January 19, 2023
How to Fix “Sleepless” the Musicalby Randi / December 19, 2019Moby Dick at the A.R.T: An Epic that No One but Dave Malloy Could Attempt
It’s the first Theatre Thursday of the year! What better show to celebrate with than this monster opus, playing at Boston’s American Repertory Theatre until January 12.
The long-anticipated musical version of the classic book Moby Dick is exactly what we expected from Dave Malloy, one of our favorite modern composers: it’s riveting, interesting, unique, too long, needs to be edited, and contains real brilliance. Telling the well-known tale of the for-sure nuts captain obsessed with the white whale and hell bent on killing it even if he takes his whole crew down with him, Moby Dick contains, as Ron Swanson said, “no frou frou symbolism; just a good honest tale about a man who hates an animal.” Just kidding, it’s all symbolism baby, some of the most well recognized symbolism in all of American literature, and Malloy and director Rachel Chavkin have presented a wild and weird, completely unexpected telling of the story. While the second act needs work (and I don’t expect Broadway audiences to happily sit through a two-hour long first act (yes we will talk at length about the peeing situation later)), the first was absolutely giddily brilliant, and the show as a whole is, like its titular whale, a special beast.
And yes, I did say the first act is two hours long. The show as a whole is 3 hours 25 minutes, which is Long but feels Right for such an epic tale. That first act is one of my favorite things I’ve seen at least this year. It feels magical, like a privilege to be there. By having the actor playing Ishmael, Manik Choksi (“Dolokov was in the Caucasus and he killed the shah’s brotherrrr”), talk to us as himself first, commenting on how he feels today in America as a person of color and wanting to see a stage filled with who he considers his America, it did two things: a) it confirmed that Chavkin productions are the most consciously diverse in the entire world, and b) it sealed this experience as one we were all in together, as did further breaking of the 4th wall in other instances, and the fact that the house lights were up for so much of it. This show is an adventure that the team makes sure the audience feels an important part of, making the whole thing extra meaningful. (Although Choksi’s little introduction to us feels out of order, since Dawn L. Troupe has already sung a prologue in character by that point.)
Like the book, this musical is an epic journey, although there are no exceedingly boring bits. Even things that should be cut are still interesting, and the show as a whole is special. But the magic is in that first half. Malloy throws everything into the pot and stirs it with some incredible music, new but still sounding like him, along with straight vaudeville scenes, as well as stand-up comedy. There’s everything going on, and somehow it all feels like part of the same whole. The scientific lessons about whales are done with a humorous touch, meta-critiquing how boring it is in the book. I could have done without the “The Whale as a Dish” song, a ‘funny’ cooking show sort-of take about eating whale meat which is so unnecessary that cutting it wouldn’t change anything, despite how incredible a performer Stubb (Kalyn West) is, moving like a gumby-sort of cartoon character the whole time. The greatest segment of this vaudeville section is the character- and 4th wall-breaking stand-up from Fedallah, Eric Berryman, who takes the opportunity to decry how this ‘exotic foreign’ character was treated in the book AND to call out Malloy and Chavkin’s extra wokeness with their commitment to diversity onstage. It’s a sort of timeout for everyone, and it is absolutely brilliant, giving everyone both a breather and a challenge to their perspective.
Some of the music is magnificent, especially Ahab’s first song (when the band starts picking up, wow), early movements I don’t know the name of because unlike the jackwagon next to us we don’t read the program the entire time??, and the lovely, calm “A Squeeze of the Hand”. Others need work, like Starbuck’s big song before the act break, “Dusk”, which needs to be moving and big but feels lackluster despite her performance. The line about “something ties me to this man and I’ve no knife to cut the line” is okay, but not strong enough to be repeated so much and to hang everything on.
During the first act ‘pause’, about 15 audience members are recruited to join the cast onstage for the rest of the act – in ponchos, and then put in onstage boats and used in all sorts of hilarious amazing ways. Volunteer for this. Do not be like me and get scared and put your hand down. It looked like the funnest, funniest thing ever. There are some blood spurts as they kill a whale (you have to put your vegan blinders on for this one, p.s.) with the abstract representation seeming shockingly real, but that’s what the ponchos are for.
