Category Archives: Theater

A Perfect Ending to the Year

1995 was the year I was obsessed with ‘Sunset Boulevard’ – mostly the musical, but my enthusiasm spilled over to the original movie (which has worn far better than the musical over the ensuing years – and probably before too). Granted, the musical is far from perfect, but this scene is. It features the original Broadway cast – which is the one my mother and I saw together. Glenn Close gave one of her seminal performances as Norma Desmond, and it really was her magic that stole my heart – she was frightening, feral, humorous, desperate, moving, melancholic, giddy, ferocious, hilarious, hopeful, and utterly mesmerizing. While Betty Buckley may have had the vocal prowess, and Gloria Swanson may have been the real thing, it was Ms. Close who moved me the most in this role. I recognized in her the frantic last grasp at happiness, the distorted and disturbed result of years of being loved and adored by strangers but not one specific person. There’s a loneliness like no other in that.

I usually post this clip of my favorite scene from the musical for New Year’s. The one seen above is the best quality of the show I’ve found thus far, and in it we get to see the many nuances of Ms. Close’s performance. From the opening entrance down that magnificent staircase to that ridiculous but somehow poignant feathered-hairpiece, the whole thing always brings tears to my eyes. It wasn’t the dramatic histrionics that moved me so, or the over-the-top trappings and costumes – it was the simple moment of falling in love with someone who didn’t love you back. Ms. Desmond storms into the scene all fiery hope and intensity, refusing to believe in anything other than the happy ending she has planned for herself and Joe Gillis. She does her best, pulling out all the stops, seducing alternately like an army sergeant and a little girl, tugging on the heartstrings and a passion that was never there in the first place. I cannot watch that futile act without feeling sad. She wants so badly to be loved…

At the 3:19 mark they begin their dance, and in her eyes is all the hope of the world, focused in her gaze, her giddy motion, her girlish glee. We’ve all danced like that in our hearts – at least, if we’ve been lucky once or twice. To not know that kind of unrequited love is to not have lived. I watch her happiness at that moment, the way she loses herself in their dance, and my heart breaks a little. Every year.

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Careful the Tale You Tell

The movie version of ‘Into the Woods’ is currently being filmed, and while I was reserving excitement until closer to its planned release of December 2014, the teaser photo of Meryl Streep as the Witch was just too good to ignore. ‘Into the Woods’ is one of the first musicals that had a significant impact on my life. At the time I saw it – somewhere around 1988 at Proctor’s – I was just a kid, but on the verge of being a teenager. The music of Stephen Sondheim and the fairy-tale mash-up was what first captured my attention, but only upon repeated listening did I realize, over the years, how much deeply it struck a chord. Like much of Sondheim’s work, this goes deeper than a few bright melodies (arguably his happiest-sounding score), becoming a complex, and sometimes troubling, psychological take on family, romance, and that ever-encroaching threat of ‘giants in the sky’.

Careful the things you say, children will listen,
Careful the things you do, children will see and learn.
Children may not obey, but children will listen,
Children will look to you for which way to turn, to learn what to be.
Careful before you say listen to me…

 

When I first saw the show, I was too young to realize how much loss was in it. Fortunately innocent of much of that, I didn’t see how terrible the loss of innocence, the loss of love, and the loss of parental protection could be – not just to children but to adults. As the years past, I grew to know such loss. The musical was turning darker, richer, and more frightening. When we came out of the show that first time, I remember excitedly asking my Mom if she liked it as much as I did. She seemed slightly reticent, hesitant to say much. I understand that reticence now. Was it guilt then, or simple resigned exhaustion at how fucked-up things might be?

Who can say what’s true?

Childhood can be such a muck of a fairy tale, and even when you get older it only gets muckier. Families don’t always grow up. Relationships don’t always get better. Children don’t always learn from their mistakes. Parents don’t either. And the truth can be… a terrible thing.

