Ain't Too Proud is so filled with wonderful performances and terrific music that it feels churlish to complain. But in the end, while I was definitely glad I saw it Saturday night, the show is unsatisfying as theater.
The book isn't just the weakest part of the show. It's a mess, a pastiche of clumsy writing, ripoffs of other jukebox musicals, and endless narration by the lead character that flattens out and detracts from what should be an exciting show business tale. Basically, it takes the Jersey Boys/Beautiful model but centers it on a single character whose central achievement seems to have been finding more talented performers, booting them out of the group if they caused too much trouble, and getting along with his bosses and songwriters. The character of Otis Williams - as opposed to the actual Williams, who performed with The Temptations a few miles away in Oakland while we watched the musical in Berkeley - is simply not very interesting. In the show, Williams tells Berry Gordy that he can write songs too, but Gordy blows him off - and that's never mentioned again. So he's not the lead singer, he's not a songwriter, he's almost middle management - at least as portrayed in the musical. This isn't Derrick Baskin's fault. He does what he can, and makes Otis as likeable and well-intentioned as possible. But bookwriter Dominque Morisseau gives him long, repetitive speeches to deliver about the importance of the group - usually cutting off or interrupting a song - and I grew weary of him.
The musical does manage to include some of the weakest parts of Jersey Boys, only to execute them worse. There's a hyped rivalry at Motown with The Supremes, which is mostly an excuse for The Supremes to sing two and a half songs and give the women in the cast something to do. There's Williams' relationship with his ex-wife and son, which we're supposed to care about but are given no reason to do. The lone highlight of this is Rashidra Scott, who gets about a minute of a song and is so good that the audience roared for almost as long. To include Williams' family life, full of touring band cliches, and not give Scott more to do feels like malpractice.
In fairness to Morisseau, it's tough to write a standard jukebox musical covering decades with a group that eventually includes 24 people. The answer, it seems, would be not to try to follow that template. The show is far more compelling when it focuses on David Ruffin, and it seems like Morisseau and director Des McAnuff are more interested in him anyway.
In the middle of the first act, Ephraim Sykes enters as Ruffin, the first replacement Temptation and a gifted lead singer, before they hit it big. He's given an eye-catching, amusing introduction, leading into the group's first big hit, "My Girl." The musical doesn't really nail the song (too many narrative interruptions) or the thrill that breakthrough must have been, as Jersey Boys did so effectively with "Sherrie." But it gets better. Sykes' Ruffin is a complete jerk - irresponsible, violent against women, so awful to deal with that the group finally votes to boot him out even though he's the star - but he's also an understandably tortured soul who puts all that into his songs.
The endless narration is finally overshadowed by a performance. Sykes steals the show during a run of songs at the end of the first act that is both thrilling and sad. That stretch of the show is easily its strongest, and left me wanting more. Sykes' Ruffin returns occasionally during the second act, including a hilarious - and apparently true - story about something that happens after he was kicked out of the band. He's compelling and passionate.
The show touches on some interesting themes, including The Temptations' successful bid to appeal to white audiences that illustrated the limits of the power of music to bring people together during the racial tensions of the 1960s. But the musical is always in a hurry, restlessly letting Williams tell the audience what happened next without allowing them to get to know the other Temptations all that well. The lone exception is Jared Joseph's Melvin Franklin, who gets off a number of funny lines and was close to Williams. But they all have moments - just not enough to leave a distinct impression as characters, as opposed to performers.
One big failure with Ain't Too Proud is that it succeeds neither as tragedy nor triumph. The Ruffin material comes the closest, as tragedy, but this is ultimately not his story. And the sad parts in the second act left me unmoved, as it uses more "and then this happened" narrative to wrap things up. The show portrays the group's chart-topping hits and longevity as a victory for the band as a collective entity, which is certainly true, but it often fails to set up the band's successes in dramatic fashion. The musical just sort of muddles and narrates its way to the end.
For all of my criticisms, there's one thing Ain't Too Proud has that other jukebox musicals I have seen do not: spectacular, precision dance. The sheer energy and vitality of the performances is top-notch. Choreographer Sergio Trujillo has done great work here, and the performers' work is a joy to watch. For that reason alone, the show is worth seeing.
That leaves me wondering about its Broadway fate. The show is not as well-crafted as Jersey Boys, or even Beautiful (which I didn't love, but has the advantage of telling the story of a creative woman finding her own voice). The performances, Temptations music, and Trujillo choreography might be enough to overcome all of that. But if I were the producers, I would use the opportunity of a pre-Broadway delay to rethink the way the story is presented. I don't think Ain't Too Proud will be a major success as a cookie-cutter jukebox show.
Updated On: 11/10/17 at 06:10 PM