Into the Woods

Into the Woods, at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park
Gratuitous Violins rating: ***1/2 out of ****

For me Into the Woods was more than a show, it was a practically 24-hour experience that I can't judge solely by what I saw onstage.

From 5:30 a.m., when I got to Central Park to stand in line for a free ticket, until the curtain call shortly after 11 that night at the Delacorte Theater, it turned out to be one of my most memorable New York City days ever.

Initially, I wasn't enthusiastic about getting up before dawn but my friend Tapeworthy assured me that it would be fun. And you know what, he was right. I couldn't have asked for a better first visit to the Public Theater's Shakespeare Sondheim in the Park.

I spent seven hours watching the park come alive on a sunny Friday morning. I was with wonderful friends I've met through theatergoing. We had breakfast and lunch delivered. I ended up with a front-row seat. And despite my obsessive worrying, not one drop of rain fell.

I'll admit that Into the Woods isn't my favorite Stephen Sondheim musical. It's about 3 hours and near the end, I was feeling the length. There's a lot going on in James Lapine's book of overlapping fairy tales - a baker and his wife, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, Jack and the Beanstalk, and maybe some others I missed. I think some of the deeper meaning went by me.

This production, which originated at London's Regent's Park, uses a child narrator instead of an adult. But because I didn't know any better, I just assumed the role was supposed to be a child's. I imagined this young boy having problems at home and he's run away. He ends up lost in the woods and has this dream/nightmare that's a mishmash of stories he's been told.

I was thrilled by the magical elements: the Witch's transformation, the Giant, voiced by Glenn Close, appearing in a corner of the sky, the sprouting beanstalks. I liked the multi-tiered treehouse set designed by John Lee Beatty that blended in with the park's natural woods. Although I can see where it wouldn't be nearly as much fun if you were sitting off to the side or to the back.

I attended the third preview, so I realize that things were still jelling. But I thought Denis O'Hare and Amy Adams were sweet the Baker and his Wife. Their quest for a child was touching. Although Adams, whose film work I've loved, didn't make as big an impression onstage as I'd hoped. Donna Murphy was a great menacing presence as the Witch.

But four performances really stood out for me.

Sarah Stiles as Little Red Riding Hood and Ivan Hernandez as the Wolf were sexy and hilarious. As Cinderella, Jessie Mueller had such a gorgeous voice, especially in "No One Is Alone," that I wish she'd had a bigger role. And Gideon Glick was so endearing as Jack. I loved his "Giants in the Sky."

My favorite part of Into the Woods was simply being in Central Park at night for the first time.

I don't think I've ever seen any theatre outdoors before and it was lovely. You don't feel like you're in a crowded, concrete island of 1.6 million people but out in the woods somewhere. I always want to be transported by what I see onstage but this took it to a whole different level. (My only criticism: I wish there had been better lighting outside the theater when we left.)

Maybe if I'd spent $150 to see the show on Broadway I might feel differently. And honestly, I'm not sure there's a big Broadway audience for this unless it has a big Hollywood star. Despite the subject matter, it's not for kids. But the day was so perfect - a terrific introduction to a now 50-year-old New York City summertime tradition.

In short, it was the kind of day the late Joseph Papp, founder of the Public Theater and Shakespeare in the Park, might have had in mind when he said, "Part of the spiritual life of the city is its art."

Follies

Follies, at Broadway's Marquis Theatre
Gratuitous Violins rating: **** out of ****

Because my opportunities to get to New York City are limited, I almost skipped the Broadway revival of Follies. I'd seen a fine version at Boston's Lyric Stage in 2008 and I rarely revisit a show. I figure been there, done that.

And while I like Follies, it's not my favorite Stephen Sondheim musical. It tells the story of former showgirls who return for a reunion in their old theatre just before it's demolished. While some are happy, others express regrets at how their lives have turned out compared with the dreams they harbored in their youth. That's a subject which hits a little too close to home.

But I'm so glad I gave it another chance. This is a production that speaks honestly - with humor and pain and poignancy - about what happens as we grow older.

While Follies is my fourth Sondheim musical, it's the first one I've seen with a full orchestra. And it really does make a difference. I mean, 28 musicians, that's almost a symphony. (Including 2 chellos. I didn't even know the plural of cello was celli!) They sounded so lush and gorgeous.

The Marquis Theatre is one of Broadway's newest houses but the designers - Derek McLane's set, Gregg Barnes' costumes and Natasha Katz's lighting - combine to give the appearance that Follies is taking place in a crumbling, eerie space. It was moody and ghostly and perfect.

Along with the theatre, these women are also in transition - their marriages are troubled, their children have grown up and left home. They're not as sprightly as they used to be. They're shadowed by younger actors, reminders of their former selves.

One of the things I love about Follies is watching the showgirls perform their routines from 30 years earlier. What endearing women with interesting stories, ones that they don't often get a chance to tell onstage, in movies or on TV. Some of the poignancy comes from knowing their real-life background: opera singer Rosalind Elias making her Broadway debut at 82!

It was so moving to see them parade onstage, just like the old days, in "Beautiful Girls." I loved Terri White's Stella Deems leading the troupe in "Who's that Woman?", Jayne Houdyshell's Hattie Walker belting "Broadway Baby" and Florence Lacey's film star Carlotta Campion proclaiming "I'm Still Here," with all of the witty historic and cultural references.

But the two most memorable performances were Bernadette Peters as Sally Durant Plummer and Jan Maxwell as Phyllis Rogers Stone, roommates as Follies girls who've drifted apart. Sally is married to Danny Burstein's affable salesman Buddy and lives in Phoenix. Phyllis, married to Ron Raines' distinguished-looking Ben, a former politician, lives in New York City.

This was my first time seeing Maxwell in a musical and she is the absolute definition of a triple threat. Watching her sing and dance through "The Story of Lucy and Jessie" was exhilarating. It was only about a week after she was hit by a car crossing a street in Times Square. She's simply remarkable.

