Tag: Raul Esparza

Show Round-Up

Annie – I caught an early preview of the classic Strouse-Charnin musical at the Palace. I have a dubious history with this one; the last time I saw it onstage was 21 years ago and while I don’t remember much, I wanted Hannigan to win. Fortunately that was not the case in this new production directed by James Lapine and choreographed by Andy Blankenbuehler. Katie Finneran holds nothing back as Miss Hannigan, but the performance hadn’t quite gelled when I saw the show, and it didn’t help that her Rooster and Lily are barely there (and what’s up with Lily’s accent? Not cool, kids). Lilla Crawford has great sincerity and a clarion voice that brought down the house repeatedly, but her accent gets in the way. Merwin Foard, a reliable standby in so many recent productions, is finally onstage and a total delight as FDR. The real standout, though, is Australian baritone Anthony Warlow, whose sumptuous baritone is the 8th wonder of the world. His “Something Was Missing” stopped the show cold in act two. I was mixed on the set, though I loved the chandelier/Christmas tree effect. The choreography is, to put it mildly, terrible. Only the final number really had cohesion, and it was still a hot mess. Quibbles aside, the show is a charmer, thanks to its score and the sharp libretto by Thomas Meehan.

The Performers – I caught a late preview of this fast flop, which was entertaining but tremendously slight. There was no real conflict, mostly a non-porn couple who inexplicably question their monogamy while visiting Las Vegas for an adult film industry awards show. The play is rife with enough raunchy dialogue to make your great-grandmother’s monocle pop, but ultimately feels…tame. That said I found much to enjoy, and much to laugh at. Props to the terrific ensemble led by Alicia Silverstone, Henry Winkler and Cheyenne Jackson. However, the real star of the evening was Ari Graynor as Peeps, a dim, defensive porn star with a heart of gold. Everything she said or did went over like fireworks on the 4th of July, and a performance I am glad I had the opportunity to see. The play’s closure after 7 performances was a bit of a shock, as I’ve seen far worse enterprises run longer. While I don’t think it’s much of a play, I think the script could make for a more enjoyable film.

Giant – Edna Ferber’s novel is now a musical, in a sprawling retelling of the story of a Texas cattle baron and his decades long marriage to a Virginia socialite. This bold, ambitious piece is currently playing the Public Theater  and while it could use some tinkering and fine-tuning, it’s a thrilling experience. Michael John LaChiusa’s music is haunting and often soars. The show has a cast of 22, and an orchestra of 16 – rare for an off-Broadway production. Brian D’Arcy James is excellent as Bick Benedict, a cattle baron whose unconditional love for Texas is challenged by a changing world. Kate Baldwin is giving the the performance of a career as his wife Leslie. John Dossett provides brilliant, sympathetic support as Uncle Bawley, while Michelle Pawk brings gruff pragmatism to Bick’s older sister Luz. Katie Thompson is a find as Vashti Hake, a ranch heiress jilted by Bick who becomes one of Leslie’s closest friends. Thompson can really sing, and deserves to be a leading lady herself. The character of Jett Rink lacks definition and as written barely registers as an antagonist (played by a game P.J. Griffith). For a show set in and about Texas, the musical feels somewhat cramped on the Newman stage. A show of this scope cries out for a venue like the Vivian Beaumont.

