A Midlife Crisis Never Sounded So Good: The Kids Left... The Review

The Kids Left, The Dog Died,
Now What?

TBG Theatre

What do you do when your kids have married off, the family pet has gone to the great big backyard in the sky? Runaway with the pool man? Maybe join a gym? Or write a musical? writing a musical is exactly what Carol Lonner did when her kids left and the dog died.
Lonner returns to NYMF this year with a musical review about twenty out of seventy-eight million baby boomers in America dealing with their coming of "middle" age in the twenty-first century. So what we have here are twenty geriatrics shuffling around recanting all of their misadventures and missed opportunities? No, they're not twenty geriatrics singing about bowel movements or false teeth - believe me I was afraid of that - but five vibrant performers in their prime of their lives. Lonner, with her recently educated view on this particular topic - she just turned thirty-nine this year, again - crafts a night of musical tenderness that both baby boomers and their children can relate to.
From the topics of grandchildren and why grandparents love and abhor them in the same breath, to the need to reconnect with another person, late in life, after the passing or leaving of a partner, every aspect of the mid life, empty nest syndrome is covered. These five actors brought to life my parents and their friends. Bravo for Ms. Lonner and the creative team of The Kids Left, The Dog Died, Now What... for creating a night of theatre that speaks to a wide range of audiences.
Now, as much as I have bashed niche theatre for its exclusivity, yet here I'm advocating it as a means of improvement for Ms. Lonner and her as is wonderful show. Maybe not niche, but a leaner casting. The men of the show is it's weak spot. They are continually being out done by their female counter parts . It's not that the men's performances are off, but that their characters are not that developed. Ms. Lonner has a personal connection to the plight of her dramatis personae, and her view on her men folk is not quite as developed. This is not a slight, but advice to make the show more solid than it already is. Had the show been a two hander about women going through their golden years, helmed by Mary Jo McConnell and Marsha Mercantan, the show could have been a lot stronger. Ms. Lonner's attuned observations about the female sect of the baby boomers could have moved the show by itself (this could just be my own personal relationship with my mother, but I think not).
When leaving the TBG Theatre Ms. Lonner sends you out warmed, with a stirring to call your mom and dad, just to say "I love you", and pester them, as much as they pester you. The Kids Left, The Dog Died... is one of those shows that sticks with you, not because its changing the face of musical theatre, but because it goes at the heart strings with a giant bow and plays you for all your worth. The funny thing is that you go along with it, enjoying each pluck from Ms. Lonner, and doing the "Casserole Roll" all the way home.

Step In, Step Out, Step Up

STEP
45th Street Theatre

Whether we like it or not a new brand of theatre choreography is making its way to the stage, and it is not holding back.
Step, one of the 34 new musicals at NYMF this year, is an amalgamation of storytelling and urban dance rhythms. What Maxine Lyle (choreographer) and the Soul Steppers have done is take a form of dance, that is becoming ever more popular in black universities across the country, and made an attempt of turning that into a two hour performance piece. Step has to two major flaws in it's conception and execution:
1.) It plays not to a general mass appeal, but to a sect of the population. The creative team has tried to make a political and social statement with this show, that fails to reach anyone but the choir. This is a problem with niche theatre, they try to educate people outside of the niche but end up educating only those inside that niche. I know that step is not a mainstream form of dance, but if your message is meant for the masses, I hate to say it, but you are forced to play to the masses. A show like Step cannot stay afloat just by niche appeal, and if the show can't stay open, then there is no message to get across.
What message is this show trying to get across?
I found myself asking the same question. For a moment it seemed like a sermon about the oppression of blacks, then it sounded like an education on the ways of stepping, then on to the origins of the style, then to why people step in general. I'm still not sure, sitting here thinking back on it, not that it matters, really, the meaning and message lies in the audiences perception, and that can vary. But, to me, coming out of that theatre I wasn't really quite sure what the was trying to say to me in particular.
2.) Step is slightly self indulgent. This ties into the niche problems that the show is having. Mixing group routines with solo performances, there was rarely any, with the exception of one or two pieces, that stood apart from each other. What I'm saying is that a step routine, while fun and exciting for five minutes, doesn't necessarily translate well into an hour and a half production, even when there is spoken dialogue and a few songs thrown in for good measure. Step doesn't come off as a dance form that is vast in it's movements, so by minute forty five it seemed as though we were watching the same routine again and again.
I'd also like to comment on the fact that a show that is dance oriented does not constitute a musical. Step falls into a category with Contact. While contact is a cohesive unit, that pulls the audience along through dialogue and a through plot line, it is not what I would consider a musical, same goes for Step.
Back to my first statement, the dance form of step, as well as hip-hop and other urban dance, is a groundbreaking form of choreography, that is showing up on the Great White Way, even as I type this. Modern dance and it's influence can be seen in Legally Blonde for instance. Like I said before, this is happening whether we like it or not, and its not such a bad thing either. With every generation there come a new breed of dance and a new style. What Step has done is bring another type of dance onto the musical stage. Where this show has failed others can build upon. While Step is in itself not a show of note, what it tried to do for the art of dance is commendable.

