Archive for May, 2009

TOTALLY F***ED

Thursday, May 14th, 2009

Well, that got your attention, I trust.

The reference, of course, is to a song title from the multi Tony Award winning musical Spring Awakening, which this week confirmed news that had been making the rounds for some time now: the West End transfer to the Novello Theatre is closing May 30 after barely two months, thereby adding this particular show to the long list of Broadway-to-London musical flops that includes City of Angels, The Full Monty, Contact, Movin’ Out, the Scott Ellis revival of She Loves Me (notwithstanding its Olivier Award sweep):  the list goes on and on.

At present, the verdict is out on the eventual West End profitability, for instance, of Broadway financial gusher, and 2009 Olivier Award winner, Jersey Boys.

Indeed, one might be better off citing those productions from New York that have crossed the Atlantic successfully: The Lion King, the revival of Chicago, Wicked, Hairspray. Caroline, or Change, hardly a Broadway world-beater in economic terms, did just fine in London, and won copious awards, but the Tony Kushner/Jeanine Tesori collaboration arrived under the state-funded protection of the National Theatre for a limited run. Left to fend for itself in the commercial marketplace, one shudders to think whether so demanding a work would have even lasted a month.

There’s a point here that extends beyond a mere naming of names, which has to do with an essential paradox of the theater culture in the U.K.: For all that London remains arguably  the leading city in the western world for classical music and opera, and offers via the annual Royal Albert Hall summertime Proms an immersion in that repertoire on an order simply unknown elsewhere,  that same acumen and avidity on matters melodic (or sometimes not), don’t translate to musical theater.

Think of it: who are the new composers from within the U.K. whose latest works excite the chatterati in the way that, say, the merits of the Next To Normal or [tos] scores are debated on Broadway chatrooms. Aside from the team of Stiles and Drewe, it’s hard to think of any — and even they have had far less commercial exposure than one might have assumed from their prominence within the industry.

Put another way, without the Sherman brothers’  leg to stand on as far as adding new songs to Mary Poppins on stage, these gifted collaborators’ shows generate scant commercial heat in the way that even Grey Gardens, say, did for some of the time in New York, however much money that production ultimately lost during its much-laureled run.

At the time Grey Gardens closed on Broadway, there was immediate talk of remounting the show in London, and Julia McKenzie was even cited as a possible English inheritor of Mary-Louise Wilson’s Tony winning role as Big Edie. But despite the investigative trawl made around various London venues by several of the musical’s creative team,  any such British premiere has yet to happen – and the failure of the arguably  far more accessible Spring Awakening won’t advance its cause.

Spring Awakening’s quick collapse is of interest, as well, given this city’s pop and rock wealth of activity, within which one might have thought the indie pop stage musical contributions of Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik might at least have counted for something. I have no idea how heavily Michael Mayer’s production was promoted to the NME/Mojo-reading crowd, but therein might have rested at least some degree of commercial salvation. Or at least rather more of a degree than one is ever likely to get from the mainstream critical contributions of, say, Quentin Letts in The Daily Mail, who helpfully informed us in his review that “I nearly parked my supper [during] some contrived gay snogging between two sticky little Herberts straight out of central casting.” Sticky, eh?

In fact, “sticky” is a good word to describe the dilemma faced by any New York musical of any degree of success that wants a London run away from the not-for-profit arena. Sure, Parade knocked ‘em dead at the Donmar a season or two ago, but that was in a venue about one quarter, or less, the size of Lincoln Center’s Vivian Beaumont Theatre, where the Jason Robert Brown musical was first seen in a separate incarnation.

Or maybe Spring Awakening’s best bet is to take a leaf from the ongoing success of Terry Johnson’s revival of La Cage Aux Folles – a sizable London flop when the show first played the Palladium during the 1980s – and wait 20 or so years, so it can be reborn at the Menier Chocolate Factory, as La Cage was, before transferring in triumph. (Either that or cast your leads off – heaven help us – reality TV.)

