Wanna see a T. rex fossil dance? How ’bout a clan of cavemen? Then head down to the Museum of Natural
History. No, not the one in Central Park
at 79th Street—the one at the Lyric Theatre on 42nd Street west of 7th
Avenue. That’s where On the Town is on stage. The current revival of Leonard Bernstein,
Betty Comden, and Adolph Green’s World War II musical is, if nothing else, a
romp, mostly a throw-back to the heyday of old-fashioned musical comedy—before
it had to be rechristened “musical theater” or even “musical drama”—with a
little tweaking for the 21st century. It
doesn’t deal with anything serious or substantial; it’s all about having
fun—the audience in the theater; the sailors and their girls in a
Lifesaver-colored New York, New York (that dancing T. rex is lemon yellow, for
example); and, we trust, the dancers, singers, and actors on stage and the
musicians in the pit. My companion,
Diana, said she hadn’t realized how “corny” the book of On the Town is, but I enjoyed myself despite the execrable weather
outside (a drenching rain).
1944’s On the Town
is a legendary American musical, with book and lyrics by Comden and Green—their
first collaboration for the Broadway stage—and music by Bernstein (his first Broadway
score). To complete the foursome, Jerome
Robbins, whose ballet for the American Ballet Theatre, Fancy Free, that premièred on 18 April that same year, had
been the foundation of the musical, was brought in to choreograph, also his
first musical theater gig. (The original
Broadway outing that opened on 28 December at the Adelphi Theatre, now
demolished, was directed by the veteran—and immensely successful—George
Abbott.) It ran over a year,
accumulating 462 performances; Comden and Green were among the interracial
cast, appearing as Claire de Loone, a not-so-repressed anthropologist, and
Ozzie, the lead sailor who meets her at the museum, respectively. In 1949, MGM, which had helped finance the
stage show in return for the movie rights, turned On the Town into a film starring Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly (as
Chip and Gabey, the two other principal swabbies), but the studio replaced all
the songs except “New York, New York” with Hollywood fare.
Later productions of On
the Town didn’t meet with a great deal of success. The London première in 1963 closed after 63
performances, the 1971 and ’98 Broadway revivals ran for only 73 and 69
performances each (despite the presence in the cast of Phyllis Newman,
Bernadette Peters, and Donna McKechnie in the ’71 restaging). The 1998 version had been a transfer by the
Public Theater from its summer season at the outdoor Delacorte Theater which
had been a popular hit, but apparently suffered from the move indoors.
Concert presentations have been popular, starting with a
1992 semi-staging by Michael Tilson Thomas leading the London Symphony
Orchestra which then was remounted with the San Francisco Symphony in
1996. New York City’s Encores! presented
a concert version of On the Town in
2008, directed by John Rando, who staged the 2014 Broadway revival, and featuring
Tony Yazbeck as Gabey, a role he repeated in the staging I saw.
The English National Opera placed the musical in its
repertory in 2007. New Jersey’s Paper
Mill Playhouse mounted a revival in 2009 and in 2013, Rando directed a production
of On the Town for the Barrington
Stage Company in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, with essentially the same cast as
the one that opened at the Lyric (formerly the Foxwoods, after a slew of
previous renamings) on 16 October 2014.
The current staging started previews on Broadway on 20 September 2014,
accumulating 288 performances as of this writing (28 June). The Hollywood
Reporter has reported that the revival’s producers are planning a National
Tour in the 2015-16 season to coincide with the centennial of Bernstein’s
birth. (Some listings indicate that On the Town plans to close by 1
September to go out on the tour, but the Internet Broadway Database, maintained
by the Broadway League, doesn’t list a closing date.) My friend Diana and I saw the performance at
the Lyric on Saturday evening, 27 June; we picked up tickets for the
two-hour-and-thirty-five minute show (with one intermission) at TDF’s discount
TKTS booth in Duffy Square.
I won’t do a detailed synopsis of
the plot; it’s so well known and far too easy to look up. I’ll just say that it’s set in wartime New
York City and tells the story of three sailors, Chip, Gabey, and Ozzie, on
liberty from their ship for a mere 24 hours.