I'd only seen Peters on TV and in the movies, so seeing her onstage was thrilling. As a deeply unhappy and mentally unbalanced woman, who feels her life is falling apart, she was heartbreaking. I was riveted by her rendition of "Losing My Mind."

What I've really come to appreciate about Follies is that it's a musical for anyone who loves thoughtful and original work. The themes are timeless and it's the kind of show that reveals new layers every time you see it. This was my final show of 2011 and what a great way to cap a year of theatergoing.

Stephen Sondheim's Company with the New York Philharmonic

I saw Stephen Sondheim's Company with the New York Philharmonic last night and unlike my two previous theatre at the movies outings, this one went off without a hitch. The screening started on time, ended on time, the sound was perfect - and I really enjoyed it.

The only thing missing, in my opinion, was an intermission. The 20-second pause after the 90-minute first act wasn't enough. The movie theatre seats were pretty comfy but still, after a while you need a break.

I missed the 2007 Broadway revival with Raul Esparza in the theatre but I saw it on PBS. Honestly, it didn't really stick with me. I remember there were parts where I laughed but overall, the musical seemed kind of somber. (As I recall, the set was dark and everyone was dressed in black.)

This time, Company in concert was lighter and much funnier. And I got into the songs a lot more. I loved the second-act opener "Side By Side By Side / What Would We Do Without You," a chorus line-like song-and-dance number. (The cast performed it on the Tony Awards and you can watch it here.)

Neil Patrick Harris plays the commitment-phobic Robert, whose friends are all trying to get him to settle down and get married, just as their own marriages are in various states of collapse. Harris didn't display the same depth as Esparza, especially in "Being Alive," but he's got a sweet, clear voice. In the close-ups I could see his larynx and neck muscles working hard.

Martha Plimpton and Stephen Colbert were hilarious as husband and wife. They're terrific comedic actors, handling the bickering and the physical humor equally well. It was great to see Christina Hendricks, the bold and sexy office manager Joan in Mad Men, play a flighty and sexy airline stewardess. Anika Noni Rose was a revelation as Marta, one of Bobby's girlfriends. What a powerful voice in "Another Hundred People."

Well, I could go on. Patti LuPone's alcohol-drenched "The Ladies Who Lunch" was terrific. Overall, it was a great 2 1/2 hours and it definitely made me want to go out and get a cast recording. There are several more dates for Company at the movies, so check your local listings!

Lowering the curtain on 2010

All the reviews have been written and the curtain has dropped on my year of living theatrically, 2010 edition.

Unfortunately, it was not a record-setting year. I saw fewer shows than I did in 2009, since I wasn't able to get to New York in the spring and I didn't make it to Boston at all. But it's quality not quantity, right? And I still saw a lot of memorable theatre.

Before I get to the highlights in an upcoming post, a few odds and ends:

I checked two more Broadway theatres off my list: the Longacre and the Cort. There are only six left that I've yet to step inside: Ambassador, American Airlines, August Wilson, Golden, Majestic and Sondheim. The Longacre reopened in 2008 after a two-year, $12-million renovation by the Shuberts, and it's beautiful. The Cort, well, I hope it's next on the list for a facelift. And speaking of the Sondheim, when are they going to dot the i? Has anyone else noticed that it's still missing?

Among the seat-selection lessons I learned this year: just because the front row in a particular theatre is fine for one play, that doesn't mean it'll be fine for another play. I sat in the front row at the Friedman for The Royal Family and it was perfect. But I was a little too close for The Pitmen Painters. The stage seemed to be higher and deeper. I never realized the dimensions could change that dramatically!

Another question: Does the director ever sit in the audience to make sure everyone can see from every vantage point? A row of speakers blocked my view of the actors' feet in Xanadu. Not good in a musical with roller-skating dancers. A chair blocked my view for a couple of scenes in The Pitmen Painters and a piece of the set that popped up from the stage did the same during Act II of A Free Man of Color at the Beaumont. (To be fair, I had changed my seat at intermission, moving down to an empty spot in the front row. There's no leg room in the Beaumont, even in the orchestra.)

As always, I had many wonderful stage-door experiences. Among them: Saycon Sengbloh of Fela! graciously took me onstage at the O'Neill.

I tracked down Tony winner Douglas Hodge in a bar after La Cage aux Folles and he was great, taking a few minutes to talk to me and sign my Playbill. I consider that one of my more intrepid stage-door adventures.

I met Michael Shannon from Mistakes Were Made at the Barrow Street Theatre. He was so nice, asking me where I was from, how I travel to New York and what other shows I was seeing. He asked me my name so he could personally inscribe my program. (I think I startled him because "Esther" is his character's secretary in the play). And he even drew a little smiley face for me!

Another first: I met a playwright! David Hirson was at the stage door at La Bete, a work I really loved and I got to tell him so. I also had the opportunity to renew my acquaintance with David Hyde Pierce. I told him how much I enjoyed him in Curtains and he showed me that he was wearing the show jacket from the musical - which I thought was sweet in a theatre geek kind of way.

By far the rudest audience behavior I witnessed this year was at Trust, at the Second Stage Theatre off-Broadway.

I was in the third row and at the beginning of Act II, a woman sitting on the aisle snapped a couple of pictures of Zach Braff. It was so brazen, as well as rude and dangerous to the actors. It's a small theatre, too, 327 seats. So it's not like no one would notice.

I'm pretty sure that if she'd waited until after the play, he would have posed for a picture with her.

Sondheim tonight!

Broadway's Henry Miller's Theatre officially becomes the Stephen Sondheim Theatre this evening with the lighting of the marquee on 43rd Street.

A group of Sondheim devotees made the renaming possible with a donation to the Roundabout Theatre Company, which operates the venue, in honor of the composer's 80th birthday.

Unfortunately, I can't be there for the ceremony but as a fan, I'd like to add my congratulations on this long-overdue recognition. I can't wait to see my first show at the Sondheim.

