Amy Sherman Palladino--the woman responsible for the cloying mess that is "Mrs. Maisel"--has now set her sights on an adaptation of Sondheim's "Gypsy." Let's hope this is aborted. While we wait to see, some important things to remember:
-"Gypsy" is called the "King Lear" of the American musical. It is cited as a perfectly-plotted work. In what sense? The opening scene has Momma Rose in the position of power. She towers over a cowering Louise: Famously, she screams, "Sing out, Louise!" (Famously, also, she invades the story from a position in the audience. The first time we see her, she is bursting through the frame. We have a sense that nothing can contain her.) After a full act of almost total brutality toward Louise, Momma Rose finds herself somewhat abject (right before intermission). Abandoned by the daughter she likes, Rose must turn to Louise for fame. (Of course, being Rose, she doesn't present herself as in need. She assaults Louise with faux-exclamations: "Lucky you! You get to help me.") By the end of Act Two, the power structure we know well has somehow upended itself: Louise has assumed command, and scary Momma Rose is on her knees, begging. A neat trick: a steam engine, chugging along. In a way, Rose has attained her wish--but the wish looks nothing like the thing Rose had in mind. That's how you build a plot.
-"Gypsy" was Sondheim's exercise in writing for a specific performer, for Ethel Merman. He enjoys telling a story about Ethel. Ms. Merman was loud, and she liked to swear. She was collaborating with someone prim, who actually had a swear jar. After two or three offenses, Ms. Merman blew up. "Enough," she said, and handed the colleague fifty dollars, or something like this. "Just take the fucking money and shut up, you twat." (I'm embellishing.)
-"Gypsy" and "Forum" were great hits for Young Sondheim, so Sondheim perhaps grew a bit cocky. Perhaps he thought he could do anything he wanted. He wrote "Anyone Can Whistle," which strayed far, far from safe Rodgers and Hammerstein terrain. Too far. It closed right away. (Of course, given that we're talking about Sondheim....the show gave birth to several immortal numbers. The title song. And "There Won't Be Trumpets." And "Everybody Says Don't." And "With So Little to Be Sure of....")
-In some ways, "Gypsy" feels like a history of tidal change in America. That's amazing, because it's really just a story about a mom and a daughter. The mom thinks you can win fame by being cute. The daughter realizes you can win fame by taking off your clothes. (This reminds me of Whitney Houston, complaining about Janet Jackson: That's not talent. That's just sex.) The striptease is also a metaphor for what we're seeing in terms of emotional growth: These women are gradually removing layer after layer to show us what is at their core. At Rose's core: A screaming baby. A big ugly id. We see that in her climactic meltdown, when she goes from frightening sexual aggressor to quivering child. Do you see why other musicals seem a bit "slight," after you think about "Gypsy"?
-One of my favorite moments--in the more-or-less-perfect writing--is the seduction number, "Small World." Rose never really allows Herbie to form opinions, or to consider whether he wants to be in this relationship. Instead, Rose does Herbie's thinking for him. The words are so subtle and so smart. "Funny, you're a stranger who's come here. Come from another town. Funny, I'm a stranger myself here. Small world--isn't it?" Is it really that funny to be two strangers in one town? No, but Rose is brilliant, and will seize on any faux-similarity to get what she wants. "You're a man who goes traveling.....rather than settling down....Funny, 'cause I'd love to go traveling..." But is that really true? And isn't the more obvious fact that, while one person is well-traveled, the other is not? But Rose--bright as she is--turns a glaring *difference* into another building block. "You're a man who likes children....Lucky, I'm a *woman* with children...." This is the funniest bit--because, throughout history, it has rarely, if ever, been viewed as enviable to be a middle-aged single woman with children. But, again: Rose is unstoppable.
"We have so much in common! It's a phenomenon!" Stunned by Rose's spell, Herbie finds himself murmuring, a kind of back-up singer, at the end of the song. The deal is more or less sealed. The next major moment when Rose will address Herbie in song: the double-edged number, "You'll Never Get Away from Me."