(At pre-set, there’s a giant American flag filling the proscenium, and
then the orchestra plays “The Star-Spangled Banner”—substituting for a formal
overture—bringing the audience to its feet, the first time I’ve seen that in an
American theater, though the Brits still do it.) During their day in the Big City, they plan
to see all the famous sights and “pick up a date . . . . Maybe seven . . . . Or eight” on their way. They do less well with the first goal than
the second, as Gabey, the romantic, falls in love with the photo on the subway
of the new Miss Turnstiles, Ivy Smith (there was an actual Miss Subways contest
from 1941 to 1976); Ozzie, the stud, meets Claire de Loone, an anthropologist
working at the Museum of Natural History, and they get “Carried Away” (the
raucous number, written by Comden and Green for themselves, that includes the
dancing T. rex—an honest-to-God hoot); and the schedule-making, sight-seeking
Chip (whose family name is Offenblock—get it?) finds trouser-chasing Hildy (for
Brunhilde, no less) Esterhazy in wait in her cab for a likely passenger. The story’s mostly improbable—especially if
you actually know New York City!—but no one cares, because it’s all a helluva
fantasy and part of the fun is seeing the shipmates get into difficulties (they
start right out when Gabey removes the poster of Ivy from its frame and an old
lady rats his theft of city property to a cop) and then get out pretty much by
dumb luck. You know they will, but it’s
how it happens that’s the heart of the play.
So, hang on, for just as Hildy gives Chip a whirlwind, high-speed tour
of the entire city (she can’t wait to get him to “Come Up to My Place”),
Comden, Green, Bernstein, Rando, Joshua Bergasse (the choreographer who drew
from Robbins’s spirit), and Beowulf Boritt (the set and projection designer)
give us one helluva view of this “vistor’s place”! (The New York City PR organization has
recently—just about when On the Town opened—launched
an ad campaign to urge New Yorkers to “See Your City.” If city-dwellers don’t want to be actual
tourists in their hometown, a visit to On
the Town comes close to being a virtual substitute. But with singing and dancing.)
(A joke in Comden and Green’s book
is that Chip has a guidebook his father gave him from the older man’s visit to
the City in 1934. Most of the places in
it the sailor’s supposed to see—“I promised Daddy I wouldn't miss on any”—were
gone by 1944, like the Hippodrome, which closed in 1939; the famous Woolworth
Building, which Chip reads was the tallest building in the world, no longer
holds that title, Hildy tells him, now that they have the Empire State. Since the play’s first run, however, many of
the places named in the libretto are also gone now, too; the Brooklyn Navy
Yard, where the men’s ship is docked, closed in 1966, for instance, and though
the Woolworth Building is still around, Woolworth’s five-and-dimes aren’t. Nonetheless, the Bronx is still up and the
Battery’s still down—and the people still ride in a hole in the ground!)
Diana’s right, of course: On the Town is silly. I don’t know if Rando and the Barrington
Stage Company hoked the play up to sell it in Pittsfield (I’d never seen the
musical on stage before, oddly enough, just the bowdlerized movie), but there are
some obvious insertions. (This
production has a racially mixed cast, but that turns out not to be a
21st-century innovation: the 1944 Broadway staging included African-American
performers and Ivy was played by Japanese-American dancer Sono Osato.) Director Rando indulged the urge to tweak the
script and score with “additional material” supplied by playwrights Robert Cary
and Jonathan Tolins which sometimes calls attention to itself. A running gag throughout the show, for
example, is the same two women (Flossie and her Friend)—in the subway, on the
street, in an elevator—whom we overhear in mid-conversation. Flossie’s obviously having an affair with her
boss, Mr. Godolphin. At Carnegie Hall,
we see two men entering one of the rehearsal rooms—and they’re having the same
conversation about Mr. Godolphin, clearly a bit of re-casting for the present
day that’s not likely to have occurred in 1944.
But, as I’ve admitted many times on ROT,
I have nearly no critical distance when it comes to these old-time musicals, so
little of this detracted from my enjoyment.
