Peter and the Starcatcher

Peter and the Starcatcher, at Broadway's Brooks Atkinson Theatre
Gratuitous Violins rating: ***1/2 out of ****

Sure, I like plays that weigh in on serious subjects. But every once in awhile, it's nice to balance those doses of stark reality with a touch of whimsy.

Peter and the Starcatcher, an energetic and exhilarating prequel to Peter Pan, the story of a boy who never grows up, pretty much fits the bill. The inventive stagecraft - doing a lot with a few props and actors playing multiple roles - reminded me of another show I loved, The 39 Steps.

And it's a grand adventure story: there's a ship called the Never Land that embarks a perilous voyage to a tropical island, a trunk filled with a mysterious treasure, dastardly pirates and bedraggled orphans and singing mermaids and representing her majesty Queen Victoria, a British ambassador and his precocious young daughter.

Donyale Werle's set captured the dank cramped quarters of a sailing ship in the first act and the lush green island in the second act. A giant pineapple - a symbol of hospitality - hangs in the center of the fake wooden proscenium. It gave the show an old fashioned music hall atmosphere.

What truly carried the day for me were the winning performances.

As Molly Aster, Celia Keenan-Bolger had the voice and mannerisms of a young girl down pat.  I adored her character - a spunky and determined heroine. Christian Borle, as the pirate Black Stache was hilarious, with a thick Groucho Marx mustache and a zaniness that reminded me of the best of Monty Python. Adam Chanler-Berat was so endearing as the hapless orphan boy Molly befriends. And what a treat to see Arnie Burton, from The 39 Steps, in another terrific comedic turn as the feisty governess Mrs. Bumbrake.

Unfortunately, you can have too much of a good thing. There were times when Peter and the Starcatcher, adapted by Rick Elice from the children's novel by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, felt a little overstuffed, like it was trying too hard to be clever.

I'll admit I'm not as up on my Peter Pan as I should be and the first act whizzed by so quickly that I think I missed some key plot points. Then in the second act things slowed considerably, to the point where it almost felt too slow.

Still, I may be over-thinking this. The boy sitting next to me, who couldn't have been more than 10, told me that he'd read the books and he seemed enthralled. In fact, it was great to see so many kids in the audience so clearly enjoying themselves. Sure some of the jokes aimed at adults - a Philip Glass reference for example - probably went over their heads but there were lots of laughs.

So if I missed a few things, that's fine. Peter and the Starcatcher is an entertaining ride, with the kind of imagination that reminds you what's so unique about going to the theatre.

End of the Rainbow

End of the Rainbow, at Broadway's Belasco Theatre
Gratuitous Violins rating: ** out of ****

I'm old enough to remember when The Wizard of Oz was a highly anticipated television event. Before VCRs, that was the way to see it and it only happened once a year. (Those flying monkeys still freak me out.)

As an adult, I saw Judy Garland in a couple of other movies. I knew the basics: her many marriages, her children, how she'd become hooked on drugs and alcohol and died too young. But the image planted in my brain was Dorothy Gale - a teenager in pigtails with a cute little dog, dreaming of a life beyond her Kansas farm.

So watching British actress Tracie Bennett portray Garland at the end of her life in End of the Rainbow was devastating. Bennett is delivering an amazing performance as a vulnerable, difficult woman in the throes of addiction. Unfortunately the play, by Peter Quilter, is not as good as she is. She and Garland deserve better.

End of the Rainbow takes place mainly in a room at the Ritz Hotel in London in 1968. Garland, accompanied by her fiance Mickey Deans, played by Tom Pelphrey, is poised to give a series of concerts in hopes of making another comeback. Michael Cumpsty is Anthony, a pianist who's helping her prepare and who also represents Garland's legion of gay fans.

The interaction between the three of them is wrenching. Bennett's Garland is demanding and impulsive and stubborn. Pelphrey's Deans grows more and more frustrated as he tries to ensure she's in good enough shape to sing because they desperately need the money. Cumpsty's Anthony is protective of Garland and wary of Deans' motives.

Bennett is riveting but some of the things that Quilter has her do in the play seemed over the top. We know Garland is a mess. We know she's self-destructive, that she needs alcohol and pills to help her get through a concert. Unfortunately, there's a point at which all of this becomes so degrading that it felt exploitative.

I wish the play had offered more insight into Garland's life, how she reached this point. There are a few hints in the dialogue. She mentions the pills that she and other young performers were given at MGM to help them get through a grueling filming schedule. I wanted more details like that and less dwelling on the train wreck, no matter how well Bennett portrays it.