 

Careful the spell you cast, not just on children
Sometimes the spell may last
Past what you can see and turn against you
Careful the tale you tell, that is the spell…
Children will listen.
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Les Not-So-Miserables

Being heralded as the world’s most popular musical comes with a certain cost. ‘Les Miserables’ – like ‘Phantom of the Opera’ and ‘Cats’ – has proven its worth worldwide since it first opened almost three decades ago, and also became a film that got a number of Oscar nods last year. As one of the British blockbusters of the 80’s, it was saddled with the reputation of the others as featuring spectacle and production cost over lasting substance. In the ensuing years, the musical proved the ‘lasting’ part, but the hum-drum lyrics and sometimes convoluted story-line never quite pushed it into the critically-lauded category. Those shortcomings, however, haven’t been able to touch the moving melodies of the music – and I’ve always contended that this is the real secret to the enduring appeal of the musical. That music remains intact here, taking pride of place in the production currently staging its glorious coup at the Cohoes Music Hall.

By this point in its decade-plus tenure, the Cohoes Music Hall has nothing left to prove. They have done old-fashioned traditional musicals to perfection (‘Hello Dolly!‘, ‘The Pirates of Penzance‘ and ‘Cabaret‘ ) and brought renewed vigor to the newer (now older) hits like ‘Cats‘ and ‘Sunset Boulevard‘. ‘Les Miserables’, with its voluminous cast and thundering ensemble numbers might have proved a formidable challenge, but under the direction of Jim Charles, cast and crew rise to the occasion.

Without a fifty-piece orchestra, or even amplification for that matter, the players here produce such powerful effect that it seems sometimes as if they are multiplying – so rich and full are the voices, so expansive the instrumentation. The musical direction of Charlotte Evans, and the addition of a few extra members in the orchestra pit, make such epic grandeur possible. Ms. Evans is the unsung star of this show, deftly keeping a steady pace of non-stop music, eliciting bombast when necessary and quieter jewels that still sparkle.

As for the cast, Austin Riley Green is an adequate Jean Valjean, but it’s his adversary Javert, as played by Jim Charles (doing double duty as leading player and director), who provided the stoic, yet emotional, heft of the show. This was my first time seeing Mr. Charles in a lead role at the theater (how is that even possible?) and he was a highlight of this production. As the noble-but-villain-by-default Javert, he’s saddled with the difficult role of being the unyielding, yet ultimately self-defeating, bearer of strict justice. Not once does he sway from his course, even in the face of convincing moral ambiguity, and the usually gregarious Mr. Charles never breaks stride in this convincingly powerful turn.

As I said, the power of this show lies within its music. All of its greatest and most well-known songs are represented well here, including ‘I Dreamed A Dream’ and ‘On My Own’, but it’s the ensemble pieces that rouse the most – from the inspiring ‘Do You Hear the People Sing’ to the ‘One Day More’ Act I closing montage that ties all the characters and their musical motifs together into one amazing production number.

A musical about the bloody French Revolution will always sound odd on paper, but when set to music like this – and put on with the professional panache of the players here – it works like magic.

‘Les Miserables’ runs at the Cohoes Music Hall through October 13, 2013. 

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Pitching the Perfect Tent – Review of ‘Pippin’

Is there anything more terrifying than the possibility of future regret? The battle of an artist to be extraordinary while maintaining some semblance of a functioning family life has always proven fertile ground for all art forms, and nowhere is that more apparent than in the current revival of ‘Pippin’.

The ambitious coming-of-age journey of a young prince goes deeper than its superficial circus-like atmosphere would have you believe, and therein lies its genius. Director Diane Paulus brings new life and magic to the Stephen Schwartz musical, touching on issues as deep as sibling rivalry, parental control, patricide, and hints of Oedipal conflict while dazzling with circus stunts. Choreographer Chet Walker retains Bob Fosse’s signature style, jazz hands and pelvic grinds intact, to aid in the seduction, and that sort of wink is necessary to draw the audience in, and give this revival the subtext that lends it greater depth. Yet it is the amazing aerials, stunning acrobatics, and visual pyrotechnics that make the story soar.

Each of the cast gets a shot in the spotlight, which affords some amazing moments. The only problem is that the evening sometimes runs the risk of feeling like a variety show, never less than entertaining, but occasionally not much more. Luckily, the performances and the actors investing in them ground it all, and keep the story together. It is, in fact, the strength of this company – where each member is an individual, unique and distinguishable at all times – that is the real winning hand of the evening. Broadway vets like Terrence Mann and Andrea Martin (the former voraciously eating up his scenes and the latter flying high above the stage with no wires or safety net) stand out while gleefully enjoining the ensemble.