The second act lacks the magical spark that we felt in the first act, even though it’s objectively well done. The first section after the break is entirely about the child castaway character Pip, and it is heart-breaking and moving (with a great performance from Morgan Siobhan Green), though it seems inconsistent with what came before. The second part is the climax as the Pequod sets upon the white whale, and this is where everything – except Tom Nelis’s literally flawless performance as Ahab – falls short. This is the big exciting exhilarating climax – or it should be, but the only staging to show the electrifying action is flashing the lights almost a dozen times. It’s tiring, this blinding flashing, and pretty annoying actually, and doesn’t accomplish any of what these moments should be showing. The ending needs to be bigger and bolder. And having the two sailors, often shown chatting at their lookout up the mast, having another tête-à-tête at the end did not work (along with all but their first such scene). It was very randomly and suddenly The Good Place, with their acknowledging they will die but giving a very ‘why not still try?’ vibe, which felt misplaced and didn’t fit the rest of the show at all. (Also, that line about whale sounds’ different rhythms coming together ‘like West African polyrhythms’ is a REAL clunker, oof.)
But overall, this was one of the most interesting, ambitious projects I’ve had the privilege of seeing. It strives for so much, maybe too much, and definitely needs to be refined before Broadway, but man alive if this isn’t some of the coolest, boldest theatre. It feels right that Malloy be the person to musicalize this epic story, and it can, and should, become an epic in its own right.
INFORMATION
The first thing in my notes: “21:24 intermission I DID IT!”
So the first act is just shy of two hours, with the 5-minute pause coming at the 50 minute mark. That pause is when they pick the audience volunteers. You can’t leave during the pause, but even if you did, even if you have the aisle seat next to the door, you couldn’t hit the bathrooms and back in that time because they are DOWNSTAIRS. It’s a very high school setup. The bathrooms are unassigned gender-wise, open to be used as one sees fit, which should be fine with everyone but caused a lot of conversation among the older crowd (mostly confusion about where to go). The line at intermission went all the way up the stairs and past the bar and just about back to the doors to the theatre, so, yeah, run.
Happily, there is a water refill port downstairs with the bathrooms.
The second half is just about an hour 10 minutes, with the show ending at 22:54. There is merchandise for sale from this show as well as ART’s big successes in recent years, including Malloy’s Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 and my favorite Pippin revival of all time.
Related Posts
Our Lady of Kibeho at Stratford East: Super Interesting Story, Super Uneven Tone
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Our Lady of Kibeho, playing at London’s Stratford East theatre until Nov. 2, when I imagine the Virgin Mary will appear to burn it all down.
Like the Catholic Church doesn’t have enough bad PR going for it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Our Lady of Kibeho, the 2014 play written by Katori Hall, was a hit job to make sensible people hate the church’s reps even more vehemently. Faaack, those are some assholes on that stage! If you can get past how absolutely awful 98% of the characters are, you may enjoy Kibeho as it tells the true story (I mean as true a story as people seeing visions of the Virgin Mary can be, no offense but what) of the girls at Kibeho college in Rwanda who saw said visions of the virgin in 1981. Mary showed them predictions of the coming Rwandan genocide, which is incredibly harrowing and infuriating that no one believed them and did anything to stop it, but then again what could they have done to stop it? (Also, query whether it was a self-fulfilling prophesy? Dark.)
In Kibeho, Alphonsine (a very winning Taz Munya), whose father I assume is named Alphonso because otherwise why, but also even if that’s the reason oof, has seizure-inducing visions of the Virgin Mary (you don’t know this but in my head I’m saying it ‘wirgin’ because I just watched a video of a German man speaking). Of course, nobody believes her, because organized religion is largely composed of unbelievably shitty people (see, e.g., 98% of churches in America; the aforementioned Catholic church; &c.). The Father and Sister and Bishop of the school yell at her, which is some BULLSHIRT. Your entire thang is based on just believing what you’re supposed to believe because you, well, just BELIEVE (see, e.g. The Book of Mormon for this sentence put to music) and instead of believing her or really even asking if the girl who keeps having seizures is okay, ffs, you yell at her and sic the meanest mean girls in school on her instead? WHY ARE PEOPLE. Ugh I was so, so angry for most of this show, wanting to sprint up to that stage and punch Sister Evangelique (suchhh a Pose house name!) and Marie-Claire in the face and the Bishop man in their mean faces.