I have many favorite Sondheim songs and musicals but I'm very partial to Sweeney Todd and I love the clever wordplay in "A Little Priest." Despite the grim subject matter, I can't help but smile at Mr. Sondheim's wit.

Send in Krusty the Clown

Now that the Los Angeles Times and the New York Times have weighed in, here's one of my favorite "Send in the Clowns," courtesy of The Simpsons.

Maybe this isn't the best version of the song ever recorded and maybe Krusty does play fast and loose with Stephen Sondheim's lyrics but in its favor, it does feature an actual clown.

The Stephen Sondheim Theatre

It's so easy to get cynical about Broadway as an over-produced and overpriced theme park or a vehicle for star turns. Then something happens that makes the cynicism melt away.

I'm thrilled that Broadway's restored Henry Miller's Theatre will be renamed the Stephen Sondheim Theatre, as a gift to the composer on his 80th birthday. (The picture is a preliminary artist's rendition of the marquee. How elegant!)

But even more thrilling was seeing these photos when it was announced from the stage of Studio 54, after a performance of the musical revue Sondheim on Sondheim.

It's clear that Mr. Sondheim, surrounded by the cast and his frequent collaborators John Weidman and James Lapine, was surprised and delighted and overcome with emotion.

Kudos to the small group of "Stephen Sondheim devotees" who made a generous donation to the Musical Production Fund of the Roundabout Theatre Company, which operates the Henry Miller's.

Now the ball is in the court of Roundabout's artistic director Todd Haimes to make the opening production at the Sondheim Theatre something memorable. Personally, I'd love to see a revival of Merrily We Roll Along - with a full orchestra, please.

Happy Birthday Stephen Sondheim

I'd like to wish a very happy birthday to composer, mystery buff and puzzle designer Stephen J. Sondheim, who turns 80 years old today. (You can sign a birthday book here.)

Of course I was aware of Mr. Sondheim's importance to musical theatre long before I started going to the theatre. But my first real introduction came from listening to him and seeing clips from his shows in the PBS documentary Broadway: The American Musical in 2006.

Since then, I've been working my way through the Sondheim catalog: Gypsy, West Side Story and A Little Night Music on Broadway; Road Show off Broadway at the Public Theater; and in Boston, the Sweeney Todd tour and the Lyric Stage production of Follies.

I've watched Company, Sunday in the Park with George and Into the Woods on dvd and I've listened to scores of musicals I haven't seen - Assassins and Merrily We Roll Along.

If I had to pick a favorite Sondheim musical it would be Sweeney Todd. Despite my oft-stated squeamishness, I love the setting in seedy, industrial 19th-century London, the themes of class division, injustice and the desire for revenge, and the score's mix of humor and poignancy. The movie with Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter may have its fans but my favorite is the stage version with George Hearn as the vengeful barber and Angela Lansbury as the demented piemaker Mrs. Lovett, which is available on dvd.

I'm by no means an expert on the man or his music but what I appreciate about Sondheim is that he tackles meaty subjects.

I think of Follies as an examination of what happens as we age, how we look back at our youthful dreams with nostalgia and a twinge of regret; Road Show about our ability as Americans to remake ourselves and our desire to get rich quick; Assassins about our obsession with fame and guns; Sunday in the Park with George about the creative process.

Here are two quotes from Craig Zadan's wonderfully detailed book Sondheim & Co. that go a long way toward summing up how I feel:

From the late choreographer Michael Bennett - "There are still composers in the theater who are thinking about writing hit songs, but Steve writes for character all the time. Steve, of all the composers I've worked with, understands more about the musical theater than anyone."

And from former New York magazine critic Alan Rich - "It's not such a bad thing, now, is it - being treated in the theater as if you just might be a grownup with a grownup's intelligence? Thank you, Steve Sondheim, above all for that."


Update: What a perfect birthday present - a Broadway theatre! The restored Henry Miller's Theatre on West 43rd Street will be renamed the Stephen Sondheim. Here's a preliminary artist's rendition of the marquee. Hey Roundabout, how about a revival of Merrily We Roll Along as the first show?

Sondheim, Broderick speak out

Two interesting theatre-related stories:

First, there's an interview in The New York Times with Stephen Sondheim in which he discusses the trend of producing his work with small orchestras, notably the current Broadway revival of A Little Night Music.

Sondheim admits that a part of him misses “the big swells from larger orchestras.” Still, he sounds philosophical. “I’m just pleased that somebody wants to do it, and that it gets a chance to be seen again, especially since some of these shows had very limited runs the very first time out."

I love the sound of a big orchestra as much as the next person but as someone who'd never seen a production of A Little Night Music before, I was captivated. Maybe I don't know what I'm missing but I'd rather see it with a small orchestra than never see it at all.

(Sondheim also did an hourlong interview with the American Theatre Wing's Downstage Center program, which I'm eager to hear.)

Two of my favorite plays of the fall, Tracy Letts' Superior Donuts and the revival of Neil Simon's Brighton Beach Memoirs, didn't get the runs I think they deserved. So this New York Post interview with Matthew Broderick struck a nerve.

"That Brighton Beach Memoirs didn’t run longer frightened a lot of people. It got good reviews, and that’s what was even scarier. Our play [The Starry Messenger] got really good reviews, and we’re having trouble moving to Broadway. I don’t think we will. I guess people want a really sure bet when they spend money on a ticket. With limited funds to go around, I guess they say, “I’ll see Phantom.''

What Broderick says isn't new but that doesn't make it any less sad.

It's interesting that two of the most highly anticipated Broadway plays this spring are contemporary American dramas penned by non-Americans: A Behanding in Spokane by Irishman Martin McDonagh; and Enron by Lucy Prebble, who's British.

On the other hand, I am looking forward to Next Fall by American playwright Geoffrey Nauffts, which received good reviews off-Broadway and begins previews next month at the Helen Hayes Theatre.