Cumpsty is appealing as Anthony, who truly cares about her and watches what's going on with dismay. At one point Deans accuses Garland's gay fans of showering her with more adulation the  more pathetic she grows, as if they were were responsible for her decline. Maybe it was the character and not the playwright speaking but that was unfair.

The way Bennett's Garland manages to pull herself together during the concert scenes was a highlight for me. You got a glimmer of what a captivating performer she'd been, her is evident. Listening to her sing "The Trolley Song" from Meet Me in St. Louis, her youthful voice now raspy, was heartbreaking.

Judy Garland was defined by her early film roles - and perhaps trapped by them, too. I'll admit I was teary hearing "Over the Rainbow." I know there have been other child actors whose lives have ended sadly but maybe because The Wizard of Oz was part of my childhood, this one felt saddest of all.

Evita

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

Years ago, someone loaned me a VHS copy of Evita - yes, it was that long ago - and I loved it. The story was fascinating, the score was exhilarating and Antonio Banderas was so sexy.

So when a Broadway revival was announced, I was excited. This would be my chance to see Evita onstage and it would be my first Andrew Lloyd Webber musical ever. (I've never seen Phantom of the Opera or Cats or Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat or Jesus Christ Superstar.)

Of course with anticipation comes the possibility of disappointment, and for a few reasons this didn't totally turn out to be the Evita of my dreams. But hearing the music performed live and watching Eva Peron's story unfold was captivating.

I was really looking forward to Elena Roger, who garnered great reviews in London in the title role. Roger, a petite woman, is a dynamo and she brought out Evita's tenacity and ruthlessness so well. But her voice didn't seem as powerful as I'd hoped and she sounded kind of screechy on the high notes.

I liked Ricky Martin as Che, the everyman narrator. He's charming and good-looking and a great singer and dancer. Still, his character could have used more of an edge. He was less the revolutionary Che Guevara commenting sardonically on Evita's rise, which is what I'd been expecting, and more of an impartial observer.

And her story is such an interesting one.

Born out of wedlock in 1919, Eva Duarte makes her way to the Buenos Aires to become an actress, latches on to a rising Army officer, Juan Peron, played by a powerful Michael Cerveris, and becomes first lady of Argentina, only to (spoiler alert) die of cancer at age 33.

I found myself swept along by the music from Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice. Director Michael Grandage's staging and Rob Ashford's choreography told Evita's story in a way that enthralled me: her hopes and dreams in "Buenos Aires," the cynicism of "The Money Kept Rolling In" and the grief surrounding her death in "Oh What a Circus."

The scenic design by Christopher Oram is somber but it seemed appropriate. Grandage kept things moving briskly. And there were small touches that gave me a sense of Eva's character - the way she casually dismisses a suitor when she meets Peron, for example. The balcony scene, where Roger sings "Don't Cry For Me Argentina," was breathtaking.

I also like the fact that this is a complex story, not merely a fawning portrait. I got a sense of why Evita was so beloved but I didn't feel like I was being manipulated to buy into it. I wasn't sure whether she was an opportunist or someone who really cared about the poor and working class of Argentina. Maybe she was both.

It's hard to explain what makes you fall for a musical's score. But I know that each time I walked by the Marriott Marquis and heard it playing, I got tingly with excitement. After all these years of waiting and despite some flaws, I still love Evita.

President Obama's "We Shall Overcome" moment on gay marriage

President Obama finally had his "We Shall Overcome" moment today when he endorsed the right of gay and lesbian Americans to marry the person they love.

Congratulations, Mr. President. It's about time. 

Forty-seven years ago, President Lyndon Johnson addressed a joint session of Congress to introduce the Voting Rights Act. He talked about the efforts of black Americans to secure for themselves "the full blessings of American life." He said, "Their cause must be our cause, too." He even invoked the words of the civil-rights anthem, "And we shall overcome."

The president's remarks today saying that he believes same-sex couples should be able to get married were not as dramatic or momentous as Johnson's a generation earlier. Made during an interview with ABC News, they lacked the eloquence of a prepared speech.

There was no mention of repealing the odious Defense of Marriage Act. He didn't vow to fight for same-sex marriage. His deference to the states on the matter was a bit troubling. (States' rights, did that not ring a bell for anyone at the White House?)

Yet despite all of that his words, based on his own experiences and his religious convictions, sounded sincere. I like that he mentioned the Golden Rule: Treat others as you want to be treated. And they are powerful for the way they frame the debate. The president finally figured out how to use the White House as a bully pulpit.

It's practically impossible today for any straight American to say that they don't know a gay person. They are our friends, our family, our teachers, our colleagues, our loved ones, our neighbors.

As President Obama said, they are members of his staff, people in committed relationships. They are soldiers and sailors fighting on his behalf. Their children are friends with his daughters. The president of the United States made the issue personal. There are people in his life who are gay and lesbian. And he doesn't see any reason why they should not be allowed to get married.