20 years of Encores! A Gala Celebration – This 90 minute program featuring many of Broadway’s finest talents performing under the music direction of both Rob Berman and original Encores! musical director Rob Fisher. Kelli O’Hara opened with “It’s a Perfect Relationship” from Bells Are Ringing, but her highlight was a sumptuous rendition of “Lover, Come Back to Me” from The New Moon. Raul Esparza revisited “Everybody Says Don’t” from Anyone Can Whistle and cut it up big time with the tongue twisting “Tchaikowsky” from Lady in the Dark. Rob McClure was charm squared leading “Once in Love with Amy” (and yes, the audience sang along!) from Where’s Charley? Joel Grey did “Mr. Cellophane” from Chicago, Rebecca Luker, Sarah Uriarte Berry and Debbie Gravitte revisited their glorious “Sing for Your Supper” from The Boys from Syracuse. Other numbers came from Finian’s Rainbow, Too Many Girls, Fanny, Anyone Can Whistle, Do Re Mi, Juno, Lady in the Dark, Carnival and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Of special note was a middle section of found items, including “Where Do I Go From Here?” cut from Fiorello!, thrillingly sung by Victoria Clark. The most esoteric item on the bill was the overture for Nowhere to Go But Up, a nine performance bomb from 1962. Jack Viertel had asked Jonathan Tunick about whereabouts of its “the long-lost overture” during Merrily orchestra rehearsals. Turns out Tunick had it in his apartment. The evening ended with ‘Til Tomorrow from Fiorello! (which was the very first Encores! and will be revived this January). All musical numbers used the original arrangements and orchestrations. If there was a complaint it was that the evening ended too soon.

“Leap of Faith”

In a nutshell, the new musical Leap of Faith is ultimately The Music Man meets 110 in the Shade in a revival tent. The show is not quite the train wreck that word of mouth might have you believe, as there are a many good things on stage (namely the exceptional cast). However, by journey’s end I was left feeling that something was missing. It’s more disappointing to me that with all that talent on stage and off Leap of Faith isn’t a more tremendous experience. I have never seen the 1992 Steve Martin film on which the show is based, but that’s neither here nor there. A shyster evangelist finds himself stranded in a town and sets to work conning the folks suffering for lack of rain. One woman in the town (here also the sheriff) has doubts, as well as a paralyzed son. On the third day, things come to a head.

The show is anchored by its dynamic leading man, Raul Esparza, who carried the evening on his shoulders. Jonas Nightingale, the cynical shyster evangelist is a tough-sell anti-hero but Esparza is more than game, creating in a memorable and energetic star turn. Jessica Phillips has beauty and heart, as well as a lovely voice as Marla, the Town Sheriff and Jonas’ love interest. The divine Kecia Lewis-Evans is so good and sings so thrillingly as Ida Mae, I want to see her above the title in her own Broadway show. Leslie Odom Jr and Krystal Joy Brown bring remarkable voice and presence as her children, often leading the spirited ensemble pieces. Rounding out the principal cast are Kendra Kassebaum and Talon Ackerman, who aren’t given much in the way of songs or fully realized characters.

Alan Menken, now with three shows running currently on Broadway, wrote the music while Glenn Slater wrote the lyrics. Mr. Menken has a field day with the gospel infused revival numbers (especially anything that Lewis-Evans sings) but the show has so many of them that they begin to run together.  Some of the lyrics, such as the lead-in verse to “People Like Us,” are just awful. Mr. Slater’s other lyrics may not be as terrible, but they build on cliches and lack imagination. The unimaginatively titled “Jonas’ Soliloquy” allows Esparza to really sock home the eleven o’clock spot, but the song lacks the distinction that makes other such powerhouse moments (eg. “Rose’s Turn” or “Lot’s Wife”) so indelible.

Robin Wagner’s scenery is disappointingly realistic and unimaginative (nothing says “Broadway musical” like a gas station) while William Ivey Long has come up with some eye-popping choir robes for the Angels of Mercy, as well as Jonas’ mirror jacket. The book, by Janus Cercone (also the film’s screenwriter) and Warren Leight, doesn’t quite know what to make of itself. The structure smacks of desperation; the conceit of setting the musical at the St. James feels rushed and uncertain. So much of what is written feels like tired tropes, both in plot and character. I don’t know if the show can be saved, but I think the authors should continue to work on it as they have the potential for an even better show to take out on tour. Or perhaps, this is one for the Times Square Church.

