Vegan in Jamaica? Yah Mon!by Randi / February 26, 2020It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Leopoldstadt, playing at London’s Wyndham’s Theatre in an open-ended run.
I mean, man alive. If you want to feel like you’ve been punched in the gut but are really grateful for it, then you are ready for Tom Stoppard’s new, and possibly his last, play Leopoldstadt. Following an extended Jewish family from 1899 in Vienna until, well, later, the play is a heavy exploration of how this family’s fortunes changed from one generation to the next and how their country treated them over time. The giant cast and the constantly changing ages of the characters prevent real attachment to any individual – or real grasping of who’s who – but the details are less important than the serious emotional pull created in this powerful work.
And that emotional heft is considerable. Despite not fully understanding how each relative was connected (there’s a family tree in the programme, but good luck keeping it all straight (you won’t!)), those particulars weren’t necessary to understand who these people were and to care in general about what was going to happen as we get further into the 20th century. The play achieves an almost immediate sense of intimacy with this family, helped by little glimpses of how all the members interact, throwing us right into their gatherings and conversations without wasting time explaining. The visuals help as well, with the lush Christmas celebration at the start and the same room slowly changing, and dwindling, scene by scene.
The family quickly feels familiar, even though with each scene change and time jump you have new faces to put to somewhat-old names as well as new names and faces to try to connect to those old names you sort of remember. (Don’t think about it too hard, too too hard.) When the names do stick, the payoff is remarkable (especially when you think e.g. ‘oh that little tot Heini is supes adorbs’ and then at the last part of the show you squeaky cry remembering who he is). We follow the family through a changing Vienna and a changing Leopoldstadt, the Jewish quarter, as they go from well-to-do members of the business community, to people forbidden from working, owning property, being citizens of their own land. You know what’s coming, but it never feels predictable, only powerful.
I’m fascinated by how a master playwright can take aspects of a show that would otherwise be somewhat trying and make it wonderful. The broken cup coming on the night of broken glass felt poetic and not at all transparent. There’s a lot of speechifying in this show, the sort where I’d often be like ‘ALRIGHT WRAP IT UP CUBA’ and think about how much more effective and efficient it would have been to express those ideas shared through dialogue or action. But the long monologues, especially between the two brothers in the first scene on what it means to be Jewish and never be able to stop being it, I found riveting. Despite several long speeches, breadth of characters instead of depth, and the overall feeling of impending doom, I never felt antsy (nor did I consider how I would fix this show, which as you know is one of my main hobbies).
As usual with plays of this subject matter, the relevance for society today is pretty overwhelming. It’s an important, powerful play that’s aware of its importance without being obvious about it. There’s so much for audiences to learn from it, especially London audiences (including one lesson from Fritz, an asshole for sure, as I wish more anti-Semites would take their lead from him and refuse to fight Jews. I mean that would help a lot of American rallies for one thing.)
All my belly-aching about how Jews and Jewishness are treated (spoiler: badly) in London theatre, and Stoppard comes along with a play doing everything right. Patrick Marber’s direction is great (jew!), Tom’s son Ed is acting in it (jew!), and not to assume things but at least some of the many Jewish-sounding names in the cast have to pan out (jews!). Aside from sobbing at the end so hard that I had literally yoga breathe to not make squeaky noises in the silent theatre, I left feeling pleased with what this powerful show does to improve London’s track record in this regard.
INFORMATION
The show is 2 ½ hours. Act I ended at 20:30 on the dot, so it’s a rare occurrence of a second act being longer but the play still being good.
We sat for the first time at Wyndham’s in the stalls boxes – it’s a private box but instead of up the sides of the theatre, it’s behind the last row of the stalls at ground level. None of the ushers seemed to know how to get to it (it has its own door from outside!) but luckily the house manager who took care of us was amazing. Weird, but we kind of loved it! There’s no one whispering behind you! No one around you bothering the everloving fork out of you! No one in front who you can see trying and failing to sneakily use their phones on their laps (although the people in front of us were full on Seinfeld-at-Schindler’s-Listing, which is forking nonsense. you’re at a HOLOCAUST SHOW. have some g-d DECENCY). Anyway would sit again.
