Shakespeare's the Villain and Dirty Jokes the Hero in a Renaissance-Era Musical

Something Rotten at the St. James Theatre

(L-R): Christian Borle and Brian D'Arcy James as dueling playwrights in Something Rotten.

          You won't be happy, exactly, when you leave the St. James Theatre after sitting through a performance of Something Rotten (although "sitting through" is a bit of a harsh term -- it's quite fun in places).  You probably will have expected more out of the material, given the production's ten Tony nominations -- including, surprisingly, Best Score.  (Really?  Ten for this and nothing for Honeymoon in Vegas?)  You won't have learned anything, really; the book doesn't teach cliched lessons as much as it acknowledges its daffy, dizzyingly busy plot doesn't really have anything to say at all and then runs with it.  But you'll be wonderfully proud of the actors on stage -- especially Brian D'Arcy James and Christian Borle, two of the greatest actors of musical comedy who have ever lived -- and equally talented director/choreographer Casey Nicholaw.  They've clearly found something they, for whatever reason, love, and think is worthy of their time and talents, and they're having a hell of a time.  More power to them; it's not hurting anyone.

          Wildly inconsistent, pleasantly simple and guaranteed to leave you smiling if not laughing for most of its two and a half hour-running time, Something Rotten concerns the Bottom brothers, Nick (James) and Nigel (John Cariani, whose mincing nerd stereotype gets old fast), two unsuccessful playwrights.  Nick's married to a supportive proto-feminist, Bea (the strong-voiced Heidi Blickenstaff, playing a nothing role) and needs a hit fast to support his growing family.  But life ain't easy for all Elizabethan dramatists -- as the score puts it, in a dazzling display of wit, "If your name is Shakespeare, you're hotter than hot / But if you're any other playwright, then you're not."  So Nick goes to a less-than-talented soothsayer, Nostradamus (the wonderfully funny Brad Oscar), who predicts both that the next big thing in theater will be musicals and that Shakespeare's greatest play will be called "Omelette."  Shakespeare himself (Borle) naturally figures into the ensuing brouhaha of prognostication and plagiarism.

          If only it really were as funny as it seems to think it is.  There are far too many jokes left on the table, mostly thanks to the uneven lyric-writing of Karey and Wayne Kirkpatrick (Karey also wrote the book, with John O'Farrell).  A number like "God, I Hate Shakespeare" is plainly representative of their problem.  There are a lot of legitimate reasons to hate Shakespeare's plays, if you were so inclined -- even for his day they're cliche-ridden, exposition-heavy, and occasionally narratively incomprehensible -- but thanks to the structure the Kirkpatricks lock themselves in and their lack of creativity, the song is bland and unmemorable.  Like most of their lyrics, it has no sting.  Only in three places does their brilliance rear its head -- "It's Hard to Be the Bard," because it's objectively a great song, and "A Musical" and "Make an Omelette," because they're shot through with references to modern musicals, clearly the Kirkpatricks' real passion.  It's only in those last two, and especially "Make an Omelette," that the high-energy cast achieves the chaotic, lunatic liftoff the Reduced Shakespeare Company did in "The Complete Works of Shakespeare: Abridged" -- the definitive and final Shakespeare parody.  The book, meanwhile, is passable but apt to substitute puerility for intelligence.  It also bypasses so many narrative inconsistencies that it collapses in on itself halfway through the second act.  (Why is everyone so okay with Shakespeare's blatant plagiarism?  Why is plagiarism via soothsayer punishable by death? Why is banishment to the wastes of sixteenth-century America such a great option?  Why is Nostradamus's skill as a soothsayer one minute so perfect as to predict the title of "Les Miserables" and the next minute so useless it can't even tell "Omelette" from "Hamlet?"  For that matter, if you had a soothsayer the whole time, why didn't he just predict what was going to happen so you could take steps to avoid it?  I digress.)