A Little Night Music

Gratuitous Violins rating: ***1/2 out of ****

Except for "Send in the Clowns," I went into the Broadway revival of Stephen Sondheim's A Little Night Music with pretty much a blank slate.

How blank?

I panicked when I saw an unfamiliar name listed for the role of Fredrika Armfeldt on the understudy board at the Walter Kerr Theatre. I was afraid that meant either Angela Lansbury or Catherine Zeta-Jones was out.

Not to worry. The entire cast was in and the role of Fredrika, granddaughter to Lansbury's Madame Armfeldt and daughter to Zeta-Jones' Desiree Armfeldt, is alternated by two young actresses.

My ignorance meant that I didn't have any preconceived ideas about how A Little Night Music should look or sound or how the characters should behave. I only wanted what I hope for every time I go to the theatre - to be entertained, to be moved. And I was captivated.

First of all, it's an absorbing, romantic story of how we all yearn for love - from youth to old age, from a nobleman to a maid.

The characters are involved in various romantic entanglements in turn of the 20th century Sweden, which culminate in a weekend at a country house. The waltzes, the singers who shadow the main characters and the subdued lighting by Hartley T.A. Kemp give the musical a dreamlike, fairy tale quality.

The book, by Hugh Wheeler and based on the 1955 Ingmar Bergman film Smiles of a Summer Night, offers a look at love in its different stages - from the clumsy inexperience of youth to the reminiscences and regrets as we get older. The characters are so interesting and very funny - there's much more humor than I thought there would be in a musical based on a Bergman film.

Oscar winner Zeta-Jones, making her Broadway debut as actress Desiree, is beautiful - actually beyond beautiful, she's radiant. You can't take your eyes off her, yet she doesn't overpower any of her fellow actors. And she looks like she's having a great time.

Desiree is still a star, still able to attract men, but you get the sense something's missing from her life. She's warm and vibrant and so loving with her daughter, played at the performance I saw by the very sweet Keaton Whittaker.

This production has a seven-piece orchestra, and I can't say how A Little Night Music would sound with more musicians. But it was was exciting to hear the first strains of "Send in the Clowns." Zeta-Jones sings it in a way that's a lament: poignant and fits perfectly with the story.

Lansbury is wonderful as Madame Armfeldt, stern, wise and regal, who doesn't quite approve of her daughter or how things are done today. She takes charge of Fredrika while Desiree is touring. I could almost envision the musical as a grandmother's story to her granddaughter. (Ok, admittedly some things you probably wouldn't tell a a preteen girl.)

And what an absolute thrill to hear Lansbury sing, practically in front of me from my third-row orchestra seat. I was literally holding my breath during "Liaisons," in which she recounts some of her past relationships. This is my third time seeing her on Broadway but the first time I've heard her sing and it was an unforgettable experience.

I also enjoyed Englishman Alexander Hanson as lawyer Frederick Egerman, a gentle widower who may have made a mistake in taking a very young bride; Aaron Lazar as the self-important, womanizing officer Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm and Erin Davie as Charlotte, his long-suffering and conniving wife.

Newcomers Ramona Mallory and Hunter Ryan Herdlicka are Anne and Henrik, Frederick's wife and his son from his first marriage. Their performances are a bit over the top but accentuate their youthfulness, and I thought they were fun to watch. Herdlicka is hilarious as a lovesick seminary student. And Mallory is so bubbly as Anne, still a child despite her marriage.

And the score - gorgeous and witty and complex. It was fun thinking about connections to other Sondheim musicals. The group of singers and some of the songs reminded me of Sweeney Todd - not the lyrics themselves but the way they were styled, their rhythm.

A Little Night Music opened on Broadway in 1973, won the Tony for Best Musical and ran for 18 months. From what others have written, I gather that was a more lavish production in terms of the set and costumes and orchestration.

The revival, directed by Trevor Nunn, has a bare-bones set by David Farley to go along with its bare-bones orchestra. It originated at London's Menier Chocolate Factory, although the only holdover in the cast is Hanson. The Menier also has fewer than 200 seats and my guess is it played very differently in that setting.

Personally, I thought the set design and costumes, also by Farley, were fine. Neither seemed out of place for the time. My biggest concern was that I'd heard it had a nearly three-hour running time. But the time just flew by.

I don't know how this production of A Little Night Music compares to any other. All I can say is, it was daylight when I entered the theatre, dark when I got out. I felt like I'd been transported someplace for the afternoon. And I'd go back again anytime.

I sure hope there are clowns!

I'm excited about the Broadway revival of Stephen Sondheim's A Little Night Music, with Catherine Zeta-Jones and Angela Lansbury, because, well, everybody else is excited about it!

No, seriously, while the enthusiasm of my fellow theatergoers plays a big part in my desire to see this revival, directed by Trevor Nunn, that's not the only reason.

I've seen several Sondheim musicals on stage. Two were in Boston - Sweeney Todd on tour at the Colonial Theater and Follies at the Lyric Stage. I saw Road Show at New York's Public Theater. (Not to mention West Side Story and Gypsy on Broadway.) Three others I've only seen on dvd - Company, Into the Woods and Sunday in the Park with George.

I like how Sondheim deals with weighty themes in a way that's entertaining but also makes you think: the injustice of the legal system in Sweeney Todd, the creative process in Sunday in the Park with George, what happens as we age in Follies, our ability to remake ourselves and our desire for riches in Road Show.

I know that A Little Night Music is based on the Ingmar Bergman film Smiles of a Summer Night, which I haven't seen. And it has Sondheim's most well-known song, "Send in the Clowns," which for most of my life I didn't know was from a musical.

Other than that, I don't know too much about the plot and I've tried to stay a little in the dark. Usually, I know way too much about a show before I even set foot in the theatre. I think A Little Night Music takes place in the 19th century and there might be a love story involved, and Swedes, or at least Scandinavians.

