"Viewers not inclined toward glum allegories regarding individual power and collective will are likely to be checking their watches long before the show's endless 90 minutes conclude.
Smokily illuminated by criss-crossing beams of light, production designer Santo Loquasto's dusky, tatty environs suggest a Cirque du Soleil show from hell. Led by John Selya, a seven-member dance corps enthusiastically hurls through their aerobic tasks while a five-member onstage band plows through the songs with the requisite electric bass, banjo and harmonica flavors associated with Dylan's music-making.
Sesma waggles his tongue and glowers a lot as Ahrab. Arden offers puppy dog appeal as Coyote. The heart-faced Brescia's sweet, plaintive voice sounds the best of all. They all work hard but it's not enough.
Don't be surprised if "The Times They Are A-Changin'" will be movin' out of the Atkinson fairly soon."
"What a story........ everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end." -- Birdie
[http://margochanning.broadwayworld.com/]
"The Devil Be Hittin' Me" -- Whitney
Dare I say "I told you so"? I saw it in San Diego and said it would be creamed on Broadway when many people raved about it. But maybe I myself am a jinx to a pre-broadway show (he he). All the pre-broadway shows I've seen (Lennon, Mambo Kings, Lestat, The Dancer's Life, and this) were pretty much either a flop or short lived. Drowsy Chaperone has changed my jinx though, thanks goodness.
"What a story........ everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end." -- Birdie
[http://margochanning.broadwayworld.com/]
"The Devil Be Hittin' Me" -- Whitney
"The songs of Bob Dylan do not immediately raise images of a surreal circus. Yet some of the lyrics and Dylan's liking for clown white partly justify Twyla Tharp's decision to locate "The Times They Are A-Changin'" in a Fellini-esque milieu of dynamically acrobatic clowns, ruled by a Satanic ringmaster.
The strange but fascinating extended dance myth that opened Thursday night at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre unfolds as a very different event than "Movin' Out," Tharp's take on the music of Billy Joel and the Vietnam era. Many of Joel's songs tell stories, so Tharp devised a loose narrative focusing on working-class men and their women in a hugely destructive time of war. While some of Dylan's songs chronicle American lives, many of the most famous collisions of words and music set out bardic warnings and prophesies.
Tharp's vision is sometimes more febrile than inspired, with an unfortunate and off-putting use of one dancer as Cleo's floppy-eared dog. And as the evening churns forward with one intermission, its momentum begins to flag, raising questions of where it is going, if anywhere.
At times, it seems, Tharp is conjuring with two Bob Dylans, one new and youthful, one freighted with age, as when, in "Summer Days," Ahrab sings: "The girls all say, `You're a worn out star.'" Indeed, amid the more tender songs like "Don't Think Twice" and "Lay, Lady, Lay," there are also painfully bitter reflections, as in "Desolation Row." And near the climax, as black-clad clowns circle in the darkness wielding flashlights, Sesma delivers a potent ode to impending death, "Knockin' on Heaven's Door."
Not surprisingly though, it all ends happily, as the fiendish father is overthrown and Coyote and Cleo come into their own, in a shinier, brighter circus, with Loquasto furnishing the new ringmaster with a sparkling red tailcoat. The lovers wind things up with a vainglorious hope: "May you stay / Forever young."
"The Times They Are A-Changin'" arrives on Broadway at a moment when Dylan is once again big news, with an admired new album, collections of his memoirs and essays about him, even an exhibition at the Morgan Library. But it seems unlikely that this rarefied, sometimes brilliant dance musical will duplicate the success of "Movin' On."
"What a story........ everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end." -- Birdie
[http://margochanning.broadwayworld.com/]
"The Devil Be Hittin' Me" -- Whitney
"Tharp has sure theatrical moments, but they're all too rare, and her acrobatic choreography is mostly brash, busy and obvious.
The cast consists of three actor/singers and a uniformly excellent dance ensemble. As Coyote, Arden projects sweet, boyish innocence while Brescia's Cleo sings with just the right bittersweet air.
The dominant performance is Sesma's Ahrab, hopping around like Long John Silver on speed, with leering protuberant eyes, teeth in search of an orthodontist and a manner that would do justice to a Faustian demon.
Yet after 90 surprisingly long minutes, the whole shebang - complete with terrific scenery and costumes by Santo Loquasto and imaginative lighting by Donald Holder - is a one-star concept with a two-star staging, three-star cast and four-star, if patchwork-quilted, score.
The concept - downmarket pretentiousness gone cheap - finally sinks it. Wait for the cast album."
"What a story........ everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end." -- Birdie
[http://margochanning.broadwayworld.com/]
"The Devil Be Hittin' Me" -- Whitney
I don't mind admitting that I'm enjoying this. I know it's wrong of me and I do feel for everyone who has worked so hard on this show and will soon be out of a job, but I've always loved reading justifiably bad reviews. For one, there's just something fun about seeing the critics really let loose on something that allows them to do so. Their job, after all, is to look for and point out fault. It's what they're best at, it's fun to write, and their most artful work comes out when they have a bona-fide bad show to flog. I'm also enjoying this because it just wasn't a good idea for a show and it will be better for everyone to have it cleared out quickly. Theatre space is very limited right now, and a lot of good projects are on hold because they can't secure a theatre. So the Atkinson should be free by December, and Jay Johnson is on borrowed time already (which is unfortunate)- so that's 2 nice small houses that would be ideal for the next great play Broadway needs.
And I'm one of the few who thinks Brantley is an excellent critic and fully deserving of his position. He might not fill the shoes of the giants who previously had his job, but he holds his own. I enjoy and have a respect for most of the major critics (w/ a few exceptions). Clive is my favorite, but both Brantley and that smarmy Isherwood fella know their stuff as well as anyone. Linda Winer is great if you want a more sympathetic, less vicious take on things. USA Today shouldn't even do theatre reviews, though Ms Gardner does a fine job. Michael Kuchwara is good but is NOT up to the responsibility of being the most widely-read critic in America. I like Peter Marks, did he review this show?
"The last train out of any station will not be full of nice guys." - Dr. Hunter S. Thompson
"I wash my face, then drink beer, then I weep.
Say a prayer and induce insincere self-abuse,
till I'm fast asleep"- In Trousers
I wanted to add to my previous post to Michael Bennett's comments regarding the In My Life comparison. At least the songs for In My Life were written for the theatre. Just because Dylan is a brilliant song writer does not make his songs suitable for Broadway. It is the main problem with "jukies". These songs were NOT conceived for a musical theatre piece. And as it has been pointed out in these reviews that at times it works (Mama Mia and Moving Out) because the songs have some sort of narrative drive to them. Dylan's are poetical in nature and not dramatically structured.
Well that I agree with Sueleen -- I can think of no composer whose songs are less suited to a a Broadway musical than Bob Dylan. The project was simply ill conceived on that point alone.
After watching The View segment, a friend called and asked me when Twyla Tharp turned into Debbie Allen. Not too far off, I think, judging from Rolling Stone.
I'm still trying to figure out what I actually witnessed on that stage tonight. It might just be one of the most dreadful things I have ever seen. I'm serious here...terrible.
Unfledge them of their...perriwigs, And they appear like bald-cootes, in the nest.
Beaumont, Knt. Malta, (1616).