"I Am What I Am"

I was excited earlier this week to read about the 22-track La Cage Aux Folles revival CD from PS Classics, which will be released Sept. 28. It comes with an extensive booklet that includes an essay by La Cage book writer Harvey Fierstein and - most exciting - lyrics!

Until then, my iPod is happily stuck on the original Broadway cast recording, released in 1983. (Yes, I'm playing it over and over again. Oh, that full orchestra.)

This week, I also listened to a Masterworks Broadway podcast with composer Jerry Herman, who recounts breaking new ground with La Cage aux Folles:

"We knew that we were dealing with a subject that had never been attempted, a musical about about two men who loved each other and who had spent most of their lives together running a little cabaret in the south of France. And I loved the story, I loved what it had to say. I thought it was both funny and touching at the same time."

Herman also talked about writing the song that has become the heart of the musical: "I Am What I Am."

It's a powerful, empowering anthem sung by the drag performer Albin, who learns that the son he raised with his partner, Georges, doesn't want him present at a family event.

Albin is, of course, terribly hurt and "I Am What I Am," which ends the first act, is his response. What I appreciate is that it's not a plea for mere tolerance - he sings "I don't want praise, I don't want pity" but a statement about living your life openly, learning to love yourself.

George Hearn, the original Albin on Broadway, won a Tony Award for his portrayal. Herman said, "I am never not moved when I hear George Hearn's interpretation of that song."

I feel the same way.

My 2009-2010 Broadway season

Even though the Tony Awards were two months ago, I didn't wrap up my 2009-2010 Broadway season until the middle of July.

Sadly, I couldn't get to New York City in the spring, so I missed A View from the Bridge, Red and Fences. (Curse you, limited runs!)

But I made it to the short-lived revival of Brighton Beach Memoirs, I heard Angela Lansbury sing in A Little Night Music and I finally saw Wicked in all its Broadway glory, with Rondi Reed as Madame Morrible.

Looking back, the shows that made the biggest impact were ones with strong personal stories: Brighton Beach Memoirs and Superior Donuts, La Cage aux Folles and Fela!

Laurie Metcalf in Brighton Beach Memoirs, Douglas Hodge in La Cage aux Folles and Jon Michael Hill in Superior Donuts could easily have descended into stereotypes: overprotective Jewish mother, flamboyant drag performer, wisecracking young black male. But they imbued those characters with such depth and humanity that they rose above caricature and captured my heart.

La Cage aux Folles entered my pantheon of favorite musicals. I loved Jerry Herman's songs so much that I got the original Broadway cast recording, which I've been listening to nonstop. The revival CD will be released Sept. 28 and I can't wait to have both of them on my iPod.

I noticed more audience participation on Broadway this season - batting beach balls at La Cage, swiveling my hips during Fela! and missing the waxed fruit that came flying into the audience during Lend Me A Tenor. While the trend could become overdone, so far I've enjoyed it!

I also crossed five theatres off my list, making my first visits to the Gershwin, Longacre, Lunt-Fontanne, Nederlander and Schoenfeld. Only seven more to go before I've seen a show in every Broadway house.

Among the theatres I've yet to enter is the Majestic, home to The Phantom of the Opera, which I've never seen. If the sequel, Love Never Dies, comes to New York next spring perhaps I'll make it a double feature.

La Cage aux Folles

La Cage Aux Folles, at the Longacre Theatre on Broadway.
Gratuitous Violins rating: **** out of ****

While I knew the plot of La Cage aux Folles going in, until this Tony-winning Broadway revival I'd never seen the show on stage.

So Jerry Herman's unforgettable score was new. Combine that with tender, sensitive performances from Chris Hoch as Georges, owner of a St. Tropez nightclub, and Tony winner Douglas Hodge as the drag queen Albin, his life partner. Add a book by Harvey Fierstein that's humorous but never loses sight of the human element. Toss in some fun, athletic Cagelles.

What you get is a musical that captured my heart. With warmth and wit, La Cage aux Folles gets to the true meaning of family values: the love we show each other, the sacrifices we make.