By that point, Aneurin Barnard (Melchior)  and  Charlotte Wakefield (Wendla) can return to the piece playing the adult authority figures. In the meantime, I wish them all exceedingly well.

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TONY TIME

Tuesday, May 5th, 2009

So, the nominations for the 63rd annual Tony nominations are now out there, and once again they speak with a distinctly British accent – as will many of the likely recipients June 7 in what may well be, and hardly for the first time, a love affair between Broadway and the theatrical motherland.

You thought Alan Ayckbourn was all but a goner on the New York stage? That, happily, is far from the case in a race that saw all but two of the cast members of twice-nominated director Matthew Warchus’s Old Vic ensemble make the shortlist – though it must be mildly amusing for the wonderful Stephen Mangan to find himself cited for featured actor when he’s on stage for the lion’s share of seven hours per three-play cycle and does, after all, portray the title character.

On the other hand, one’s heart goes out to Ben Miles and Amelia Bullmore, whose omission from the nominated ranks speaks yet again to the need for a Tony category for Best Ensemble – which might in turn have been one way of dealing with the non-nominated Ian Rickson’s Broadway ensemble of The Seagull. Let’s hope Kristin Scott Thomas isn’t wasting too much time pondering why it is that she missed out this year on both a Tony and Oscar nods, despite considerable speculation that she would come away with both. (Her Arkadina in London, of course, win the Best Actress Olivier early in 2008.)

Elsewhere, I seem to be more or less alone, which is fine by me, in my dismay at the failure of the director Simon McBurney’s All My Sons to figure even once in the nominations, the belated set-to between John Lithgow and Patrick Wilson arguably the most exciting single moment I saw on Broadway all season.  It will be interesting too see how that very production fares in Britain if and when it crosses the Atlantic, the word for now being that everyone is a game for a UK transfer except, alas, Wilson, who is about to welcome into his family a second child so quite forgivably has his hands full at home.

Looking elsewhere, I’m pleased Harriet Walter and Janet McTeer were both recognized, given that only one of Mary Stuart’s two grandes dames (Walter) walked away with an Evening Standard Theatre Award in London while both ladies lost the 2006 Olivier for best actress to Hedda Gabler’s Eve Best. That category – actress in a play – is unusual in featuring five women of very real distinction, any of whom in a lesser year could emerge triumphant.

And so much for my  powers of prophecy, which would appear  to be nil. There  I  was tipping Desire Under the Elms’s Carla Gugino to end up with the prize, and she was’t even nominated. Maybe she,  Scott Thomas, and Tovah Feldshuh can go out for a consolatory drink.  (Or,  perhaps with an eye toward next year’s Tony race, move on posthaste to Three Sisters.)

Cheers and cheers again to Zach Grenier, whose wild-haired Beethoven in 33 Variations is managed robustly, eloquently, and without an iota of scenery-chewing camp, and to absolutely everyone connected with the glorious Hair, whose surpassingly smart director, Diane Paulus, just might manage the impossible by stealing the director of a musical prize from Stephen Daldry. Unless, of course, the Billy Elliot juggernaut proves unstoppable, as would appear to be the case from the nod given David Bologna for featured actor, a nod I didn’t see predicted anywhere.

Tony nomination day is always an odd time for this New York theater animal to be back in London, where such awards increasingly count for less and less and pass generally unremarked by both the public and the mainstream press. (I heard not a single  expression of surprise, for instance, when The Norman Conquests’ Ritter was the sole member of that astonishing collective to get an Olivier nod; one feels in London that the principal surprise is being summoned to the ball to begin with.)

On the other hand, if the players seem an ocean away today, at least the plays don’t. What’s the biggest opening on the West End this week – indeed of the entire month? You guessed it: a certain Samuel Beckett benchmark text by the name of Waiting For Godot.

As for what will it be like when he arrives tomorrow night at the Haymarket, well,  watch this space.

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