So there’s little point in
discussing the book—it’s no more than a vehicle for the songs and
performances. It’s probably worth noting
that Bernstein’s music, though substantial and lovely, produced only one iconic
song, “New York, New York.” As befits a
play derived from a ballet, however, almost all the songs are dance numbers,
and the execution of both the singing and the dancing, including the
choreography of Joshua Bergasse, was almost universally superb. Bergasse, best known as the choreographer for
the TV series Smash (2012–2013), is
also certified by the Jerome Robbins Foundation for whom he teaches the dances
in another Bernstein-Robbins collaboration, West
Side Story. He seems to have set about
to spiff up Robbins’s original choreography for On the Town (which only survives as fragments), drawing on the character of Robbins’s work rather than
reinventing it entirely. (I may not have
seen On the Town on stage before, but
I have seen Robbins’s theater work, including 1989’s Jerome Robbins’ Broadway.)
His work and that of his dancers is sprightly and acrobatics-packed (for
the most part—the exception is “Imaginary Coney Island,” Chip’s dream about
meeting Ivy after having lost her earlier, which is romantic and
heartfelt). Bergasse was nominated for
the Best Choreography Tony and the Outstanding Choreography Drama Desk Award
for 2015.
Some reviewers back in October
complained that Rando’s pacing was haphazard and uneven. I didn’t find that, and maybe over the
ensuing eight months, the performance has evened out in the huge Broadway
theater it now occupies (the Lyric, at 1,930 seats, is the second largest house
on Broadway), acquiring its rhythm. The director has managed to take what Ben
Brantley called in the New York Times “a seemingly limp 1944 artifact,” and breathe
vibrant, delightful, silly life back into it. (Rando was a 2015 nominee for the Tony for Best Direction of a Musical.)
The six principal performers, Clyde
Alves (Ozzie), Jay Armstrong Johnson (Chip), Tony Yazbeck (Gabey), Megan
Fairchild (Ivy), Alysha Umphress (Hildy), and Elizabeth Stanley (Claire), each
do outstanding work in the voice and footwork departments, establishing their
own styles and personalities even when dancing and singing in pairs and
groups. (Johnson has a flair for
physical comedy, especially visible in his wild ride in Hildy’s cab.) They all sing wonderfully, and each actor has
his or her unique delivery style, with particular emphasis on Stanley’s
Claire. (The singing is marred to an
extent by the miking, which flattens everything out and makes it hard to
determine where a voice on stage is coming from. I’m sure it’s easier on the singers, but, as
I’ve said before, I still wish the theater’d go back to the way they did it
before amplification became the norm.) Fairchild
is a principal ballerina with the New York City Ballet, but the others are all
theater and Broadway vets who here simply validate their chops as musical
theater up-and-comers. Fairchild makes
an impressive début—she’s the only one of the main six who wasn’t in the BSC
production and this is her first performance outside the ballet world—and she
won the 2015 Theatre World Award for her role in On the Town. Overall, and I
don’t intend this as faint praise, the whole ensemble is charming and
delightful, particularly in fulfilling their main purpose: delivering fun. (Yazbeck was nominated for the 2015 Tony for Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading
Role in a Musical and Stanley was a nominee for the 2015 Drama Desk Award for
Outstanding Featured Actress in a Musical.)
Beyond these, some wonderful
characterizations are salted through the production, including Jackie Hoffman’s
portrayal of Maude P. Dilly, Ivy’s dipso voice teacher at Carnegie Hall
(Hoffman plays a number of other old biddies, each a gem of a comic turn);
Michael Rupert’s Pitkin W. Bridgework, the over-indulgent fiancé of Claire de Loone;
Lucy Schmeeler, Hildy’s rheumy roommate as played by Allison Guinn; and Jess
LaProtto, who plays S. Uperman (that’s right!), Hildy’s dyspeptic taxi-company
boss. These are essentially vaudeville
blackout performances (lest we forget that Comden and Green started with short
comedy sketches), but they’re wonderfully eccentric and perfectly presented. (The timing by this cast is universally
flawless. If there’s laugh to be had,
even a cheap one, they find it.) I must
make one special acknowledgement, to Nicholas Ward as the dock worker who sings
the real opening number (before “New York, New York”), “I Feel Like I’m Not Out
of Bed Yet”: his deep, rich baritone is awfully reminiscent of Paul Robson,
with the same soul and heart I hear on recordings of Robson’s “Old Man
River.” A gorgeous rendition of the
longing to stay home with his woman and baby in his warm bed, rather than face
the pre-dawn cold and hard labor of dock work.
