The only other production of Crazy for You that I had seen had been on PBS and I found the show rather colorless and the humor hackneyed. The old mistaken identity ploy.
I was certain that this Manhattan Concert Broadway Series production, with the 24 member New York City Chamber Orchestra and a 240 voice chorus behind it, would be much better, but I didn't know how good it would be. From the beginning, when four highly costumed chorus girls preened across the stage in elaborate costumes as Susan Stroman must have carefully directed them, the audience was wildly enthusiastic. It was like the audience had already seen the show two or three times and on cue they were cheering for it in advance, except in this case the audience hadn't seen it before. A mid first act ensemble number stopped the show cold.
I confess that I wasn't very familiar with the cast members besides Laura. But Tony Yazbeck bonded with the audience in about fifteen seconds. He has some charisma in addition to his talent in dancing and comedy, both verbal and physical. Laura was just fine and I thought a perfect fit for the role. The cast must have fed from all the energy coming from the audience. It had the chops to make the humor work, especially the physical humor. After the triumphant curtain call, and a little more Gershwin from the cast on stage, Laura brought Susan Stroman on to the stage very fittingly, This woman, if not already there, will join the pantheon of great American choreographers.
After the show, most conversations were centered on two topics:
"They put all that work into this show only to have it performed once?"
"They've got to get this on Broadway."
Some wondered how they could get Laura free if Bandstand was a hit, Others said that Tony was the key cast member and another Polly could be found.
To cap off this rather surprisingly special event, I stayed standing in my row listening to the orchestra finish up when most were on their way out. I noticed out of the corner of my eye three men coming down my row which they were using as a short cut to get to the left wall of the orchestra.
I didn't get out of their way fast enough and the man in the lead put his hands on my shoulders gently and turned me to he could get past, apologizing as he did so. That man with the bright red handkerchief in his suit pocket was Mel Brooks.
So now I have a little anecdote to bore people with for years to come.
Ugh...