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Broadway’s “Fun Home”: Setting A Very High & Necessary Bar For The Future Of Musical Theatre
My Playbill signed by Alison Bechdel herself, who was in my audience. Or, I was in her audience.
“Fun Home” is the kind of musical theatre that makes you grateful for the art form. Rarely are we treated to any art or entertainment that doesn’t cater to the lowest common denominator in our society or at least dumb itself down to appeal to the ignint masses. “Fun Home”, in contrast, treats its audience like intelligent, thinking people, and we are gifted the most heart-aching, mature, and deep show in years.
People think “Broadway Musical” should mean something diverting, with fun and dancing and repetitive, catchy songs about trivial happy things. And some shows are and should be like that. But modern shows need to challenge the genre and the audience in new ways to keep it growing and improving. New scores should develop emotions in ways words can’t; that’s kind of the point of having music in a play or like in the world, to express what words can’t. “Next to Normal” did all this and was revolutionary and boundary-pushing, but that was 6 or so years ago; nothing since has been up to the challenge.
Until now. “Fun Home” picks up that gauntlet thrown by “Next to Normal” and runs farther than ever. I think “Fun Home” will catch on and become more popular, and will continue to break barriers in this kind of storytelling. It seems like a really unlikely musical, given its subject matter, but it geniusly uses music to deepen its storytelling rather than embellish. The result is far more important and remarkable than anyone would have predicted.
“Fun Home” is based on the graphic novel of the same name by Alison Bechdel. If that name sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve heard of the Bechdel Test for movies: when two female characters are in a scene together and talk about something other than a man, it passes. (Movies rarely pass this test.) So Bechdel is professionally a very noteworthy modern voice. Her personal story, on the other hand, is the basis for the novel and the show; Tony winner Lisa Kron wrote the show’s book based tightly on its source material. It chronicles Alison’s upbringing in a small country town of Pennsylvania, from when she’s a little kid discovering herself and her sexuality; to when she’s a college student accepting who she is while learning more about her disciplined and particular father; to the modern-day adult looking back on her relationship with her father. Bruce Bechdel, a very rigid and exacting man, hid his own homosexuality his entire life. The story is told from grown-up Alison’s perspective as she looks back on her childhood and tries to come to grips with her father’s suicide (not a spoiler, real person, point of show). So, yeah, not the most expected story for a Broadway musical, but it works so well that you’ll be questioning your assumptions about everything, not just musical theatre.
Grown-up Alison (played by a superb Beth Malone (Tony nominee)) takes us on a tour through her memories of her younger years, as she tries to accurately recall the memories to draw, as her comics were what helped her deal with her complicated relationship with her father. As she revisits her childhood museum-like home, the funeral home her family ran (hence the title, what they referred to it as, the ‘fun home’), and different moments with her family, we watch with her as she witnesses her childhood memories being lived by the younger versions of herself (Sydney Lucas as Young Alison, an absolute legend in the making, and Emily Skeggs as Middle Alison (both Tony nominees)). She laughs along with us as she sees her little self and her little brothers stage a hilarious musical commercial for the fun home. Watching little kids pop out of caskets and dance on them is shocking and hilarious and the happiest time of the heavy show. She smiles along with us at the most poignant moments in her life, like when her younger self, always yearning for contact with her father, goes ‘flying’, balancing on Bruce’s feet as he lies down with his legs up, a happy memory of the best of their relationship that remains untarnished. Just thinking about that moment makes me cry.