The sets (Boritt), costumes (Jess
Goldstein), and lighting (Jason Lyons) all add immensely to the bright fantasy
that is On the Town’s New York
City. Boritt’s skeletal scenery, like
the drawings in an expressionistic comic book (sorry, graphic novel), are
augmented by his whimsical, flashing projections of the skyline (especially as
seen from Brooklyn), looming streetscape (whizzing past as Hildy careens around
the city “from Yonkers on down to the Bay” with Chip), Coney Island (the
setting for that dream ballet) and Times Square (another ballet milieu), and
much more. Lit by Lyons, the stage of
the Lyric can’t be mistaken for any real New York City, but the one in the
fantasies of all who don’t actually live here (and some who do, I’m sure)—the
one evoked by the iconic song nearly everyone thinks of in connection with the
city where “no one lives on account of the pace.” Goldstein’s costumes just as strongly suggest
the different kinds of “Manhattan women” (and a few men, too) the boys meet
during their one-day liberty. And then
there are those Navy whites! I’ve always
found it funny when dancers are dressed as swabbies—maybe it’s the bellbottoms
that wiggle and flap or the middy blouses that ride up and the neckerchiefs that
flop around—and On the Town makes
terrific use of this phenomenon.
There was lots of press on this
production—including out-of-town papers like the Los Angeles Times, the Boston
Globe, and the Minneapolis Star
Tribune—which I suppose isn’t surprising given its iconic status in the
world of musical theater. The reviews
were generally on the same wavelength for the most part, although there was some disagreement about the effectiveness of Boritt’s sets as well as
Rando’s directing—and about half the notices panned Jackie Hoffman’s comedy and
half lauded it to the skies. (One thing
upon which everybody but one journalist agreed was the marvelous performance
given by Megan Fairchild in her first speaking role and Broadway début.)
In the New York Post, Elisabeth Vincentelli called On the Town “Leonard Bernstein’s joyous musical” and observed that
“Betty Comden and Adolph Green’s book and lyrics still crackle and pop after
all these decades.” She complained,
however, that since On the Town is “already
written funny, . . . director John Rando’s frantic oversell can feel a little
desperate.” Further, “It’s also hard to
get past Beowulf Boritt’s pedestrian, pastel-colored set and his eyesore
projections, which do little to bring the ’40s to life,” said the NYP reviewer. “But that can’t dim the glittering gem that
is ‘On the Town,’ with its delirious, high-energy score, which seamlessly
incorporates Tin Pan Alley, boogie woogie and even a Brecht-Weill pastiche.” Vincentelli, however, reserved special praise
for “[t]he show’s golden asset,” Megan Fairchild, who’s “graceful and strikes
breathtakingly beautiful lines.” Pronounced
Vincentelli ,“The show explodes with unfettered joy every time she’s onstage.”
Declaring On the Town “a show about sex that you can take the whole family to,”
the New York Times’ Ben
Brantley called the production at the Lyric a “jubilant revival” and a “merry
mating dance” that “feels as fresh as first sunlight.” The Timesman
went on to say, “If there’s a leer hovering over ‘On the Town,’ . . . it’s
the leer of an angel.” In his rave
review of the revival, Brantley had high praise for all the
actor-singer-dancers, including the supporting cast, as well as the designers,
choreographer, orchestra, and director.
(Music director James Moore, conducting a 28-piece orchestra, used the
original 1944 arrangements for the score.)
Characterizing On the Town as “fizzy
and frisky” in the Daily News, Joe
Dziemianowicz said that not only do the play’s sailors “get lucky,” but “[t]he
audience does, too.” The show “feels
like a big, juicy kiss,” Dziemianowicz wrote.
