Skip to main content

On Musicals

"Big River" is a retelling of "Huckleberry Finn," and it's a case where the lyricist's love for the source material is constantly obvious. The lyricist isn't overly reverent toward Mark Twain. He is also not glib or superior toward his material. He writes with warmth, confidence, and energy--and a sense of humor.

The town surrounding Huck can't tolerate Huck's spiritedness: "If you don't learn to read then you can't read your Bible and you'll never get to Heaven....cuz you won't know how!"

Huck himself is memorably defiant: "...And I'll never change for no one....no matter what they say. If I want to smoke in church, I'll smoke. If I want to pray, I'll pray." As part of his education, Huck tries on show-business, marketing a freak show, a "Royal Nonesuch": "She's got one big breast in the middle of her chest and an eye in the middle of her nose. So says I if you look in her in the eye? You're better off looking up her nose...."

The first Broadway version of "Big River" was distinguished by a towering, regal performance from Ron Richardson, who played Jim. Whenever he pops up on the recording, the show springs to life; listening is like listening to God. (Richardson was well-matched by a witty, exuberant performance from Daniel Jenkins, who was the original Huck.)

Shortly after "Big River" made its splash, Richardson died; the cause was complications from AIDS. I have never been able to determine whether Richardson was gay; this kind of detail was shrouded in secrecy in the eighties. (See also the life and romantic career of Arnold Lobel.)

In any case, "Big River" gives us a fairy-tale-esque adventure: A spiky hero detaches from his carping parent-figures and has wild times on the road. (On the river, actually.) The show also gives us a thorny and slightly-homoerotic central friendship--between Huck and Jim--and it's never less-than-moving to hear the two huddling together to address the Mississippi: "Sometimes, in a time of trouble, when you're out of hand, and your muddy bubbles roll across the floor...Carryin 'way the things I treasure....Hell, there ain't no way to measure why I love you more...than I did the day before..."

"Big River" has more heart and more braininess than most of the shows that make it to Broadway. I think about it now and then. If you haven't ever listened, it's not a bad introduction to the charms and possibilities of the American musical theater.

P.S. Yes! The baby is here. Joshua is resting and doing well. He seems to acquire more and more personality by the hour. More soon!

P.P.S. The original "Big River" gives you--additionally--John Goodman, in a (typically) great portrait of Huck's father. THAT John Goodman. Doing a musical!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...