Brantley is Negative:
"Many and exhausting are the physical activities that occupy the long hours of “The Pirate Queen,” the loud and restless musical that opened last night at the Hilton Theater.
Sword fights, frolicsome jigs, flag hoisting, rope pulling, stately processions, mincing minuets and hearty river dancing (with ship paddles, no less): such circulation-stimulating exercises occur regularly in this singing costume drama of love and patriotism on the high seas — sometimes, it seems, all at the same time.
Yet everything ultimately blurs into what feels like the aimless milling of a crowd on a carnival midway. The operating theory behind “The Pirate Queen” would appear to be taken from an appropriately ocean-themed bit of zoology: if, like a shark, it never stops moving, then it will stay alive. The optimism is misplaced."
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Grace’s journey of the heart takes place in breathless double time, and it’s often hard to tell how many years have elapsed between scenes. The special-event pageantry of Eugene Lee’s sets, Martin Pakledinaz’s costumes and Kenneth Posner’s lighting rarely clarifies the plot. And Mr. Galati’s staging tends to step on what should be breathtaking climaxes or curtain lines. (I was never sure in the death scenes when, or even if, characters had really died.)
Ms. Block works hard to give a truly felt, realistic performance, and she sings attractively in her quieter moments. (Under pressure, this Pirate Queen turns into a Celine Dion screecher.) But the production keeps undercutting her, both by haziness of focus and a slow drift toward campiness.
The show’s queen of camp is, as she should be, its Queen Elizabeth, played by Linda Balgord. (William Youmans, as her conniving courtier, gives her a run for her money with an interpretation that brings to mind Vincent Price at his snarkiest.)
Ms. Balgord, who played Norma Desmond in the national tour of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Sunset Boulevard,” appears to be continuing that performance here, which is kind of enjoyable when you’re starved for distraction.
Mr. Pakledinaz has given her an increasingly deluxe and unwieldy series of queenly gowns, which wind up being high points of visual wit — or, for that matter, of any wit. It says a lot that the most compelling question posed by this fuzzy musical is, “What will Elizabeth wear next?”
http://theater2.nytimes.com/2007/04/06/theater/reviews/06pira.html?ref=arts
"What a story........ everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end." -- Birdie
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"The Devil Be Hittin' Me" -- Whitney
Updated On: 4/5/07 at 10:24 PM