Anyone - and by that I mean my fellow straight Americans - who cares about this country becoming a more equal place for all of its citizens has a stake in this. The president's comments don't change anything but they push homophobia and anti-gay rhetoric a little further to the fringes of American society - where they belong.

A couple of years ago, Frank Rich wrote in The New York Times that as more people have come out of the closet, we've learned about those in our lives who are gay. "It is hard to deny our own fundamental rights to those we know, admire and love."

I believe that with all of my heart. Today, I'm proud that my president believes it as well and was not hesitant to say it. Their cause must be our cause, too. That statement rings as true today as it did in 1965.

Newsies

Newsies, at Broadway's Nederlander Theatre 
Gratuitous Violins rating: ***1/2 out of ****

A plucky girl reporter and a story ripped from the pages of the history books. If the musical theatre gods came together to create a show just for me, it would be Newsies.

Unlike some of my friends, I'm a newcomer to Newsies. Until a year ago, I'd never seen the Disney movie and I'd never heard of the event on which it was based, the 1899 newsboys strike in New York City that pitted a ragtag bunch of teens against the press barons Hearst and Pulitzer. While the movie flopped, I enjoyed it.

And watching Newsies onstage was even more fun. It reminded me of the Disney musicals from the Sherman brothers that I loved as a kid: The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band and The Happiest Millionaire. Like Newsies, they combined real-life people and events with incredibly catchy songs, parts of which I could probably still sing.

Now I'll admit this a very traditional musical. It doesn't break new ground for Disney. It's not as imaginative as The Lion King or as magical as Mary Poppins. Tobin Ost's set is basically lots of scaffolding. It's not subtle, either. We don't get deep inside these characters and you don't need a road map to know where the story is heading.

What Newsies does it does with tremendous enthusiasm from beginning to end under Jeff Calhoun's direction. There's electrifying, acrobatic choreography from Christopher Gattelli, a rousing score by Alan Menken and Jack Feldman and plenty of humor amid the pointed social commentary in Harvey Fierstein's book.

How can you not love newsboys singing and dancing their way into your heart for the right to earn a living wage and bargain collectively? Newsies is at its most exciting when they're in midair, leaping and pirouetting and backflipping. I loved the ensemble numbers: "King of New York," "Seize the Day," and "Carry the Banner."

As Jack Kelly, the street-smart ringleader of the newsboys, Jeremy Jordan has a powerful voice and a 1,000-watt smile that made me smile just watching him. Kara Lindsay as the eager cub reporter Katherine is as delightful as I remembered from Little House on the Prairie at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis four years ago.

Sure, some of the portraits are broadly drawn, like John Dossett's Pulitzer, who precipitates the strike by charging the newsies more for the "papes" they hawk in order to increase his profits. And lots of critics have remarked on the similarity to Annie, subbing New York Gov. Theodore Roosevelt for his cousin Franklin.

But you're not going to Newsies for complex character studies. Sometimes there's merit in taking a traditional formula and executing it well. And in its own entertaining way, this is a thought-provoking show. It touches on corporate greed and child labor and the rights of workers to form unions, topics that are certainly in the news today.

Every once in awhile, I like to let down my cynical guard and revel in some good old-fashioned idealism.  Newsies is a testament to the thrill of song and dance but it's also a reminder of how powerful words and images can be, especially when they're used as a force for good.

Once

Once, at Broadway's Jacobs Theatre
Gratuitous Violins rating: **** out of ****

One of the reasons I love going to the theatre is that it gives me a chance to keep the outside world at bay. It's tough to lose myself completely but when it happens, I feel transported.

That once-in-awhile experience happened with the new musical Once, based on the movie of the same name that won an Academy Award for Best Original Song, for "Falling Slowly."

I've been wary of movie-to-musical adaptations but this one worked brilliantly for me. The story of an Irish street musician's chance encounter with a young Czech immigrant woman in Dublin was captivating. It felt dreamy and hilarious and poignant.

The set, designed by Bob Crowley, looks like a pub - there's a long wooden bar and old dusty mirrors lining the walls and a worn checkerboard floor. A band is playing and you can walk onstage before the show to get a drink. It's warm and cozy, the kind of place you'd go to quaff a pint on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

As "Guy" and "Girl" Steve Kazee and Cristin Milioti complement each other perfectly. Kazee is reserved and introverted, still feeling the wound of his girlfriend's departure for New York City. Milioti is just a spark plug - lively and funny and determined. And they sing beautifully, too.

