Sorry to say I can only echo the critiques the above posters have written. If the sets, costumes, lights, staging and choreography are ALL deliberately ugly, trashy and amateur, one has to conclude this must be the very deliberate choice of director Sam Pinkleton. In a show about the glamor and gorgeousness of the art of drag, with lyrics like: "What we are is an illusion", where in God's name was the illusion, the Shalimar, the Maribou? Would one gorgeously designed wig or feminine peignoir have been too much to ask?
We grew to feel sorry for Cheyenne Jackson, who's Georges was indeed the one shining light onstage --gorgeous man, gorgeous voice, easygoing delivery-- on a stage crowded with nonstop shrieking, mugging and caterwauling. Is the script a masterpiece of nuance and subtlety? Not by a long shot. But that's no excuse for Madame Dindon to rival the worst Cagelle in overacting up a storm. And for Albin/Zaza to be treated the way Kevin Calhoun is forced to treat her is frankly a crime against one of the great ladies in the Jerry Herman canon. Why does he speak like a Tennessee hillbilly and dress like a sister-wife when he isn't done up as a drowned Grizabelda for the show numbers? Where is the love for this character which the whole story hinges on? Lose that and you've got a very bleak show.
Am I a little biased? I admit I am-- I spent most of 1982, '83 and '84 as first assistant set designer to the great David Mitchell on the OBC, 1st and 2nd National Tours. Still, there are 100 new ways to present La Cage with joy and love and respect. This production found none of them.
