Skip to main content

Cabaret

 The Tony Awards this year could be a showdown between "Cabaret" and "Merrily We Roll Along." Sondheim admired Kander and Ebb, so I like this possibility.


"Tomorrow Belongs to Me" is diegetic music: It's a folk song that exists within the world of "Cabaret," so characters are *aware* when a waiter begins to sing it. Other characters can comment on the song (and, by contrast, you would not have a character commenting on "Defying Gravity" or "Send in the Clowns," as these are not diegetic songs).

Again and again, "Tomorrow" starts with beauty and ends in corruption:

The sun on the meadow is summery warm;
The stag in the forest runs free.
But gather together to greet the storm....
Tomorrow belongs to me.

The "storm" is almost buried in the stanza; it rears its head toward the end. This is like Katie Britt cooing at us in her kitchen, then slipping in some racist rhetoric before the big finish.

The branch of the linden is leafy and green;
The Rhine gives its gold to the sea.
But somewhere a glory awaits unseen....
Tomorrow belongs to me.

The "glory" lurks in the shadows; it's like the hidden wolf in the fairy-tale forest.

The song reproduces the structure of the musical "Cabaret"; we have two appealing love stories that occupy Act One, and we see both deteriorate, very quickly, in Act Two. This isn't the world of Richard Rodgers; no one makes it out with a marriage "intact."

The woman who sings "Tomorrow" has a shot at a Tony Award (see the Tony results from 1967). She has been an invention of Victoria Clark, and Gayle Rankin, among many others....I look forward to seeing Natascia Diaz.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

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...
3 comments
Read more

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...
1 comment
Read more

My Favorite Pop Song

  One thing I admire about Prince is his weirdly pretentious verses: Dream, if you can, a courtyard-- An ocean of violets in bloom. Also: Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside. No one else writes like this. Did people try to shoot down these choices? Did a producer say, "We'd like to rethink this one... Touch, if you will, my stomach...."  I can't help but wonder. But it's the chorus that makes this a classic. It's direct and universal--and it ends with that bizarre flourish, the allusion to "the crying doves." (Prince's song was number one in America for quite a while; it defeated Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark.") How can you just leave me standing-- Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother; She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cr...
Post a Comment
Read more