Patina Miller, as the magnificent ringleader, is at turns enticing and erotic, menacing and ferocious, seductive and sensual, biting and brutal. She is the master of ceremonies, perfectly embodying the multi-faceted tension of finding oneself, while leading Pippin, and the audience, along the road of temptation. She deservedly won the Tony for her work here, culminating in a devastating last act of defiant desperation.

As Pippin, Matthew James Thomas brings a wide-eyed naiveté to his early scenes, gently adding shades of knowledge and wisdom as he progresses on his journey, flummoxed and confounded at one point, dazed but valiantly rebounding the next. He ultimately resigns himself to a real life, rejecting all the magic, and perhaps a bit of the search for being something exceptional. The story ends not there, but with the next generation, searching and seeking out the same giddy thrills, the same heights of fantasy, the same quest for something extraordinary.

The neat thing is that after witnessing such fantastic (and literal) flights of fancy, the thrilling visuals, and an evening of entertaining enchantment, the moment when the ringleader strikes the set and withdraws the magic is a compelling challenge to both Pippin and the audience. One wants to believe that the unamplified voices and costume-free starkness can match and hold up to all the colorful theatricality that came before, but the question lingers, and haunts, and it is here where the power of this revival is finally revealed. Is it worth the trade off? Or should we never give up, never settle? It is left in vague ambivalence, tottering on a high wire of hope, as astounding and challenging as the entire evening of theater has been.

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The Necessary Evil of Times Square

While I loathe Times Square (always have and always will), it is a necessary evil if you want to see a Broadway show. Back when I was younger, I was more amenable to the bright lights and meandering crowds, but today I avoid the space if at all possible. Since both of the shows we were seeing – ‘Kinky Boots‘ and ‘Pippin’ – were playing in theaters on W. 45th Street, there was no escaping the crazy scene. You can either fight the crowds and get upset and angry, or embrace it and go with the flow, following the swarms and masses that swirl and make their hapless way through the jam-packed streets. I did a little of both.

We fought it by trying to escape into lofty hotel lobbies, but embraced it by having an in-between-shows dinner at Sardi’s (early and old-school enough to be rather quiet). More about the shows that book-ended the day in other places (‘Kinky Boots’ here, and ‘Pippin’ to come), but let me just say that they were incredible. There’s something uniquely thrilling about seeing a hit Broadway show with its original cast, at the height of its post-Tony glory. And it’s worth every moment we had to spend in Times Square.

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Let’s Get Kinky ~ Review of ‘Kinky Boots’

The most fun-filled factory in production right now is Price & Son at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre, and it’s not just fabulous shoes that are being made, but a transformative musical theater experience. That’s where ‘Kinky Boots’ is saucily strutting the boards, and, fueled by two powerhouse performances, it’s the best musical I’ve seen in a decade. (And I’ll qualify that by saying that I have yet to see ‘The Book of Mormon’ and ‘Once’.)

To be honest, I’m a little jaded. Anyone who grew up in the 80’s has some sort of affinity with Cyndi Lauper, the woman behind the music here. It’s her first time writing the music and lyrics for a Broadway show, but she handles it with her trademark perky aplomb, and an insinuating score that references her 80’s disco roots, while standing on its own melodic structure. Ms. Lauper has been lucky enough to be coupled with one of Broadway’s legends, Harvey Fierstein, who wrote the book of the musical. Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve been a fan of the brilliant Mr. Fierstein ever since I first heard his unmistakably gravelly voice many moons ago (and interviewed him for a story on his children’s book, ‘The Sissy Duckling’.) Rounding out the talented trio behind the show is director and choreographer Jerry Mitchell, who makes inventive use of every square foot of factory, with multi-leveled set pieces and some portable conveyor belts for the exhilarating Act One closer ‘Everybody Say Yeah’.

Ms. Lauper’s music and Mr. Fierstein’s book give ‘Kinky Boots’ its driving power and emotional heft, but it’s the performances of Billy Porter and Stark Sands that put the show into the stratosphere of musical theater magnificence. They join the pantheon of Broadway duos like Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly (‘Chicago’) or Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom (‘The Producers’) or even Glinda and Elphaba (‘Wicked’) – teams that depend on one another for strength and survival- story-wise, and performance-wise. It is especially vital here, because at its heart, this is a show about two unlikely friends coming together and seeing that they’re not all that different. Charlie Price and Lola may well be the dynamic duo of this decade, and Sands and Porter are not to be missed.