Like Love: When the Muses Arrow Misses the Mark

Like Love
TBG Theatre

What happens when you take three Broadway stars, put them in a black box, and give them a pianist? Like Love, is what happens. And ladies and gentlemen of the theatre, it's not always the best results.
Barry Jay Kaplan (Book and Lyrics) and Lewis Finn (Music) took the idea of "fuck buddies" and what would happen if they were to fall in love with each other and wrote a show about. In the vein of The Last Five Years the duo have crafted a show that is wondrous to listen to, yet tricky to stage and to watch. They have delivered to NYMF a show, who's score is beautiful, lyrics poignant and touching, yet who's book is nil and what little there is, is confusing.
You would think casting Broadway and Sondheim veteran Danielle Ferland as the cupidesque character of love (she morphs form scene to scene, male to female, bartender to girl confidant, with not a lot of grace a penash) would give the show a little something extra, but sadly it leads the audience to edge of their seats waiting for "Little Red" to ask for her glasses. Ferland's characterization of love, decked out in red - did anyone think about the colors before they dressed her - is weak, and she relies on her "star" power to get her through the show. Ms Ferland is awkward, not knowing how or what do to with herself as she goes through the motions of matchmaker. This could be poor direction, but one would think that an actress like Ms Ferland, who has worked with the likes of James Lapine, could make anything work, even lack of guidance.
The true surprises of the night were High Fidelity stars Emily Swallow and Jon Patrick Walker. Seeing the billing for the show, one would assume that Ms Ferland would refuse to be upstage and out shined by her newbie co stars, but she lets herself not just be upstage, but out performed and run down by these new faces.
Ms Swallow finds a way to open herself like a fresh wound, and let the audience into her secret world. She has a better grasp on the music, it's meanings and undertones, than her fellow cast mates, as well as being more believable in her role than the rest. Her voice is a pleasant sound that made the evening seem to fly by - there should be more song birds like this in the theatre, who understand the power of understating something as opposed to belt everything to the rafters.
Jon Patrick Walker, while not a bad performer, pales in comparison to Ms Swallow. Walker's performance is not so much sublime, but still endearing. He has the soft voice of a tenor, and there were moments when he was playing the music for all it was worth that you wanted to say, "Hey, lady, what are you waiting for go get him he loves you, and if you won't I will!"
I will praise all three of these actors for making a show go without the proper dialogue to move it along. Like Love's faults are not in it's music, but in the script that we do not ever really have. There are moments where I thought that Mr Kaplan would pull out a real flushed out story, but he only left me hanging dry. As a team, though, musically, that it is, Kaplan and Flinn are almost unstoppable. The tunes they have constructed are emotional and raw, giving the actors the meat for the bare bones of the script. If this team were to put together a cast album, I'm almost positive it would sell, becoming a cult hit, much like their predecessor in the field of the small cast love musical The Last Five Years.
Like Love is a fine musical, if work shopped or done as a reading, but as a full scale production it is like a souffle that just couldn't make it to the top, and is sitting at the bottom of the pan, limp, because some forgot to put in the flour.