When I think about Sondheim and relationships, what comes to mind are the bickering couples in Company. Could this a more romantic side? Plus, I'll finally hear "Send in the Clowns" in context, and I'm excited about that. Are there actual clowns? I'm not sure, but there ought to be.

Previews for A Little Night Music begin at the Walter Kerr Theatre on Nov. 24 and it opens on Dec. 13.

West Side Story

Gratuitous Violins rating: *** out of ****

A promotional photo for West Side Story perfectly illustrates one of the things I love about the current Broadway revival - the gang of Jets in midair, knees bent, seemingly defying gravity. Oh, those leaping, pirouetting chorus boys!

In fact, there is so much I loved about this show.

I loved watching Jerome Robbins' acrobatic, ballet-like choreography, wonderfully reproduced by Joey McKneely. After seeing Fiddler on the Roof earlier this year and now West Side Story, I'm totally in awe of Robbins' work.

As if that weren't enough, there's the gorgeous, instantly recognizable score by Leonard Bernstein, with poignant lyrics from Stephen Sondeim in songs like "Somewhere," "One Hand, One Heart" and "Tonight."

Arthur Laurents' book so effectively turns Shakespeare's tale of star-crossed lovers into a story about rival New York City gangs the Jets and the Sharks - and the prejudice faced by the Puerto Rican Sharks.

Josefina Scaglione, a 21-year-old Argentinian opera singer, is lovely as Maria, a young woman newly arrived from Puerto Rico, eager and appealing. Tony winner Karen Olivo gives a great performance as Anita. The girlfriend of Maria's brother Bernardo (George Akram), she's a wise and strong Latina woman and so much fun to watch in "America."

On the other hand, I've liked Matt Cavenaugh in other roles but here, he seems a little too clean cut as Tony, the Polish-American former Jet who spots Maria at a dance. He and Scaglione were sweet together as lovers but I had trouble imagining that he'd ever been in a gang or would ever do anything remotely violent.

Still, I think this revival does a good job of evoking the turf battle between the Jets, led by Cody Green's Riff, and the Sharks, led by Akram's Bernardo. Okay, maybe they don't all seem like gang members but Curtis Holbrook was scarily effective as Action, one of the Jets. There's one scene where Anita ventures into the Jets' territory that's truly horrifying.

But for me, the use of some Spanish dialog and lyrics in two of the songs, translated by In the Heights composer Lin-Manuel Miranda, didn't work. They ended up being distracting and I don't really think they added anything to the experience of watching the show.

It didn't matter as much to me in "I Feel Pretty" because that's obviously a comical song and it was kind of nice to hear Scaglione sing in her native language. But in "A Boy Like That," an emotional scene between Maria and Anita, I felt like I was missing something important. Plus, no offense to Lin-Manuel Miranda, but I wanted to hear Stephen Sondheim's lyrics!

True, the English translations were printed in the Playbill but I wonder how many people read them beforehand and even if they did, remembered them. Maybe super-titles would have helped, or a mix of English and Spanish so that you'd get the gist of what the song was about.

I guess the point was to accentuate the feeling of estrangement on the part of the Puerto Rican characters, of being strangers in a strange land. Laurents told New York magazine that "the idea was to equalize the gangs" by giving the Sharks their own language.

I think in West Side Story it's important to understand what the Puerto Rican characters are up against as they make new lives for themselves in New York City - and that comes through so clearly. I don't think the Spanish was necessary.

Still, sitting in the Palace Theatre, I definitely got a sense of why West Side Story, first produced on Broadway in 1957, is such a classic musical. This was my first time seeing it on stage and there were many times when I was simply swept away by the beauty of what I was watching and hearing.

Road Show

Gratuitous Violins rating: ***1/2 out of ****

I've always said - jokingly, I assure you - that I like to see my money up on stage. But the production of Stephen Sondheim's Road Show, which opened last night at New York City's Public Theater, takes things to a whole new level.

Over the course of 90 minutes, Wilson Mizner, played by a delightfully brash Michael Cerveris, and his more low-key brother, Addison, portrayed by Alexander Gemignani, seek their fortunes in the late 19th and early 20th century United States, and around the world. The pair walk a fine line between entrepreneur and con artist as they make and lose more money than you could possibly imagine.

No, I take that back. It's actually quite easy to imagine because money - great wads of it - is everywhere in this musical. Tossed in the air with abandon, it lands in the audience or is strewn about on stage, where it rests for the remainder of the show, as if to punctuate what this is all about.

I like drama that explores the dark underbelly of American life, and the music in Road Show reminds me a bit of Sondheim's score for Assassins. If Assassins is a meditation on our propensity for violence and our desire for fame, then Road Show is about other strains in the American character - our ability to create new identities for ourselves, our desire to strike it rich and our willingness to do anything for a buck.

The real-life Mizner brothers were born in California in the 1870s and died within weeks of each other in 1933. This is my first experience with the musical about their lives, which has had various incarnations over the past decade since its beginnings as Bounce. Apparently the current version sheds some characters, drops some songs and trims the running time. But I think the essence of the story remains.

John Weidman's book opens with their death and works backward - as their dying Papa, played by William Parry urges the brothers to go out and find their own road in life. That road, of course, is supposed to lead to the American Dream of financial success.

And Road Show, under John Doyle's snappy direction, charts every twist and turn along the way - prospecting for gold in Alaska, a fireworks factory in Hong Kong, a questionable real estate venture in Florida.

If at first they fail, and they seem to fail a lot, the Mizners simply remake themselves into something else. Along the way they're partners, they quarrel and in the end, they're inseparable. If they sometimes skirt the edge of the law, their inventiveness and daring are the same qualities that built this country.

This was my first trip to the Public and I was surprised and thrilled to find that the Newman Theater is a very intimate space - about 300 seats. Doyle's scenic design is a jumble of old wooden boxes and filing cabinets that the cast sits on - and Cerveris and Gemignani do quite a bit of jumping around on during the show.