Young Alison’s relationship with her father is the crux of this story, and it’s a wonder. You clearly see that they have a bond but one that is easily strained, especially when she pushes his rigid lines and rules. She doesn’t want to wear barrettes or dresses, but he can’t allow the blurring of gender boundaries, an obvious result of his hidden side and the shame he feels at not being what he feels he’s supposed to be. Their beautiful house is decorated perfectly with antiques and museum-worthy furniture that he dictates be positioned exactly as he says. He controls fastidiously anything he can because he can’t control himself or his urges as he believes he should. And you see all this so well in the subtle and poignant portrayal of Bruce by Michael Cerveris, the great. His Tony win was completely deserved; his portrayal is beautiful and crushing and I was rooting for him even though he’s a past winner (I am usually socialist in my awards decisions but not for him). His nuanced Bruce makes you feel terrible for his tragic persona even when his inability to control his urges leads him to make terrible decisions, like leaving his little kids alone in a NYC apartment so he can go cruising, or having flings with his underage high school students. It’s this loving but lacking relationship with his young daughter that makes it so hard to watch as it strains further, as she grows and becomes more self aware as a college student. Middle Alison accepts and embraces her personality and her sexuality as a young lesbian, and with this evolution her relationship with her father weakens, because he can never accept himself as his daughter has learned to do. Her coming out is barely acknowledged by her family, not out of disrespect or denial but because it would shatter the very fragile world her parents strived to keep balanced. And yes, her mother (Judy Kuhn) was aware and struggled her whole life to keep quiet and pretend that everything was fine.
Bruce and Alison’s final encounter is so perfectly and tragically portrayed as a silent car ride, with Alison, the grown-up who never got to spend time with her father, taking over the memory from Middle Alison. Beth Malone tearfully sings to her former self to say something to her father before the chance is gone, yelling to hurry up before the ride is over, as she knows in hindsight that it soon will be.
This story would work as a play, sure, but the music makes it so much more felt and heart-breaking. One of the best songs, “Ring of Keys”, is a startled realization that little Alison can dress however she wants, when she sees “an old-school butch”, as her older self remembers and explains (and as CBS/the FCC f-ing had them change on their Tony Awards performance because I guess some Americans aren’t okay with the word butch???!!!). Sydney’s performance of this song is so thoughtful and natural and incredible that it’s hard to believe she’s a child. No child actor has ever been this talented in history. It’s why she was considered the front-runner for the Tony Awards. Her fiercest competition was thought to be not from winner Ruthie Ann Miles (for “The King & I”) but from the actress who plays her mother, the great Judy Kuhn. Quiet, clearly long-suffering, she surprises us when she tells her college aged daughter about her father’s secret and that she’s known for, well, for “Days & Days & Days”, as her astounding, stunning big song goes. She freaking kills it, sharing how hard it has been to silently let her husband dictate and destroy their lives and how she sat by and watched for so long as nothing changed. In just one song, Kuhn defines and redefines her entire character’s story and adds new layers of wrenching emotion to the show as a whole. It must be such a pleasure to play a complex character for once (Kuhn originated the thankless role of Cosette in the original Broadway production of “Les Miserables”).
“Fun Home” is a flawless show that in only 100 minutes presents such depth and range of emotion and experience and it is all completely spell-binding. That it won the Tony Award shows that audiences and musical theatre as a genre are both ready to be treated with respect and given art that is worthy of being called art. (Of course, last night’s premature closure of “The Visit” argues in the opposite direction but we can’t win every battle.) I hope everyone sees it, learns from it, and remembers it as a benchmark for future shows. This is the direction Broadway needs to move in, and it’s a relief that people seem to accept that.
“Fun Home” is based on the graphic novel of the same name by Alison Bechdel. If that name sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve heard of the Bechdel Test for movies: when two female characters are in a scene together and talk about something other than a man, it passes. (Movies rarely pass this test.) So Bechdel is professionally a very noteworthy modern voice. Her personal story, on the other hand, is the basis for the novel and the show; Tony winner Lisa Kron wrote the show’s book based tightly on its source material. It chronicles Alison’s upbringing in a small country town of Pennsylvania, from when she’s a little kid discovering herself and her sexuality; to when she’s a college student accepting who she is while learning more about her disciplined and particular father; to the modern-day adult looking back on her relationship with her father. Bruce Bechdel, a very rigid and exacting man, hid his own homosexuality his entire life. The story is told from grown-up Alison’s perspective as she looks back on her childhood and tries to come to grips with her father’s suicide (not a spoiler, real person, point of show). So, yeah, not the most expected story for a Broadway musical, but it works so well that you’ll be questioning your assumptions about everything, not just musical theatre.