Luckily (?), another girl, Anathalie (I honestly kept thinking they were saying ‘ah, Natalie’ every time) starts having the visions too. They still get bullied and no one else believes them and the other mean girls beat them? and the Sister Pose torments them? I do not get how any of these people can make a claim to be close to god but alas, that’s organized religion. Anyway, luckily (?) Marie-Claire, the Regina George of Rwanda but meaner, starts seeing the visions too and seizuring all about that beeyatch, so the Vatican comes a-calling.
Now, holy shit, truly holy shit, is the Vatican rep the worst man ever. Katori Hall is SAYING SOME SHIT with this muhfucka. He literally stabs the girls during their visions because if they were really having religious visions, they wouldn’t feel pain or whatever. SURE SEEMS LEGIT. Must he, MUST he stab them in the chest for this test? Not the arm? Even the leg? But the chest? As exasperating as that question is (my heart was pounding louder than the show), I have another one for you – what kind of monsters tasked with being in charge of these girls (the sister, the father, the bishop, inter alia assorted fuckers) allows this to happen? UGH THIS IS HOW WE GOT HERE.
Anyway, aside from the fury raging like flames, flames, flames, on the side of my face, this show is pretty interesting. There are scenes, especially the ends of each act, where I was completely swept up in the onstage action, completely oblivious to my loud heart and the loud people around me. There are moments of brilliance, especially among the girls. However, the adults, especially the men, were uniformly weak, but more importantly oddly directed by James Dacre. Instead of sticking to what made sense for their characters (sure they can be total assholes, that’s normal in all plays, but make it make sense in the show), so many lines were delivered as cheap laugh grabs, when it made no sense for the story or the character. Sure, the audience loved it – audience love cheap laugh grabs; they do work – but it took me out of the story and made me into my favorite gif, the one of the little blonde toddler making a ‘what the hell?’ face. I was mimicking that amazing toddler for way too much of this show, at so many confusing, bizarre line deliveries, when it could have otherwise been pretty strong and cohesive, and of course unsettling and disturbing since we know what came next.
INFORMATION
The show is playing at Stratford East, east of London by the Olympic Park, until November 2. There are 4 stalls in the ladies toilet. The stalls are single rows (no center aisle) so if you get claustro get lower-numbered seats (those are nearer the side by the exit. I had an aisle seat of course but on the wrong side, oops).
Bridges at the Menier Chocolate Factory: A Disservice to the Music
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is The Bridges of Madison County at the Menier Chocolate Factory. Listen to the original cast album instead.
Jason Robert Brown’s nearly impeccable score for The Bridges of Madison County, one of the most gorgeous in musical theatre, begins with the riveting introduction “To Build a Home”, in which Francesca recounts leaving a war-torn Italy and building a life for the past few decades in farmland America with her U.S. soldier husband. As soon as this song began in the original production and redefined what the word ‘Iowa’ could be, you knew this show was going to be special. However, as soon as it begins in this particular production at the Menier Chocolate Factory, you know this show is going to be long. Francesca famously sings “This is Albany…this is Buffalo…this is Cleveland…this is South Bend…” as she travels deeper into the USA. I found myself rewriting these lyrics during the rest of the show: “This is tedious…this is terrible…this is wearisome…this is boring…” And I must remind you, this is one of my favorite musicals of all time.
Now, I’m a fan of Jenna Russell, a beloved fixture of London theatre (seriously though, it’s like the West End casts the same people over and over; where is the London Bernie Tesley when you need one?), but she and her costar Edward Baker-Duly (as the love interest Robert) are so miscast as to make you wonder if the casting directors were forking with everyone, or high. They’re definitely at least high, along with director Trevor Nunn. Yes, Nunn, the celebrated director who recently helmed a wonderful Fiddler at the Menier, is also the wrong fit for this show, making it longer (as you’d expect with him) but also mind-numbingly dull. In theory, the smaller theatre should work for this intimate show, but it just makes it easier to see what’s wrong.
