08 July 2016

“Anatomy of a Broadway Flop”

by Michael Paulson

[The following article was published in section C (“The Arts”) of the New York Times of 23 June 2016.  “Anatomy of a Broadway Flop” is presented as a sort of theatrical post mortem of four big Broadway musicals that failed this season.  I know little about three of the shows in the article aside from the Times reviews, but I think that Michael Paulson, the acting theatrical ME, was probably gentler than I suspect the shows deserve.  If I didn’t know better, I’d come away from the article thinking, ‘Gee, they made a couple of little mistakes.  That’s hardly worthy of a death sentence.’  But I can attest at least in the case of Bright Star, the only one of the four plays covered here that I saw, that the creators and producers didn’t do much right from my perspective (see my report on 11 April—I didn’t pussyfoot!).  Bright Star almost certainly wouldn’t have even made it to a Broadway stage (or, probably, even the Kennedy Center) if the name Steve Martin hadn’t been attached.  (I doubt Edie Brickell carries that much weight.)  Bright Star shouldn’t have been in the lofty position it finagled for itself and couldn’t sustain its unearned prominence.  (It’s sort of the theater counterpart of the Peter Principle: the show rose to its level of artistic incompetence and failed.  I’m sorry for the artists who’ve lost their jobs—but theater, especially commercial theater, isn’t a jobs program.)

[American Psycho, with a book by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa and music and lyrics by Duncan Sheik, began previews at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre under the direction of Rupert Goold on 24 March 2016, opened on 21 April, and closed  on 5 June.  The review-survey website Show-Score gave American Psycho an average rating of 62 based on notices that were 49% positive and 30% negative with 21% mixed.  American Psycho won Drama Desk Awards for Outstanding Sound Design, Outstanding Lighting Design, and Outstanding Projection Design, plus five additional Drama Desk nominations and two Tony Award nominations (Best Scenic Design and Best Lighting Design).  The musical also received eight Outer Critics Circle Award nominations of which it won two (lighting and projection design) and two Drama League Award nominations.

[Bright Star has a book by Steve Martin, music by Martin and Edie Brickell, and lyrics by Brickell and began previews under the direction of Walter Bobbie at the Cort Theatre on 25 February and opened on 24 March; the show closed on 26 June.  Show-Score reported that Bright Star received 66% positive reviews, 18% negative, and 16% mixed, accumulating a score of 67.  Bright Star won one Theatre World award for Carmen Cusack’s performance and one Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Music; the musical was nominated for six additional Drama Desks and five Tonys (Best Musical, Best Book, Best Original Score, Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role, and Best Orchestrations).  It also won two Outer Critics Circle Awards (Outstanding New Broadway Musical and Outstanding New Score) from seven nominations, and one Drama League Award (Cusack) from two nominations; it also received two Fred and Adele Astaire Award nominations.        

[Disaster! began previews at the Nederlander Theatre on 9 February, opened on 8 March, and closed on 8 May.  Directed by Jack Plotnick, Disaster! has a book by Plotnick and Seth Rudetsky based on a concept created by Seth Rudetsky and Drew Geraci using popular songs of the 1970s.  Show-Score gave Disaster! an average score of 65, with 67% of its reviews positive, 26% negative, and 7% mixed.  The jukebox musical was nominated for one Tony for Jennifer Simard’s featured performance and one Drama Desk Award for the featured performance of Baylee Littrell.

[Tuck Everlasting, with a book by Claudia Shear and Tim Federle, music by Chris Miller, and lyrics by Nathan Tysen, started previews under Casey Nicholaw’s direction at the Broadhurst Theatre on 31 March, opening on 26 April and closing on 29 May.  Show-Score’s rating of 63 was based on an average of 45% positive notices, 24% negative, and 31% mixed.  Tuck received one Tony nomination, for the costume designs of Gregg Barnes, and won a Theatre World award for the performance of actress Sarah Charles Lewis.  There were also three nominations for Outer Critics Circle Awards, two Drama League Award nominations, and two Fred and Adele Astaire Award nods.]

Roger Bart in “Disaster!” (Sara Krulwich/The New York Times)
The woeful wordplay writes itself. “American Psycho” met a gruesome end. “Tuck Everlasting” was not immortal. “Bright Star” ran out of fuel. And “Disaster!” proved to be — well, you can finish that one yourself.

Broadway is a brutal business, in which real success is enjoyed by a handful of shows, while a vast majority crash and burn. And this season was especially tough, because one show, “Hamilton,” gobbled up much of the attention, enthusiasm and awards that motivate potential ticket buyers.

For musicals that opened this spring, it was an especially unforgiving season. Broadway is increasingly saturated with long-running hits, and four musicals that opened last fall — “School of Rock,” “On Your Feet!,” “Fiddler on the Roof” and “The Color Purple” — reached the new year still running strong.

“People don’t have to go to their ‘I don’t know, maybe I’ll like it’ show when there are so many ‘You’re going to love it’ shows to see,” said Jordan Roth, the president of Jujamcyn Theaters, which owns five of the 40 Broadway houses.

Ultimately, shows fail because not enough people buy tickets to see them. Maybe the title wasn’t as popular as the producers thought, the performers not as appealing, the stories not as dramatic, the songs not as memorable. And, in an era of high running costs, many producers can no longer afford to wait to let an audience build.

Four shows flopped this spring at a total loss to their investors. Here, based on interviews with a variety of Broadway figures, is an autopsy report of sorts for “American Psycho,” “Disaster!” and “Tuck Everlasting,” all of which closed in recent weeks, and “Bright Star,” which wraps up on Sunday.

Benjamin Walker in “American Psycho” (Sara Krulwich/The New York Times)

‘American Psycho’

The run 27 previews, then 54 performances after opening April 21 at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theater.

The story A hunky and status-obsessed investment banker who is (or at least appears to be) a sex-crazed serial killer in New York City in 1989.

Cost to produce $9.8 million

Onstage The title character, Patrick Bateman, was played by Benjamin Walker (“Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson”); the cast also featured a reunion of the “Next to Normal” co-stars Jennifer Damiano and Alice Ripley.

Offstage An A-list creative team: music by the singer-songwriter Duncan Sheik (“Spring Awakening”), set design by Es Devlin and direction by Rupert Goold (“King Charles III”). The lead producer was Jeffrey Richards.

What were they thinking? The title is well known and has an established fan base through the polarizing 1991 novel by Bret Easton Ellis and the cult film adaptation in 2000. The musical seemed sexy and fearless, with a critique of the go-go ’80s that might resonate in this era of intense discussion about income inequality; an initial production, at the Almeida Theater in London from 2013-14, received some encouraging reviews. The show was scheduled then to go to Second Stage, an Off Broadway nonprofit, for further development, but the rights holder was so confident of the prospects that it forced the cancellation of that production and moved straight to Broadway.

Critical response Divided, but several of the most influential critics hated it. The show was nominated for two Tony Awards, for scenic and lighting design, and won neither.

Why it failed It was always going to be a risk. The blood-drenched material (at one performance, a misfiring blood pack splattered an audience member) was unsuitable for families and unappealing to tourists, who make up a large constituency of Broadway ticket buyers. But the show proved divisive even for adventurous theatergoers. Some raved about its bold look and daring content, but others suggested it underplayed the satire; many found the explicit and misogynistic violence offensive. Also noteworthy: British-developed shows satirizing the United States (see “Enron”) have recently tanked on Broadway.

Carmen Cusack in “Bright Star” (Sara Krulwich/The New York Times)
‘Bright Star’

The run 30 previews, then 109 performances after opening March 24 at the Cort Theater.

The story Inspired by a news account of a baby found in a valise, the musical, set in North Carolina in the 1920s and the 1940s, tracks the intertwining stories of a young soldier and the editor of a Southern literary magazine.

Cost to produce $10.5 million

Onstage Instead of going with a well-known star, the show’s creative team chose Carmen Cusack, who had been with the project from the start; she got great reviews and was nominated for a Tony Award for her Broadway debut performance as the editor, Alice Murphy.

Offstage The comedian and musician Steve Martin and the singer-songwriter Edie Brickell collaborated on the score. The show was directed by Walter Bobbie (a Tony winner for “Chicago”), and the lead producer was Joey Parnes, who had shepherded “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love & Murder” into an unlikely hit.

What were they thinking? The producers and creators were encouraged with what they saw at two pre-Broadway productions, a premiere at the Old Globe in San Diego in 2014, then a run in 2015 at the Kennedy Center in Washington; they believed that the cultural cachet of Mr. Martin and Ms. Brickell would attract audiences and that a combination of buzz and awards would broaden the appeal.

Critical response Mixed. Charles Isherwood of The New York Times praised the show as “gentle-spirited, not gaudy,” but Terry Teachout described it in The Wall Street Journal as “a really bad bluegrass-pop musical.” The show was nominated for five Tony Awards, including for best new musical, but won none.

Why it failed Although some were charmed, few were wowed, making it hard to build word of mouth. As an original musical, not adapted from a film or novel, and with a complex plot, it was hard to explain to ticket buyers. Some found the show’s denouement laughably predictable. The musical was nostalgic; it was often described as quiet, or small, which has worked for some recent musicals (“Once,” “Fun Home”), though not this year. As “Bright Star” struggled at the box office, Mr. Martin and Ms. Brickell, among others, lent the production more money to keep it running, and on about a dozen occasions Mr. Martin joined the band onstage for an instrumental entr’acte, but it was not enough to save the show.

A scene from “Disaster!” (Sara Krulwich/The New York Times)

‘Disaster!’                              

The run 32 previews, then 72 performances after opening March 8 at the Nederlander Theater.

The story A spoof of 1970s disaster films (particularly “The Poseidon Adventure”), the show depicted the misadventures of the passengers and crew members on an ill-fated floating casino in New York City in 1979.

Cost to produce $6.5 million

Onstage Seth Rudetsky, a Broadway booster and a co-writer of the musical, starred as a disaster expert and enlisted several stage notables to ham it up alongside him, including Roger Bart (“The Producers”), Kerry Butler (“Xanadu”), Adam Pascal (“Rent”) and Faith Prince (“Guys and Dolls”).