-Could Nicole Holofcener direct this? Maybe with Catherine Keener and Emma Stone? That's a film I'd like to see. Just a thought.
-"Gypsy" is called the "King Lear" of the American musical. It is cited as a perfectly-plotted work. In what sense? The opening scene has Momma Rose in the position of power. She towers over a cowering Louise: Famously, she screams, "Sing out, Louise!" (Famously, also, she invades the story from a position in the audience. The first time we see her, she is bursting through the frame. We have a sense that nothing can contain her.) After a full act of almost total brutality toward Louise, Momma Rose finds herself somewhat abject (right before intermission). Abandoned by the daughter she likes, Rose must turn to Louise for fame. (Of course, being Rose, she doesn't present herself as in need. She assaults Louise with faux-exclamations: "Lucky you! You get to help me.") By the end of Act Two, the power structure we know well has somehow upended itself: Louise has assumed command, and scary Momma Rose is on her knees, begging. A neat trick: a steam engine, chugging along. In a way, Rose has attained her wish--but the wish looks nothing like the thing Rose had in mind. That's how you build a plot.
-"Gypsy" was Sondheim's exercise in writing for a specific performer, for Ethel Merman. He enjoys telling a story about Ethel. Ms. Merman was loud, and she liked to swear. She was collaborating with someone prim, who actually had a swear jar. After two or three offenses, Ms. Merman blew up. "Enough," she said, and handed the colleague fifty dollars, or something like this. "Just take the fucking money and shut up, you twat." (I'm embellishing.)
-"Gypsy" and "Forum" were great hits for Young Sondheim, so Sondheim perhaps grew a bit cocky. Perhaps he thought he could do anything he wanted. He wrote "Anyone Can Whistle," which strayed far, far from safe Rodgers and Hammerstein terrain. Too far. It closed right away. (Of course, given that we're talking about Sondheim....the show gave birth to several immortal numbers. The title song. And "There Won't Be Trumpets." And "Everybody Says Don't." And "With So Little to Be Sure of....")
-In some ways, "Gypsy" feels like a history of tidal change in America. That's amazing, because it's really just a story about a mom and a daughter. The mom thinks you can win fame by being cute. The daughter realizes you can win fame by taking off your clothes. (This reminds me of Whitney Houston, complaining about Janet Jackson: That's not talent. That's just sex.) The striptease is also a metaphor for what we're seeing in terms of emotional growth: These women are gradually removing layer after layer to show us what is at their core. At Rose's core: A screaming baby. A big ugly id. We see that in her climactic meltdown, when she goes from frightening sexual aggressor to quivering child. Do you see why other musicals seem a bit "slight," after you think about "Gypsy"?
-One of my favorite moments--in the more-or-less-perfect writing--is the seduction number, "Small World." Rose never really allows Herbie to form opinions, or to consider whether he wants to be in this relationship. Instead, Rose does Herbie's thinking for him. The words are so subtle and so smart. "Funny, you're a stranger who's come here. Come from another town. Funny, I'm a stranger myself here. Small world--isn't it?" Is it really that funny to be two strangers in one town? No, but Rose is brilliant, and will seize on any faux-similarity to get what she wants. "You're a man who goes traveling.....rather than settling down....Funny, 'cause I'd love to go traveling..." But is that really true? And isn't the more obvious fact that, while one person is well-traveled, the other is not? But Rose--bright as she is--turns a glaring *difference* into another building block. "You're a man who likes children....Lucky, I'm a *woman* with children...." This is the funniest bit--because, throughout history, it has rarely, if ever, been viewed as enviable to be a middle-aged single woman with children. But, again: Rose is unstoppable.
"We have so much in common! It's a phenomenon!" Stunned by Rose's spell, Herbie finds himself murmuring, a kind of back-up singer, at the end of the song. The deal is more or less sealed. The next major moment when Rose will address Herbie in song: the double-edged number, "You'll Never Get Away from Me."
-Could Nicole Holofcener direct this? Maybe with Catherine Keener and Emma Stone? That's a film I'd like to see. Just a thought.
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