Grown-up Alison (played by a superb Beth Malone (Tony nominee)) takes us on a tour through her memories of her younger years, as she tries to accurately recall the memories to draw, as her comics were what helped her deal with her complicated relationship with her father. As she revisits her childhood museum-like home, the funeral home her family ran (hence the title, what they referred to it as, the ‘fun home’), and different moments with her family, we watch with her as she witnesses her childhood memories being lived by the younger versions of herself (Sydney Lucas as Young Alison, an absolute legend in the making, and Emily Skeggs as Middle Alison (both Tony nominees)). She laughs along with us as she sees her little self and her little brothers stage a hilarious musical commercial for the fun home. Watching little kids pop out of caskets and dance on them is shocking and hilarious and the happiest time of the heavy show. She smiles along with us at the most poignant moments in her life, like when her younger self, always yearning for contact with her father, goes ‘flying’, balancing on Bruce’s feet as he lies down with his legs up, a happy memory of the best of their relationship that remains untarnished. Just thinking about that moment makes me cry.
Young Alison’s relationship with her father is the crux of this story, and it’s a wonder. You clearly see that they have a bond but one that is easily strained, especially when she pushes his rigid lines and rules. She doesn’t want to wear barrettes or dresses, but he can’t allow the blurring of gender boundaries, an obvious result of his hidden side and the shame he feels at not being what he feels he’s supposed to be. Their beautiful house is decorated perfectly with antiques and museum-worthy furniture that he dictates be positioned exactly as he says. He controls fastidiously anything he can because he can’t control himself or his urges as he believes he should. And you see all this so well in the subtle and poignant portrayal of Bruce by Michael Cerveris, the great. His Tony win was completely deserved; his portrayal is beautiful and crushing and I was rooting for him even though he’s a past winner (I am usually socialist in my awards decisions but not for him). His nuanced Bruce makes you feel terrible for his tragic persona even when his inability to control his urges leads him to make terrible decisions, like leaving his little kids alone in a NYC apartment so he can go cruising, or having flings with his underage high school students. It’s this loving but lacking relationship with his young daughter that makes it so hard to watch as it strains further, as she grows and becomes more self aware as a college student. Middle Alison accepts and embraces her personality and her sexuality as a young lesbian, and with this evolution her relationship with her father weakens, because he can never accept himself as his daughter has learned to do. Her coming out is barely acknowledged by her family, not out of disrespect or denial but because it would shatter the very fragile world her parents strived to keep balanced. And yes, her mother (Judy Kuhn) was aware and struggled her whole life to keep quiet and pretend that everything was fine.
Bruce and Alison’s final encounter is so perfectly and tragically portrayed as a silent car ride, with Alison, the grown-up who never got to spend time with her father, taking over the memory from Middle Alison. Beth Malone tearfully sings to her former self to say something to her father before the chance is gone, yelling to hurry up before the ride is over, as she knows in hindsight that it soon will be.