The Little Egypt-ian Musical That Couldn't and the Straight Plan That Can

Little Egypt
The Acorn Theatre

NYMF is a musical theatre festival, correct?
So what is a straight play doing in the festival?
It's not so much a straight play as it is a straight play with music in it. What show am I talking about, I know you're asking yourself. The show is Little Egypt, playing at the Acorn Theatre at Theatre Row.
Little Egypt is the point in the American Midwest where three rivers come together - much like the real Egypt, funny, right - and is the setting for the musical. The show follows the lives of three women, a returning college grad, and her mother and sister, as the come to terms with themselves and each other. So what we have here is a dining room drama, only thing is, there are toe tapping, lyrically slapstick musical comedy songs intermixed. The show is populated by some wonderfully talented people, the book was written by the wonderfully talented Lynn Siefert, the music by the talented Gregg Lee Henry, but for some reason it doesn't work.
First of all the music seems forced. The songs don't come out of the situations surrounding them, they come out of a need to make this a musical, or at least that's what I was getting. The songs slow down the momentum of the show, while by themselves they are truly funny and heart warming, but in the context of the "book" musical they are completely out of place. It's almost as if Ms Seifert called on Mr Henry, so that they could throw something together to get this bad boy on it's feet at the New York Musical Theatre Festival. And, kiddo, it hurt them, as was seen by the vastly empty house, as well as the three or four people that left at intermission. Here's my theatre on the reasoning behind these sudden departures.
The show was going along smoothly, then in comes a musical number, okay, it was alright, maybe they get better. More great story follows, then we are retched, as if by Brecht or Veil, out of the reality of the show and into unreality of a musical number by an out of work pariah in an Illinois shopping mall spouting that "Nobody's Immune". Hold the phone, what happened to the development of the story and these slightly off beat characters. This modus operandi continues on through the act, and we are left at intermission with a very abrupt ballad, pretty, but forcibly odd.
Come back from intermission into act two, minus the four people I saw leaving, and the same system is in affect. What the show needs, and what could have kept those people on their seats, was a lot less singing and dancing, and more script. I know I keep repeating myself, but it bares it, I believe.
Let's take a look at the actors. A cast of characters as uncouth and quirky as the ones assembled by Ms Siefert, need no help coming to life, but when you take a group of talented personalities and give them this script, character drawn hilarity ensues. From foible to foible we follow the lives of Celeste, odd ball college grad, Faye, her drunken sexed up mother, and Bernadette, her searching for Mr Right through a lot of Mr Wrongs sister. The thing is we care about these women, we want them to come out on top, until the start in with the singing and dancing, and all of a sudden the walls of reality come down around us.
It is a tricky thing to mix the music and the book, and sometimes the story lends itself to that way of presentation, but Little Egypt, pulls and bucks like a newly leashed trained dog. It fights the congruence of the two art forms, and the best thing that can be done for it, is to let one go. My advice let the music go, stick with what really works.
But bravo to the creative team for bringing this slice of mid west life to the New York stage, and for sticking with it.

Love Kills, the Anti Book Musical? Not Hardly.

Love Kills
The 45th Street Theatre

Brooklyn based, Obie award winning, writer, Kyle Jarrow, comes to NYMF this year with a story about love, and murder. In Love Kills, Jarrow charts a map of two teenagers hearts through their murderous spree through Kansas in 1958. The scandalous, true life, killing spree was the basis for the Oliver Stone Movie Natural Born Killers, and Jarrow saw it as a means to bring the first ever "emo rock musical" to the stage.

Spinning this tale around the night that Charlie Starkweather (Eli Schneider) and Caril Anne Fugate (Marisa Rhodes) were brought into custody by Sheriff Meril Karnopp (John Hickok), allows Jarrow to explore the differences in teenage love and it's counterpart, mature love.
Bringing this show to life with the popular sound of emo (emotional) rock, was a bold choice for the Obie winner, but one that helps to feed the shows deeply emotional under current. When you're talking about angsty teenage love, emo seems the best way to go about it - if you are writing a show that you want a strictly younger audience to relate to. But, the question is this: Jarrow said in an interview that the traditional "book musical" were awkward and that, as a "taste thing" he didn't like them. The funny thing is, what Jarrow has created is a the traditional "book musical" with a slight twist, the music is anything but traditional.
If Jarrows aim was to create a musical that is counter to that of the traditional sect, then he failed, largely because all of the songs come from the plot, serving the same purpose as traditional musical theatre songs, bringing the character's feelings out in a way that couldn't be done with dialogue.
Don't get me wrong the show is wonderfully crafted, the plot linear, flashing back periodically to illustrate the evolution, not of the crimes, but of the characters. Jarrow has brings to life, and makes the audience feel for them, characters that are human, fully three dimensional. Whether the performances of said characters is three dimensional is up for debate. Schneider does a wonderful job, both with his singing and acting, of realize the troubled teen, Charlie. True, Schneider, has had the role for quite some time - he debuted the show in Boston - and should been more than comfortable in the characters shoes. Ms. Rhodes, despite her beautiful singing voice, leaves you wanted more form her character. It seems as if she is trying too hard to make us believe that she is a young teen, instead of believing that she herself is a young teen. It's like the rule of comedy, if you try to be funny you want be.
The one fault that arises from doing a strictly "emo rock musical" is that veterans of the traditional ilk, look awkward and most of the time sound awkward singing these songs. Hickok and his co star Deirdre O'Connell (Gertrude Karnopp), approach the music with an old school attitude, though they gallantly try to look comfortable in these new types of songs, and the look of the performance is skewed. The younger actors can lend their voices to this style of music, getting guttural and raspy, but it is much more difficult for the older sect, which brings the problem of the "emo rock musical" up. How do you do it without alienating the rest of the world and cast?
I think that Love Kills is another sign of the changing times. Theatre is belonging more and more to the youth of America, and the old ways are slowly fading into the sunset. It's nice to know though, that no matter how hard the new sect fights the old way, it still prevails, and the "book musical" will always be at the base of any great show.