          The real joy, as I've said, comes in watching the actors.  Borle and James are brilliantly talented, and they make even the stupider numbers seem like joyous fun (especially Borle, who won a Tony for this role, as a glam rock-god Shakespeare who gets the best songs in the show).  The incredibly game and energetic ensemble is bent into beautiful, unique, entertaining choreographic structure by Mr. Nicholaw (who is occasionally a little over-reliant on tap numbers, but doesn't quite hit the point of diminishing returns on kick lines).  The potent atmosphere of joy is tangible the moment the curtain rises.  If all of these people are enjoying themselves so much, why can't we?  But it can be a little tough to look past all of the missed opportunities in this cluttered candy store of a show.  "There's nothing as amazing as a musical," sings Nostradamus, repeatedly.  Depends which one.

The Isle is Full of Noises

The Tempest at the Delacorte Theater

(L-R): Sam Waterston and Chris Perfetti in The Tempest.

  The Tempest is not one of Shakespeare’s best plays.  No production can hide the awkward motivations and over-exposition woven in to the Bard’s final play, a late-career fantasy that is easily interpreted as an autobiographical character study.  But the new production at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park at least convincingly makes the case for The Tempest as one of his most dramatically sound and structurally satisfying plays.  At a little over 2,000 lines, it’s Shakespeare’s second-shortest, and the lean direction, by the prolific Michael Greif, emphasizes its lithe dexterity.

  Sam Waterston, a Shakespeare in the Park veteran who first appeared on the Delacorte stage in 1963, plays Prospero, the usurped Duke of Milan who has for twelve years been banished to a Mediterranean island with his young daughter, Miranda (Francesca Carpanini, appropriately pure and very good).  In his hermetic fury, Prospero, who’s been studying sorcery in his vast swaths of downtime, shipwrecks those who stole his position on the island as part of a larger scheme.  Waterston first played Prospero forty-one years ago, in another Public production, and, perhaps unwisely, primes his age in his interpretation of the character.  His Prospero is too doddering and indecisive, and Waterston’s is forever either screaming or whispering in quick turns (the better to be heard over a constant stream of live percussion that seems a little beside the point), a trait that becomes especially annoying in the long, unnecessary bouts of storytelling that fall to him as sole source of exposition.  (Even the character acknowledges his long-windedness in this regard, at one point pausing in the middle of a tale to apologize, “No more yet of this / For 'tis a chronicle of day by day.”)  Waterston renders our hero the least interesting character in the play.

  Far more alluring is the “airy spirit” Ariel (Chris Perfetti), a sprite bound by Prospero in service to enact his supposedly complex but actually rather simple plan of revenge.  Perfetti’s clearly emoted resentment and otherworldly mannerisms make for a perfect and penetrating fairy character, and his is by far the most fully formed performance of the production.  The stage lights up when he enters.  Less delicate but equally fun to watch is Louis Cancelmi’s Caliban—a character whose potential is rarely fully plumbed in most productions—who more than rises to the dramatic challenge of an expanded relationship with Miranda and whose monstrous physicality grounds the fantasy of his story in a horrifying reality.  (Denis Jones did the choreography.)  Prospero’s servants, in this case, outflank him.

  Most of the cast, actually, is talented beyond measure, especially Bernard White as the goodly Antonio (Prospero’s only friend aboard ship) and Rodney Richardson as Prince Ferdinand of Naples.  It helps that they do their work in a production of magnificent physical design (characteristic for Shakespeare in the Park, in which even the worst productions are at least fun to look at).  Scenic designer Riccardo Hernandez creates a stark, beautiful landscape with a clear maritime influence that slowly empties and darkens as the show goes on, climaxing in a spell cast by Prospero in what appears to be a circle of stars and ending in an empty stage on which Waterston delivers the “Now my charms are o’erthrown” speech, said by some to be the most personal monologue Shakespeare ever wrote.

