There’s been a bit of a delay in the posting of my Disney Newsies the Musical response. That’s in part because I had so many other theatrical ventures that week, all of which will be recounted in this “Scene in Cleveland” Omnibus Edition! Continue reading
On Tuesday I will see the second show of the Playhouse Square Broadway Series, Newsies (or, rather, “Disney Newsies the Musical“). This is the only show of the season that I have seen before, having caught the original cast of the Broadway production. I’ve always been a huge fan of the movie, ever since I saw it IN THEATERS and bought the soundtrack, at the Disney store, packaged in a CARDBOARD LONG BOX. I’ve attended Brooklyn-hipster-sing-along nights. For years (and kinda still today) Newsies was my primary reference point of Christian Bale, Robert Duvall, and Ann Margret. And I know that the movie is about 30 minutes of awesome (all of which involves singing and dancing and shirtless men whose ages we will never ever discuss) surrounded by about two hours of really boring movie.
Disney Newsies the Musical was as big of a surprise hit as anything leading off with “Disney” can be. It started at Papermill Playhouse in New Jersey and originally came to Broadway under the guise of a “limited run” that would then launch a national tour. But then the “limited run” ran for over two years, fueled by enthusiastic singing and dancing of a corps of muscular, obviously-over-18-but-under-25, men. Harvey Fierstein wrote a new book that streamlined the story, balanced the pacing, and generally greatly improved upon the screenplay. It even took home Tonys for its score (Alan Menkin and Jack Feldman) and choreography (Christopher Gattelli).
So why didn’t I like it nearly as much as I (desperately) wanted to? Continue reading
Tomorrow night my gentleman friend and I are throwing a combination Halloween/House Warming party, so I will use it as an excuse to share the “secret” recipe for my kiiiiiiinda famous spinach dip. I first made it at a lakehouse weekend with some friends and have been perfecting it–and trotting it out at just about every party/pot luck I’ve attended–ever since. The “secret” ingredient is goat cheese. (Shhhhhh) Below is what I have determined, via years of research, to be the definitive recipe. Veggies, pretzels and pita chips compliment the dip particularly well, but the best option is torn up pieces of bread drizzled with olive oil, sprinkled with kosher salt and black pepper, and toasted in a 350 degree oven for 10 minutes or so. Continue reading
As I walked down Euclid Avenue after seeing Motown the musical, I was confronted by a series of vertical digital screens staggered along the sidewalk with ever changing displays promoting current and future performances, selling the mere idea of going out (a quartet of white-haired ladies with martini glasses is captioned “It’s Never Too Late for a Girl’s Night”), and dizzying collage of Motown-related tweets with the hashtag #DancingInTheSeats, culled from the previous weekend (and no doubt updated through it’s run.) Even though my show tweets were limited to an instagram of my souvenir magnet (see image to the left) and murderous rage and the audience members behind me, I will confess I too was frequently inspired to boogie in the confines of red velour. I was also frequently inspired to wish I had worn a watch, or that there was enough light to check the program to see how much time I had until intermission/the end. Continue reading
On Tuesday I will see my first show as a subscriber to the Playhouse Square Broadway Series: Mowtown the musical. I’ve decided that for each show I see in the series I’ll do a “preview piece” in which I describe what my expectations are and what I’m looking forward too (or dreading).
The mythology surrounding where Rodgers and Hammerstein’s impetus to musicalize Margaret Landon’s Anna and the King of Siam is a bit fuzzy. Gertrude Lawrence had her lawyer acquire the stage rights and asked Rodgers and Hammerstein to musicalize the property (after previously approaching Cole Porter). The respective wives of R&H, unaware of Lawrence’s intentions, also suggested the material. The fuzziness in lore lies in the sequence of those two requests/recommendations particularly with respect to the 1946 film (the rights for which were purchased before the biographical novel even hit shelves). Some sources say Lawrence was inspired by the movie and the wives seem to be generally regarded as having based their recommendation on the book. Legend also states that Hammerstein was unsure of his ability to reign in the novel’s episodic sprawl to a conventional theatrical arch, but was convinced by the film’s treatment to do his own adaptation. On its own merits, the film is elegant and engaging, if a bit overlong and dated. Its screenplay (by Sally Benson and Talbot Jennings) and Bernard Herrmann score were nominated for Oscars, as was Gale Sondergaard’s stately portrayal of Lady Thiang. The film won Oscars for it’s cinematography and art direction.
Of all the adaptations of Margaret Landon’s novel, this movie is probably the least culturally sensitive. Before any actors appear on screen the 1946 movie is clearly states its viewpoint of Anna as a saintly educator of the otherwise barbaric Siamese, as stated in the conclusion of its written prologue:
It should also be noted that almost none of the actors playing Siamese characters are of Asian decent with bronzer seemingly accounting for the bulk of it’s production budget.
Rex Harrison is an impish King with a frequently childlike sense of wonder and amusement and gives a winning performance, though he occasionally adopts certain physical and vocal mannerisms that can evoke unpleasant “yellowface” stereotypes. Those issues aside, Harrison brings warmth, dignity and humor to the role and one sees why he was an early choice for the musical.