Their story unfolds in a way that's so leisurely it's really refreshing. It never lags but director John Tiffany has paced things so well. Once never feels like it's in a rush to get to the next song or dance number. It takes its time.

And the onstage musicians playing violin, acoustic guitar, cello, tambourine, mandolin and accordian give Once a great folk music sound. Most of the songs are by the Oscar-winning Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova. But I especially loved an a cappella "Gold," written by Fergus O'Farrell. Gorgeous.

The book, by Irish playwright Enda Walsh, has a lot more humor than I remember from the movie. I loved the scenes in the apartment where Milioti's character lives with her fellow immigrants and at the bank where she and Kazee go, at her urging, to get a loan so that he can cut a record. Andy Taylor's bank manager, who's also a musician, is a hoot. I also appreciated how we get a sense, through Will Connolly's Andrej, of the difficulty in getting ahead in a new country.

Steven Hoggett is credited with the movement in Once and he did the same for Black Watch, also directed by Tiffany and one of the most visceral theatre experiences I've ever had. The choreography isn't flashy here but it was surprising and different, which made it delightful. And it never overpowered the story or felt out of place.

Once reminded me of another movie, The Commitments, based on the novel by Irish author Roddy Doyle, about a group of quirky Dublin musicians who form a band. The musical is a love story in a way, but it's also got that disparate characters coming together as a community vibe. It feels like you've entered their little world for 2 1/2 hours.

I can't think of the last time I've adored a new musical this much. Once is simply magical.

Death of a Salesman

Death of a Salesman, at Broadway's Barrymore Theatre
Gratuitous Violins rating: **** out of ****

I read the play in high school and a few years ago I watched a production taped for TV but until the current Broadway revival, I'd never seen Arthur Miller's 1949 Tony and Pulitzer-winner Death of a Salesman onstage.

Maybe it's because I'm inching ever closer to Willy Loman's age but this time, it really got to me. Under Mike Nichols' direction the play seemed direct and unadorned, without 21st century bells and whistles to detract from the characters or Miller's language.

Philip Seymour Hoffman's Willy has spent his working life traveling from New York City to New England, lugging his sample cases from store to store. Now in his early 60s, the driving has become too much for him but he can't afford to stop. His sons, in their early 30s, have not turned out the way he expected.

I loved Hoffman's performance. He's a very expressive actor, with a jowly face and a bit of a gut. At times, his mouth would drop open in sheer exhaustion. Then in the flashbacks he was full of energy and enthusiasm as he tossed a football with his teenage sons, boasting about his work and regaling them with stories about how well-regarded he was.

Perhaps it's because we live in a time of economic insecurity but the play also made me think how tough it must have been to retire in 1949, or if that was even possible. What did the Willy Lomans of the world do without Social Security or Medicare or a 401(k) plan?

It's the family relationships, though, that are at the heart of the play and they are wrenching. Death of a Salesman is about our dreams, our illusions, and how, over time, they can turn sour.

Sons, Biff and Happy, played by Andrew Garfield and Finn Wittrock, have turned out to be disappointments. Biff, a star high school quarterback, was destined for college but never made it. Happy is an immature womanizer stuck in a low-level job. Linda Emond, who plays Linda Loman, is distraught over her husband's decline. She's angry at her sons for not doing more to help him, for treating him poorly, and for not getting their own lives together.

Garfield seemed a bit delicate for someone who'd spent part of the past 15 years working on ranches out West. But he was very effective in the flashbacks as a teenager who believes that nothing will stand in the way of his success, then is brought down in a way that's crushing. I'm excited about seeing him as Peter Parker in the new Spider-Man movie this summer.

This revival uses the original set design, by Jo Mielziner, and music, by Alex North, two things I wouldn't have known if I hadn't read about them beforehand. I especially loved the set, with its wooden cutouts of trees, and the Lomans' neat and simple but worn home. Also, Brian MacDevitt's lighting design, which made leaves appear to be falling, was a terrific touch.

Death of a Salesman always shows up on the lists of the best American plays and I've been thinking about what makes this an "American" story. For me, it's Willy's unbridled optimism, the sense that we're defined by our jobs and the outsized role that sports plays in our society.

Willy has kind of a warped view of the American dream and what it takes to succeed in life, that popularity and affability are somehow replacements for education and hard work. I'm not sure Salesman is the greatest American play but I think Willy Loman - with all of his flaws and delusions - is the greatest American role for an actor.

In one of the flashbacks Bernard, played by Fran Kranz, is a studious and awkward classmate of the Lomans. He worships Biff and helps him cheat on tests. Later, Bernard becomes everything Willy would have wanted his sons to be. And Miller even gives him a tennis racket. The tables have turned. Now he's the athlete.

It's like one final, ironic twist in a heartbreaking story.