This story would work as a play, sure, but the music makes it so much more felt and heart-breaking. One of the best songs, “Ring of Keys”, is a startled realization that little Alison can dress however she wants, when she sees “an old-school butch”, as her older self remembers and explains (and as CBS/the FCC f-ing had them change on their Tony Awards performance because I guess some Americans aren’t okay with the word butch???!!!). Sydney’s performance of this song is so thoughtful and natural and incredible that it’s hard to believe she’s a child. No child actor has ever been this talented in history. It’s why she was considered the front-runner for the Tony Awards. Her fiercest competition was thought to be not from winner Ruthie Ann Miles (for “The King & I”) but from the actress who plays her mother, the great Judy Kuhn. Quiet, clearly long-suffering, she surprises us when she tells her college aged daughter about her father’s secret and that she’s known for, well, for “Days & Days & Days”, as her astounding, stunning big song goes. She freaking kills it, sharing how hard it has been to silently let her husband dictate and destroy their lives and how she sat by and watched for so long as nothing changed. In just one song, Kuhn defines and redefines her entire character’s story and adds new layers of wrenching emotion to the show as a whole. It must be such a pleasure to play a complex character for once (Kuhn originated the thankless role of Cosette in the original Broadway production of “Les Miserables”).
“Fun Home” is a flawless show that in only 100 minutes presents such depth and range of emotion and experience and it is all completely spell-binding. That it won the Tony Award shows that audiences and musical theatre as a genre are both ready to be treated with respect and given art that is worthy of being called art. (Of course, last night’s premature closure of “The Visit” argues in the opposite direction but we can’t win every battle.) I hope everyone sees it, learns from it, and remembers it as a benchmark for future shows. This is the direction Broadway needs to move in, and it’s a relief that people seem to accept that.
Broadway’s Revival of “My Fair Lady”: I Could Have Watched This Shit All Night, Every Night
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today we are talking about the new revival of “My Fair Lady” at New York’s Lincoln Center.
I always felt that I knew “My Fair Lady” really well, even though I don’t even remember even seeing the movie. But the score is part of mainstream culture and you know the original story if you’re alive/have read mythology/have read Shaw/have read anything really/seen Freddie Prinze Jr. movies – haughty gentleman takes a bet that he can transform a poor, lower class girl into a well-mannered, well-spoken lady who can pass for upper class. Given that the framework here is of a story we’ve seen in one form or another, I expected to enjoy a high quality production but not be blown away. What could they do to make this simple story seem important? Well, a lot. I don’t know what I was thinking, because of course it was another perfect Lincoln Center + Bartlett Sher production of a classic musical, mining every ounce of emotion and intelligence and creating an experience so sublime and emotionally challenging that I’m still thinking about it constantly. I thought I knew “My Fair Lady”, but this production proved that I did not know what it was capable of. It’s one of those theatre events that I feel supremely lucky to have witnessed.
With a running time of three hours, “My Fair Lady” risks leaving modern, restless audiences bored at times and waiting for the end, or so I assumed. My attention span is dictated by my bladder so such long acts posed quite the potential threat to me. But instead, every single instant was riveting. I never wanted scenes, songs, moments to end. I would have been happy to sit there for twice as long if the extra three hours would have been equally enthralling and as precisely molded. This is not a thing I would ever say lightly, because I’m always tired and I always have to pee, yet here we are.
Most of the expert, meticulous perfection comes from the cast and the director, Bartlett Sher, who knows his way around a golden age classic as well as he does the Vivian Beaumont theatre. It’s well-written too, of course – this show has been so beloved for so long for a reason – but this production takes those bones and makes more of them than I could ever have predicted. The simple story, the question of how successful Henry Higgins’s training will be and how strong Eliza’s Stockholm Syndrome will become, all feel so much more complicated and important. From the first moment we meet our Eliza Doolittle (Lauren Ambrose), her complexity is clear. This isn’t some ordinary girl selling flowers in Covent Garden with dirt on her face. Her desire for more in life is so much more than her introductory wish of a song, “Wouldn’t it be Loverly?” As she sings about the rooms she might find comfort in and the chocolate she might eat, the longing in her soul is clearer than the everyday things she vocalizes. Immediately this Eliza comes across as incredibly thoughtful and puts to rest any doubt about the surprising casting choice. Ambrose is a true find for this role, bringing a level of consideration to her performance that I have never seen. You can tell that everything she does is the product of deep contemplation to figure out what best serves her character and the story. It’s the kind of performance that reminds you how impressive and studied acting can be. This is true with her stunner of her big test, “I Could Have Danced All Night”, but proved most impressive when she had zero lines or notes to sing – as she watched Professor Higgins and Colonel Pickering revel in their success in “You Did It”. Her silent performance in the background of that number cemented her Eliza as one for the history books.