Irene Dunne makes a wonderful Anna and would surely been a wonder in the musical if given the chance. She has a particularly strong moment when she realizes the rooms provided for her at the palace have her situated in the middle of a harem: she initially reacts with incredulous, almost crazed laughter that soon segues into disbelief and ultimately despair. The film dramatizes the novel’s scenario involving Anna being told she has a house only to be led to a decrepit residence in a fish market, and Dunne’s reaction is as satisfying as it is in the harem scene.
The ’46 film’s portrayal of Tuptim (played by Linda Darnell) follows the book with respect to her demise (complete with her disguise as a priest and the false accusal–and execution–of the man suspected of being her accomplice and lover), but takes liberties elsewhere, inserting her into scenes that were about other palace women in the novel and setting her up as a rival to Anna. Anna and Tuptim first cross words when, to Anna’s dismay, Tuptim arrives in class with a monkey on her shoulders–a gift from the King and a sign that Tuptim is the current favorite. Later Anna discovers a slave chained to a post with a baby. She learns this slave has a husband who wishes to pay for her freedom but that the sale is stopped by the slaves owner, Tuptim. Anna appeals to the King on behalf of the slave and the slave is released. When Tuptim realizes it was Anna who convinced the King to rule in the slave’s favor she runs off proclaiming, “If I am not first, there is nothing here for me.” This is the incident that prompts Tuptim to disguise herself and hide in the monastery.
As in the musical, Anna’s anger at the King over this treatment of Tuptim (here he refuses to halt her execution or hear evidence of her innocence) leads Anna to declare that she is leaving Siam. But in the 1946 film she is stopped not by news of the King’s ill health, but by the untimely death of Louis in a horse-riding accident. The King writes Anna a letter of apology for his previous behavior (similar to that in the musical) and tells her that Louis will be honored with a royal burial.
But Anna’s decision to forgive the King and stay in Siam is ultimately inspired by a touching conversation with Lady Thiang. Thiang expresses regret and frustration at her inability to provide the education and guidance Chulalongkorn needs to become an effective leader and implores Anna to stay for his sake. Anna stays on, even after the King’s eventual death, with the express mission of educating the prince and the film ends with her looking radiantly on as Chulalongkorn takes the throne and issues his first proclamations of reform.
The films strongest performance is delivered by Lee J. Cobb as the Kralahome. He has one stirring scene with Harrison in which they described the annexation of Cambodia by France and it’s implication of threat to Siam as an independent county. In the movie’s best scene, the Kralahome explains to Anna the central dichotomy of the King’s persona:
He is an old world King raised in the manner and traditions of his father and charged with maintaining the customs and spirit of Siam while who must also try and modernize the country so it can remain strong in the face of foreign influences seek to colonize the country. Though Siam’s political situation is mentioned in the book, the discussion is typically in the form of dry history and is not integrated into the emotional framework of the Anna/King relationship. The fear of becoming a protectorate of a foreign crown factors into the musical as the reason for the dinner party of Edward Ramsey, but the ’46 film gives this fear greater weight, and the result is revelatory.
As newspapers, magazines and countless websites spend a lot of time this month discussing the high and low points of this Fall TV season, I wonder if there was this much speculative criticism forty years ago. I’m particularly curious as to the nature of the buzz surrounding Anna and the King, a curiosity of a series that ran for 13 episodes in the fall of 1972. The pilot episode, with an optional commentary from its Anna, Samantha Eggars, is included as a bonus feature on the blu ray of The King and I.
I recently finished listening to the audiobook edition of Margaret Langdon’s Anna and the King of Siam, the source material for The King and I. To separate fact from legend, I also watched an episode of A&E’s Biography (which is include as a bonus feature on the dvd of the 1946 film Anna and the King of Siam which is on my watchlist for the weekend). Continue reading
I recently discussed the faithful and visually opulent 1956 film version of The King and I, with it’s unforgettable (and Oscar-winning) performance from Yul Brynner and equally memorable (and similarly Academy Award-winning) sets and costumes. But the film boasted two other equally lauded and awarded assets:Carlton W. Faulkner’s sound recording and Alfred Newman’s adaptation of the score. With it’s lush cinematic orchestrations, more assessable (i.e. lower) keys and smooth vocals (most of which were dubbed), the original motion picture soundtrack was always a worthy (if incomplete) alternative to those who found Gertrude Lawrence’s vocals on the OBCR an acquired taste. Continue reading
This past weekend I saw Blank Canvas Theatre’s production of Hair. The score by Galt MacDermot, Gerome Ragni, and James Rando follows no conventional rules of musical theater and is all the better for it. The story is almost nonexistent and spottily told, but the last ten minutes are deeply moving and haunting. I was pleased to see two ensemble members from Cain Park’s recent production of The Frogs have more showcased roles roles here, and the cast contained many other performers who I hope again to see in future area productions. So it’s unfortunate that I walked away thinking less about them and more about the evening’s many sound-related issues. Continue reading