Skip to main content

On Broadway

 Sondheim hated intermissions; he felt they sucked energy out of the evening. "Follies," "Passion," and "Assassins" all have (at least) versions that unfold without an intermission.


When Sondheim did use an intermission, he tended to use the Hammerstein template. Get to the curtain with a loud crash: "Climb Every Mountain." Start Act II with something sort of disposable, for the people who are still in the restroom (the von Trapp children gather to rehearse a less-than-urgent reprise of the title song).

Sondheim's "Sweeney Todd" concludes Act One with a major twist; the two leads commit to a life of cannibalism. The song is witty and canonical--but, curiously, it left Sondheim himself somewhat disappointed. He wanted a bigger bang. In any case, the Act Two opener--"God, That's Good"--beautifully describes a day in the murder house/pie shop (and it's free of substantial emotional moments, again as a tip of the hat to the audience members who are still outside, smoking a cigarette).

"Sunday in the Park" does have the choral fireworks that Sondheim desired. "Sunday," in which George's painting takes its final shape, ranks among the major "staged miracles" in Broadway history. And the start of Act Two--in which characters complain about being trapped on a canvas--is a nice way of lightening the mood.

I especially love Sondheim's choices in "Merrily." Act One ends with its own triumphant version of "Climb Every Mountain" (I prefer Sondheim's choice of words). Then, Act Two opens with a show-within-the-show. A character is performing on a stage--but, of course, her observations are relevant to the "actual" story we are following, the story of Franklin Shepard.

He's only a boy....
Why do I think he loves me?
Maybe he loves what I can do for him--
Maybe he thinks that I'll come through for him--
Maybe the moon is cheese...

But then maybe, maybe...
Something real is happening here...

The major characters in "Merrily" love each other--and don't. They are continuously involved in a tug-of-war. One makes an expedient, selfish choice, and the others have to decide if forgiveness is the right route to take. (When should one pull the plug?)

This is frosting on a cake; if you miss the solo, it's OK. You can piece together what is occurring in the show. But: What a thrill, if you're in your seat when the lights go back down.
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

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...
2 comments
Read more

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...
Post a Comment
Read more