Sunday, April 19, 2015

Visitors From Long Ago, Remembering When They Were Young

The Visit at the Lyceum Theatre

The cast of The Visit and Chita Rivera.


            I am growing very tired, in this overstuffed and not especially high-quality theater season, of recommending shows purely based on the exhilaration of spending time in the room with the star.  Fish in the Dark (Larry David’s inexpert play in which he stars) and On the Twentieth Century (which has a lackluster score but features Kristen Chenoweth) are just two of the offerings so far this cycle which don’t have very much to offer on their own but the promise of spending time in the presence of a legend of show business.  So I won’t make that suggestion for The Visit, the new musical by Kander and Ebb (Cabaret, Chicago) at the Lyceum Theatre, which stars Chita Rivera.  If you’re interested in seeing Ms. Rivera, now 82, trod the boards at the end of her career, little will keep you from stampeding to the theater.  But I wouldn’t recommend it.
            The second-to-last musical (before 2010’s The Scottsboro Boys) written by composer John Kander and lyricist Fred Ebb before Ebb’s death in 2004, The Visit only hints at their potential.  The saloon piano and discordant strings that have become trademarks of Kander’s career are there, as are Ebb’s tricky but satisfying lyrics.  But the score is completely forgettable, with not one hummable melody.  Meanwhile the book is clunky and obvious.  No surprise it was written by the talentless Terence McNally, whose catastrophe It’s Only a Play continues to grind on just down 45th Street and who additionally collaborated with Kander and Ebb on 1984’s The Rink and 1992’s Kiss of the Spider Woman.  Much of McNally’s dialogue is completely unnecessary, and what little of it drives the plot along does so blatantly and without style, in the manner of an inter-scene of an elementary school revue.
            The story, such as it is, is based on the Friedrich Dürrenmatt play Der Besuch der alten Dame and follows Claire Zachanassian (Ms. Rivera), who, we are told over and over and over again until we want to bury our heads in the sand, is the wealthiest woman in the world.  Aging and having recently lost her sixth husband, Claire returns to her broke hometown of Brachen, Switzerland, with a proposition—she’ll gift the town ten billion marks (a sum possessed by no one in the world at the time of the play’s supposed post-World War II setting) if they’ll kill her ex-lover Anton Schell (Roger Rees), who wronged her horribly when she was seventeen.  This concept could have been elevated to the level of creepily seductive horror, but like the warbling eunuchs who make up Claire’s entourage, it isn’t as fully realized as other Kander and Ebb creations in the same vein (most notably the Emcee in Cabaret).  This is partly the fault of the material—McNally’s book doesn’t give any of these contrivances a reason to exist—but also that of the director, John Doyle, and choreographer, Graciela Daniele, who make everything more awkward and wooden than it has any reason to be.  Even among Scott Pask's gorgeous, bleak scenic design and the limited narrative momentum gained by successive revelations that pop up suddenly in the one-act's second half, this show, despite its morality-play intentions, has no real point.

            So the draw, then, would be Ms. Rivera, back on the stage for the first time since the revival of The Mystery of Edwin Drood in 2012.  And it is, indeed, great to watch the audience explode into cheers merely for her entrance.  But the fact is that as an octogenarian, Ms. Rivera has remaining only the impression of a singing voice and no dancing ability whatsoever.  (Claire does a lot of flamboyant walking in circles.)  So if your goal is to be in the room with a star, The Visit will do you just fine—though either of the plays mentioned at the beginning of this review are at least more fun than this one.  But if you’re looking for the kind of immersive bliss Ms. Rivera offered audiences in West Side Story or Chicago, keep dreaming.  Like Kander and Ebb, she had her prime, and this is not it.

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