I'm still flying from what a joyous evening this production of On the Town was. To hear Lenny's score played by 28 pieces and conducted with Lenny-like verve by James Moore--and sung by such a flawlessly talented cast...to have John Rando's direction land with every Comden and Green joke down to the silliest word-play and then luxuriate in the exquisite anguish of those Bernstein ballads. It's all almost too much goodness...
It was a night of one showstopper after another. I can't remember how many of the numbers got show-stopping applause: the "New York, New York" sequence, the Miss Turnstiles ballet (twice--once when the Ivy-as-winner section ended, and then again when the ballet concluded), the "Come Up to My Place" in which the performers and the projections were perfectly in sync resulting in a dazzling tour de force!), the Carried Away sequence, the gasp-inducing "Lonely Town" song/pas de deux/chorale, "I Can Cook Too," the entrancing "Lucky to Be Me" and the Times square Ballet!
I remember feeling at intermission at Barrington that I didn't want the second act to start. I wanted them to start all over again from the top of the show and do the first act a second time and THEN go on to the second act. I had never felt like that at a musical before. I felt it even more so last night.
Greatest new thing first: The a capella chorale of "Lonely Town" with Gabey onstage and members of the cast dotted around the audience, singing harmony...that was a
coup de théâtre that would make Lenny and Adolph weep with joy--and turn to Jerry Robbins and say "Why didn't YOU think of that, Mr. Genius!"
A musical with 4 ballets--how outrageous that was in 1944!--but all of Jerome Robbins's choreography was lost. So how miraculous is it that Josh Bergasse was able to mix storytelling and comedy and ballet and jazz--in EXACTLY the alchemical combination that Jerry Robbins loved to mix? The dramatic dances, the comic dances, the movements for the non-dancing actors...all pitch perfect. Generally, Robbins Purists walk away from these things muttering "Well, it's not Jerry," but I guarantee that they're all saying "Jerry would have loved this."
And the cast, my god! Tony Yazbeck is everything Lenny and Jerry dreamed about when they thought about mixing drama and dance and music and comedy--he is Lenny and Jerry's ideal triple threat, from the way he communicates exuberance to the way he sings about heartache to way he moves through the air. And what a genius move it was to cast opposite him a genuine ballet star as Ivy! Megan Fairchild's dancing is also part of that artistic dream that Lenny and Jerry shared: taking something or someone from the concert world or the opera or the ballet and mixing it in with theater. She is adorable, and the chemistry she creates with Tony during the Gabey the Great Lover ballet is possibly the most erotic theatrical scene I have ever witnessed onstage.
Each of the other four principals reaches such heights of comic genius that my laughter occasionally disturbed the tired businessman in front of me. (Sorry, mister. I couldn't stop laughing.) I loved the way Jay Armstrong Johnson's adorable Chip literally fell head over heels--literally, backflips, and several times--for Alysha Umphress's Hildy. His pratfalls and her bawdiness are exactly the kind of silly, giddy comedy that Betty and Adolph and Lenny and Jerry enjoyed and appreciated and knew had to be part of musical comedy.
As for Alysha's vocal pyrotechnics, those who knew Lenny know he loved jazz and swing and bebop. And as someone who was once challenged by Lenny to join him in Ella Fitzgerald's scat version of "Lady Be Good" (which Lenny could perform in its entirety--I could barely keep up), I can say with my own authority that Lenny would have eaten Alysha Umphress up with a serving spoon. And, oh, but Betty and Adolph would have just adored the way Elizabeth Stanley and Clyde Alves make Claire and Ozzie the dizzy, zany comedic ballast of the entire show. How Betty would have smiled at Elizabeth's dazzling combination of high notes and low comedy! And Adolph would have hissed that "Yes! YeS!" at Clyde's antics about four dozen times.
And then Elizabeth and Alysha and Clyde and Jay break our hearts with a gorgeous and simple "Some Other Time"...just the way the show is supposed to break our hearts, but maybe we're a little more shattered in this revival precisely because the comedy is so zany.
There's even more skillful comedy from the twisted Allison Guinn and the insane Stephen De Rosa and the great Michael Rupert, who has been an important part of my theatergoing life since Pippin and Falsettos.
And then there's Madame Jackie Hoffman, who long ago entered comedy heaven. She may be an acquired taste--like kishkes and schmaltz--but once tasted, all she has to do is look your way, and you burp. I mean, laugh.
But there's one real star of the show and that's the score. The moment Philip Boykin began the first notes of the first song--in a awe-inspiring bass-baritone that would have melted Lenny into a puddle--I began to sob. The score is so beautiful and so full of joy, it was written by a man who would be known soon as a genius, he was surrounded by collaborators who were friends as well and in whose talent he believed devoutly, and they all wrote a musical that spoke an eternal truth: "Unless there's love, the world's an empty place."
Updated On: 10/18/14 at 03:43 PM