Offstage The musical featured jukebox classics from the disco era and was directed by Jack Plotnick, who wrote the show with Mr. Rudetsky. The lead producer was Robert Ahrens.

What were they thinking? This show was an effort at counterprogramming — it had two successful Off Broadway runs, in 2012 and 2013-14, and the producers hoped that the enthusiasm for a campy night out could be replicated on Broadway.

Critical response Mr. Isherwood, writing in The Times, praised the show as a “delirious goof,” but other key critics were less impressed; in New York magazine, Jesse Green called it “a tiny entertainment that should probably have been left in a basement rec room.” Jennifer Simard’s uproarious performance as a nun with a gambling problem received the only Tony nomination; she did not hit the jackpot.

Why it failed The musical struck many as an extended, one-gag skit, without enough star power, spectacle or drama to justify Broadway prices (or a two-act running time), and it sank.

Andrew Keenan-Bolger and Sarah Charles Lewis in the musical 
“Tuck Everlasting.” (Sara Krulwich/The New York Times)

‘Tuck Everlasting’

The run 28 previews, then 39 performances after opening April 26 at the Broadhurst Theater.

The story A young girl who meets an immortal family in the woods of rural New Hampshire and must decide whether to drink from the water that would allow her to live forever.

Cost to produce $11 million

Onstage The Broadway veterans Terrence Mann (“Pippin”), Carolee Carmello (“Parade”), Michael Park (“Cat on a Hot Tin Roof”) and Andrew Keenan-Bolger (“Newsies”), along with an 11-year-old newcomer, Sarah Charles Lewis.

Offstage A beloved children’s book, published in 1975 by Natalie Babbitt, was the key ingredient. Add in the hitmaker Casey Nicholaw as director and choreographer, changing pace from his go-for-the-guffaw spectacles — “Aladdin,” “The Book of Mormon” and “Something Rotten!” The musical’s initial book was by Claudia Shear, and then the producers added Tim Federle to help revise it for Broadway; Chris Miller and Nathan Tysen did the score. The lead producer was Beth Williams.

What were they thinking? An initial production in Atlanta was well-received; Mr. Nicholaw has a track record of commercial success; and family-friendly musicals often do well on Broadway.

Critical response Tepid, with a few exceptions. The show was nominated for one Tony, for costume design; it did not win.

Why it failed Without big stars, it had low advance sales, and some argued that its leafy logo was unhelpful. The story is a bit of a fairy tale — often hard to execute. Adults perceived it as a show for children, and family shows without the Disney imprimatur are hard to sell. “Tuck” was sweet and lovely, but those are not the adjectives a musical needed this season to be heard above the din.



03 July 2016

Re-Reading Shaw – Plays from 1885 through 1902

by Kirk Woodward

[About two months ago, Kirk Woodward wrote me that he was “going to read all six volumes of [Shaw’s] ‘Collected Plays and Prefaces.’”  He was taking notes as he read, he said, and “almost certainly have a Shaw article in my future.”  Well, a month later, Kirk sent me not one article on the great Irish playwright, but five, all based on his close reading of the six- volume Bernard Shaw: Complete Plays with Prefaces, (New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1963).  He arranged the sections in chronological order according to the years in which Shaw finished writing the plays (the years of first productions are often much later); the first installment is published below.  I’ll post the remaining four articles of “Re-Reading Shaw” over the next two months (more or less), one every couple of weeks or so.

[I see no point in telling you, even in précis, what Kirk found to say about the writings of Shaw.  As regular ROTters will know, Kirk’s a longtime fan of Shaw, even as he recognizes the playwright’s shortcomings and deficiencies.  I’ll let you all discover for yourselves what Kirk has come up with.  Besides, Kirk’s comments are all tailored to each play and its preface—though some themes do emerge.  I will add that one of the wonderful benefits of Kirk’s somewhat monumental task is that we all get to learn something about the many Shaw plays we haven’t read or seen ourselves—of several of which, I’ll admit, I’d never even heard.  Beyond that, I hope you’ll read Kirk’s remarks here with the same relish I did (it was piccalilli), and that you’ll come back for the next four installments.  ~Rick]

I’ve recently finished a lengthy and surely noteworthy task: I’ve read all six volumes of Bernard Shaw: Complete Plays with Prefaces (Dodd, Mead & Company, 1963 – from here on I will call it the Plays), including, as the introduction to the first volume says, “some sixty plays and playlets, ranging from three-page Beauty’s Duty to four-hundred page Back to Methuselah. . . . His Prefaces, Notes, Handbooks, Postscripts and other ancillary prose total almost as many words and pieces as the plays themselves.”

All in all we are talking about some 4,600 pages of material. Remarkable enough, and Shaw, of course, over the course of his long life (1954-1950), wrote a great deal more than that.

I have always enjoyed reading Shaw, but I realized that my reading was spotty: some plays I had read, some I had not, some I had only read pieces of.

My impression is that Shaw is not an academic favorite – that professors of literature tend to think of him as a journalist, an impression with some justification, since he worked as a journalist for years, a brilliant one, and the prefaces to his plays, in particular, give the impression that he writes them to promote ideas he’s got about various problems in society.

Every year or so I hurl at [the reviewers] a long play full of insidious propaganda, with a moral in every line. They never discover what I am driving at: it is always too plainly and domestically stated to be grasped by their subtle and far flung minds; but they feel that I am driving at something: probably something they had better not agree with if they value their livelihoods. (From the Preface to “The Six of Calais”)

However, although the point has been made before, it’s worth noting again that Shaw’s prefaces and plays don’t necessarily have a one-to-one relationship to each other. Occasionally a preface will clearly be written in support of a play, but frequently it either tangentially relates to the play being discussed, or it carries a polemic far beyond what the play suggests.

Eric Bentley has pointed out in his book Bernard Shaw (New Directions, 1947), for example, that although Shaw was a Socialist and frequently wrote supporting his position, there is little direct championing of Socialism in the plays themselves.

Shaw’s major rhetorical game in his prefaces is to make his points with such energy that both readers and opponents find him difficult to answer. Bentley, in his essay on Shaw in Thinking about the Playwright (Northwestern University Press, 1987), accurately writes:

The very tone of Shaw’s writings . . . shames the reader or listener into feeling he is the deluded ignoramus who needs to have his consciousness raised by this engine of enlightenment [Shaw himself]. It is odd that Shaw is held to be fond of discussion, since what his rhetoric tends to do is: put topics beyond discussion. Brilliance after all doesn’t make one see. It dazzles. Clever rhetoric bewilders.

As we go along I will note exceptions to Bentley’s comment, where Shaw’s tone in a preface is more genial, but I will also note places where his prose has the effect of a battering ram.

On, then, to the plays, in chronological order of the year their writing was completed. Shaw’s spelling and punctuation are unusual (he does not put a period after abbreviations or, often, an apostrophe in contractions); when I quote him I reproduce them.

TRIFLES AND TOMFOOLERIES is Shaw’s title for a collection of six of his short plays:

. . . there is a demand for little things as well as for big things, and . . . as I happen to have a few little things in my shop I may as well put them in the window with the rest.

He wrote a number of these. In these pieces the titles of the shorter plays will contain lower case letters.

Releasing himself now and then from the requirement to improve the world, he is able to be just a working playwright, at his most human. For example, in many of the plays he exercises his enthusiasm for silly names. My favorite, a character only referred to, is Roosenhonkers-Pipstein.

The dates after the name of each play indicate first the year in which it was written, then the year it was first performed. In Shaw’s case both dates matter: sometimes he could not get a play produced for years after it was written.

I am not aiming for completeness in these essays. To be thorough about Shaw would require a book, or more likely a library. I will simply record points that interest me. This is not, so to speak, a six month residency abroad, just a city bus tour with a chatty guide.

WIDOWERS’ HOUSES (1885-1892 / 1892) – Shaw’s first play, originally a collaboration with the drama critic William Archer, who gave Shaw a plot for a three act play that Shaw used up by early Act III. Archer didn’t like what Shaw had written and the project languished for seven years, until the newly established Independent Theatre needed material and Shaw dusted off and completed his old manuscript.

The atmosphere of the play is upper class (the first line is “Two beers for us out here”). The drama is somewhat primitive; in particular, the male lead, Dr. Trench, has a companion or confident unfortunately named Cokane who appears to exist only so people will have someone to talk to. Act III is somewhat hard to follow.

But the resolution is clear: everyone decides there is no alternative to accepting the income generated by the unscrupulous slumlord Sartorius. All of us, in other words, are at fault for poverty and its conditions. The play was performed two evenings by the Independent Theatre and caused quite a fuss.

THE PHILANDERER (1893 / 1905) – Shaw wrote in 1930 about his second play:

There is a disease to which plays as well as men become liable with advancing years. In men it is called doting, in plays dating. . . . I make no attempt to bring the play up to date. I should as soon think of bringing Ben Johnson’s [sic] Bartholomew Fair up to date by changing the fair to a Woolworth store.

With the passage of even more years, The Philanderer doesn’t seem dated at all, because it’s now definitely a period piece, and a good one.

It is a heady mix of elements: a man who effortlessly attracts women, and two women who are attracted to him; a doctor who has discovered a disease by dissecting animals, and is crushed to find that it isn’t really a disease at all and that his patient is going to live; an Ibsen Club, where the members (men and women) try to apply the Norwegian’s lessons to everyday life; and so on.

Shaw was 39 when he wrote this play, and his skill is already noteworthy. It is produced now and then, and the roles in it are terrific; actors must love to perform it. Shaw knew how to write for them.

MRS WARREN’S PROFESSION (1893-1894 / 1905) – that is, prostitution; she’s a madam, a businesswoman who provides well for her staff. If that sounds like Undershaft in Major Barbara, that’s because the situation is the same – except that in this earlier play Shaw doesn’t try to pretend that money is the only value in the world. From the preface:

Mrs Warren’s defence of herself is not only bold and specious, but valid and unanswerable. But it is no defence at all of the vice which she organizes. It is no defence of an immoral life to say that the alternative offered by society collectively to poor women is a miserable life, starved, overworked, fetid, ailing, ugly. Though it is quite natural and right for Mrs Warren to choose what is, according to her lights, the least immoral alternative, it is none the less infamous of society to offer such alternatives. For the alternatives offered are not morality and immorality, but two sorts of immorality.