As the heir to the struggling Price & Son shoe factory, Sands is perfectly cast as Charlie, a young man unsure of where his future lies, whether he should jump into the unknown future of ambition as impelled by his girlfriend Nicola, or make a choice to honor his legacy and fight for his past to be his future. Sands is given the difficult, and less-showy, role of straight-man to Lola. As such he is the anchor of the factory and the show, and comes through with the necessary blend of earnestness, hesitancy, and, ultimately, evolution. His big moment – the rousing, self-indicting ‘Soul of a Man’ – is an epiphany, and his performance, one of careful and complex transformation, is surpassed only by his counterpart, Billy Porter.

As Lola (Simon), Porter simply shines. He is a force of nature, a revelation in a world where that term is used far too often for far too less. He defines it here, with a Tony-winning performance that is sweeping in ferociousness and fiery in intensity. Porter manages to go from hilarious to sorrowful in a matter of moments, portraying the varying degrees of rage, drive, hope, humility, glamour, and giddiness needed to convey the inner-workings and outer-fabulousness that comprise the ‘Land of Lola’. A larger-than-life drag queen will always be a role that runs the danger of veering into campy caricature, but Porter never loses his way, guiding Lola through her journey with every bit of grace and dignity and honor that Charlie finds so difficult to find.

It is the study of the friendship between men, but also the story of what it takes to be a man, and what makes a man great. It’s a story of forgiveness, love, and how much of each other’s lives we miss by shutting ourselves off from openness and acceptance. The simplest scene in the show (spoiler alert) is when Lola performs for her father, at last in a nursing home. She sings an 11th-hour show-stopper that will have drag queens gagging with giddiness for years, and in it both exonerates herself from feeling unloved while refusing to take anything less.

That acceptance – of a parent to a child, a friend to a friend, and a stranger to a stranger- forms the emotional core of the show, and, strangely enough, it wasn’t just the tear-jerker moments (‘Not My Father’s Son’ and ‘Soul of a Man’) that moved me, but the fantastic finale of the ‘We-Are-Family’-esque ‘Raise You Up/Just Be’ that elicited the thrills of just how powerful musical theater can be.

It comes to glorious life when the previously-close-minded Don belts out, “You change the world when you change your mind” while donning some kinky boots of his own. If you let that seemingly-simple sentiment sink in, it’s miraculous, life-affirming, and dazzling. Just like ‘Kinky Boots’.

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On Broadway, With My Mother

This weekend marks the resurrection of a former tradition, and I’m taking my Mom to New York to see ‘Kinky Boots’ and ‘Pippin’. (Okay, she’s providing the hotel and train tix – because Broadway musicals are expensive!) I’m looking forward to it, as it’s been a while since I had some one-on-one time with my Mom. I’m also psyched about these shows, as ‘Kinky Boots’ just won the Tony Award for Best Musical and ‘Pippin’ just won for Best Revival of a Musical. (I picked these a few weeks ago on a hunch. I wish I’d played the lottery instead.)

Last week in Boston I purchased the ‘Kinky Boots’ soundtrack for the ride home, and whether it was the way music on a Sunday morning ride sounds more moving, or my malleable mood, I listened from beginning to end and teared up in more than a few spots from the melody and words. ‘Soul of a Man’ and ‘Not My Father’s Son’ alone should wring emotion from the driest emotional wells. (It turns out I have a reserve after all.)

I know less about ‘Pippin’, but it’s gotten very good reviews, and visually it looks stunning. Give me a circus theme and I’m generally a happy boy. The fact that the music was written by the same gentleman who wrote ‘Wicked’ also bodes well (Stephen Schwartz).

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An Upstairs Anniversary

One of the tragically unreported events in our country’s history was a 1973 arson fire in a gay bar in New Orleans that killed 32 people. It is, to date, the largest single attack this country has seen against the LGBT community, snuffing out 32 lives that could have been any one of us. This year marks the 40th anniversary of that tragic event, and Wayne Self has written a musical theater piece, ‘Upstairs‘, named after the bar that was so murderously burned down, in an effort to remind us what came before, what life might have been, and what hope, love and loss sound like. In addition to being an important piece of LGBT history, it’s also a compelling perspective on the human condition. Tickets for the show are on sale now, so if you’re going to be in the New Orleans area from June 20-24, or just want to support this excellent work, please visit this link for the latest on the show, and how it came to be.