"Anyone Can Whistle" at Encores


I would like to call for a coronation in New York City. I don’t know if there are any statutes in the NY government that allow for such activity, or even whether her colleagues would appreciate my hubris, but if there is anyone who deserves to be crowned the Queen of Musical Comedy (at least this year) it is Donna Murphy, who experienced another in a series of career triumphs in this weekend’s Encores! revival of Anyone Can Whistle. If you missed her performance, I am legitimately sorry for you because it was the most scrumptious, delectable, laugh-out-loud hilarious musical comedy performance I’ve seen in the last several years.

Lusty, shallow, greedy, neurotic and deliriously oblivious, Murphy sashays through the evening like a Vegas nightclub diva, complete with a quartet of male dancers who follow her everywhere she goes. Her voice is in exceptional form and each one of her numbers was a pure knockout. Every nuance in her delivery, her physical movement, even the way she pronounces her own last name is enough to bust a gut. Her physicality is fearless, brash and just about the greatest thing since sliced bread. Every moment she is onstage you can’t help but watch her – she’s not only funny, but fascinating.

Murphy, coiffed by Gregg Barnes in an homage to the role’s originator Angela Lansbury (who insisted she play the part), is so winning that she would win every theatre award in sight were she eligible. It’s even more impressive when you think of her career trajectory: the bleak, depressive Fosca in Passion, the prim Mrs. Anna in The King and I, Ruth Sherwood in Wonderful Town and Phyllis in Follies. There are not many actresses with such extensive range and ability.

It bears mentioning that Ms. Murphy is not onstage alone. Sutton Foster is lots of fun as a Fay Apple, the uptight pragmatic nurse who can only let down her guard when dolled up like a French tart. She brings that now trademark belt to “There Won’t Be Trumpets” and offered a touching rendition of the title song. Raul Esparza flits around wildly as Hapgood, the would-be doctor who is actually a patient running the asylum. Edward Hibbert, Jeff Blumenkrantz and John Ellison Conlee provide enormous comic support as ‘Hoovah-Hoopah’s’ sidekicks, partners in crime (and possibly some more unmentionable extra-curricular activities).

This legendary flop played nine performances at the Majestic in 1964, an overreaching satire about a bankrupt city whose corrupt mayoress (and minions) concoct a phony miracle in order to capitalize on it. I won’t get too far into the plot as, well, with this show it doesn’t particularly matter. Laurents’ libretto is a meandering mess that tries too hard to lampoon everything imaginable. It seems that by trying to make the show all about everything that the creators inadvertently made it about nothing. David Ives made judicious cuts to the book, but to little avail: the piece as a whole is still unworkable and unsalvageable.

But there is still that score. Goddard Lieberson had the foresight to record the score in spite of the show’s closing. Sondheim, at this point, was primarily known as a lyricist and whose only Broadway composing credit was the smash hit A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. It was in Anyone Can Whistle that Broadway had its first taste of the Sondheim style and sound, which would revolutionize the genre in 1970’s Company. The album turned the show into a cult favorite, keeping Sondheim’s music and lyrics alive.

In honor of the composer’s 80th birthday, Encores! offers the rare NY revival and it is highly doubtful this production could be bettered. Director-choreographer Casey Nicholaw, also responsible for the memorable Encores! concert of Follies three years ago, has staged the piece with winning originality, especially in the subtitled bedroom scene. His dances are especially polished. They culminate in a showstopping climax with the “Cookie Chase,” a comic ballet complete with butterfly nets and tumbles. It’s a zany, absurd piece that simultaneous recalls the Keystone Cops and Tchaikowsky and is utterly ingenious, and an homage to the work of Herbert Ross, the original choreographer.

This is one of the best I’ve seen at the City Center. However, if producers are thinking of transferring this one, I don’t think that would be a wise move. It’s unlikely that we’ll ever see a commercial production that could make the show work or make it as fun as this one. But this is the ideal Encores! experience: a show that wouldn’t ordinarily be revived. This one will be best remembered for its triumphant weekend. Let’s hope next season can produce such a winner. Now I just wonder who’ll we have to see about getting Donna Murphy onstage in that other Lansbury star vehicle, Mame.