At this point Shaw’s focus is humane. That will change; he will come to put systems above individuals, the very thing he originally sets out to attack.

The first act of the play briskly – too briskly – sets up the kinds of character reversals Shaw will develop throughout his writing, but they lack the clarity he will later achieve. There is an early “hidden secret” in Vivie, the daughter’s, parentage: because of her mother’s occupation, the men don’t know who her father is, so who can she safely marry?

However, this issue largely evaporates. The dramaturgy is creaky: everybody has to be brought together, everybody has to say things that set the others off, and in the last section of the play Vivie starts to sound like an automaton.

A widely repeated quotation comes from a character in this play:

I don’t believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can’t find them, make them.

This statement, like Hamlet’s “To thine own self be true,” is rousing, but it too is ironized by its context in the play, which is written to demonstrate that poor women often cannot choose their circumstances. The play raises that subject, but it doesn’t seem to me to really dramatize it.

ARMS AND THE MAN (1894) – set in Bulgaria, during and immediately after a Balkan war; but the setting is domestic, and the events so romantic that they were later turned into an operetta (The Chocolate Soldier, 1908, with music by Oscar Straus, which Shaw hated). [editor’s note: I posted a report on Arms from a visit I made to Canada’s Shaw Festival; see “Two Shaw Plays (Shaw Festival 2006),” 25 September 2012, and “The 2006 Shaw Festival (Part 2),” 11 December 2015.  ~Rick]

Some of Shaw’s plays feel like school assignments, not surprisingly since he always has a didactic purpose somewhere in mind. Arms and the Man, however, is a delightful play about the gap between ideals (that is, illusions) and facts, and it does not feel like an assignment at all. Shaw certainly never aimed to make an audience happy – heaven forbid! But I can’t think of any play that makes me happier. It is, to put it colloquially, a peach.

CANDIDA (1894-1895 / 1897) – Shaw’s continuing theme of the struggle between romantic ideals and concrete reality takes an interesting turn in this play about a romantic triangle. The three are a Christian Socialist minister; his wife, the Candida of the title; and a poet, Eugene, more than a decade younger than Candida and intensely in love with her. Eugene tries to disabuse Candida of her illusions about her husband so she will leave the minister for him.

But does she have illusions about either man? And doesn’t the poet desire her in order to replace one set of illusions with another? At the end of the play he seems – perhaps – to have found a way to live without romance. But we must figure out what that means for ourselves. Shaw subtitled the play “A Mystery.”

Shaw had a hard time getting the play produced, but once it succeeded (first in the United States, then in England) it became a sort of craze. The character Candida is charming, and more than that, she is maternal. Grown men with careers are mere babies in her hands. This fact surely has one kind of appeal to men, and another kind to women.

Candida is not the first or last play of Shaw’s we will see where the woman is wise and the men are more or less fools.

The dialogue and characterization are first rate, and there is plenty of comedy. It seems to me that the minister’s early uncertainties about his wife, and Candida’s compulsion to choose between the two men, are extreme; but the play as a whole sparkles.

It is, inevitably, one episode in the continuing saga of Shaw’s struggle with religion. Since the play is about idealistic illusions, the minister’s Christianity must be seen to be mistaken, no matter how much the minister claims to believe it (as previously occurred in Major Barbara); even his Socialism is used for laughs.

THE MAN OF DESTINY (1885 / 1897) – Shaw wrote The Man of Destiny with the famed actress Ellen Terry (1847-1928) in mind. “The man of destiny” is Napoleon, and Shaw wrote that role for Henry Irving (1838-1905), the actor-manager of London’s Lyceum Theater, where Terry was its, and Irving’s, leading lady. Irving, infuriated by things Shaw said about him in reviews, pretended for a long time to be interested in the play, strung Shaw along, and never produced it.

The description below of Lady Cicely in Captain Brassbound’s Conversion may be applied to the Lady, the role intended for Ellen Terry in The Man of Destiny, except that the Lady is nowhere near as entertaining as Lady Cicely. Neither is the play, which reads as a not very interesting attempt to write a “vehicle” for two performers, without much else going on in it – and that’s what it is.

YOU NEVER CAN TELL (1895-1896 / 1899) – Shaw was the drama reviewer for The Saturday Review when The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) opened in 1895. Shaw’s review was unenthusiastic about the play, asserting that it was heartless and that he hated being tickled into laughter.

However, it must have made an impression on Shaw, who knew Wilde and frequently promoted his work. You Never Can Tell distinctly shows the influence of Wilde’s play. The tone of the first act, and the rapid delivery necessary to play it, are distinctly Wildean, and the story shares many plot elements with Earnest.

MRS CLANDON [relentlessly] On your honor, Mr Valentine, are you in earnest?
VALENTINE [desperately] On my honor I am in earnest. Only, I have always been in earnest; and yet - ! Well, here I am, you see.
MRS CLANDON That is just what I suspected.

From the second act on, the play is more Shaw than Wilde, but it does not lose the brightness of the first act. The young people who make up the core of the play are irrepressible and outspoken, and William, the waiter, has a knack for being at exactly the right place at the right time with the right thing to say.

I saw this play performed once, years ago, and I remembered it as mostly conversation. I was wrong; there is plenty of plot. Reading the play by myself, I laughed out loud when I saw one particular plot twist coming. In fact I laughed through most of the play from there on. It is a thrill to watch a master craftsman at work.

BOHUN. . . . It’s unwise to be born; it’s unwise to be married; it’s unwise to live; and it’s wise to die.
WAITER. Then, if I may respectfully put a word in, sir, so much the worse for wisdom!

Shaw’s theme of the Life Force working through Woman makes a couple of appearances, and at this point in my reading it is hard to get excited about it, but so what. This wonderful play should be performed regularly for the sheer fun of it. And I second the last words of the play:

Cheer up, sir, cheer up. Every man is frightened of marriage when it comes to the point; but it often turns out very comfortable, very enjoyable and happy indeed, sir – from time to time. I never was master in my own house, sir; my wife was like your young lady: she was of a commanding and masterful disposition, which my son has inherited. But if I had my life to live twice over, I’d do it again: I’d do it again, I assure you. You never can tell, sir: you never can tell.

THE DEVIL’S DISCIPLE (1896-1897 / 1897) – in his earlier plays Shaw often borrowed forms of theater popular at the time, and inverted them. Here the popular form is melodrama; Shaw says he used as many elements of it as he could – the black sheep brother, the reading of the will, the downtrodden scullery maid, the threatened hanging, the last minute escape, and so on – in this play set during the American Revolution.

But the core of the play is pure Shaw: at least two people, maybe more, find out in the moment of decision who they really are, and who they are not.

The first I knew of this play was watching the 1959 film version, in which Laurence Olivier plays General Burgoyne with such style and ease that I fell in love with it. Nothing quite matches the high comedy of the Burgoyne scenes that dominate the third act of the play; but the other scenes are highly satisfactory as well.

One sentiment in the play resonates throughout Shaw’s career: “You see, men have these strange notions, Mrs Anderson; and women see the folly of them.”

CAESAR AND CLEOPATRA (1898 / 1901) – Shaw complained that Shakespeare’s Caesar says nothing at all that a great man would say. I think that statement is misleading. Shakespeare’s Caesar just doesn’t say as much as Shaw’s does.

Although Caesar is the title role and although his influence permeates Shakespeare’s play, he is actually in it only briefly. All he needs to do in order to appear “great” is to carry the name of a great person, and not say anything really stupid.

Shaw’s Caesar says:

He who has never hoped can never despair. Caesar, in good or bad fortune, looks his fate in the face.

Shakespeare’s Caesar says:

Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.

Shakespeare, it seems to me, wins that contest hands down.

The play, of course, is based on historical events. One element of Shaw’s brilliance is that out of those events he chooses the strongest and most interesting for his play. (One would think that’s de rigueur, but it’s not.)

Alan Jay Lerner borrowed the setup of the first act, where Cleopatra meets Caesar in a lonely place without knowing who he is, for the opening scene of the musical Camelot (1960), and it is the strongest scene of that musical.

Most of Caesar and Cleopatra is as entertaining today as it was over a hundred years ago. The only parts that may have dated are some of the gags – continually mispronouncing the name of Cleopatra’s frightening lady-in-waiting Ftatateeta, and characterizing Caesar’s British slave Britannus as the antecedent of a Whitehall gentleman.

Caesar is an early Shaw portrait of what he will come to call the Superman – the person who has grown past our everyday world and lives above it. Caesar is much more complex than that brief description makes it sound, but he’s a start. Caesar, Shaw says, is “simply doing what he naturally wants to do.”

CAPTAIN BRASSBOUND’S CONVERSION (1899 / 1900) – This delightful play is not often performed, perhaps because the lead role, Lady Cicely Waynflete, requires a particular type of actress to play it. I saw Ingrid Bergman in the part in a short-lived Broadway production in 1972. Ms. Bergman was lovely but entirely wrong for the part. She was all too genuine (and the rest of the production was much too unfocused).

Lady Cicely is one of Shaw’s best representations of a woman who both fascinates and frustrates: she cheerfully agrees with men on everything, while knowing that everything they say is foolishness and acting accordingly. She is maddening; but she is wonderful, and extremely funny.

“The Admirable Bashville, or, Constancy Rewarded” (1901 / 1902) was based on a novel, one of five that Shaw wrote, called Cashel Byron’s Profession, Byron’s profession being boxing. All five novels were financial failures – until Cashel Byron began to sell in the United States, causing Shaw to fear that he would lose his copyright.

He wrote “The Admirable Bashville” in a week to preserve his rights. It has an old-fashioned romantic plot, and no lesson about society’s faults to teach.

And Shaw wrote it in blank verse – because that was easier than prose, he says. As with “Cymbeline Refinished” (part 5 of this series), I don’t feel that the verse has much relation to poetry. But it keeps on coming in waves, and after a while it begins to create a kind of manic charm.

[The next section of “Re-Reading Shaw” covers the plays written between 1901 and 1909.  I hope you’ll come back to ROT in about two weeks to read the second part of Kirk’s series.]

