s a must-see.
Sounds like a perfect idea for a musical, right? Well it is. There’s a stupid stereotype about Broadway musicals out there, that they are pretty much live Disney princess movies where everything is happy and the music comes from people breaking into song due to happiness. People who think this way have probably not seen a musical in a theatre in the past 40 years or so. The majority of great musicals tell complicated stories. The format enhances storytelling of all sorts because, as no one could deny, music has the ability to convey all kinds of emotions and thoughts better than merely speaking can. “The Scottsboro Boys” works as a musical because we think it shouldn’t. The creative team (including music by Kander & Ebb) took this awful, depressing story of our actual history and made a musical version one would never expect: a minstrel show. In this manner, the story becomes even more grotesque and upsetting. The framing device, of a group of black actors telling this tale with high-stepping songs and big smiles (at least in the beginning), lets the audience see even more clearly how disgusting not just this story but all of America’s racist history (and present) is. Some of the songs done in the minstrel fashion are supposed to make you smile and then make you shudder in horror at the fact that you just smiled.
The show is difficult to get through at times, but it’s so worth it. We’ve heard endless awful stories coming out of this time period, but this one really hits you and hurts, due to how familiar and close we get with the characters. The talent on that stage is impressive, and nearly half the actors come from the original Broadway cast. I did not know this going in, because I am a Broadway snob and I assumed that if people I should know were over here, then I’d know it. I am a fool. A fool! The two main minstrels, Mr. Bones and Mr. Tambo, are played by Colman Domingo and Forrest McClendon. BOTH from the original Broadway cast, BOTH were nominated for featured actor Tony awards. I mean. I just had a momentary slip I guess. I was almost surprised to realize that McClendon was playing Mr. Tambo because his accent was sooo weird, so off-putting. I blamed it on the difficulty I’ve seen too much over here, of British actors butchering an American accent, then taken 4 steps further to make it Southern and comical. But he’s American. I guess it just works for the character but I wanted him to stop! The other original cast member was one of my faves – James T. Lane (who is from Philly and is my new friend), who does double duty as one of the boys and as one of the accusers, along with English actor Dex Lee. Even the White Man (or the Interlocutor), sort of running the minstrel show, is played by Julian Glover. Like, huge British actor that some people in the audience came specifically to see. I had no idea.
The main character is Haywood Patterson, a deep, illiterate, and pessimistic young man who based his life on always telling the truth, an ironic commitment here when telling the truth begets further punishment. While he’s sadly not portrayed by (the awesome and superb) Joshua Henry, the original Broadway cast member who was nominated for a Tony, he’s played by Brandon Victor Dixon, who originated the role off-Broadway and who is actually the one on the recording. (Side note: the off-Broadway company got a recording, so it wasn’t deemed necessary for the Broadway production. But now the London cast is getting a recording! Meaning, it’s pretty much the same people now because of Dixon in the lead again…conclusion, poor Joshua Henry.) Dixon was in “Motown: The Musical” last year and was nominated for “The Color Purple” back with ‘Tasia so he’s prettayyyy great. I just don’t know how I missed all this coming in.
We watch Haywood become a natural leader of this group of strangers, who eventually become more like brothers. We watch as one of the other boys teaches Haywood how to read and write. (This scene could have been more touching, but it was written extremely oddly – mostly about boobs and which letters look like them (spoiler: all of them?). It was very out of place.) Haywood is the character you most connect with and feel for, as his vow to uphold truth backfires in this corrupt judicial system, as he loses the chance to see his mother one last time, as he becomes the last one in prison.
I didn’t really just spoil it, saying that the others eventually get out of prison. There’s no happy ending, and it still takes many, many years before the youngest are first freed. As we learn in a sort of epilogue, freedom doesn’t do much, as their lives have already been destroyed. Most take their own lives, actively or passively letting themselves wither away instead of dealing with the world that knowingly did this to them. Haywood, who could have gotten paroled if he lied and admitted the crime, would never abandon his morals and instead died in jail. Yeah it’s a terrible damn story but it’s important to see. At times I actually had flashes of the thought “damn, I wish courts today paid half as much attention to sexual assault cases.” But the court didn’t give a damn about the supposed victims, or they would have actually listened to them when they recanted their false accusations. They just wanted to punish black people. That’s seriously what happened, and not that long ago either. It’s terrifying, and sad, and somehow the musical context enhances its poignancy. At the end, we learn from a movie-style written credit that the governor of Alabama officially pardoned the boys in 2013. Because the musical called attention to his state’s shitty history, not to pardon all the thousands of innocent black people who were and are victimized in similar ways. At least this story, when told in this very effective fashion, can elucidate the struggle that is still occurring. In that way, it’s a must-see.