The director, said the Newsman,
“mines the script for all its boisterous humor and smartly makes space for
hushed interludes” and he also praised the entire company collectively and
individually, noting, “The look of the show is chipper and bright.” Dziemianowicz did cavil about Boritt’s set
designs, describing them as “head-scratchers”: “Set pieces add modern
flourishes but overdo the cartoonishness. That includes clear plastic
skyscrapers and a lemon-yellow T. rex.” “Even
so,” the News review-writer
concluded, “it’s a helluva entertainment.”
“When did you last see a big-budget
musical that made you want to shout with joy?” asked Terry Teachout in the Wall Street Journal. Then he announced that On the Town “is everything a great show should be,” adding that “anyone
who isn’t thrilled by this tinglingly well-staged production needs a heart
transplant.” Nonetheless, Teachout
admonished readers that On the Town “is
far more than a piece of fancy fluff, and while John Rando, the
director, is a recognized master of comic timing who could make a funeral funny,
he never skimps on warmth. Neither does
his cast . . . .” Heaping plaudits on
the designers, music director, and ensemble, the WSJ reviewer instructed readers, “I urge you to see it as soon as
you possibly can.” USA Today’s Elysa Gardner
warned us that the director, choreographer, and music director “have mined the
show . . . for all its raw poignance, without sacrificing any of its jazzy wit
or exuberant romanticism,” resulting in a show “that will leave you both
exhilarated and haunted.” “The superb
cast has great fun,” reported Gardner, but admonished us, “Great musical
theater doesn’t require total escapism, after all, any more than unconditional
happy endings,” referring to the touchingly sad finale, “Some Other Time,” when
the squids and their new-found girlfriends say goodbye shipside, knowing they
may never see each other again—as the boys go off to war.
In the Financial Times, Brendan Lemon called the production a “joyous,
amusing revival” in which “sailors on shore leave have never seemed so
deliriously horny.” Linda Winer of Long
Island’s Newsday described this On the Town as an “altogether loving,
good-humored, skimpy-looking but imaginative frolic” that “just is a breezy, peppy, pleasantly
libidinous valentine to New York-New York.”
Winer, like several other reviewers, lamented the lack of reference to
the fighting of World War II (they all seem to forget that, my comment above
aside, this was intended in 1944 to be escapist theater from that very concern), scolded Jackie Hoffman for “overdoing four comic cameos” (including Maude
P. Dilly), complained that “the two big ballet scenes don't build into more
than serviceable pastiche,” and took director Rando to task because he “doesn't
delineate Gabey's two pals . . . enough.” Winer concluded that On the Town “needs a throat-catching sense of the world outside to
make it more than diverting.”
Rex Reed stated in the New York Observer, in one of the only
truly negative notices, “The latest (and best) in a long line of mostly
second-rate Broadway revivals . . . brings back all the songs from the original
1944 stage production . . . . But the
star wattage [of the 1949 film] stayed home . . . .” The gifted actors, Reed added, “erase no
golden memories of MGM magic.”
Complaining that Yazbeck, for all his obvious talent, is “no Gene Kelly,”
Reed persisted in comparing the 2014 Broadway revival to the Bernstein-less MGM
flick; even the shipmates’ three dates “couldn’t fill Vera-Ellen’s toe
shoes . . . can’t carry Ann Miller’s tap shoes . . . [or] lacks the
endearing charm and comic timing of Betty Garrett.” (Those would be the movie’s Ivy, Claire, and
Hildy.) The Observinator went on to dub the revival “a very good summer stock production,”
adding that “what it does best . . . is serve as a reminder of what a
monumental job . . . the MGM geniuses . . . did . . .,” explaining, “They knew how to
edit, condense and shape, achieving the kind of sizzling momentum the current
(uneven) On the Town often misses.” Reed summed up with: “You won’t be bored by
all the gridlock in On the Town, but there’s so
much of it! And it’s entirely too long for its own good.” (Oh, and Reed was the sole writer to pan Fairchild’s
Miss Turnstiles, declaring that “she
can’t act, and on the rare occasions when she does speak, her articulation is
full of rocks.”)