28 June 2016

'Shuffle Along' (Redux)


On 23 May 1921, an odd little musical fillip opened at Daly’s 63rd Street Music Hall, 22 West 63rd Street in Manhattan, “a theater of no consequence on a street of no consequence” about ten blocks above the northern reaches of what’s usually considered the Broadway theater district.  (Between Central Park West and Broadway, Daly’s was about 1½ blocks east of where Lincoln Center now stands, in the neighborhood of slums and tenements where, four decades later, West Side Story was filmed before it was razed by New York City’s master builder, Robert Moses, to make way for the performing arts complex.)  Off the beaten track for commercial theater, there wasn’t much in the show that marked it as even a modest hit: it had a silly plot on which to string its music, but oooh! that music and the dances that went with them.  By the time the curtain came down on the première of Shuffle Along, it was a certifiable smash by any standards of the day.  The début production—there would be revivals and national tours—closed on 15 July 1922 after 484 performances in an era when long runs were unknown.  (The remake says there were 504 performances, but I don’t know where the discrepancy comes from.  Adding the total performances from the 1921, ’33, and ’52 productions comes to 505.  Though the production’s promotional literature specifies the 504 figure was the New York run, perhaps it actually includes the performances in Shuffle Along’s test runs outside the city.)

The expectations Shuffle Along defied started with its cast—all African-American performers.  In the early years of the 20th century, that was exceedingly rare.  Institutional and deliberate racism and a paternalistic attitude toward African Americans by white society took an immense toll on the show’s creators and performers.  Among other issues with which they had to contend was the tradition that black performers had to appear in blackface, a common but disturbing aspect of the era, because blacks weren’t accepted as genuine human beings on stage; by the same token, a love song or realistic romantic relationship between black characters was unacceptable to white audiences—the actors could actually be tarred and feathered by angry spectators—until Shuffle Along braved the potential backlash.  (Though Shuffle Along overcame these potential problems, they weren’t erased and some of the play’s follow-up was caused by white America’s innate bigotry—though, as the remake makes clear, some was also generated by the prickly personality conflicts among the four creative artists.)

Beyond that, it was the first piece of theater in the United States that became a general success, meaning with white audiences, that was written by black artists.  The book of Shuffle Along was the creation of two black vaudevillians, F. E. (Flournoy) Miller (1885-1971) and Aubrey Lyles (1884-1932), based on one of their comedy sketches, “The Mayor of Jimtown.”  The jazz score was composed by the song-writing team of James Hubert (Eubie) Blake (1887-1983), who wrote the music, and Noble Sissle (1889-1975), lyrics.  No one had seen anything like Shuffle Along before; even the great “black” musicals of the coming decades were created by white writers and composers: Porgy and Bess (1935), music by George Gershwin, lyrics by Ira Gershwin and DuBose Heyward, and book by Heyward; Cabin in the Sky (1940), music by Vernon Duke, lyrics by John Latouche, and book by Lynn Root.  (I saw an Encores! concert performance of Cabin last winter and posted a report on ROT on 23 February 2016.  Some history, including a mention of Shuffle Along, appears in that report.) 

F. E. (Flournoy) Miller and Aubrey Lyles, a pair of Tennesseans (Miller from Columbia and Lyles from Jackson), met as students at Nashville’s Fisk University, where Lyles was studying medicine. They launched their performing careers while at school, but in 1905, the duo were hired as resident playwrights for the African-American Pekin Theater Stock Company in Chicago where they introduced the characters of Steve Jenkins and Sam Peck (the roles they played in Shuffle Along).  They went to New York in 1909 and began performing in vaudeville and by 1912, they had become the vaudeville duo of Miller and Lyles and were touring the United States. In 1915, they traveled to England to perform.  Their blackface comedy act consisted of Southern small-town humor and dance sequences.  Shuffle Along, the ground-breaking musical they created with Sissle and Blake, ran until 1924 and Miller and Lyles went on to write plays and make recordings, but the act broke up in 1928.  The performers reunited to appear on radio.  After Lyles’s death from tuberculosis at 48, Miller became increasingly engaged in the film business, moving to Hollywood to write and act in many motion pictures from the 1930s to the 1950s, including several black Westerns.  He died in Hollywood at age 86.

Jazz composer, lyricist, bandleader, singer, and playwright Noble Sissle, son of a minister and a school teacher, was born in Indianapolis.  As a youth, he sang in the choir of his father’s church and in his high school glee club before attending DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana, and then Butler University in Indianapolis.  He left college to devote himself to music full time.  Just before the World War I armistice, Sissle joined the famed 369th Infantry Regiment, the Harlem Hellfighters, and performed as a singer, violinist, and drum major with the regimental band under ragtime and jazz bandleader Lt. James Reese Europe, mustering out after the war as a second lieutenant.  He continued with Europe’s civilian successor of the band where he worked with pianist-composer Blake.  The two musicians had met in 1915 in Baltimore, where Blake was born.  They started writing songs together and eventually appeared in vaudeville as the Dixie Duo before moving on to playwriting.  In 1923, following the success of Shuffle Along, the duo appeared in two sound films featuring songs on which the pair had collaborated.  Sissle made other films into the ’30s and in 1954 signed with Loew’s Theatre Organization to appear as a disc jockey at one of its radio stations on which he featured the music of African-American artists; he died at 86 in Tampa, Florida. 

Blake, born in 1887 according to official records (though he insisted it was 1883) to parents who’d been born into slavery, started music training when he was as young as four or five.  He was declared a musical prodigy but began his paying career as a pianist, unbeknownst to his parents, at a Baltimore brothel at 15.  He claims that he composed his first piece of music, “Charleston Rag,” in 1899, when he  12, but he didn’t yet know how to write music so it wasn’t written down until 1915.  In 1912, he joined Europe’s Society Orchestra (which played for the dance team of Vernon and Irene Castle) and after the World War, Blake rejoined Europe and his pre-war colleague Sissle until the two musicians formed their vaudeville act and went on to write songs and musical shows.  Twice-married, Blake was also known, much to his wives’ chagrin, as a ladies’ man; it became an open secret among the Shuffle Along company that the composer was in love with his leading lady, Lottie Gee (1886-1973), who also had considerable influence on the content of the musical.  (It was Gee who insisted that “I’m Just Wild About Harry” be rearranged from a waltz to an up-beat one-step.)  After Shuffle Along, Blake joined Sissle in the films that featured their work and a third of his own compositions.  Blake played for the USO during World War II and, after enrolling in New York University in 1946 (at the age of 59) when his career was diminishing, he saw the interest in ragtime pick up again in the ’50s and his career along with it, culminating in the 1978 Broadway revue of his songs, Eubie!, which ran for 439 performances (and was filmed in 1981).  He appeared on numerous television shows in the ’70s (including Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show and Saturday Night Live) and received many honors, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom from Pres. Ronald Reagan in 1981.  Blake died at 96 (or 100, if you take his word for it) in Brooklyn.  (ROT contributor Kirk Woodward mentions seeing Blake perform in his article “Some Of That Jazz,” posted on 7 June 2015.)

According to the website for Shuffle Along, Or, The Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All That Followed, which revisits the 1921 hit, songwriters Sissle and Blake and vaudevillians Miller and Lyles learned of each other from bandleader Europe.  The two teams met at an NAACP benefit in Philadelphia in 1920, and Miller and Lyles thought that one of their sketches, “The Mayor of Jimtown,” could become a full-length musical.  Though none of the four had ever written a musical play before or worked on Broadway, the result of their maiden collaboration was Shuffle Along.    

Among the play’s gifts was the hit tune “I’m Just Wild About Harry,” Shuffle’s most famous song (borrowed by Harry S Truman as the theme song for his 1948 presidential run), and the ballad “Love Will Find a Way” (of which the opening-night audience demanded an encore).  During Shuffle Along’s run, future black stars such as Josephine Baker, Paul Robeson, Florence Mills, Fredi Washington, and Adelaide Hall appeared on the Daly’s stage; the orchestra included future symphony and opera composer William Grant Still and Nat “King” Cole was a pianist on a national tour.  In the weeks that followed the opening, New York theatergoers from all over the city beat a path to Daly’s.  “It seemed to attract this highbrow/lowbrow, uptown/downtown phenomenon,” observed George C. Wolfe, director of the new re-examination of the play.  Among the ticket-seekers were so many fellow actors that Shuffle Along scheduled a midnight performance on Wednesdays so they could see the show.  The traffic along the upper-west side street became so heavy that the city had to make 63rd a one-way street.  

Among the famous figures who came to see the phenomenon were then-novice poet Langston Hughes, George Gershwin, singer-actress Ethel Waters, singer-movie star Al Jolson, Ziegfeld Follies comedienne Fanny Brice, esteemed African-American actor Charles Gilpin, and renowned theater critic George Jean Nathan.  A persistent tale, of which the new re-examination makes a major point, was that Gershwin stole riffs from Blake to create “I Got Rhythm” in a case of cultural appropriation.  Audiences at Shuffle Along were mixed, but the theater still segregated the spectators by race in the auditorium, even though they mingled in the lobby and the aisles during intermission and after the performance.  According to Wolfe, Shuffle Along was “the catalyst” for “different worlds . . . meeting on that stage, and backstage, and there was this connection.  And some people credit it with creating this energy in downtown culture at the time, where there was this phenomenon of slumming and going to Harlem.”

In the story of Shuffle Along, two crooked grocery store owners, Sam Jenkins (Lyles—in blackface) and Steve Peck (Miller—ditto) run for mayor of all-black Jimtown, Dixieland (“Election Day”).  (The two characters of Sam and Steve were longtime vaudeville personae of Lyles and Miller.)  The business partners promise each other that the winner will appoint the other police chief.  Honest Harry Walton (Roger Matthews), their opposing candidate for mayor (“I’m Just Wild About Harry”), pledges to put an end to the corruption, but he refuses to engage in his opponents’ dirty tactics and loses.  Harry’s engaged to the lovely Jessie Williams (Lottie Gee), but her father (Paul Floyd) won’t allow them to marry unless Harry wins the election (“Love Will Find a Way”).  Sam’s elected with assistance from Jimtown’s vote-buying political  boss, Tom Sharper (Sissle), and keeps his promise to make Steve chief of police.  The two politicians, however, quarrel over all kinds of things and they resolve their disagreements with an extended comic fight-ballet (“Jimtown’s Fisticuffs”).  Sam and Steve continue to  argue until their dishonesty and thievery is exposed by Jack Penrose, a New York detective known as “Keeneye” (Lawrence Deas), hired by Sharper.  Harry’s named the new mayor and runs Sam and Steve out of town. 