No less her equal is Henry Hadden-Paton’s Higgins, a name new to Broadway that also caused some grumbles when announced. Why couldn’t we have gotten Laura Benanti and a guy we know, ooh like Colin Firth?! many on the chat boards wondered. Because Sher and producers knew what they were doing, and Lauren and Henry understand their characters so much you forget you’re watching a play. I’ve never heard Higgins’s “Why Can’t the English” and other early songs so fun and not annoying. And his “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face” is spellbinding, all while being incredibly simple. Higgins’s songs are in large part talk-sung and HHP moves between that and singing effortlessly. He brings so much more to a character that I often write off as a chauvinistic jackwagon, and I’m still thinking about his character’s poignant, heartrending development.
These two actors help make this “My Fair Lady” feel fresh and vital. Our Eliza presents more awareness of herself and what’s going on and what she needs to do. She’s also strong and so funny much of the time, and not just in her uproarious performance (and famous line) at Ascot. Our Henry is arrogant and snobbish as always but with a very subtle suggestion that he wants to improve, or at least that he wants to understand why he can’t change. Both actors bring such nuance to their roles that the story feels compelled to move forward at every moment.
The supporting cast is just as strong as our two impeccable leads. Allan Corduner as Colonel Pickering is flawless and extremely likable, which helps to make Higgins seem more likable. Best of all, we have Norbert Leo Butz, my favorite of Broadway musical comedians, as Alfred Doolittle, Eliza’s dad. When he was first announced I (like everyone) was like, Norbs and Lauren are pretty much the same age so ?? But since Alfred is a drunk and is so dirty so often, it was easy to age him. And no one could do the extended “Get Me to the Church on Time” sequence – a glorious spectacle of showgirls and drunkenness and dancing and pure joy – quite like he, the master, could. As expected, his character is a laugh riot, adding much-desired humor to a production that has already mined so much humor from the piece. He’s always great and this is no exception.
Also always great is the legend Diana Rigg, as Higgins’s mother. It’s a small part with no singing, but her line deliveries are killer and help her make her small role feel essential. Her Tony nomination is still a surprise, but it is Diana Rigg. A bigger surprise is the lack of nomination for Jordan Donica, as Freddy Eysnford-Hill, the gentleman who falls in love with Eliza. He’s sensational, honest and natural in his affection for Eliza, and his passionate rendition of “On the Street Where You Live” is an impeccably sung highlight. For the first time, I was rooting for Freddy, because of his winning performance combined with Lauren’s more thoughtful Eliza, who clearly deserves better than a verbally abusive grumpy old man. Maybe. I still don’t know. The new direction that Sher takes with the ending – which I’ll try not to spoil but it implies so much in terms of growth and decisiveness and belief in oneself – will divide long-time fans, but I loved believing that this Eliza had finally garnered enough strength to realize how strong she was. It’s heartbreaking when you consider the relationships involved in her decision, and the people who lose, but it feels necessary to go this route for her own happiness. I’m still thinking about how strikingly different are the various kinds of love on display, and how the deeper-felt one is more toxic here, yet you can’t ignore that depth. Still, I like to believe that this Eliza realized she would rather have someone fetching her slippers than be forever fetching someone else’s.
This production impresses in every possible way, with the singing and enunciation pretty much perfect. The set design, primarily Higgins’s study and house in general, is absolutely to die for. With other recent golden age revivals going the way of minimalism to obtain certain effects only in the audience’s minds (cough “Carousel” cough), this set was a happy reminder of why Broadway productions can and should be magical. Everything was flawless – except for one issue I have a problem with. To make the big ensemble scenes more realistic, the ensemble members are all having real side conversations with each other during scenes. So while Eliza was singing “Wouldn’t it be Loverly”, these other poor peddlers of what not were positioned with a cart super close to where I was sitting, and laughing and talking so loudly that sometimes I couldn’t hear her. I feel like that is a nice idea that just doesn’t work, especially since this production does not use microphones, so they can’t turn theirs down or turn Lauren’s up. It was super annoying, but luckily, that’s a small gripe for a largely outstanding production, and one you probably won’t have if you sit more centrally or farther from the stage than I did.
