There have been rousing successes. I'm thinking "Hairspray" with the original Broadway cast. I'm remembering an absolutely terrific mounting of "South Pacific" with Reba McEntire and Brian Stokes Mitchell. About twelve years ago, there was a marvelous attempt to revive "Mame" with Michele Lee.
There have been years where the results were quite bad. A threadbare edition of "Les Miserables." A truncated version of "Rent" directed by, of all people, Neil Patrick Harris. A complete miscast production of Mel Brooks' "The Producers."
And then there was this year and their confusing attempt at restaging Kander and Ebb's legendary "Chicago." It was neither good. Nor was it bad. The show simply meandered around the Bowl stage. It was like a homeless bum going from street corner to street corner, desperately looking for the handout that will never come.
Okay, this is "Chicago" and you can't really mess it up that badly. It's been around for ages. I never saw the very first Broadway rendition back in the 70s with Gwen Verdon and Chita Rivera. I did see the revival that opened in the 90s and was there the night star Ann Reinking slid on her ass right into the orchestra pit. That show is inexplicably still running as they have trotted out every B and C lister known to man into the cast. If you have yet to do your six months in the "Chicago" production on Broadway, please be patient. They will get around to you. The show runs and runs and runs solely for the benefit of Madge and Burt visiting from Oshkosh, Wisconsin and looking to see some Broadway and dine in that Olive Garden overlooking Times Square.
I'm also a big fan of the movie version that won a passel of Oscars and was surprisingly true to the Broadway show. Once again, the original work is so damn good that it's almost impossible to screw it up.
But you can forget to give it any life. And that was the big problem with the Hollywood Bowl's "Chicago." Like the senior citizen you're driving behind on Santa Monica Boulevard, it never goes beyond 25 MPH. You keep honking but it never goes any faster. You sit there in sheer frustration.
A major part of the issue goes with the creative team behind the show itself. Usually, you can count on the Bowl to bring in some real Broadway types behind the scenes. This "Chicago" gets as its director Brooke Shields.
You heard me.
Shields has made a career out of being the one who comes into a Broadway show after its original cast is long gone. Producers want to make sure Made and Burt from Oshkosh keep coming so they bring in recognizable names, regardless of whether or not they have any talent. Well, Brooke was one of those thousands who got to do the latest Broadway edition of "Chicago." That fact, however, gives her about as much credence to direct the Hollywood Bowl edition as I have. Wait, I hummed some tunes at intermission on line for the bathroom. Heck. where was my offer to stage this?
So, the Bowl brings in a mediocre actress to direct "Chicago" and Brooke, better equipped to design the La-Z-Boy furniture collection she hawks on TV, has no clue what to do. As a result, the show simply crawls out onto the Bowl stage and immediately cries out "I've fallen and I can't get up." Suddenly, you're cursing the fact that Susan Stroman opted to take a Hamptons vacation this summer.
Meanwhile, the Hollywood Bowl annual musicals usually provide producers a wonderful opportunity to pepper the shows with a veritable "Who's Who" of Hollywood. This year with "Chicago," it was more like "Who's That." I'm sure there were some members of the audience familiar with the cast. I sure as well wasn't.
In the role of Roxie Hart was one Ashlee Simpson. Okay, I admit to knowing her name but I had no clue what she's famous for. Game shows? Reality television? Homer's niece from out-of-town? Anybody?? I stopped reading People Magazine years ago and, as a result, I recognized no one in this show. As for Ashlee Whoever, she can sing a little, dance a little, and act at no discernible level. Her acting choices mainly revolved around how crooked she could make her mouth. In this production of "Chicago," I was sure that the murderous heroine was also recently a stroke victim.
Samantha Barks played Velma Kelly. Who? Well, I am told she was in the screen version of "Les Miserables." I sat in the theater for the screen version of "Les Miserables." Thanks to this blog, my name might be more recognizable than Samantha's. And all I did was open a box of Goobers.
Somebody named Stephen Moyer plays the role of lawyer Billy Flynn. Who? I am told he's big in some TV show called "True Blood." It's one of seven dozen vampire programs on cable. I'm lost. That's okay. As the sleazy attorney, Moyer offers....ahem...little bite.
The prison matron was essayed by Lucy Lawless. Oh, wait, I know her. Xena, Warrior Princess. I didn't watch that either. Meanwhile, the main perk of her performance was long, wavy hair that was obviously a wig purchased from Veronica Lake's estate liquidation. As a musical performer, I didn't love Lucy. But it would have been fun to watch her kick the shit out of the orchestra leader.
In the role of the tabloid reporter, played in the movie by Christine Baranski, we had Drew Tablak. WHO????? This part was done in drag but Tablak and the biggest thing on his resume is that he once sang in a candlelight procession at Disneyland. Of course, thinking of Baranski again, this was smart casting. Everybody thinks she's a man, too.
Finally, a familiar face. Drew Carey as the hapless Amos AHA Mr. Cellophane. Except the current game show host has lost a lot of weight and looks like he's under-nourished and ready to be adopted by Sally Struthers. Meanwhile, Drew looks completely out-of-place in this cast and reminds me of the high senior spring assembly where the faculty had to find a part for the shop teacher. When Drew Carey, straight from Plinko-land, is your biggest name, you've obviously cast this musical with an EBT card.
If this all sounds incredibly unremarkable to you, this blog entry has been a success. While the show itself was there, the energy was not. There was a lot of gyrating in skimpy clothes from the last Victoria's Secret clearance sale. But, other than those brief homages to original director Bob Fosse, this "Chicago" was indeed like none other.
It was dull.
And, so, apparently, I was wrong in an above paragraph.
You can screw up "Chicago."
Dinner last night: Assorted snacks at the Dodgers charity bowl-a-thon.
1 comment:
I saw "Chicago" in the seventies and promptly played the original cast album repeatedly because the Kander-Ebb tunes are cynical fun, a reflection of that post-Watergate era and my own native-New-Yorker snark.
I haven't touched the vinyl in decades, and that wonderful show slipped and faded into my own messy and dusty memory drawer.
Seeing the Bowl production brought it all back. I've refused, on principle, to see the movie, the principle being that Richard Gere should not be in a musical.
The Bowl's mystery cast, headed by game-show host Drew Carey, can't hold a candle to Gwen Verdon, Chita Rivera, and Jerry Orbach, Broadway pros who shined.
And the idea that Brooke Shields (??) is stepping into Bob Fosse's director shoes is just silly, laughable even by L.A. standards. I keep seeing Catherine O'Hara's devastating SCTV impression of poor, clueless Brooke.
Len had the line of the night. "When going to the theater, the three words you don't want to see are Director Brooke Shields."
What bothered me was how long-in-the-tooth many of the Bowl dancers are. Not what you want from a show that flaunts how hot and sexy it is.
I have to thank the Bowl for reminding me how good that original cast album is. It's been downloaded, and I'm back to enjoying Gwen, Chita, Jerry, and fond, long-ago memories of Broadway, Bob Fosse, and all that jazz.
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