Cerveris is terrific as Wilson Mizner, the more amoral of the brothers. He's a cad and a raconteur and a rogue. I especially loved the number that charts his successes and failures in New York City, where he's toasted as the "king of Broadway." He marries a rich widow, tries his hand at playwriting and as a boxing promoter, and probably a few other things that I've forgotten. (I wish I knew the name of the song, but there was no song list in my Playbill.) All the while he pretty much ignores his brother and poor Mama, played sweetly by Alma Cuervo, who faithfully follows his comings and goings in the society pages.

While it's a less showy role, Addison is still a pretty fascinating figure and Gemignani does a great job portraying his inner conflict. At times, he goes along with his brother's schemes and at other times, he's repulsed by them. He genuinely wants to settle down to work as an architect, building grand houses for the very rich. There's a great scene showing how each matron wants her home to be flashier and bigger than her neighbor's.

Traveling to Florida by train, Addison befriends Hollis Bessemer, played with innocence and enthusiasm by Claybourne Elder. Bessemer, whose father has disowned him for dropping out of the family business, dreams of starting a colony for artists. He and Addison become partners and lovers. They have a beautiful, stirring duet: "The Best Thing That Ever Has Happened."

Still, I couldn't quite figure out whether Addison was sincere or whether he was using Bessemer for his entre to Florida's rich and powerful. I didn't sense a great deal of chemistry between them. So I wondered whether they really were the great loves of each other's lives or whether this simply was another Mizner con. I hope not, because it's such a gorgeous song.

While Road Show has some dark moments, there's a great deal of wit and humor, with some perceptive things to say about the American character and about human nature in general. The brothers' final scheme - tempting people to buy land in the new community of Boca Raton, Fla., with the promise of an enormous return on their investment - has echoes of today's subprime mortgage crisis.

When Wilson airs a radio pitch for the project, the sound design by Dan Moses Schreier makes his voice reverberate throughout the tiny auditorium. It's a deal that's too good to be true, Sondheim is telling us, but human nature being what it is, we fall for it anyway.

Follies

Gratuitous Violins rating: ***1/2 out of ****

I'm not much for reunions of the high school or college variety, but I made an exception for the reunion of former showgirls that forms the basis of Stephen Sondheim's Follies, which I saw this week in a terrific production at Boston's Lyric Stage.

One of the things I admire about Sondheim is the way his work explores some meaty themes - the creative process in Sunday in the Park with George; the injustice of the class system in Sweeney Todd; Americans' obsessions with fame and guns in Assassins. I think of Follies as an examination of what happens as we age - how we look back at our youthful dreams with nostalgia and a twinge of regret that life didn't quite turn out the way we planned.

The story revolves around a group of showgirls who were stars 30 years earlier with the musical revue Weismann's Follies (based on Ziegfeld's Follies). Now middle-aged, they gather with their spouses in 1971 for a reunion in the Broadway theatre where they once performed, which is going to be demolished and turned into a parking lot. The set design, by Janie E. Howland, isn't very elaborate, as befits a theatre that's about to be torn down. We see the circular steps where the Follies girls used walk down and a torn curtain at the back of the stage, hiding the musicians, and that's about it.

Along with the crumbling theatre, the lives of these women are also in various stages of crumbling - their marriages are troubled, their children have grown up and left home, their bodies are breaking down. As if to bring the point home even further, another group of actors plays each character as the ghost of their former, younger selves.

While each former showgirl gets a star turn, the plot focuses mainly on two couples: Phyllis Rogers Stone and her husband Ben, played by Maryann Zschau and Larry Daggett; and Sally Durant Plummer and her husband Buddy, played by Leigh Barrett and Peter A. Carey. All four do a terrific job expressing their characters' insecurities and disappointments.

Phyllis and Sally were once roommates and Buddy and Ben were once best friends, but I gather that they haven't seen each other for a very long time. It seems like they each pine for what the other has: Sally and Buddy, a traveling salesman, moved to Phoenix and raised two sons, but Sally is still in love with Ben. Phyllis and Ben, a lawyer, live a high-society life in New York City but never had the children that she wanted. It soon becomes clear that the spark has gone out of both marriages.

And one of the things I loved best about Follies is seeing the characters' younger selves on stage at the same time we see them as they are today. The actors who play the younger Phyllis, Ben, Sally and Buddy - Amy Doherty, Josh Dennis, Michele DeLuca and Phil Crumrine, - really capture the eagerness and excitement of youth and they make for a fascinating contrast. At first, I thought it would be kind of confusing but it's such an imaginative idea and I think that this production, directed by Spiro Veloudos, the Lyric's artistic director, pulls it off so well.

Sondheim packs an awful lot into his lyrics. I loved Bobbi Steinbach's movie star Carlotta Campion singing "I'm Still Here," with all of its cultural references. There's the poignancy of Ben looking back at lost opportunities in "The Road You Didn't Take." And it was so touching to see all of the former showgirls parade like they used to in the old days in "Beautiful Girls."

As a lover of big Broadway dance numbers, I was absolutely thrilled by "Who's that Woman," led by Kerry A. Dowling as Stella Deems. It was so much fun to see all of the showgirls - mirrored by their younger selves - in the same routine, choreographed by Ilyse Robbins, with wonderful flashy, skimpy costumes by Rafael Jaen that really evoked the Ziegfeld era. You know, they may not move as quickly anymore but these women still have that love of getting up on stage and performing. It's like all of their worries fade away and for a few brief moments, they're young again.

There were some aspects of Follies that I didn't like quite as much. For one thing, I think that James Goldman's book could have used a bit of tightening. The 90-minute first act didn't exactly race by. Sometimes, we spend too much time on Sally and Buddy and Phyllis and Ben. I'd have liked to hear a little more about some of the other characters.

