The King to the Queen
Python comes alive; a jukebox musicals scores; Genet’s worthy script
By CHRISTPOHER BYRNE
 |
|
Joan Marcus
Veterans
of the Monty Python troupe, including Michael McGrath (kneeling) as
Patsy and Tim Curry as King Arthur, star in “Spamalot.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
If you love Monty Python, you will fall in love with “Spamalot,” no two ways about it.
The
Pythons’ inspired and intelligent silliness had me from the moment I
discovered it in the late 1970s, and I can still laugh till I cry over
such things as “Knights who say ‘Ni,” and lines like “I fart in your
general direction.”
Don’t
ask for an explanation, but I haven’t laughed as hard or as long or so
enjoyed myself with such abandon at a musical since “The Producers.”
The
two are very different, and “Spamalot” is more an extended vaudeville
than a traditional musical. It is a series of sketches lightly strung
together by a retelling of the Arthurian legend, the search for the
Holy Grail and the very grail-like quest of success on Broadway.
If
you know the movie “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” there will be
precious few surprises here, but the sheer joy of revisiting favorite
comic bits and seeing this humor brought to life with such excitement
and good humor makes this show completely irresistible from beginning
to end. The book, lyrics and music are by Eric Idle, with help on the
music by John DuPrez, and it’s everything you expect, from
inconceivably silly situations, delicious non-sequiturs and songs that
are a loving pastiche of Broadway, Vegas and pop music.
The
satire is biting but laid on gently, and everything from the baleful
syrup of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s music to gay marriage gets a swipe. It’s
all done with an unbridled sense of “nudge, nudge, wink, wink” that
lets us know they know just what’s up with all the silliness. Camelot
here is more like Excalibur, the Vegas hotel, and forests are billed as
“very expensive,” and there are projections and animation that will be
familiar to Python fans. No doubt it was expensive. It would have to be
to look so sumptuous, thanks to Tim Hatley’s sets and costumes.
The
songs are all fun, and among my favorites are “The Song that Goes Like
This,” which sends up “Phantom of the Opera,” complete with a boat and
malfunctioning light fixture; “Find Your Grail,” a Celine-esque
inspirational belt; “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” borrowed
from the Python film “The Life of Brian”; and “You Won’t Succeed on
Broadway,” which suggests that Jews are the secret to theatrical
success.
It’s
all delivered by a stellar cast under the wonderful direction of Mike
Nichols who, not surprisingly given his comedic bona fides, gets the
inherent absurdity of the whole business. Tim Curry is marvelous as
King Arthur, both ridiculous and charming, particularly when,
surrounded by a chorus, he sings, “I’m All Alone.” Hank Azaria is
dazzling in a variety of roles, and obviously having the time of his
life. His vocal tricks and comic timing are dead-on. David Hyde Pierce
is wonderful in a variety of roles as well—from the absurdly silly to
the deliciously deadpan, he can stop the show with just the raise of an
eyebrow. Christopher Sieber as Sir Galahad and in several other roles
is terrific as well.
Yet,
whenever Sara Ramirez as The Lady of the Lake is onstage, you forget
everyone else. She simply walks off with the show. A sensational
comedienne with an electrifying presence, she also stops the show with
“The Diva’s Lament,” which is pure Python—the point at which anyone who
doesn’t get it finally boils over. It’s a tour de force performance
that elevates Ms. Ramirez to the league of great Broadway comediennes.
The
laughs keep coming right through the final moment of the curtain call,
and this is a joyful, deliriously funny show that is truly the bright
side of Broadway.
Well,
I’ll be darned if they didn’t pull it off and create a fresh, lively
and thoroughly entertaining musical out of “All Shook Up.” I chose not
to say “damned,” since from sexuality to pelvis rotation, this
Elvis-inspired show is softened to a decided family-friendly level.
Nonetheless, I had a blast. And you will, too, if you ask nothing more
of this show than a rollicking good time.
There’s
nothing wrong with that. Even Shakespeare knew the value of escapist
comedy, and the show’s book writer Joe DiPietro has cleverly borrowed
from the quintessential plot borrower to create another take on the
familiar story of a stranger who comes to town and helps people
discover the joys of living. There are mistaken identities,
cross-dressing, and misdirected love—in short all the tools that from
ancient Thebes to contemporary New York have kept people rolling in the
aisles. Predictable or not, these devices have been around so long
because the work—and they still do, if you’re willing just to go with
it.
Set in
the 1950s in the Midwest, the show draws on the Elvis songbook for its
score. Unlike others of these so-called “jukebox musicals” that are all
the rage right now, the songs fit the show dramatically without seeming
forced. The only exception is “Jailhouse Rock,” which comes out of
nowhere, but the creators get a pass because it’s a great homage to the
movie, and what Elvis show could not include that song?
As
orchestrated for Broadway by Michael Gibson and Stephen Oremus, the
songs fit the musical genre very well, which is a nice surprise. An
Elvis purist might cavil, but then he or she can also stay home.
Remember, folks, this is supposed to be fun.
The
wonderfully talented cast fills the Palace Theatre with their
exuberance and charm. More than talent, though, there is a technical
proficiency in the singing and movement that’s exemplary even for
Broadway. This may be a foot-tapping good time for the audience, but
there’s a lot of hard work going on onstage.
The
principals are terrific. Cheyenne Williams as Chad the stranger is a
perfect blend of Elvis, James Dean and a runaway from a modern boy
band. His easy charm and broad comedy––particularly when he thinks he’s
fallen in love with grease monkey Natalie who becomes “Ed” to be his
buddy––are infectious. Jenn Gambatese as Natalie/Ed has a powerful
voice, great timing and a hard-edged charm that works for the role.
Mark Price is great as Dennis, the nebbish who loves Natalie and
becomes Chad’s sidekick pro tem, and Nikki M. James and Curtis Holbrook
are delightful as Lorraine and Dean. The plot requires them to find
acceptance as a mixed-race couple in the Midwest in the 1950s, which
would strain credulity were this not such a hopeful musical. Sharon
Wilkins, whom I’ve loved in everything I’ve seen her do, once again
delivers the goods as Sylvia, Lorraine’s mother. The redoubtable
Jonathan Hadary as Natalie’s father is goofily charming in his
character role, and Leah Hocking is hilarious as the woman who brings a
museum in an Airstream trailer to the town, pressing for intellectual
refinement among the populace.
The
Crayola-bright and consistently ingenious sets are by David Rockwell.
The costumes by David C. Woolard are equally dazzling. Direction by
Christopher Ashley keeps the show rocking, and the choreography by
Sergio Trujillo and Ken Roberson is smart and exciting.
This
show may not shake up the musical theater, but it rocks the house with
talent and fun for a delightful two-plus hours. Sometimes that’s just
the ticket… so go get one.
Jean
Genet’s “The Maids” is not an easy show. A ritualistic and brutal
battle of role, gender, power, self-image and love, it is an absurdist
play that asks the audience to travel into the darker and obsessive
corners of the human mind. Through the story of two maids, played here
by men, who turn on their mistress, even as they try to become her, the
play uses the hierarchy of class to dissect our darkest urges.
As
presented by The Chocolate Factory under Michele Chivu’s direction, it
is a bold, daring and risky statement, that suggests that the maids
Claire and Solange, wonderfully played by Nate Rubin and Ax Norman are
powerless over their destiny and ultimate destruction. Given Genet’s
life as an open homosexual, prostitute and thief, powerlessness over
such urges makes sense as a theme.
The
production is poetic, and if at times lacks some of the softer and
subtler elements of the script, is a challenging and ultimately
rewarding experience.