The show was interspersed with comedy blackouts and songs in front of the curtain essentially used to cover set changes.  (It was also rife with both black and rural Southern stereotyped behavior, jokes, and minstrelsy, including characters named Uncle Tom and Old Black Joe.)  The end of the performance has no dialogue after Harry’s inauguration, but Blake, who conducted the orchestra in 1921, came on stage and, joined by Sissle, stepping out of his role as Sharper, did a set of whatever they wanted from their songbook.  After the impromptu concert, Blake would return to the orchestra and Sissle resumed his role as Tom Sharper for the finale (“African Dip”).

After its initial New York run, Shuffle Along went out on tour, playing in Boston and Chicago and then continuing across the country to Milwaukee, Des Moines, Peoria, Indianapolis, St. Louis, Toledo, Grand Rapids, Detroit, Buffalo, Rochester, Philadelphia, and Atlantic City.  Still performing before mixed audiences, Shuffle Along did what no African-American show had dared in what were usually whites-only theaters. 

(Before the New York opening, Miller, Lyles, Sissle, and Blake previewed some of their songs for producer John Cort, 1859-1929, with the help of manager Al Mayer of the Nikko Producing Company, Shuffle Along’s production company.  Cort, for whom Broadway’s present-day Cort Theatre is named, was so taken by “Love Will Find a Way” that he financed a two-month tour to try the show out on the road, the company’s first performances before paying audiences.  Without scenery and using costumes pulled from stock, the show started in New Jersey, moved on to Washington, D.C., and Maryland, and concluded with a series of one-night stands in Pennsylvania.

(On a personal and nostalgic note, I was thrilled during Shuffle Along, Or, The Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All That Followed, the reexamination of the 1921 hit, when D.C.’s Howard Theatre came up as the venue for the performance of Shuffle Along in Washington.  When I was a boy, my dad’s company, District Theatres Corporation, owned the Howard—though not until after World War II.  Long converted to a movie house, it still did a live show in those days: concerts by the likes of Pearl Bailey, Ella Fitzgerald, Sammy Davis, and native Washingtonian Duke Ellington, or comedy shows with “Moms” Mabley, “Pigmeat” Markham—in his first and second careers—and Redd Foxx.  I did a post on the two historical flagships of the company, “Lincoln & Howard Theatres: Stages of History,” 2 December 2011.)

Five-time Tony-winning director and producer George C. Wolfe (Angels in America: Millennium Approaches, 1993; Angels in America: Perestroika, 1994 – Best Play; Bring in ’da Noise, Bring in ’da Funk, 1996; Elaine Stritch At Liberty, 2002 – Best Special Theatrical Event; Take Me Out, 2003 – Best Play) began piecing together the story of how Shuffle Along came to be, having discovered that pretty much all the facts other than its historic run and some now-famous names had been lost to the footnotes of the history of the American musical.  There’d been a couple of revivals of Shuffle Along, but neither had been remotely successful: one in 1933 ran 17 performances and one in 1952 ran 4.  So Wolfe decided he had to do something different to bring this important piece of theater history back to the public’s consciousness.  Featuring the original show’s music and lyrics by Blake and Sissle, and a new book by Wolfe inspired by the 1921 text by Miller and Lyles, the new Shuffle Along, Or, The Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All That Followed (a title way too  long to be this report’s headline!) simultaneously tells the backstage story of Shuffle Along’s creation—and how it changed the theater world it found when it arrived on Broadway. 

Born in Frankfort, Kentucky, Wolfe, 61, is also a playwright and lyricist, having penned the books for 1992’s Jelly’s Last Jam and 2000’s The Wild Party, in addition to Shuffle Along: The Making (as I’ll call the new show for short to distinguish it from the original musical), and the lyrics for Bring in ’da Noise, Bring in ’da Funk in 1996 (which he also conceived).  He studied theater at Pomona College in Claremont, California, and then got an MFA from the dramatic writing program of New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts in 1983.  After writing his first play, Tribal Rites, or The Coming of the Great God-bird Nabuku to the Age of Horace Lee Lizer (which the playwright described as “some sort of homage to Abraham Lincoln”), while teaching in inner-city Los Angeles (it was produced in L.A. in 1977), he had some success Off-Broadway in New York with the musical (with composer Robert Forrest) Paradise (1985, Playwrights Horizons) and the play The Colored Museum (1986, Joseph Papp Public Theater); in 1989, Wolfe won an Obie for best Off-Broadway director for his adaptation of three Zora Neale Hurston tales in Spunk (Joseph Papp Public Theater). 

Wolfe leapt to national renown in 1991 with his L.A. staging of Jelly’s Last Jam, a musical about ragtime and jazz pianist, composer, and bandleader Jelly Roll Morton with Gregory Hines in the title role, which moved to Broadway in 1992 and garnered 11 Tony nominations.  That was followed in 1993 by his Tony-winning production of the first part of Tony Kushner’s Angels in America and in 1994 by the second part.  From 1993 to 2004, Wolfe served as artistic director of the New York Shakespeare Festival/Public Theater (the second successor to founder Joseph Papp).  While in that post, Wolfe created Bring In ’da Noise, Bring In ’da Funk with young Savion Glover (1995), which moved to Broadway in  ’96.  In 2000, he co-wrote the book and directed the Broadway production of Michael John LaChiusa’s The Wild Party.  After leaving NYSF to pursue film directing, Wolfe staged many New York productions, including the 2002 Pulitzer Prize-winner by Suzan-Lori Parks, Topdog/Underdog, at the Public in 2001 and on Broadway in 2002.  He’s active in civil and human rights causes and was installed in the American Theater Hall of Fame in 2013. 

Shuffle Along: The Making started previews at the Music Box Theatre on West 45th Street, west of Broadway, on 15 March and opened on 28 April for an open-ended commercial run.  It was nominated for 10 Tony Awards, including Best Musical, but won none.  It did win four Drama Desk Awards, including Outstanding Musical, out of seven nominations, and the New York Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Musical.  My friend Kirk Woodward, his daughter Erin, and I saw the new musical on Wednesday evening, 15 June.  (The show’s producers have announced Shuffle Along: The Making’s unexpected closing for 24 July; see my exit comments below.)

It’s substantially from this historical material that director and book-writer Wolfe composed the narrative of Shuffle Along, Or, The Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All That Followed.  Wolfe’s intent is to demonstrate the historic and social importance of the original creation and its phenomenal success to modern American theater and culture, and black history.  He wants then to go on and examine “how something could go from so significant to ending up as someone’s footnote.”  The director/book-writer asserts that Shuffle Along “just seems to me this seed from which a whole lot of other things sprang forth. So when you’re in the historical moment the show is set in, you feel you’re in that moment, but you’re also in 2016 . . . .”  

Act one of the new meta-musical is the backstage saga of “the making” of 1921’s Shuffle Along, and act two is “all that followed,” covering both the response by the American theater and the American public and the after-history of the artists involved in the sensation that was Shuffle Along.  (The original Miller-Lyles “Mayor of Jimtown” plot of Shuffle Along was jettisoned, which is clearly why the 2016 Tony committee wouldn’t let Shuffle Along: The Making compete as a revival.  Aside from the Blake-Sissle score, this is an entirely new play, telling a totally different story from its 1921 source.)

The act one-act two split is why I found myself a little disturbed by the ending—really the whole second act.  It’s such a downer—nothing but disputes, rivalries, jealousy, break-ups, bad luck—and finally deaths.  After the exuberance of act one, it’s a come-down.  Given the material Wolfe’s working with—the history and the aftermath of Shuffle Along—I don’t see what else he could have done—but I wonder if there isn’t some other route he could have taken than the one he chose.  I get that this is part of his point—he feels that Shuffle Along, and especially the creative and participating artists, have been forgotten by theater and cultural history (as critic and patron of the Harlem Renaissance Carl Van Vechten, 1880-1964, played by Brooks Ashmanskas, sings prophetically to the show’s creators towards the end of the play: “They won’t remember you!”)—but maybe that isn’t the only way to conclude the play.  I’m no playwright, so I don’t know what else a writer might come up with—but just because something’s true doesn’t mean you have to use it in the play (or novel or movie, or whatever).  I said something very similar with regard to John Patrick Shanley’s Prodigal Son (see my report on 28 February 2016), and George Bernard Shaw, who knew a thing or two about playwriting, wrote (in his preface to “The Six of Calais”): “Life as we see it is so haphazard that it is only by picking out its key situations and arranging them in their significant order (which is never how they actually occur) that it can be made intelligible.”  (I note here that Kirk Woodward has written a five-part response to all Shaw’s plays and prefaces, which he read in one sitting, and which I’ll be posting in installments shortly on this blog.  This statement, one of two Kirk quotes on the same point, is in the last section of Kirk’s series, which will be entitled “Re-Reading Shaw.”)  In any case, I haven’t decided how I feel, as a consumer, about this ending.  I’m unsettled, so to speak. 

I reported that Kirk and his daughter were my companions for this show, and naturally we’ve talked about it some afterwards.  When I raised these second thoughts about the play’s ending, Kirk, who is a playwright (including of musicals), responded, “It seemed to me that the structure of Shuffle Along[:The Making] resembles that of [Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine’s 1986] Into the Woods.  In the first act adversity is overcome and everyone is exhilarated at the end of the act.  In the second act, trouble—a giant, or envy and competition—enters the picture and the whole thing turns gloomy.”  I hadn’t considered this structural parallel (I haven’t seen Into the Woods since 1988), but Kirk continued, “I also think that Wolfe is committed to educating his audience, and finds it almost impossible to finish with a ‘happy ending.’”  A bit later, he added, “I’m afraid he just feels the burden of history too heavily to, for example, let the show end with its opening (if the musical could have been stretched out that long—this is just theory).”