And I have to admit that at first, I couldn't figure out what was going on with Act II, when the linear storytelling comes to an abrupt halt, and each of the main characters gets his or her own Follies-style musical number.

I really liked Sally's "Losing My Mind" and Phyllis' "The Story of Lucy and Jessie." But what was it all about? Then I realized that it was about the characters' looking back at the follies of their own lives, and it began to make more sense. Follies is the kind of show where, now that I've seen it once and I know what it's all about, I think I'd get even more out of it a second time.

The original production of Follies opened on Broadway on April 4, 1971, and played a total of 522 performances before closing on July 1, 1972. In a 1985 article about a concert version of Follies, then-New York Times drama critic Frank Rich noted that the show was considered "downbeat" and was a commercial failure on Broadway. (Although it won seven Tony Awards.)

I don't think of Follies as a downbeat show. True, it's about looking back on the past and opening old wounds and dealing with regret. So of course there's a great deal of sadness and anger. But in a way, the ending is surprisingly sweet and sentimental. It's not about regrets but about making peace with the way life has turned out.

Sweeney Todd - the movie

Roxie at Stage Left, House Right and I must have had a Vulcan mind meld last weekend, because we both watched the movie version of Sweeney Todd. Like Roxie, I really enjoyed it, despite having to shield my eyes during the more gory parts.

This was my fourth time with one of my favorite Stephen Sondheim scores. I've watched the stage version, with Angela Lansbury and George Hearn, and the concert version, with Patti LuPone, Hearn and Neil Patrick Harris, on DVD. Last fall, I saw the revival, with actors playing all the instruments, on tour in Boston.

But starting with the computer generated scenes of a dark, sooty, grimy Victorian London, the movie version is by far the creepiest, most horrific, most Dickensian Sweeney Todd I've ever seen. There's no soft-pedaling the violence the way there is on stage, where you can get by with only a hint of blood to show Sweeney dispatching his victims. In the movie, it's very much in your face. I've read that Sondheim's intention was to create a musical in the style of Grand Guignol, macabre horror stories that contain graphic violence. Well, this Sweeney certainly seems close to Sondheim's vision.

Helena Bonham Carter is fine as the demented piemaker Mrs. Lovett. I'm a big fan of Bonham Carter from those exquisite Merchant-Ivory period pieces, with their gorgeous locations and genteel characters, like A Room with a View and Howard's End. But I don't think she holds a candle to Angela Lansbury. I just think Lansbury has a wonderfully comic, daffy take on the role that makes songs like "The Worst Pies in London" and "A Little Priest" so memorable. I have to admit, I did miss the humor. There aren't many laughs in this version of Sweeney Todd.

I thought Johnny Depp brought a terrific sense of slowly boiling rage to his portrayal of the wrongly imprisoned Benjamin Barker, who transforms into the murderous and vengeful Sweeney Todd when he returns to London to find his wife dead and his daughter Johanna a ward of the amoral Judge Turpin. I think the movie kicks the evil up a notch from the stage. The close-ups of Depp make his descent into madness as the demon barber of Fleet Street seem more chilling. He gets more ruthless, his face and clothes bloodier, as the movie goes on.

I was really impressed with the choices director Tim Burton took in casting the supporting roles. I refuse to watch Borat, and I hate all of Sacha Baron Cohen's alter egos, but he was very funny in a small part as rival barber Adolfo Pirelli. Alan Rickman is so slimy as Judge Turpin that I could easily understand the revulsion that Jayne Wisener's Johanna feels after he announces his intention to marry her. Yuck! And Timothy Spall is perfect as the self-important beadle, who acts as Turpin's eyes and ears.

I thought it made perfect sense to have younger actors cast as Anthony, the sailor who falls in love with Johanna, and Tobias Ragg, the urchin Mrs. Lovett takes in. Edward Sanders is sweet and kind of cheeky as Tobias. He was 14 when the movie came out, but seems much younger. He's a little boy who looks like he should be in the cast of Oliver! but without the saccharine sweetness. Yes, 20-year-old Jamie Campbell Bower does have a somewhat androgynous look as Anthony, but I thought he brought an innocence, sweetness and puppylike eagerness to the role. I really believed that he and Johanna could have fallen in love at first sight. Other Anthonys I've seen have just seemed too mature.

My only regret is that because I didn't see Sweeney Todd in a theatre, with a big, bold surround sound, the music didn't seem quite as vital. On screen, there's so much to look at, so many special effects. It occurred to me that you could have had a perfectly good movie without the music. But on stage, from the chorus that narrates "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd" onward, the songs are so integral to telling the story. I can't imagine Sweeney Todd without them.

The best musicals I've never seen

Something that Eric at Man in Chair wrote got me thinking. He says that Sunday in the Park With George is one of his favorite scores, but he's never seen the show, something he hopes to rectify when the London revival comes to Broadway.

My passionate interest in musical theater is a pretty recent phenomenon, so I don't have a long list of original Broadway cast CDs that I've been listening to forever, hoping for the day when I could watch the show performed on stage. But I do have a list, and it's growing longer all the time.

Before last year, the CDs or albums in my collection were the soundtracks from movie musicals I watched on television as a kid, like Oklahoma, The King and I, The Sound of Music and Camelot. Or they were from movies I saw in the theater, like Cabaret, or Evita. In a few instances, they were the Broadway cast CDs from shows I saw on tour, like Les Miserables or A Chorus Line.

(Growing up, my favorite musical was that I'm pretty sure never made it to a stage anywhere, a 1968 Disney movie called The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band. set against the backrop of the presidential election of 1888. It starred John Davidson and Lesley Anne Warren, and featured songs by Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman, of Mary Poppins fame.)

What ties all this together is, I started listening to the music after seeing the show in some fashion. In fact, I can really only think of one score that I listened to long before I ever saw it on stage or in the movies, and that's Hair. I eventually saw it on tour, and I've seen the movie. (There were many others, like Evita or Gypsy, where I was certainly familiar with some of the songs, even though I'd never seen them performed).