Best of Fest Week Ever! (part one)

A week ago today, the fourth annual New York Musical Theatre Festival official began, premiering 34 new shows this year, and marking the 100th show to be presented by the fledgling - but not so fledgling - theatre festival. That's a pretty impressive accomplishment.
Let's take this moment to give Kris Stewart a round of applause.
Thank you. (Oh, by the by, Kris, just so you know, it was John R DeLamar jr, that gave you that little bit of ballyhoo. Just so you don't forget, that's John R DeLamar jr.
Shameless plug over, moving on.)
As the festival hit it's first week mark for this year, I thought I would still a little from my favorite VH1 show, and present my best week ever - NYMF stlye. So, kiddo, here we go, and as Bette Davis said once... Hell, y'all know what she said, and if you don't shame on you!
The Festival started this year with a bang, as it reached it's centennial - image that. A festival that is only four years old, and already hitting triple digits. We will from now on refer to them as festival years - with the show Angle of the Sun. From what I hear the show is nice, that's all I have to report on it - I haven't seen it so who knows - if anyone has anything else let me know, but all I've gotten is just nice. Well, good for you Angle of the Sun, you nice bunch of people you.
Opening on September 17, as well - and coming in at number 101, not as amazing as 100, but hey who's counting (other than me) - was Boy in the Bathroom. Yet again, sorry, another one I haven't seen, and I haven't heard anything about it either way so far, so that's good, I guess.
Monday's main dish though was the opening night party - I was actually there for this one, except when I went to go get pizza. This year NYMF opened it's doors to the general theatre public, with an event sponsored by Johnny Love Vodka. Johnny Love was nice enough to even give away free press on tattoos, problem is: I still have mine on the inside of my wrist, thanks to my loving boyfriend. So, Johnny Love, any tips on how to get the shit off? If so, just drop me a line, thanks. A couple of cocktails, and we're heading to the pizza bar next door, then back to the party, as it cleared out - all the free booze was gone, and so were the revelers, and alas being the social conscious - cheap bastard that I am - party goer that I am, migrated with the rest of the herd home.
A brief run down of the shows that opened this week: Angle of the Sun, Boy in the Bathroom, Unlock'd, Austentatious, Love Kills - see my review-, Gemini, Tully (In No Particular Order) - heard this one was real good, kiddo, check it out -, The Brain From Planet X, The Good Fight, Like Love - see my review -, Roller Derby, Virtuosa, Die Hard: The Puppet Musical, Suddenly Summer, Intervention, The Piper - see my review -, The Rockae, and Top of the Heap.
This week I saw three shows (in case anyone cares): The Piper, Like Love, and Love Kills.
The Piper, a Celtic romp through the death list of illicit women of Boston. This one is a keeper, a nice show, on a dreary day in September, and where better to see a show all about debaucheries than in a church - who decides these things, because, friends, they are A plus in my book. For more on this show see my review: "God Bless the Broken Road... That Led me Straight to The Piper."
Like Love, is a show full of Broadway veterans, good music and not a whole more. I can't help but wonder how do you go from Stephen Sondheim to a black box in a theatre festival? Hmmm... Not to slight anyone in the cast, let me tell you, they are some fierce talents - as awkward as some moments are - but one has to wonder what's it all for, when the story misses the mark. At least it's got some good songs. For more on this show see my review: "Like Love: When the Muse's Arrow Misses".
Love Kills, all I have to say about this one is NUDITY! The show deserves the best week ever award for putting two hotties on stage in nothing but their birthday suits. Yes, my friends, sex sells, and I've already laid my twenty bucks down to see it again. For more on this show see my review: "Love Kills, the Anti Book Musical? Think Not."
Stop judging me, about the nude thing, really. Check out the head shots. I mean wow wow wow wow!
Drum roll please...
BRRRRRRRRRR... (shut up, I can hear the laughter over in Brooklyn)
The Best/Worst Week Ever (for this week anyway!)
Worst Week: Austentaious. Okay, seeing as though I haven't seen the show - I've hear, oh, have I heard - I shouldn't be judging - me of all people, really - but why? Stephanie D'Abruzzo has so much talent, and really how many different versions of Noises Off do we need to see? If we all stop laughing at the original will the copycats stop popping up? Sheeesh! Is her family locked in a basement somewhere, if so let them out!
Best Week: Kris Stewart - Am I getting a little too kiss assy? Sorry.
Best (for real) Week: Marcus Hummon and the cast of The Piper. This show could transfer - after a few rewrites and subtle changes - across town to the Great White way. Hoorah for giving the people something classic, but with something new to offer. Great big chorus numbers, Thrills, Love, Horror, this is what it means to make musical theatre.
If you hate, you hate. If you love me, you love me. Either way there is my Best of the Fest Week Ever (part one). Let me know what you think, either way - just be nice, please, I'm sensitive. Here's hoping you have the best week ever, kiddo. See you at the festival.