 

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Mother’s Day Gift

In the spring of 1997 I took my Mom to see three of the Tony-nominated musicals that year – ‘Steel Pier’, ‘Jekyll & Hyde’ and ‘Titanic’. It was a tradition for at least two or three years to take in a Broadway show together. (For the record, I enjoyed them all – and ‘Steel Pier’ marked the Broadway debut of Kristin Chenoweth and her scene-stealing coloratura.) In many respects, I have my Mom to thank for my love of musical theater. From ‘Peter Pan’ to ‘Into the Woods’ to ‘Jerome Robbins’ Broadway’, some of my most prominent childhood memories involve seeing shows with her.

This year, I’m resurrecting the ritual by taking her to see ‘Kinky Boots’ and ‘Pippin’ next month. And for anyone raising an eyebrow at me attending a show entitled ‘Kinky Boots’ with my mother, let me assure you it will be all right: I’ve seen more full-frontal male nudity on the Broadway stage with my Mom than just about anyone else, no lie. (From ‘Six Degrees of Separation to ‘Love! Valour! Compassion!’ and an Oscar Wilde play or two…)

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Helping Out Upstairs

One of the double-edged swords of all the progress the gay community has made over the last few years is the fact that those young people coming of age now don’t remember how hard it used to be. As a thirty-something gay man, I feel in many ways on the cusp of that – I remember what it was like in the 80’s and 90’s, and I know how easier it is in many ways today. While this is the way it should be, we must not forget from whence we came, and all our rich, tumultuous, and often-unlearned history.

A bit of our history that I had not known until recently was a 1973 arson fire that killed 32 people in a gay bar. It went ignored by the media, and unknown to many, like myself, until Wayne Self brought it back to over-due prominence in his upcoming musical ‘Upstairs‘. Events like this need to be remembered. We cannot forget, because such hatred will flare up in other ways.

Director Zach McCallum sums up the story as such:

Upstairs tells the long-forgotten story of a tragic arson fire in a gay bar in New Orleans in 1973. Thirty-two people, many of them members of the then-fledgling New Orleans Metropolitan Community Church, which had been meeting at the Up Stairs Lounge, were killed, in what remains to this day the single deadliest crime against an LGBT population in US history. At the time, the story was almost completely ignored by the news media. Though a suspect was identified, no arrest was ever made.

Wayne’s play is an elegant, haunting tale of damnation and salvation, telling the stories of several of the victims of the fire. The characters  include Buddy (based on the real Buddy Rasmussen), a bartender who led 35 people to safety, and Buddy’s partner Adam. Mitch, the associate pastor of the NOLA MCC, and his partner Horace. Drag performer Marcy and her dresser Reginald. And Agneau, a tormented and self-hating gay man. It is a morality play with a twist, told with sensitivity and dark humor, with a catchy and modern jazz and blues influenced score.

The production is up against a large goal, and timeframe: they need to raise $10,000 in order to move forward. They’ve got a good start (about halfway there at the time of this writing), but it must be raised by February 17, so the pressure is on. Please consider helping out with a donation at THIS LINK. (Your donation will only be collected if they reach their goal.) Another way to help is to attend one of the shows (which is what I would do if I were a hair closer to California…) Tickets can be found HERE.

 

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The Perfect Year

Ring out the old, Ring in the new
A midnight wish to share with you
Your lips are warm, my head is light
Were we alive before tonight?
I don’t need a crowded ballroom,
Everything I want is here,
If you’re with me,
Next year will be…
The Perfect Year…

It just may be my favorite scene out of any musical, and it always makes me cry. The cynical story of Norma Desmond and ‘Sunset Boulevard‘ is not high on anyone’s warm and fuzzy list, but in this brief snippet we have a glimpse at what makes her lovable in the face of all her delusional arrogance and haughty defiance. This is just a fragile person, hopelessly and unrequitedly in love with someone else who doesn’t love her back, at least not in that way – not in that all-encompassing romantic way that we all deserve to be loved. The world had already left her behind, but that doesn’t stop the heart from wanting, from loving. It never fails to move me.