  Here, at least, Waterston does not disappoint.  Both he and Greif, as veteran showmen, recognize the significance and depth of the speech, which presents one of the most poignant breakings of the fourth wall in the history of language, a moving plea for connection between artist and audience.  “As you from crimes would pardon'd be, / Let your indulgence set me free,” Prospero intones, asking for applause.  It’s hardly indulgent to appreciate such consistently fine work from these institutions of the New York theater.

2015 Tony Picks

Alan Cumming and Kristin Chenoweth will host the Tony Awards this Sunday, June 7th, at 8 on CBS.

                This season on Broadway was full—too full.  Though there were only 37 new productions (the fewest since 2007), quantity was valued over quality, and the recoupments showed it.  There were a few notable flops, and still more productions that have become wildly successful (some if not most undeservingly) on the strength of flash over substance.  That being said, the true stars only shone brighter against the darkness.  Here are my picks for this year’s Tonys race.

Best Play

I wrote back in September that The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time stood a good chance of becoming a classic, and that I didn’t expect to see performances or staging rivaling its feats of theatrical mastery any time in the coming theater season.  I was right.  Curious Incident should win this category easily.

Best Musical

Of the four shows nominated in this category—or indeed, any show nominated this year—The Visit is the one whose presence confuses me most.  It is so bleak and unpleasant, with so little memorable music that one can only conclude it was nominated out of deference to three very talented and very venerated people: John Kander, Chita Rivera, and the late Fred Ebb.  Similar deference to the past can be seen in the nomination of two other shows, An American in Paris (which is beautiful and worthy but essentially a revival) and Something Rotten! (which harkens back to an era of filthy musicals whose golden age began with Avenue Q in 2003 and ended with The Book of Mormon in 2011).  Fun Home is the only masterpiece in the category, and the only one which is truly forward-thinking, innovative, and entirely new.  By all rights the works of the genius Jeanine Tesori, up to now egregiously Tony-less, should finally have their day.

Best Revival of a Play

Oddly, this is probably the most competitive category this year.  From my point of view the two best contenders were This is Our Youth and Skylight, and making a choice between the two is nearly impossible—both plays are the greatest works of their illustrious playwrights and are re-staged impeccably for the first time.  But, though it almost upsets me to decide, it seems to me This is Our Youth ought to win the trophy, especially because it was, obscenely, shut out of every other category.  Skylight is marvelous, but the pulsing, present reality of, well, youth ran through the Cort Theater during This is Our Youth’s run.  Honestly, Skylight most likely will win, but if I were in charge I’d give the (non-British) kids a turn at bat.

Best Revival of a Musical

The King and I.  No question.  Director Bartlett Sher turns anything he touches to gold.  Perfect performances.  Perfect set design.  Perfect orchestrations.  Perfect music.  This is one for the ages.

Best Book of a Musical

Another easy one.  This category contains the puerile (Something Rotten), the inexpert (An American in Paris and The Visit), and Lisa Kron, a wonderful playwright who applies her skills to Fun Home to create a libretto so real, so engaged with the score, as to be unmatched in recent seasons.  Bravo to more women on Broadway if they’re like her.

Best Score

Fun Home again.  Get used to it.  Not just because of a lack of decent competition, but because of the incredible range of composer Tesori and lyricist Kron, who go from Jackson 5-pastiche number (“Come to the Fun Home”) to painfully true familial revelations (“Telephone Wire”) with a skill and dexterity that would leave most teams with whiplash.  Anyone who can stand as an obvious choice next to Sting and Kander and Ebb deserves a Tony in my book.  (As a side note, now is probably the time to mention that shutting Jason Robert Brown’s Honeymoon in Vegas out of the nominations entirely, and especially in this category, is a travesty akin to nineteenth-century Paris society’s refusal to buy Van Gogh’s paintings.  Okay.  Rant over.)

Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role in a Play

Michael Cera was robbed of a nomination in this category, and thus we are faced with another, nearly impossible to decide matchup between the performances in two magnificent plays—Alex Sharp in Curious Incident and Bill Nighy in Skylight.  (Stephen Boyer is fantastic in a dual performance as a teenager and his demonic hand puppet in Hand to God, but his time has not yet come.)  Once again, painfully, Skylight’s competition squeaks by.  I wrote in my review of Curious Incident, “In this still-young season [Mr. Sharp] is a shoo-in for the Best Actor in a Play Tony—I cannot imagine a performance that might surpass his.”  I am beginning to seem almost prescient.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role in a Play

In many ways, this choice is tougher, as it includes one performance I missed (Ruth Wilson in Constellations) and one I’ve yet to see (Helen Mirren in The Audience).  That being said, I’d be less than surprised if Dame Helen walked away with the Tony, but going off what I’ve seen it’s only fair to award my fictional version to Carey Mulligan in Skylight.  (Finally, a victory for this splendid production!)  Ms. Mulligan is a live wire in the play, but doesn’t use pure energy as a substitute for dramatic talent (like some other actors I could mention).  She is a beacon of stability, almost comforting in her own comfort onstage.

Best Actor in a Leading Role in a Musical

Maybe I flatter myself, but I imagine this pick will generate at least some controversy.  I’m (evidently) one of the few who adored Ken Watanabe in The King and I.  His was one of the few true actorly turns in a musical this year—he put just as much of his energy and methodic ability into playing the King of Siam as he did into his celebrated work as Hamlet in Japan.  For me, he ekes his way past the competition by being more interesting than the blow-your-mind song and dance men (Robert Fairchild in An American in Paris and Tony Yazbeck in On the Town) and a better dramatic actor than the traditional charismatic Broadway leads (Brian d’Arcy James in Something Rotten and Michael Cerveris in Fun Home).  So saying, this is probably the strongest all-around category, and I’d be satisfied with a win from any of these enormously talented men.

Best Actress in a Leading Role in a Musical

A few samples from my review of The King and I: “It is asking too much to imagine any better Anna Leonowens than Kelli O’Hara.”  “[She] has with this production proved herself definitively the best musical stage actress since Julie Andrews.”  “Too damned talented for words.”  “A singer and actress of astounding talent.”  “The stage glows gold wherever she steps.”  I may have gone a little overboard.  You get the point.  The Tony goes to Kelli O’Hara.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Featured Role in a Play

Matthew Beard, Skylight.  His manic mobile intelligence as an actor dominates the stage, plus he’s really the only game in town in this category.  This season, we were gifted with a beautifully loathsome performance by Kiernan Culkin as the drug dealer we loved to hate in This is Our Youth, but nominated instead is the talentless newcomer Micah Stock in the schlocky It’s Only a Play.  This is what quantity over quality gets you.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Featured Role in a Play

Director Scott Ellis’ You Can’t Take it With You was probably the purest, happiest play on Broadway this season, and no one exemplified its batty optimism more than Annaleigh Ashford as the confectioner and wannabe ballerina Essie Sycamore.  No comic performance on Broadway this season utilized movement more intelligently (except perhaps Kristen Chenoweth in On the 20^th Century, also directed by Mr. Ellis).  It would be a relief to see comedy given its due in a category split between laughs and dour dramatic performances.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Featured Role in a Musical

This category is made up mostly actors punching either slightly or significantly below their weight.  Two nominations each went to Something Rotten and An American in Paris, rightly, since each has a large and talented ensemble cast.  In terms of talent and joy in performance, the award should go to the latter musical, and since I won’t dignify the character played by Brandon Uranowitz (a ‘50s-era caricature of a Jew) with a response, the faux-Tony goes to Max von Essen as the French aspiring showman Henri Baurel.  “I’ll Build a Stairway to Paradise” is a difficult centerpiece number to inherit, especially from Georges Guétary.  Mr. von Essen nails it.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Featured Role in a Musical

With three extraordinarily talented Fun Home actresses (two playing the same character) are nominated in one category, votes are bound to split.  But, to venture off the beaten track in terms of critical applause, I’ll pick Emily Skeggs (Middle Alison) over Sydney Lucas (Small Alison), who won the Obie.  Ms. Lucas is a singer of astounding talent considering her age, but her performance once or twice (but very infrequently) comes off as astringent, while Ms. Skeggs, at twenty-five playing eighteen, is already a full-fledged dramatic actress, who takes more advantage than any other cast member in her show of Lisa Kron’s delicious dialogue.