In New York, Jesse Green described On
the Town as “a heartbreakingly youthful work: both about youth and by youth”
(Comden, Green, Bernstein, and Robbins’s average age when they created the
musical was 27!); the “crowd-pleaser” revival is “as big and breakneck and
beautiful as ever.” Green complained of
some “insufferable missteps” that carried over from the original to the
revival, such as a “plot [that] is somewhat random” and “the effortfully silly
character names” (Chip Offenblock, Claire de Loone, Pitkin W. Bridgework), but
the play “triumphs over” them. Green
also affirmed that “the musical aspects of the revival . . . are first-rate,”
praising both the singers and the orchestra.
He does quibble with some aspects of Boritt’s scenic design and
projections, and even some of the principal acting and Rando’s insertion of
“shtick” in both the songs and dances, which “begins to suggest that director
John Rando does not trust the material.”
In the end, though, the man from New
York urged: “If for no other reason than ‘Some Other Time’—and there really
are plenty—get yourself, by warship or taxi, to On the Town.”
In the New Yorker, Robert Gottlieb
used most of his review to compare the new On
the Town, not to the movie (for doing which he took Rex Reed to task) but
to the original 1944 première, which he says he saw when he was 14. He spent about half his column describing
his youthful experience of that surprising event, then, disparaging the
reviews of Reed and Ben Brantley, who’s report made him “prepared to loathe”
the revival, until “the wonderful songs started turning up, and the very
capable dancing”—of which he caviled “there may be a little too much.” The 2014 production, “a big, brassy spectacle
worthy of Vegas,” Gottlieb reported, “is a lot of fun on its own terms.” The New
Yorker review-writer asserted, despite some “longueurs,” that “there are
high spots” as well. Compared to the
“touch of amateurism” in the original, in the revival “there isn’t a moment of
anything but slick professionalism, but there are worse crimes.” Gottlieb concluded, “This is the ‘On the Town’
that can make it in today’s showbiz, and I’m glad that today’s audience is
eating it up and restoring it to its proper place in the pantheon.”
Acknowledging that out of On the Town’s “paper-thin premise, the
original collaborators spun loopy magic,” the Village Voice’s Jacob Gallagher-Ross declared, “And director John
Rando’s new production delivers the goods: . . . the gushing effervescence of
just-uncorked Champagne.” “It’s a
confection, but a delightful one,” Gallagher-Ross affirmed, and he advised, “Somewhere
inside every jaded New Yorker, there’s an awestruck, aw-shucks sailor, still
besotted by the city and crying for some shore leave. So indulge your inner rube and take in the new
revival of On the Town, an evergreen entertainment whose brash
charms have not faded with time. . . . They
don’t make musicals like this anymore, and you’ll leave wishing that they did.”
In the entertainment press, Adam
Feldman of Time Out New York,
delivered his “Bottom Line”: the On the
Town revival is a “major production of a fairly minor work,” which he said
“seems a bit like a well-mounted exhibit at some Natural History Museum of
Broadway: a stuffed lark.” The man from TONY found that, “though frisky and
enjoyable” and the company does “their best to deliver a night of re-creationist
recreation,” the play “does not have the strongest legs.” In Entertainment
Weekly, Thom Geier called the revival “spirited and surprisingly frank,”
but sadly quipped, “The Bronx may be up, as the song goes, but the battery
sometimes runs down on this production—which only occasionally hits the
ebullient heights of the Empire State Building.” Calling the On the Town revival “still
a helluva show,” Marilyn Stasio said in
Variety that director Rando “has given the kid-glove treatment” to the
production, while Bergasse’s choreography is “classic in design and elegant in
form” and “although the young and vital cast is light on acting chops, the
dancing is sensational.” Stasio,
however, thought that “the show’s comic elements are much giddier than they
need to be,” but “that must have seemed like the safest way to go with the show,
given the limited acting range of some key players.” “But who’s going to go to the mat on that,” the
Variety reviewer added, when the “lyrics alone are enough to make any
old grouch break out in a grin,” and “the sheer exuberance of the music (God
bless that orchestra) gives wing to the ecstatic joy of the dance.” David Rooney of the Hollywood Reporter dubbed the “vibrant
Broadway revival” of On the Town “transporting
entertainment” in which director Rando “embraces both the strengths and
weaknesses.” Rando, wrote Rooney, “is
unapologetic in presenting the old-fashioned material at face value,” directing
“with a mostly light touch.” The HR review-writer ended by declaring that
in this “beguiling” revival, “there’s ample pleasure on offer.”