It’s New Year’s Eve and hopes are high
Dance one year in, kiss one good-bye,
Another chance, another start
So many dreams to tease the heart,
We don’t need a crowded ballroom,
Everything we want is here,
And face to face,
We will embrace
The Perfect Year…
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Glitter & Be Gay

Before this world ends, a bit of the bright and bubbly, in the form of one brilliant Kristin Chenoweth in her blazing version of ‘Glitter and Be Gay’ from ‘Candide’. Though it was her turn in ‘Steel Pier’ on Broadway that made me an instant fan, it was this performance that truly galvanized my love for her. In these dark days, a little sparkle is needed more than ever. (Bonus Diva Points for Patti LuPone’s entrance – and exit.)

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Mid-Day Hump Day Treat

It’s not about aptitude it’s the way you’re viewed…
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Please, It’s All About Popular

If other places can re-print an article on ‘Wicked’ by Gregory Maguire, then surely I can get away with re-posting my review of the show from when it premiered on Broadway almost a decade ago. I’m taking Andy to see it tonight at Proctor’s, so it seems a fitting moment. (Besides, I’m too busy finalizing my outfit for the Beaujolais Nouveau Wine Festival to really focus on anything else.) So, without further ado, here it is (and it’s interesting to note how very wrong I was about the show not doing so well once its original cast departed).

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“Popular – it’s all about popular. It’s not about aptitude, it’s the way you’re viewed, so it’s very shrewd to be very, very popular, like me!” So sings Galinda, the ‘good witch’ of’Wicked’, in the new musical that opened this past year. The show too is proving popular, from good word-of-mouth to sold-out audiences. (The past few weeks have found it filled to capacity.) All this despite mixed reviews is further proof that what is popular may be more important than what is actually worthy of artistic merit. In this case, it’s not as bad as mean-spirited critics would have you believe, nor as wonderful as ‘Wicked’ fans would like you to think.

For lovers of the movie and those unfamiliar with Gregory Maguire’s original spellbinding book, the musical is likely to enchant and delight ~ for those who enjoyed the darker edge of the book, it may prove disappointing. The musical’s team ~ mainly Stephen Schwartz, who wrote the music and lyrics, and Winnie Holzman, who wrote the book of the musical ~ turned the dark genius of Maguire’s literary masterpiece into something, well, popular, in the best and worst sense. One gets the feeling that the show is trying to be everything to everyone ~ keeping the movie-lovers happy while placating those captivated by Maguire’s book, and such artistic compromise is exceedingly difficult to pull off successfully. In this instance, the creators only partially succeed.
The main draw of the show is rightfully found in its two leads, Idina Menzel as Elphaba – the green one, and Kristin Chenoweth as Galinda – the ‘good one’. (The first ‘A’ in Galinda becomes silent, as is amusingly explained in the musical.) For her opening entrance, Galinda descends from above, in a mechanical bubble of course, and greets the audience with her now-classic line, “It’s good to see me, isn’t it?” It certainly is, and remains so throughout the evening. Ms. Chenoweth gives the defining performance of the show, running the gamut from perky and giddy to heartbroken and stoically resigned. It would have been enough to convey the goodness and light of Galinda’s seemingly superficial nature, but Chenoweth digs deeper to craft a multi-layered portrayal, from heights of happiness to plummeting pathos. Her Galinda is not all good, but you love her for her human shortcomings.

Idina Menzel is the green one, or Elphaba as she is known here. Ms. Menzel contrasts beautifully with Chenoweth, and gives an equally compelling, if less showy, performance. She is a powerful belter ~ remembered rightly for her showcase performance as Maureen in the original cast of Rent. Here she must erase the horror recalled from Margaret Hamilton’s chilling turn in the movie and forge the character into a creature of empathy. Her Elphaba is a grower, not a shower, and the blossoming of her journey is something to behold. It may forever alter your perception of the Wicked Witch of the West. Both lead ladies elevate the show, and during the all-too-rare moments when the material matches the talent, ‘Wicked’ truly soars. The budding, complex friendship between adversaries Galinda and Elphaba is what keeps it all together, and it is this emotional bond that carries the weightier moments of the production.