In their 20 years together Georges and Albin have raised a son, Jean-Michel, the product of Georges' one-night stand. He's engaged to the daughter of the conservative Monsieur Dindon, head of the Tradition, Family and Morality Party. And when he brings his future in-laws home for dinner, he doesn't want the flamboyant Albin to be there.

Hodge, who transferred with this production from London's Menier Chocolate Factory, plays Albin as dramatic and insecure. He's an aging actor surrounded by the younger and more agile drag performers. He's a parent terribly hurt by the son he adores. The attempts to make him appear more "masculine" were funny but also heartbreaking.

Hoch, on in place of the vacationing Kelsey Grammer, was terrific. His Georges is steady and patient - a perfect counterpart and soulmate to Albin. He's wonderfully expressive: hilarious as he coaxes Albin out of his dressing room, stern as he reminds Jean-Michel of all the things Albin has done for the family. And he has a deep, beautiful singing voice.

Herman's songs illuminate the lives of these two men and their love for each other so well - an emotional "Look Over There" that Georges sings to his son, Albin's anthemic "I Am What I Am," the poignant "Song on the Sand" when Georges serenades Albin, and a stirring "The Best of Times."

There were times when I was moved to tears, including the scene at an outdoor cafe when Georges tries to hold Albin's hand, only to be warned away because someone is watching. The brief moment when they finally touch made me think about my friends who are gay and lesbian and how guarded they have to be with their affection in public.

From what I've read, this La Cage aux Folles takes place in a nightclub that's more rundown, with fewer dancers than in previous productions. It worked fine for me. I have rarely had as much fun sitting in my seat as I did when the Cagelles started tossing giant beach balls into the audience, which we swatted back onto the stage.

I liked the supporting cast, too: A.J. Shively in his Broadway debut as Jean-Michel plays a young man more misguided than mean-spirited. Robin De Jesus provided great comic relief as Jacob, the butler/maid devoted to Albin, who dreams of being a performer.

Fred Applegate was effective as the blustery, narrow-minded Monsieur Dindon. Yes, Dindon is a stereotypical bad guy but the hurtful things he says are mild in comparison with the bigotry of real-life antigay groups.

And talk about morality - contrast the way he browbeats his wife and daughter with Georges and Albin, who go through a charade, pretend to be people they're not, in order to make their son happy. When they affirm who they are, simply and with dignity, I wanted to cheer.

Last week I wrote about Grammer's absence and I questioned whether Hoch, who's younger, would be believable as Georges. Well, he won me over from the first scene until after the curtain call, when he put his arm around Hodge's waist and they walked offstage together.

All I can say is, bravo.

Forgotten Broadway

There's a great article on the Jewish culture Web site NextBook about a largely forgotten musical.

While composer Jerry Herman is well-known for his scores of Hello, Dolly! and La Cage Aux Folles, there probably aren't too many people who can recall his first musical, Milk and Honey. It opened on Broadway in October 1961 and ran for 543 performances, and was nominated for five Tony Awards.

Writer Alisa Solomon describes the plot of Milk and Honey as an upbeat comedy about a pair of middle-aged American tourists who meet in Israel and fall in love with each other and with the 13-year-old Jewish state.

Solomon writes that it was "a sweet show in the old romantic mold of The King and I or My Fair Lady, but it’s most worth remembering today for the innocent way in which it captured the naïve and celebratory foundation of many American Jews' love affair with their putative homeland."

From Solomon's description, Milk and Honey sounds a bit like the movie version of Exodus, an idealized, overly sentimental portrait of Israel. Of course, it was written during a more idealistic time, when the connection between American Jews and Israel was stronger. Still, it sounds pretty interesting on two fronts: as a piece of musical theater history and for what it says about how American Jews viewed Israel in the early 1960s - a land of strong, tanned, brave pioneers making the desert bloom.

I've listened to some short samples of some of the songs, and I have to say, they don't sound very much like Israeli music. Solomon says that "for the most part, the show favors the pop conventions of Broadway’s heyday — pleasant, melodious tunes and perky lyrics, evident in the show’s love ballads and marches and in every musical Herman would go on to write."

A CD of the Broadway score did come out, but unfortunately, it's out of print. A used copy at Amazon is selling for $144.99. That's a bit steep for nostalgia!