"God bless the broken road..." that lead me straight to The Piper

The Piper
Theater at St. Clements

A quiet, pleasant surprise held sway over me as I left the Theater at St. Clements, Friday afternoon. The surprise you ask? The newest offering from music industry and festival favorite, Marcus Hummon - who had a success last year at NYMF with The Warrior as well as a Grammy for his Rascal Flatts' "Bless the Broken Road". There are no Pop songs found here, yet the show is reminescent of the sort of catchy, emotional melodies Hummon is known for.
Set in turn of the century, Boston, in the midst of a fevered search for a prostitute strangling madman, Jordan - a former prostitute, turned inn keeper - takes on a new boarder, who she thinks might be the serial killer.
Yeah, sounds dark right? And, yes, it is dark, but like all really great dark musicals, there is some small light that shines through, pulling you through to the story's conclusion. A spark that makes you feel for the heroine and her lame daughter, plagued by discrimination and poverty.
The Piper, with Hummon crafting not only the songs, but the book as well, seems right for the picking by any good producer. It is the first show of the festival that I have seen, that I feel can transfer to Broadway, not just Off Broadway. This musical is best suited for a large scale production that only Broadway could offer, what with it's enormous scenic span, and chorus heavy music. That's another thing, this show, like so many other dark or heavy musicals, goes back to what makes musical theatre so chilling: the large chorus.
Hummon has built his show around the vagabonds and high society of the Boston Irish, lending the music to be grandly scored for an exquisite chorus. The opening number "A New Jerusalem" actually gave me the feeling that I have missed so much, on the the musical theatre stage, goose pimples, and tears poking the sides of my eyes. This, kiddo, is what musical theatre is all about. Hearing human voices mingling together in such a way as the ones on display at the St. Clements, is awe inspiring.
Kudos to director, Michael Bush, for skillfully navigating the waters of this grand story. Focusing more on the characters and their interaction with each other, and the story proper, Bush has scaled down everything else - very similar to Harold Prince's direction of Sweeney Todd, which this show puts me in the mind set of. Bush has taken the cast under wing, using his years of experience with the Manhattan Theatre Club, and ushered them through surely arduous stand out roles, and into a cohesive unit. That is the main thing that is to be admired of Bush: the creation of an ensemble piece, out of a show that could have been a star vehicle.
It's the Cast's ability to meld into each other that makes talk of individuals difficult. There is no stand out performance - not that it's a bad thing. The company feeds from each other, like good actors, and drawing that energy from each other puts everyone on the same level and page. Although, I would like to mention Christiane Noll's performance as Jordan, the story's heroine. Ms. Noll, while slipping out of her thick Irish dialect, still commands the stage. Her head strong, archetypal as it may be, Irish immigrant, is believable and doesn't seem to be forced, as many performances of immigrants can seem. Ms. Noll has grasped the underlying theme of this character, she has recognized her motives for their universality, and plays it to the nines along the audiences heartstrings.
As wonderful a surprise as The Piper was, it was abrupt in it's second act. The second act is always the hardest, and always the most in need of work, The Piper is no different. After the build up before intermission, the audience is denied the ending they want, they are rushed through veiled conclusions that don't seem to make much sense, but are covered by one of the show's more beautiful songs, "Pay the Piper", so we buy it. But, I find myself asking Mr. Hummon: Why does the show end with such pain and such beauty, musically, and so ambiguously by the book?
With it's one true fault aside, The Piper, should be on the list of the best of fest - in the top ten, at least. I wouldn't be surprised to see Mr. Hummon's work on the Great White Way in a few years. Hummon has taken the basic potato - if you'll excuse the Irish pun, here - salted, diced, covered it with cheese, and garnished it with some of the most beautiful greenery, and what we get is one hell of a meal. Thank you NYMF and Marcus Hummon for the feast that is The Piper.