Visually it is compelling ~ a mechanical theme echoes from the gears and cogs that frame the stage and battle with encroaching vines, to the Dragon Clock and time motif that run throughout. A giant witch’s hat materializes early on, portending events to come, and the aforementioned entrance of Galinda is an indelible sight. However, such visuals and ideas resound with more impact than does most of the music, and this is usually a death knell for a musical. Save for the lilting ‘Popular’ and the majestic ‘Defying Gravity’ (which takes off literally and figuratively thanks to Menzel’s powerhouse vocals), there are few songs that remain memorable. ‘What Is This Feeling?’ offers moments of exhilaration while ‘Dancing Through Life’ and ‘One Short Day’ are merely serviceable. Closing duet ‘For Good’ mostly succeeds through the emotional delivery of Menzel and Chenowith. And it is this crux that is the bane and saving grace of the show: without these two charismatic performers, the show itself may not fly.

Broadway’s past ~ where shows relied on well-known musical stars (Ethel Merman for example) ~ seems to be the Broadway’s present and future too, as movie stars grace the Great White Way with amped-up head mikes and passable singing voices. There is danger in it though, for what happens when the star departs, as all stars eventually do? Strong shows that depend largely on ensemble casts like ‘Rent’ and ‘Chicago’ will endure, but others may not prove so stalwart. When the music is decent the show can survive; when it’s not things get tricky. ‘Wicked’ is at its best when Menzel and Chenoweth command the stage. In their absence the production falls a little flat.

Still, ‘Wicked’ does offer something for those searching for deeper meaning. “Are people born wicked, or is wickedness thrust upon us?” Galinda asks early in the show. But while the sinister nature of evil is questioned, it is never dwelt on or deeply explored. Instead, the musical raises the question of whether those who are popular can do more good through their power, than those who openly oppose the system, but lack the clout because of their convictions or beliefs. Is Galinda perhaps more insidious and intelligent because she recognizes the power of popularity and the platform that results? Or has she been cowed and molded into a public figure without true morals and standards? Is Elphaba somehow better for her unyielding stance, or foolish because it ends up with her banishment? Who, indeed, is the most wicked?

The musical is at its best when is posits these queries through the luscious vocals and impeccable performances of Chenoweth and Menzel. Without them, ‘Wicked’ may prove to be a bumpy ride that never quite takes flight. For the moment, they’re here ~ each giving a luminous portrayal of two strikingly different women making their way in the world ~ go now to see them soar.

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Good Golly, Miss Dolly!

Though its likely to result in instant revocation of my gay card, I have a confession to make: I’ve never seen ‘Hello, Dolly!’ Not in its many incarnations with Carol Channing over the years, not in the film version with Barbra Streisand, not in any local production or revival. It’s a pretty big deal according to some folks on FaceBook. Fortunately, thanks to the musical theatrical gods of Cohoes Music Hall, that was rectified last night, and in gloriously fine fashion.‏

Under the elegant yet riotous direction of Jim Charles, this Dolly is a deft and classy version of the venerable work, and the perfect introduction for Dolly virgins like myself. Mr. Charles knows his golden-touched way around a classical musical, giving the show the giddy, airy flight it needs while grounding it with subtle moments of regret and wistful reminiscence. Central to its success is the winning performance of Monica M. Wemitt as masterful meddler Dolly Levi.

Ms. Wemitt is a sly, comedic goddess, with a voice as rich and smooth as butter, and the regal deportment to carry off every colorfully brazen costume without missing a step. Not having seen any other version of the show, I can’t imagine anyone else doing this role justice – not even the great Carol Channing (whose prime performances were before my time). Ms. Wemitt moves from meddlesome to moving, manipulative to magic-making, and wins over every audience member as if she were singing only to them. Her moments with a meal at Harmonia Gardens rank with the most hilarious in musical comedy, and she manages to accomplish this without singing a single note (which would have proven impossible with all those feather-light dumplings anyway).

Matching her talent with equally-impressive vocal chops is Peyton Thomas Tucker as Cornelius Hackl. Though it’s a bit of a one-note character, Mr. Tucker adds the right nuances at the right moments, and reveals a gorgeous dulcet tone that still somehow carries to the highest rafters of the house.

With its athletic troupe of dancers that seem to defy both gravity and physics executing the choreography of Michele Tibbitts, the always-expert orchestra, this time led by Nolan Bonvouloir, and the eye-popping costumes of Jimm Halliday (Hello, Millinery!), the show dazzles and soars, ultimately bringing the audience to its feet.

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