If you don’t know Bridges, the whole point of this story is to watch two people fall in love when they shouldn’t, and to feel their chemistry and understand their deep love even though you know it shouldn’t exist and can’t last. Maybe you know the famous Meryl Streep-Crazy Old Man movie, maybe you know the book; if so, you know this is a paperbook romance kind of jawn and you gotta just lean in and love it. With the musical version, you feel their love through the music, this soaring, heartrending music that beautifully lets you understand their love and maybe think that it should exist after all. There’s not a lot of plot to that – the success of the musical relies entirely on watching the chemistry build between these two characters, which in turn relies entirely on expression through the music.
But when the score isn’t sung as it’s meant to be, then no emotion gets expressed, and no chemistry builds, and the whole foundation of the musical is lost, with nothing for anything else to build upon. The original stars, Kelli O’Hara and Steven Pasquale, are supremely beautiful people, which helped their insane chemistry set that stage on fire. But they also have some of the most powerfully gorgeous voices in the world, and they were so skillful at expressing a gamut of emotion and thoughtfulness through this music that they set new benchmarks in musical theatre. Here, the leads can barely eke out the right notes, and when they hit them, they do not soar; they are barely audible. The actors are also markedly older, which the show semi-acknowledges by changing the ‘for 18 years’ line in the opening number to ‘for 20 years’, although that’s not really it chief. The age increase works on paper, to have Francesca’s loneliness and longing even more long-standing, but it’s still simply the wrong actors. There is no passion, and this show relies on passion. The two have a bit of chemistry, but not the required bucketloads, and it only extends to each other and not to the audience. The entire first act is literally watching these two wrestle with their emotions (while the second is watching them literally wrestle) as their attraction builds and builds. Here, with nothing simmering on the stage, there’s literally nothing happening, nothing to watch, nothing to experience, and the first act is like watching paint dry. And with no soaring vocals, there’s no story to tell, no characters to build. For example, the second act song “Almost Real”, one of the most brilliant character backstory songs written, helps you understand everything Francesca ever thought and felt and how she made her decisions that led her here – if done right. (I also didn’t enjoy Nunn’s addition of having Chiara, Francesca’s sister, say the relevant lines while Francesca sang them.) It’s honestly a shame above all that these exceptional songs aren’t given their due.
The supporting cast fares much better, though how much of that is a result of comparison is a good question. The much-loved Joni-Mitchell-esque song “Another Life” was a bit of a disappointment, with the actress playing Robert’s ex-wife never really capturing the emotion it requires (theme o’ the day), but she still sounded lovely. The comical neighbors Marge and Charlie were wonderful, with Gillian Kirkpatrick stealing every scene she could, and Paul F. Monaghan performing a lovely rendition of “When I’m Gone”, a soulful gospel-y song that without fail makes me cry at its simple but profound lyrics, although the too-long between-verse staging here was overblown. Even Bud (Dale Rapley), Francesca’s thick but well-meaning husband, came off amazingly, and I found myself eager for him to return to the stage even for his super depressing song, just because it meant the leads were off. When that’s the dynamic of Bridges, you know something is wrong. And when the godforsaken “State Road 21” is the best performed song in the show, you really know something is wrong.
To top off all the distressing disappointment on display here, every single song was at least a full beat too slow, adding a good 15 minutes to the run time and making every song, already fucked from the poor casting and direction, sound like a dirge. They did this show dirty, and it deserves better.
INFORMATION
Bridges at the Menier (anyone else think ‘layches on the men-jay’ from I Love You, Man? No, just me?) runs about 2 hours 50 minutes and will play until September 14. If you want to look at your watch every two minutes to see if time is magically moving as quickly as you’d like, then by all means get tickets to this show – it won’t be hard; there were tons of empty seats on a Saturday night (which is a shame for any show, no matter how poorly I think of it). But if you want to appreciate one of the most gorgeous scores ever written for musical theatre as it should be experienced, then just watch this instead:
2 Comments
Wow what a wonderful review. I wish you kept your hand up and gotten picked … I could say my daughter the broadway star
How were the Boston peeps in the audience ? Did they behave ?
❤️
They were pretty good except that guy next to us who was reading the program for the first half hour and somehow made it really loud!!!