Overall, this “My Fair Lady” is a perfect revival of a classic that I cannot imagine being done any better in my lifetime. It’s a truly sublime theatrical experience with some of the best acting currently on Broadway and some of the best interpretations of Lerner & Loewe’s classic songs. This is the kind of show that reminds you what big, grand musical theatre can and should be.
INFORMATION
“My Fair Lady” is at Lincoln Center’s Vivian Beaumont theatre with an open run booking right now until January 2019. There are really no bad seats in this theatre, and the bathroom situation is among the best. If you are under 35, you can get $30 LincTix to the show (go to the Lincoln Center website for information). Reminder if you go that Lincoln Center is not in the Theatre District but 20-ish blocks north.
STAGE DOOR
It’s a little tricky to find since it’s outside the Center and not just outside the Beaumont, but it’s worth it (and theatre staff will give very clear directions). Everyone came out and took pictures (even Diana Rigg!) and they were all friendly and happy to chat.
Most of the expert, meticulous perfection comes from the cast and the director, Bartlett Sher, who knows his way around a golden age classic as well as he does the Vivian Beaumont theatre. It’s well-written too, of course – this show has been so beloved for so long for a reason – but this production takes those bones and makes more of them than I could ever have predicted. The simple story, the question of how successful Henry Higgins’s training will be and how strong Eliza’s Stockholm Syndrome will become, all feel so much more complicated and important. From the first moment we meet our Eliza Doolittle (Lauren Ambrose), her complexity is clear. This isn’t some ordinary girl selling flowers in Covent Garden with dirt on her face. Her desire for more in life is so much more than her introductory wish of a song, “Wouldn’t it be Loverly?” As she sings about the rooms she might find comfort in and the chocolate she might eat, the longing in her soul is clearer than the everyday things she vocalizes. Immediately this Eliza comes across as incredibly thoughtful and puts to rest any doubt about the surprising casting choice. Ambrose is a true find for this role, bringing a level of consideration to her performance that I have never seen. You can tell that everything she does is the product of deep contemplation to figure out what best serves her character and the story. It’s the kind of performance that reminds you how impressive and studied acting can be. This is true with her stunner of her big test, “I Could Have Danced All Night”, but proved most impressive when she had zero lines or notes to sing – as she watched Professor Higgins and Colonel Pickering revel in their success in “You Did It”. Her silent performance in the background of that number cemented her Eliza as one for the history books.
No less her equal is Henry Hadden-Paton’s Higgins, a name new to Broadway that also caused some grumbles when announced. Why couldn’t we have gotten Laura Benanti and a guy we know, ooh like Colin Firth?! many on the chat boards wondered. Because Sher and producers knew what they were doing, and Lauren and Henry understand their characters so much you forget you’re watching a play. I’ve never heard Higgins’s “Why Can’t the English” and other early songs so fun and not annoying. And his “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face” is spellbinding, all while being incredibly simple. Higgins’s songs are in large part talk-sung and HHP moves between that and singing effortlessly. He brings so much more to a character that I often write off as a chauvinistic jackwagon, and I’m still thinking about his character’s poignant, heartrending development.
These two actors help make this “My Fair Lady” feel fresh and vital. Our Eliza presents more awareness of herself and what’s going on and what she needs to do. She’s also strong and so funny much of the time, and not just in her uproarious performance (and famous line) at Ascot. Our Henry is arrogant and snobbish as always but with a very subtle suggestion that he wants to improve, or at least that he wants to understand why he can’t change. Both actors bring such nuance to their roles that the story feels compelled to move forward at every moment.