The cyber press came to mostly the
same conclusions about this production of On
the Town. David Gordon observed on TheaterMania,
“Bigger isn’t always better,” complaining that the small, human staging at BSC
had grown outsized, “pushing the humor to the furthest reaches of the third
balcony of this massive house.” On the
other hand, however, the TM reviewer
added, “there are six central performances so exceptional that they make up for
said deficiencies.” Gordon warned, “As
funny as On the Town is, it is also sneakily poignant, resting
on an emotional transparency that here is only apparent in fits and starts” and
“the cast members fall too often into easy laughs that are more distracting
than they are funny.” The on-line review-writer
ended with, “But we should be thankful no matter what,” even though “[w]ith a
little more faith in the material and a little less desire to push for laughs,
Rando would have a perfectly calibrated production on his hands.” On CurtainUp,
Elyse Sommer found the Broadway revival of On
the Town, like its Pittsfield predecessor, “a wonderfully performed and
staged musical,” only the new incarnation is “bigger and more Broadway-ish.” With praise for all the artists, performing,
design, and directorial, of the new mounting, Sommer concluded, “For a night on
the town, with unforgettable numbers like the moving ‘Lonely Town’ with its
dreamy dancing you can’t beat this On the Town for old
fashioned fun, glorious music and breathtaking dancing.”
New
York Theatre Guide’s Casey Curtis quipped, “There is a candy store in
the lobby of the Lyric Theatre. It
serves beautifully displayed and wrapped sweets. This is exactly what you should expect inside
the Lyric Theatre as well when you see ‘On The Town.’” Curtis explained that the “show is a feast
for the eyes and ears, a beautifully wrapped sweet,” but warned that “the sugar
rush leads to a bit of a crash as the plot is thin as cellophane”; “nonetheless,”
the NYTG reviewer concluded, “this is
a high quality confection.” Director
Rando, Curtis affirmed, “impressively finds comedy at every turn”; Boritt’s
designs “are delightful,” and choreographer Bergasse “stages one superb dance number after
another.” “Candy is not nutritious,” the
cyber reviewer summed up, “but there is a reason we love it—it makes us feel
good. ‘On the Town’ will make you laugh
and bring delight . . . .” On Talkin’ Broadway, Matthew Murray called On
the Town, “a swanked-up” revival that’s been “choreographed to a frothy
fare-thee-well.” Even though “this is
hardly the best imaginable mounting of this show,” Murray felt that “it comes
close enough to be worth a trip.” Most
important, the characters “have and reveal fun, which is all that On
the Town really has on its mind,” which makes the play “simply put,
what musical theatre should be.” Murray
found, however, that “flaws begin to creep in—not big ones, mind you, but
lesser problems that, after a while, add up.”
He named the erratic direction, the production’s inconsistent energy,
and the uneven cast as well as Rando’s “urge to implement minor tweaks to the
script and score.” Murray’s final
assessment, though, is that “when it’s allowed to be itself, in all its
glittering ’40s glory, there’s no greater show—or time machine—in town.” Steven
Suskin of the Huffington Post
reported of On the Town that “this
romp of a spree is cookin’ with gas” and the spirit of the four creators
remains “in sparkling shape.” Rando and
Bergasse, Suskin asserted, “have precisely the right touch” and the revival “hits
the jackpot” with the six principal actors.
The BSC-derived revival of On the
Town, summed up Suskin, “is a dandy singing & dancing spree.”
The producers of 'On the Town' have announced that the musical will end its Broadway run at the Lyric Theatre on Sunday, 6 September. For the final two weeks, starting on 25 August, the role of Ivy Smith, "Miss Turnstiles," will be played by another ballet star, Misty Copeland, the first African-American principal dancer at the American Ballet Theatre.
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