Now, there's a growing list of CDs I have in my collection even though I may never get to see the shows on stage: Merrily We Roll Along, Company, The Lion King, (well I did see the movie, but I don't think that counts) The Wedding Singer, (that comes off the list next month!) and The Last 5 Years.

At the top of my list is Assassins, which may be my favorite Stephen Sondheim score. I mean who would ever think you could write such memorable songs about such a grim subject. It's really like a trip through 150 years of American popular music. Plus, the lyrics make some very perceptive statements about our obsession with violence and our celebrity culture.

Unfortunately, I think Assassins is one of those shows that isn't put on very often, so I'll probably never see it on stage. Although thanks to the Internet, I've seen a couple of clips from the revival.

And there are lots of other CDs I want to check out, either because I'm interested in the period in which they take place, like Caroline, or Change and Ragtime, or because I read and loved the books that they're based on, like Little Women or The Secret Garden, or because I love the cast, (anything with Audra McDonald).

I guess some scores hold up better than others if you're going to listen to them on their own, without having seen the show. Just listening to Les Miserables or Evita gives you a good sense of the story. You could simply listen to the score as a collection of beautiful songs, like The Last 5 Years, or just because they're catchy pop tunes, like The Wedding Singer. Either way, my collection is growing.

Sweeney Todd

You can't be a serious musical theater fan without a working knowledge of Stephen Sondheim, musical theater's greatest living composer. Until now, my only acquaintance with the maestro had been from afar, through watching his work on DVD or listening to Broadway cast CDs.

Of the three Sondheim shows I've seen on DVD, "Sweeney Todd," with Angela Lansbury and George Hearn in the 1979 Broadway production, is by far my favorite. I love the setting, in a seedier part of 19th-century London, the themes of class division, injustice and the desire for revenge, and the score's mixture of humor and poignancy.

So I was excited about seeing the tour of the 2005-2006 Broadway revival that starred Michael Cerveris and Patti LuPone, with the actors doubling as musicians. And I'm so glad I went. I had a great view and a great time from the mezzanine of Boston's Colonial Theatre.

David Hess plays Benjamin Barker, a barber unjustly imprisoned and exiled to Australia by Judge Turpin, who covets his wife. Upon his return, he is told his wife, Lucy, has killed herself and his daughter, Johanna, is now the judge's ward. Adopting the name Sweeney Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street vows to get his revenge.

Hess, his hair looking slightly disheveled, is convincing as a man driven mad by what he has endured. When Sweeney, reunited with the tools of his trade, sings, "these are my friends, see how they glisten," then raises his straight razor skyward and proclaims, "now my right arm is complete," he is unhinged and scary.

Judy Kaye is Mrs. Lovett, the entrepreneurial maker of meat pies who comes up with a plan for disposing of Sweeney's victims. I loved watching her prance on stage with a tuba, and she has some funny moments. But she lacked the sense of eccentricity and great Cockney accent that makes Lansbury's Tony-winning turn so memorable. Kaye's character somehow seemed less of a character. I didn't find her quite as funny - or as mad - as I thought she should have been.

One of my favorite parts of the show is when Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett sing "A Little Priest," about some of the more unsavory ingredients in the meat pies. While I enjoyed Kaye and Hess, and I did laugh, their duet seemed to lack a little of the over-the-top hilarity that I remember from watching Angela Lansbury and George Hearn. Although the Colonial Theatre audience ate it up.

I didn't get to see Benjamin Magnuson, who played the role of Anthony in the Broadway revival, but his understudy, Edwin Cahill, is great as the young sailor who befriends Sweeney and falls in love with his daughter. Cahill's Anthony is brash and full of youthful enthusiasm and recklessness. Lauren Molina, reprising her role of Johanna from the revival, is wonderful and sings beautifully. She is so sweet as the judge's ward, a teenager frightened and repulsed at the prospect of marrying him.

Keith Buterbaugh as Judge Turpin and Benjamin Eakeley as the beadle wore more modern-looking clothes that almost made it seem as if they were in a different show. Turpin, with his silver mane and nicely tailored suit, is the respectable public servant whose urbane exterior hides something sinister. And the beadle, dressed in a black suit and white tie, comes off as a thug whose purpose in life is to do the judge's bidding, lawful or not.

When Turpin caresses Johanna, telling her that he plans to marry her in order to protect her, it's a truly creepy moment. In some ways, Turpin and the beadle are scarier than Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett. (When I think about it, almost everyone in this show is a little bit mad.)

A lot of the unorthodox elements of John Doyle's production, including having the actors play instruments, worked well. In a way, the instrument seemed to fit the performer, from brassy Mrs. Lovett's tuba to Johanna's delicate, melancholy cello.

I'm more than a little squeamish, so I was a bit concerned that the show might be a little too gory for me. Luckily, I was fine. There's actually less gore in this version than in the original. And the sound and lighting effects when Sweeney does away with another victim are inspired. (Richard G. Jones designed the lighting and Dan Moses Schreier, the sound).

Doyle also is credited as the designer. I think the stripped-down set does cause the production to lose some of its connection to Victorian England. Things weren't quite as grim as I thought they should have been. But the vertical cupboard crammed with every type of knick-knack, photograph, and religious icon does evoke the cluttered, messy existance at Mrs. Lovett's meat pie shop.

I wish I'd been able to see Cerveris and LuPone in the revival (and of course, I would love to have seen Angela Lansbury in the original!) Still, I think this production of "Sweeney Todd" is a great introduction to seeing Sondheim on stage. I definitely got a sense of the menace and the humor that make this such a great piece of musical theater. And I love the score even more after hearing it live.

Sadly, there were plenty of empty seats in the theater. While the orchestra looked fairly full, the mezzanine, where I was sitting, was half empty. And there were even fewer people in the balcony. The Red Sox weren't even playing until the evening, so really what was the excuse?