The running time isn't the issue for me. The show's style from the top is often too broadly pageant-like for the Barrymore. It feels pitched to a musical barn like the Gershwin, and that's part of that distrust of the audience I mentioned in an earlier post: the creative team -- and it's apparently a big one with 3 book writers and 2 lyricists -- doesn't believe we'll fully grasp the story being told. From the top, the narrative informs us that 1863 is our historical antecedent -- the issues portrayed will surely resonate because it's also about today. At the end, this forced takeaway is hit so hard, the audience feels too carefully taught.
The Barrymore's size might've given the creative team an opportunity to take the presentational style down a notch. Late in act two, two women sit at a table and sing and it's the kind of musical theater intimacy we've been missing all night. The stage is forever teeming with dancing people -- we get it, it's a 19th century urban squeeze on these characters -- but it means everything is choreographed and morphed into tableau vivants. That set stays busy, spinning, offering new upstage entrances, yet everyone ends up down center announcing a plot turn. The show would benefit for more silence, some moments when the audience is allowed to lean forward, listen, overhear people wrestling with their crises. Instead, it's framed, stated, annotated. That's what makes the run time feel wearying: the repetition and seeming fear that we won't get it otherwise. Though some of this is baked into the overly didactic lyrics, this is most often directorial -- a missing vision that creates space for shifts in rhythm and pacing. It's regrettable that Kaufman pushes these gifted singing/dancing actors to oversell a story -- one decidedly worth telling -- that we're happy to find on our own.
"I'm a comedian, but in my spare time, things bother me." Garry Shandling
Updated On: 3/30/22 at 06:33 AM