The supporting cast is just as strong as our two impeccable leads. Allan Corduner as Colonel Pickering is flawless and extremely likable, which helps to make Higgins seem more likable. Best of all, we have Norbert Leo Butz, my favorite of Broadway musical comedians, as Alfred Doolittle, Eliza’s dad. When he was first announced I (like everyone) was like, Norbs and Lauren are pretty much the same age so ?? But since Alfred is a drunk and is so dirty so often, it was easy to age him. And no one could do the extended “Get Me to the Church on Time” sequence – a glorious spectacle of showgirls and drunkenness and dancing and pure joy – quite like he, the master, could. As expected, his character is a laugh riot, adding much-desired humor to a production that has already mined so much humor from the piece. He’s always great and this is no exception.
Also always great is the legend Diana Rigg, as Higgins’s mother. It’s a small part with no singing, but her line deliveries are killer and help her make her small role feel essential. Her Tony nomination is still a surprise, but it is Diana Rigg. A bigger surprise is the lack of nomination for Jordan Donica, as Freddy Eysnford-Hill, the gentleman who falls in love with Eliza. He’s sensational, honest and natural in his affection for Eliza, and his passionate rendition of “On the Street Where You Live” is an impeccably sung highlight. For the first time, I was rooting for Freddy, because of his winning performance combined with Lauren’s more thoughtful Eliza, who clearly deserves better than a verbally abusive grumpy old man. Maybe. I still don’t know. The new direction that Sher takes with the ending – which I’ll try not to spoil but it implies so much in terms of growth and decisiveness and belief in oneself – will divide long-time fans, but I loved believing that this Eliza had finally garnered enough strength to realize how strong she was. It’s heartbreaking when you consider the relationships involved in her decision, and the people who lose, but it feels necessary to go this route for her own happiness. I’m still thinking about how strikingly different are the various kinds of love on display, and how the deeper-felt one is more toxic here, yet you can’t ignore that depth. Still, I like to believe that this Eliza realized she would rather have someone fetching her slippers than be forever fetching someone else’s.
This production impresses in every possible way, with the singing and enunciation pretty much perfect. The set design, primarily Higgins’s study and house in general, is absolutely to die for. With other recent golden age revivals going the way of minimalism to obtain certain effects only in the audience’s minds (cough “Carousel” cough), this set was a happy reminder of why Broadway productions can and should be magical. Everything was flawless – except for one issue I have a problem with. To make the big ensemble scenes more realistic, the ensemble members are all having real side conversations with each other during scenes. So while Eliza was singing “Wouldn’t it be Loverly”, these other poor peddlers of what not were positioned with a cart super close to where I was sitting, and laughing and talking so loudly that sometimes I couldn’t hear her. I feel like that is a nice idea that just doesn’t work, especially since this production does not use microphones, so they can’t turn theirs down or turn Lauren’s up. It was super annoying, but luckily, that’s a small gripe for a largely outstanding production, and one you probably won’t have if you sit more centrally or farther from the stage than I did.
Overall, this “My Fair Lady” is a perfect revival of a classic that I cannot imagine being done any better in my lifetime. It’s a truly sublime theatrical experience with some of the best acting currently on Broadway and some of the best interpretations of Lerner & Loewe’s classic songs. This is the kind of show that reminds you what big, grand musical theatre can and should be.
INFORMATION
“My Fair Lady” is at Lincoln Center’s Vivian Beaumont theatre with an open run booking right now until January 2019. There are really no bad seats in this theatre, and the bathroom situation is among the best. If you are under 35, you can get $30 LincTix to the show (go to the Lincoln Center website for information). Reminder if you go that Lincoln Center is not in the Theatre District but 20-ish blocks north.
STAGE DOOR
It’s a little tricky to find since it’s outside the Center and not just outside the Beaumont, but it’s worth it (and theatre staff will give very clear directions). Everyone came out and took pictures (even Diana Rigg!) and they were all friendly and happy to chat.