I’d been thinking the same thing about Wolfe’s tendencies.  But as I said, just because it happened in history doesn’t mean it has to be part of the play.  It’s not, however, that it ruined the performance for me.  It just bothers me a little—dramaturgically.  Shuffle Along: The Makings hardly a documentary play (though a couple of reviewers did use that term to label it), but one of the criticisms of that form is that it’s often better history/current events than it is drama/theater. (I wrote an article on the documentary play, “Performing Fact: The Documentary Drama,” in which I touch on this issue.  The article was posted on 9 October 2009.)  Wolfe’s proclivity, if Kirk and I are right in parsing it, may fall into that trap.  (I gather, however, that Lin-Manuel Miranda’s mega-hit Hamilton doesn’t go there—if the audience and critical response is any indication.)

The work of Shuffle Along: The Making—especially the “presentation” (I haven’t come up with a better word yet)—is terrific.  I like the presentational style (to use the same word in a different sense) and the “present reference” (as when Lottie Gee/Audra McDonald talks directly to the band in the pit) a lot.  I don’t know if Wolfe meant it to—I suspect he did—but it was reminiscent to me of vaudeville itself (which is where Lyles, Miller, Blake, and Sissle all came from, of course).

By presentation I mean more than just the staging.  It’s the aggregate of Wolfe’s directing, Savion Glover’s magnificent choreography, the acting, acting style, and ensemble work, all as an expression and out-growth of the staging concept—the “look” Wolfe conceived above and beyond the stage design (Santo Loquasto’s scenery, Ann Roth’s costumes, Scott Lehrer’s sound, Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer’s lighting—all of which are evocative, witty, and delightful) in coordination with the musical direction of Shelton Becton.  It’s the way Wolfe and his whole team stage the material, the way they show it to us.  Part of that concept is the presentational style of performance, which includes direct address to the audience or the breaking of the fourth wall, the theater expression that means that instead of the audience and the performers being in separate planes, with the dimensional “wall” across the proscenium opening, the actors and the play lower that barrier and relate to us in real time and space, as if we’re all in the same room.  (The opposite style is “representational,” meaning that the actor’s inhabit their characters and aren’t present as performers or for us as people.  They exist in a world into which we can see—that fourth wall is, of course, invisible—but in which we can’t participate.) 

Another manifestation of the presentation style Wolfe and his company devised is what I called present reference, defined as a character’s acknowledgment of people, objects, or actions on stage with them.  (Present reference is one of the connective devices I discuss in “Theatrical Structure,” 15 and 18 February 2011.)  It draws us into the real-time event occurring on stage while were in the theater with the performers (that is, the performance), rather than watching a representation of events, real or fictional, that occurred at some time in the past and are being recreated for our consumption.  It’s a way of nudging us to look critically at the actions being demonstrated for us, in this case the creation of 1921’s Shuffle Along and its aftermath, rather than becoming emotionally absorbed into a fiction and abandoning our objectivity.  (For those who haven’t already tumbled to it, these are Brechtian practices, but they’ve been incorporated into mainstream staging techniques.)

In terms of performances, Shuffle Along: The Making is an odd duck.  The cast’s loaded with stars, emerging stars, and A-list Broadway actors—Brian Stokes Mitchell (2000 Tony and Drama Desk Awards for Kiss Me Kate) is Miller, Brandon Victor Dixon (2004 Tony and Drama Desk Awards for Hedwig and the Angry Inch) is Blake, Joshua Henry (2007 Drama Desk Award for In the Heights) is Sissle, Audra McDonald (6 Tonys—a record, 5 Drama Desks, 1 Theatre World) as Lottie Gee, and Brooks Ashmanskas (2007 Tony and Drama Desk nominations for Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me) plays an assortment of very important figures in the history—which isn’t a common pathway to ensembleness.  Yet that’s what Wolfe and his troupe have wrought—and it’s fabulous to see.  (Billy Porter, who usually portrays Aubrey Lyles, was ably replaced the evening we saw Shuffle Along: The Making by Arbender Robinson, Porter’s understudy.)  Despite their distinction as “stars,” these five actors blended in splendidly with each other and the rest of the company, who each often stood out as one or another of the several characters they played in the Shuffle Along saga. 

Additionally the performance of Shuffle Along, Or, The Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All That Followed is such a whirlwind of action, dancing, singing, and scenes (some short, some extended—Shuffle Along: The Making is a 2¾-hour performance with one intermission) that it’s difficult to spotlight any single performance.  If forced, I’d have to note Mitchell’s suave yet earnest F. E. Miller and McDonald’s monumentally talented and confident leading lady, Lottie Gee.  (In McDonald’s hands, Gee’s scene with replacement actress Florence Mills, 1895-1927, played by Adrienne Warren, training her how to put across a song the right way, is endearing—and not a little daunting.  Not long before seeing Shuffle Along: The Making, I watched the actress’s portrait of Billie Holiday in the HBO broadcast of Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar & Grill and the difference between her assured Gee and the disintegrating Holiday is remarkable.) 

I can’t really write a report on this show without at least mentioning Glover’s choreography.  Glover, of course, has been a dance phenom since he first tapped onto the scene in The Tap Dance Kid (1983) when he was 10.  Not only is his dance style exciting and powerful, with his signature loud, hard taps, but he passes this power along to his dancers, whether they’re students he’s teaching (which he’s done since he was 14 in Newark, New Jersey) or pros he’s choreographing, as here.  (Glover had to invent his own dances for Shuffle Along: The Making, which make no pretense of hewing to period style, since the dances of Lawrence Deas, the original’s choreographer, have been lost.)  He’s also learned, as exemplified in Bring In ’da Noise, how to make tap, traditionally used in theater to invoke high spirits and exuberance, express some more complex emotions like anger, pain, and sorrow.  You can’t really miss Glover’s hand (or foot) in the dances of Shuffle Along: The Making—his tapping is uniquely his own, and works so well with this production.  (Of course, he and Wolfe have a long history of collaboration starting in 1992 with his performance as Young Jelly in Jelly’s Last Jam, so their names are sort of linked, at least in my mind.  In a move that’s now obviated, Glover was slated to join the cast of Shuffle Along: The Making on stage on 26 July, though his role in the musical had not been determined.)

Based on a survey of 46 reviews, Show-Score gave Shuffle Along: The Making an average of 84, with 87% positive notices, 13% mixed, and just 2% negative.  That’s not a surprising spread, given the quality of the work.  Let’s see what the reviewers have said.

Among the highest-scoring notices was Elysa Gardner’s in USA Today, in which she declared that despite what might be called the Hamilton Effect, Shuffle Along: The Making “qualifies” as “an event.”  (Gardner went on to quip: “. . . and not just for the length of its title.”)  Asserted Gardner, “The stars, all excellent, provide portraits that are at once recognizably human and lavishly entertaining” and the production “also benefits, greatly, from the exuberant gifts of choreographer Savion Glover.”  In the end, the USA Today reviewer labeled Shuffle Along: The Making “exhilarating” as a “tribute” that “burns . . . brightly.”  Also high in Show-Score’s survey was the New York edition of London’s Financial Times in which Max McGuinness wrote that the “Pirandellian meta-musical is at once an old-fashioned all-singing, all-dancing extravaganza and a thoughtful meditation on the history of race relations.”  And while McGuinness characterized Mitchell’s F. E. Miller as “Sidney Poitier-esque” (clearly meant as a compliment, but I wonder how welcome to Mitchell), the FT review-writer proclaimed that “[a]mid an all-round impressive ensemble,” the “real star power comes from Audra McDonald” who displays “infectious exuberance and sass.”  McGuinness did single out Ashmanskas “for the dexterity with which he performs all of the white parts.”  Overall, the reviewer for the Pink ’Un found, “Wolfe lays on the exposition a little thick at times.  But his Shuffle is a courageous work on many levels.”  In his assessment, McGuinness reported, as I have: “In a breach with musical convention, there is no happy ending.”

In the Wall Street Journal, several rungs lower on the ratings ladder, Terry Teachout made this comparison: “The first half of George C. Wolfe’s ‘Shuffle Along’ is to 2016 what ‘Hamilton’ was to 2015: It’s the musical you’ve got to see, even if you’ve got to hock your Maserati to pay for the ticket.”  Teachout styled the cast “as charismatic as you’d expect,” praising Glover’s “near-nonstop choreography,” which the WSJ reviewer reported “explodes off the stage with the unrelenting impact of a flamethrower.”  He shifted gears after intermission, however, when “what had looked like a masterpiece goes flat and stays that way.”  Having “tried to cram two different but related shows onto the same stage,” Teachout asserted, Wolfe’s “problem is that the first act . . . is so viscerally entertaining that you can’t help but feel disappointed when the dancing stops and the talking starts.”  The review-writer felt that “the entire second half feels like an epilogue, an hour-long dying fall, and by the time it’s over, the sense of letdown is palpable throughout the theater.”  In Teachout’s estimation, “The fault lies in Mr. Wolfe’s understandable desire to tell the story of ‘Shuffle Along,’” which “has led him to stuff us up with too much information.”  Despite this drawback, the Wall Streeter insisted, the show has “countless excellences,” especially Glover’s “tap-driven choreography.”  Shuffle Along: The Making’s “a pure ensemble show, so none of the performances stands out from the whole, but all of them are comprehensively satisfying.”  If Wolfe “failed to weld the parts of ‘Shuffle Along’ into a convincing whole,” nevertheless, “his directorial touch is otherwise as sure as ever.”

In the Guardian, one of the lowest-ranked reviews on Show-Score, Alexis Soloski described Shuffle Along: The Making as “sometimes inspired and sometimes listless” with some scenes “dramatic, some didactic.”  Shuffle Along: The Making “comes to seem as much a lecture-demonstration as a drama.”: 

Wolfe’s script dispenses with Miller and Lyle’s contribution almost entirely.  (As the book relies on caricature, blackface, and elements of minstrelsy, one can see why.)  This devalues the book in favor of the songs—though Wolfe also wisely elides some of the less palatable numbers, like Uncle Tom, Old Black Joe and Oriental Blues—and undermines the argument for the importance of the collaboration among these four men.

Furthermore, Wolfe’s production, said Soloski, “is only intermittently successful as art and diversion” as it’s “sometimes edifying and sometimes entertaining, but rarely do these twin aims coincide.”  The Guardian reviewer concluded, however, that “when the feet are tapping, the fringe is swaying and the voices of the leads and chorus are celebrating the thrill of syncopation . . . the musical lives again.”