Best Scenic Design of a Play

Another strangely competitive category, with the work of the world’s leading scenic designer, Bob Crowley, who revolutionized scenery with last year’s Glass Menagerie revival and is nominated this year for Skylight, up against excellent work in Curious Incident and You Can’t Take it With You.  Mr. Crowley is nominated 4 times this year, but it’s David Rockwell, You Can’t Take it With You’s designer, who will really be cheated when Finn Ross and Bunny Christie win for Curious Incident.  Mr. Rockwell created a beautiful, eccentric Sycamore house unmatched in previous productions of the play—one walks out of the theater feeling they’d like to hire him as an interior designer.  But a play designed like Curious Incident comes around rarely if ever.  Describing it is a waste of time.  It only makes sense when experienced live, and even then leaves you unsure you understand the import of what you’ve just seen.  Not in recent memory has design so accurately reflected the inner thoughts of a play’s main character.

Best Scenic Design of a Musical

A face-off between a lone wolf known for dramatically imposing sets and a team that captures the feeling of an era.  Bob Crowley, Benjamin Pearcy, and Leo Warner, for An American in Paris, have replicated the sets of an MGM soundstage so perfectly they could fool Arthur Freed.  But Michael Yeargan, one of the troupe of collaborators employed by Bartlett Sher, has matched or exceeded his work on 2008’s South Pacific with his set for The King and I, which features an enormous mobile boat and a forty feet-deep Siamese palace that draws the audience in with the full force of the Vivian Beaumont’s proscenium.  At the very least he has made brilliant use of space, which in New York should always be worthy of some sort of award.

Best Direction of a Play

Most of the directors in this category move actors well and/or create a veritable cavalcade of them for comedic purposes (see Marianne Elliott and Scott Ellis for, respectively, Curious Incident and You Can’t Take it With You).  Stephen Daldry, however, is that rare thing—a true actors’ director.  You can feel his guidance in the brilliant performances of Ms. Mulligan, Mr. Nighy, and Mr. Beard, in something close to a ballet of hurt feelings.  His touch is gentle and unassuming.  Directors show their talent either by ostentation or restraint.  Mr. Daldry is a master of the latter.

Best Direction of a Musical

Bartlett Sher is, as I wrote upon seeing The King and I in March, “the premier re-interpreter of classic musicals… He has an unmatchable knack for bringing out the big in the great scores and stories of the Golden Age.”  This fall he will complete his Golden Age trifecta with Fiddler on the Roof, but for now he deserves recognition, as he did for South Pacific in 2008, for his indelible directorial touch on one of the great musicals of all time.  He is a powerhouse, a dynamo, a marvel.  Goddamn it, just give this man all the Tonys.

Best Choreography

In October, I wrote of Joshua Bergasse’s choreography in On the Town: “It flows like water across the Lyric’s expansive stage, filling the room with fire and force, until it finally expels the audience into the streets after two and a half glorious hours, singing and jigging as they go.”  Mr. Bergasse is a worthy successor to Jerome Robbins, and though that statement may seem something of an exaggeration for any choreographer, rest assured that this revival has lost none of the magic Mr. Robbins instilled in the production over seventy years ago, and that is partially thanks to Mr. Bergasse’s stunning work.

Craft/Technical Awards

Best Orchestrations

Christopher Austin, Don Sebesky, and Bill Elliot, An American in Paris

Best Costume Design of a Play

Jane Greenwood, You Can’t Take it With You

Best Costume Design of a Musical

Bob Crowley, An American in Paris

Best Lighting Design of a Play

Paule Constable, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

Best Lighting Design of a Musical

Natasha Katz, An American in Paris