Back from the matinee. I'll say: the glass is decidedly half full.
To my ears, the score is mostly ravishing, so much so, I wish more of the whole piece had been composed and sung. The score falters only when Lapine over sells its lyrical points in dialog or emphatic statements designed to make sure We Get It. My biggest issue with the show lies there: its odd redundancy after so many workshops. But I hear Maury Yeston's influence far more than Sondheim, both Nine and small pieces of Titanic in particular. From me, if any body cares, high compliment, since Yeston's music is among my favorite. The title song is lovely*, but it's not the only melody that lands. I loved the rangy effort to give the three stars different stylistic lexicons, and -- a sigh of relief -- the show is pop power-ballad free. I haven't heard a new musical in months other than Six, and this one is a real score. You don't have to love it to acknowledge its thoughtfulness and musicality. Kitt had a very specific job to do here, and to me he's suceeeded: it's quite beautiful.
My gripe, echoing others, is Lapine's distrust of the audience. He seems most afraid that we won't get his concept, or the storytelling's plot thesis. Therefore, too much is handled via exposition dumps. The good news: the dumps are usually elegantly staged, so they slip by in light and shadow (haunting, all). But if only Lapine had allowed us to play catch-up in places rather than be ahead of the characters. Everything that might be subtext gets announced. By the time Claire is explaining why her daughter's trippy presence upsets her, I thought "please trust us just a little more."
Mostly, the physical production -- and I was 9th row center on TDF, sad -- makes up for a helluva lot. Two people I was with said they were so caught up in the music's elegance and stylish staging they didn't concentrate on how hamfisted the book ends up in places. I agree. I wish the score did more of the job. But now I'm redundant.
The four stars -- yes, four, I agree (Bravo, Sella) -- are superb. Yazbeck doesn't impersonate Grant, and it takes a minute to adjust, but he breaks our hearts. His performance is the surprise: we expect him to knock us out with the dancing, but he creates a closed down and locked up man who only awakens late in the show in a sequence I won't spoil. The actor who plays his younger self throughout has a challenge, and it's deeply moving. The other two are predictably terrific in individual set pieces, Haddon-Paton especially nuanced as Huxley. Cusack -- I'm a fan -- nails the music and if she sometimes seems to have a bit of Carlin Glynn's Miss Mona in her performance, it's all charming.
I'd say, unmissable for musical theater devotees. I'd like to go back after the holidays, if the show can survive what promises to be a very mixed critical reception. It needs raves; I fear it will have few if any. But I stand by my glass half full take. Can't stop thinking about it.
*the final reprise was cut for good reason: it's not where the characters end up, and romanticizes LSD past the point of the drug's usefulness in the story. It should not be in a reprise.
"I'm a comedian, but in my spare time, things bother me." Garry Shandling