The New York Times’ Ben Brantley called Shuffle Along: The Making a “tart and sweet, bubbly and flat, intoxicating and sobering concoction” which, he said, “has been suffering from an identity crisis.”  Is it “old or new?” asked Brantley, answering, “. . . both, though not in the ways you might expect.”  The “old-as-the-Rialto story line”—the tale of “those beat-the-odds showbiz soaps,” as the Timesman put it—“is . . . what’s new,” but it’s also “what feels stalest.”  It’s the singing and dancing, though, that “makes the reincarnated ‘Shuffle Along’ one of the season’s essential tickets.”  Unfortunately, Shuffle Along: The Making “time-travels with plenty of baggage, which Mr. Wolfe unpacks with pedagogical annotations and sentimental mistiness.”  Brantley reported, “Often you sense that Mr. Wolfe has a checklist of historic points he must, but must, cover before the show’s end.” These “Wikipedia-style biographical summaries delivered to the audience” are “clunky, shoehorned-in exposition,” but they don’t “overwhelm the sweeping grace of ‘Shuffle Along’ whenever it sings or dances.”  The Times reviewer had great praise for all the lead performers, though he singled out McDonald as “a one-woman time machine de luxe,” but he added that they “all more or less manage to bend their distinctive charismas into the sinuous contours of early Broadway jazz.”  In Long Island’s Newsday, Linda Winer declared that Shuffle Along: The Making, which she “bottom-lined” as “Extraordinary, talent-stuffed musical history,” “is not a conventional show,” adding, “Nor should it be.”  The musical’s “a bold and wistful, playful and important musical-about-a-musical.  It is overstuffed with ambition and talent, sure, but why shouldn’t it be?”  In a show with “dual missions—education and entertainment, . . . there is a lot of exposition, a few too many back stories and, every so often, the narrative inertia of an illustrated history.”  Then the Newsday reviewer went on, “But what illustrations these are—choreographed for the terrific dancing chorus by Savion Glover.”  With lavish compliments for both the cast and the design team, Winer concluded, “It is hard to imagine a better group than this one, finally, to tell the world about ‘Shuffle Along.’”

Joe Dziemianowicz of the New York Daily News felt that Shuffle Along: The Making “dazzles like no other show this season—but it also disappoints,” despite “an all-star cast and a bang-up group of hot-footed hoofers.”  Reported Dziemianowicz, “When the cast is singing and tearing up the floor with choreographer Savion Glover’s muscular and thrilling tap-dancing it’s pure unmitigated heaven,” but he went on to complain that “between numbers, biographies are sketched out and behind-the-scenes blow-by-blows are shared” which “turns entertainment into dull lecture hall.”  The Daily News  review-writer explained “Stretches of hearing ‘and then we wrote’ and ‘then we went to Baltimore’ are a drag.”  With praise for the cast, especially McDonald, Dziemianowicz ended by observing, “Even though the narration lacks drama, the tap-happy new show gleams with ambition and topnotch talent.”  In amNewYork, Matt Windman also raised the question of whether Shuffle Along: The Making “is a new musical or a revival” and then stated, “Whether old or new, it is a hot mess of the highest caliber—a dazzling and dizzying documentary mixed with star turns, syncopated rhythms, stylish attire, fierce tap-dancing and weak subplots.”  Windman described the experience as “like climbing aboard a rocket that doesn’t stop spinning” as “‘Shuffle Along’ throws at its audience nonstop sound and fury and historical detail.”  He complained that “the storytelling is chaotic and choppy, and the characters are painted in broad strokes” and added that act two “comes off as superfluous.”  Suggesting that “something so experimental and ambitious needs more development,” Windman acknowledged, “Still, there’s no denying its thrills and palpable excitement.” 

Christopher Kelly of  NJ Advance Media, publisher of the Newark Star-Ledger, characterizing Shuffle Along: The Making as “a kind of Broadway version of VH1’s ‘Behind the Music,’” described it as a “proudly flashy, impressively ambitious show.”  Kelly felt that the musical “sometimes bites off more than it can chew” and that with six principal characters, “keeping track of their assorted backstories and rivalries proves daunting.”  While the “first act is a particularly fluid dramatization and distillation of a tremendous amount of historical information, presented through a series of razzle-dazzle, tap-heavy production numbers . . ., the second act seems to meander—until the show abruptly concludes with a ‘where are they now’-style epilogue.”  The Jersey reviewer reported that Wolfe assembles “a dream team” of a company that performs with “unadulterated joy,” but while he “does a fine job conveying the social and cultural complexities” of Shuffle Along, “some of the essence of the source material is lost.”  The New York Post’s Elisabeth Vincentelli promised that Shuffle Along: The Making’s not “an earnest history lesson,” but “a crackling, high-energy tribute to the joys of creating entertainment.”  The musical remake “packs in an inordinate amount of music . . . and dance,” wrote Vincentelli.  “You’re always looking forward to what choreographer Savion Glover will come up with next, and his set pieces here are just thrillingly fun.”  The Post reviewer reported, “The pace doesn’t flag until sometime in the second act,” and the show ends “on a bittersweet note, though without dimming the immense joys that preceded.”

In the New Yorker’s “Goings On About Town” section, the reviewer, calling the production a “razzle-dazzle history lesson,” described Shuffle Along: The Making as “one showstopper after another” with “sumptuous costumes . . . and sets.”  The New Yorker writer noted, “Though he tries to avoid making a musicalized PBS special, Wolfe finds much importance, but too little drama, in his behind-the-scenes story,” though the anonymous writer found that “his stagecraft is insurmountable.”  With a “a fine design team, and a dream cast,” wrote the Village Voice’s Elizabeth Zimmer, the “wonderful thing about Shuffle Along, or, The Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All That Followed . . . is that it’s about working, about creating jobs for folks who couldn’t get good ones.”  In Wolfe’s production, the “talent keeps coming at you.  There’s strong music and movement by a crackerjack ensemble . . . and blizzards of Glover’s tap choreography, historically on point and inventive.”  Zimmer was so impressed with the production’s designers that “[a]fter a few minutes I stowed my notes and surrendered to the sensory overload,” even though “[t]here’s not much of a book.”  She noted, “The structure is a picaresque: one crisis after another, a chronology rather than a web of connections between people with real feelings.”  Furthermore, Zimmer found, “Act II unspools with a dying fall.”

Shuffle Along: The Making “is explosive not simply in the auditory sense,” proclaimed Jesse Green in New York magazine, “though the shattering artillery onslaught of Savion Glover’s choreography may ring in your ears . . . forever.”  Act one, said Green in one of Show-Score’s highest-rated notices, may make you “feel that the outer show . . . is one of the best old-fashioned entertainments—tunes, dances, comedy, costumes, the whole hotcha package—to hit Broadway in years,” but, the man from New York explained, Wolfe “has been preparing you from the start for Act Two: the ominous ‘All That Followed,’” in which he “lets the story elements peter out.”  Wolfe’s argument “about cultural appropriation” that occupies act two “is theatricalized quite stunningly,” using all the director’s “passion and accumulated know-how.”  The New York reviewer praised Shuffle Along: The Making as “expertly staged,” and was especially impressed that it was “lit gorgeously—often terrifyingly.”  He described act two as “a series of solo psychodramas in song,” each of which Wolfe makes “a powerful statement of suffering.”  Green continued, however, that “this is almost too much undramatized richness, without enough context to help us understand” and concluded that “if Act Two sometimes seems like a PowerPoint presentation, with astonishing slides but bullet-point arguments, the show as a whole is nevertheless revolutionary theater.”

The Hollywood Reporter’s David Rooney declared of Shuffle Along: The Making, “Scene after scene dazzles in one of the most electrifying entertainments on Broadway.”  Indeed, he reported, “It's almost impossible to stay still in your seat when the internally motorized ensemble of Shuffle Along explodes into one of choreographer Savion Glover’s seismic tap routines, or when the thoroughbred leads wrap their velvet pipes around those syncopated jazz sounds.”  Even “if the resulting historical reappraisal is more successful at charting the creative high than the deflating hangover that came after,” added Rooney, “the performances alone make it unmissable” despite “Wolfe’s overstuffed shambles of a book.”  And “while the showmanship is extraordinary” and the “cast is magnificent” (with extraordinary plaudits for McDonald), the HR reviewer continued, Shuffle Along: The Making “spreads its focus among five principal characters, leaving it without a strong protagonist or a unifying point of view.”  As a result, “it works better as the reanimation of a lost Broadway milestone than a portrait of the creative team behind it,” nevertheless, “the project’s strengths far outweigh its flaws.”  Rooney lavished praise on Glover’s “astonishing’ work and the “top-notch” visuals, but “Wolfe’s book exacerbates that by attempting to cover too much and sacrificing focus,” resulting in a “loss of buoyancy” as “too much of the concluding information is imparted documentary-style.”  The review-writer concluded, “However, even if the structural limitations of Wolfe’s undertaking are unable to support the scope of his noble intentions, it’s a genuine thrill to watch this outrageously talented cast.” 

In Time Out New York, David Cote dubbed Shuffle Along: The Making “a breathtaking piece of showmanship, featuring more talent crowding a stage than pretty much any other Broadway show,” that “is part archaeological dig, part documentary, part Afropunk collage of fact and fantasy.”  The show has “outstanding design” and “miles and miles of ecstatic, syncopated genius, courtesy of Savion Glover.”  The cast, said the man from TONY, is “incandescent” and Wolfe’s staging is “a constant flow of miracles,” but while the “first half is sensational; the second is difficult,” though “there’s an abundance of joy and style that smooth[e]s over stylistic rough edges and knotty stitching of history to myth.” 

Marilyn Stasio bluntly asserted in Variety, “‘Shuffle Along’ is to die for.”  Calling Shuffle Along: The Making a “dance-drunk show,” Stasio went on to write, “In his zeal to illustrate the full impact of this landmark production, helmer (and book writer) George C. Wolfe piles it on, stretching the show’s baggy structure all out of shape.  But an incoherent book seems a small price to pay for the joy of watching Audra McDonald cut loose.”  Lavishly praising the production, from the acting, to the dancing, to the designs, to Wofle’s staging, Stasio acknowledged that in act two, “the show is actively fighting with itself.”  Wolfe, she asserted, gets caught up in “rich material, but he really should have stopped himself from cramming it all into this show.”  In Entertainment Weekly, Caitlin Brody quipped that Shuffle Along: The Making “is a refreshing burst of energy, no caffeine necessary.”  She asserted that “the jazzy musical boasts so much star power, at times it seems unfair to the rest of the Broadway circuit.”  Choreographer Glover’s “rhythmic tap is the true pulse of Shuffle Along[: The Making].  The clickety-clacks heard from 30-plus dancers at once . . . ignite every seat in the theater and quickly become the only beat we need.”  Despite its length, Brody reported, Shuffle Along: The Making “never feels long—it’s a dazzling production that celebrates art, dreams, and equality.”  The EW reviewer ended her notice with a telling little anecdote: “And when the man behind me emphatically screamed out, ‘Damn!’ after the final number, I had to nod my head and agree.”

On TheaterMania, Zachary Stewart called Shuffle Along: The Making “an enchanting night on old Broadway, overflowing with talent and kept in constant motion by the brilliant choreography of Savion Glover.”  Stewart described the Brechtian and meta-theatrical elements of the production—the projected scenery and song labels at the top of the proscenium, the actors’ acknowledgment of the orchestra and the audience, and even the way the show begins with the sounds of a dance rehearsal coming from behind the closed curtain—and catalogued some of the “impressive moments from this star-studded cast,” lauding many of the individual performers.  “While the singing and acting is top-notch,” insisted Stewart; however, “it’s the dancing that really wows” as “Glover exceeds all expectations with his heart-pounding and scrupulously constructed choreography.”  Calling the production “exuberantly directed” and “brilliantly choreographed,” with “a large, to-die-for top to bottom cast,” Elyse Sommer of CurtaniUp characterized Shuffle Along: The Making as “a most enjoyable, invigorating new look at a savory and worth thinking about slice of musical history.”  The first act “is a sensationally entertaining homage” with “so many riches that it’s easy to forgive its somewhat disappointing execution of the . . . second act” with its “lecture-like format.”

On Deadline, Jeremy Gerard made an astonishing declaration: “Shuffle Along, or The Making . . . is an angry musical, its solid outrage sublimating not into bitterness or brutality but instead into a kind of suffusing sorrow over the cultural loss that is as fundamental to the legacy of racism as its more violent aspects.”  Gerard characterized Wolfe as “a writer and director blessed with the sharpest mind, the quickest wit, the wildest imagination and the fastest mouth in town”—and then he added one more “ingredient”: “I don’t know any other artist of Wolfe’s stature who has channeled rage into so brilliant and identifiable a catalogue raisonné.”  Out of these characteristics, Gerard considered that Shuffle Along: The Making arose.  But the cyber reviewer complained that the show, while “unquestionably entertaining,” “never resolves into a story.  Instead, it’s a series of historical scenes that tell, rather than show, and that’s deadly for a musical.”  Furthermore, while the physical production “has the confident, polished look of a no-expense-spared endeavor,” the Deadliner found that the show “struck me as both rough and unfinished.  It falls or flies on its kinetic energy, but the tap dancing is muddy,” for which he faulted Glover.  “More important,” Gerard continued, “the show is conceptually flawed.”  Still, such a fan of Wolfe’s is the reviewer that “I want to see all of his work, for all of it engages and challenges and even entertains me, even when, in the end, it doesn’t come together.”  Michele Willens of Theatre Reviews Limited described Shuffle Along: The Making as “a rather original hybrid of entertainment, story telling and history” in which act one “is pretty much pure joy from start to finish . . . chock full of dancing, song, dazzling costumes,” but act two “sort of loses the emotional threads and becomes more of a history lesson.”  This didn’t bother Willens, she said, because “I appreciate when dots are connected and knowing where all these folks ended up,” but she added later, nevertheless, “You can almost feel the energy dissipating as we get near the end.” 

The “opening night of the legendary Shuffle Along . . . caused a sensation,” Carol Rocamora reminded us on Theater Pizzazz.  “But I can’t imagine it being as sensational as its re-imagined reincarnation.”  In Rocamora’s view, “The joy of Wolfe’s Shuffle Along lies in the fabulous song-and-dance numbers” based on the “remarkable combination of energy and precision” of Glover’s choreography “that has audiences jumping to their feet, cheering in exhilaration.”  The show is performed by “an amazing all-star cast” on “Santo Loquasto’s sleek, snazzy set.”  The TP reviewer ended by saying of the play’s conclusion that she “found it especially touching.”  On Broadway World, Michael Dale declared that Wolfe’s “exhilarating” Shuffle Along: The Making “may not be perfect, but damn, it’s brilliant.”  The first act, reported Dale, is “lightening-paced” and by the time it’s over, “[t]here's little plot left, save for a series of disappointments.”  Nonetheless, continued the BWW reviewer, “that doesn't mean the second half is lacking in exciting moments.”  The Wrap’s Robert Hofler remarked, “In a year of pandering, corn-pone musicals, ‘Shuffle Along’ exudes elegance and intelligence at every turn.  While it’s big in its ambitions, theatrical thrills, and the emotions it stirs, Wolfe achieves much in very small ways.”  In another of Show-Score’s high-ranked reviews, one of two in the cyber press, Hofler continued that “whenever their words threaten to turn into a Wikipedia entry, Wolfe the writer hands the reins to his better half: Wolfe the director,” getting “an assist” from choreographer Glover.  “Both,” asserted the Wrapper, “have no equal on Broadway this season.”  “‘Shuffle Along’ abounds with such moments of inspired simplicity,” advised Hofler, “and that sophistication is reinforced by the work of veteran designers Santo Loquasto, Ann Roth, and Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer.”

Calling Shuffle Along: The Making an “extravagant new venture,” Matthew Murray explained on Talkin’ Broadway that it “doesn’t exist to relive or teach the past, but rather explain its role in creating the present we now enjoy.  And it does by blending the vocabularies of the early 20th century and 2016 into a single dramatic language that doesn’t look, sound, or feel like anything you can see anywhere else.”  Proclaimed Murray, “This is an evening that is packed, adventurous, and, in its own lighthearted way, powerful, though it never loses sight of what it’s saying or where it’s going.”  As for the production, the TB blogger asserted, “It’s a thrilling kaleidoscope, both comfortable and unpredictable, that translates for us a vernacular we no longer speak as a culture” with “electrifying” dances by Glover that are “a heady fusion of timeless tap-hearted hoofing and the edgier, more experimental stuff for which he’s acclaimed.”  Nonetheless, the show “suffers from two big problems.  First is that we don’t see (or hear) enough of Shuffle Along in context to judge it against our own standards. . . .  And the second act . . . lacks the dynamic narrative thrust of the first, and struggles to maintain the same vibrancy.”  In the other high-scoring cyber notice, Steven Suskin called Shuffle Along: The Making “a theatrical explosion” on the Huffington Post and reported that “the standard theatrical elements—music, story, staging, dancing and design—[are used] to propel the show in a novel and exciting manner” provided by “stellar performances, a sterling production, and an astoundingly talented ensemble.” In Suskin’s view, director Wolfe and choreographer Glover, “[e]ffortlessly avoiding the familiar or cliché, . . . have come up with a fascinating, colorfully grand entertainment.”  The HP reviewer summed up with, “But among a surfeit of riches, it is the combination of Wolfe and Glover that makes Shuffle Along[: The Making] a veritable explosion of theatricality, an unorthodox and vital new-style Broadway feast.”

On WNBC television (New York’s Channel 4), Robert Kahn characterized Shuffle Along: The Making as an “amalgam of backstory and revival” that’s “a passion project” for Wolfe.  Employing “the finest Broadway talent,” Wolfe’s production “is stylized to evoke an era and focus on big scenes, which can become burdened with exposition,” pushing “individual personalities into the background, which keeps us from getting to know better the ensemble players.”  Despite “elaborate tap sequences” brought to life by Glover, lamented Kahn, the show “is moving, in fits and starts.”  Despite “a large ensemble which dances and sings with precision and joy,” WNYC radio’s Jennifer Vanasco complained of Shuffle Along: The Making that “after an exuberant, thrilling first act, the weight of all that history drags down the second.”  Characterizing the show as “one long coda—a ‘whatever happened to . . .’ narrative,” Vanasco found that “Wolfe invests so little time in the dreams and motivations and backstories of his characters in the first act that we don’t feel emotionally tied to them in the second,” which, she reported, “is something to endure, instead of something to enjoy”—though the “first act is really astonishing.”  Mark Kennedy of the Associated Press described Shuffle Along: The Making as “a genre-jumping show, something not comfortable in one box.  It’s not a rev[ue] or revival,” Kennedy thought.  “It’s more like a history lesson that will blow you away.”  He reported, “There is a bit of bloat, too much exposition . . . but Wolfe nicely captures the timeless craziness of creation and the glory days of a special show.”

[On 10 May, Audra McDonald announced that she’s pregnant and would leave Shuffle Along, Or, The Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All That Followed on 24 July for maternity leave.  (The show’s producers also announced that Savion Glover, Shuffle Along: The Making’s choreographer, would be joining the cast on that date.)  On 23 June, however, the producers of the remake of the 1921 musical-theater sensation announced that the production can’t continue without McDonald (though a replacement, Grammy Award-winning singer and musician Rhiannon Giddens, had been named and had started rehearsing) and consequently that the show would close on 24 July, the date the cast changes were scheduled to happen.  In a written statement, Scott Rudin, the show’s lead producer, explained, “Audra McDonald is the biggest star on Broadway, and audiences have been clamoring to see her in this role since the first preview of ‘Shuffle Along’ in March of this year.”  He added that “the need for Audra to take a prolonged and unexpected hiatus from the show has determined the unfortunate inevitability of our running at a loss for significantly longer than the show can responsibly absorb . . . .”  According to a further statement, ticket sales, which had been running in excess of $1 million a week, have already dropped off severely for dates following McDonald’s announced departure.  When the $12-million Shuffle Along: The Making closes, it will have played 100 regular performances and 38 previews.]