New York (March 2015)

• Semele, 3/8/15 (Sun), BAM
• The Audience, 3/10/15 (Tues), Broadway
• On the 20th Century, 3/11/15 (Wed), Broadway
• Honeymoon in Vegas, 3/11/15 (Wed), Broadway
• An Octoroon, 3/18/15 (Wed), Off Broadway
• An American in Paris, 3/19/15 (Thurs), Broadway
• Paint Your Wagon, 3/20/15 (Fri), Encores!
• The King & I, 3/21/15 (Sat), Lincoln Center
• On the Town, 3/21/15 (Sat), Broadway
• Finding Neverland, 3/22/15 (Sun), Broadway

I was offered a ticket to the 1743 Handel opera Semele directed by the noted Chinese artist Zhuang Huan, who I knew for his bizarre photos of guys with calligraphic tattoos. The show is set in Ming Dynasty China using a 450-year-old temple weighing 17 tons that was dismantled and impressively rebuilt here. (A silent video prologue performed to the overture shows the story behind it, concerning a man who was sentenced to death for killing his wife’s lover – that doesn’t fit with the plot here, but it was nicely presented.)

A mortal woman, Semele, who falls in love with Jupiter is prodded by his jealous wife Juno (very big and very funny) to lure him into showing off his godly state, evidently a big no-no in the Roman world that proves her downfall. A bewildering mixture of styles – Chinese setting, Velasquez outfits, sumo wrestlers (accurately choreographed, but what were they doing in China??) – and props – a donkey sporting an erection, a huge lifeless puppet baby on a roof, a large dragon extending across stage and later wrapped around Semele, several flying scenes, temple pillars transformed to trees – all enlivening if not enlightening. The music was fantastic throughout, especially in the second act with two breathtaking numbers by the title character. The first, “Oh sleep, why dost thou leave me?”, was a gorgeous ballad beautifully sung, and the second, the narcissistic “Myself I shall adore” (delivered to a huge mirror reflecting the entire audience watching her watch herself), was a virtuoso piece reminiscent of “Glitter and Be Gay” in both its light tone, content and powerful vocal range. Amazing. Also a nice aria by a Jesus-looking guy on the roof cavorting with a naked woman.

There were two interpolated pieces. One featured a Tibetan throat singer that was notable for its other-worldly sound, though I have no clue as to what he was doing there. The end featured the Chinese anthem, suggesting some sort of connection between the anger of the gods and the oppression of the Chinese state. That seems to be stretching it – Semele was the one in the wrong here, after all. But it was a provocative piece, especially the second act. I’d be interested in seeing a traditional production for comparison.

I had already seen the live film of The Audience and loved it, so I knew what I was getting here. Even many of the actors were the same, not least the star Helen Mirren. There was a morsel added about Tony Blair that seemed to exist mainly to suggest parallels between the Suez Crisis and Iraq, which seemed heavy-handed and inappropriate. The show was interesting for me as a humanizing portrait of the queen as a woman and how she has dealt with a life that she never asked for. The Blair appearance tries to score a political point, which doesn’t contribute to our understanding of the queen as portrayed here. (I understand they’re putting Blair into the new London version as well, so maybe they’ll iron the kinks out.)

Otherwise the show was the same scrambled sampling of prime ministers from past and present, which works beautifully. The best was still Richard McCabe as Harold Wilson, especially in the moving moment when his memory gives way, showing the progress of Alzheimer’s. I also enjoyed Michael Elwyn again as Anthony Eden. The only real miscasting was Judith Ivey as Thatcher, a politician too well known to be done halfway. Ivey is a great actress (I still remember her Mrs. Malaprop) but did not have the accent or the presence down right, making this more a caricature than a true portrait. As for Mirren, the NY Times review had said that her portrayal was less subtle than in London, but I didn’t sense that whatsoever. She reigned supreme on stage and was every inch a queen, even as she adeptly showed Elizabeth’s vulnerability, as when the government threatened to take away the royal yacht. I also loved her various transformations from young to old and back, including breathtaking costume and wig changes. A wonderful show.

On the 20th Century is a breathless farce about a producer frantically in need of a hit who takes a train hoping to win over a big movie star (and former lover). He has 16 hours from Chicago to New York to get a play written and financed and to convince her to join. The book seemed to be stretching for laughs at times, like the entire character of the religious old lady. It gave the impression of begging for laughs. Still, it wasn’t trying for depth and was all in good fun. The only real problem with the show was the music, which was substandard Cy Coleman by any measure. Sounds like something he scratched out at the last minute before the show. The Comden and Green lyrics were not their best either. Was “My Private World” really the best they could come up with for a love song? The comedy songs worked more or less, like the French number and especially “She’s Nuts” (though that might be due to the staging), but the show had much more potential. The wacky book and characters kept the show afloat despite the songs, not because of them.

Direction-wise, the show was in good hands. The pace ranged from manic to more manic, with lots of doors opening and closing and people racing from room to room at a constant high pitch. I loved the hayagawari quick costume switch when Kristen changed instantly from frumpy accompanist to sexy dancer. The acting styles were appropriately outsized. The actors must be exhausted after doing this eight times a week. The set included a large train, three adjoining train cars, and at one point a train moving straight at the audience. Best of all was the inspired choreography. The four tap-dancing guys were especially memorable. Their Act 2 opener was dumb musically and lyrically, but their dancing turned it into a showstopper.

We were all there to see Kristen Chenoweth, and we were not disappointed: she had plenty of moments to shine, all of which she grabbed with gusto. She has great comic timing and camped it up with the best of them, with a voice to match. I would have loved to see Madeleine Kahn way back when, but I doubt she could have sung the show to this level. The lead (Peter Gallagher) was still not back from his injury, but the understudy was perfectly fine. My favorites among the others were Mary Louise Wilson as the old lady and Andy Karl as Kristen’s egotistic lover. The latter had starred in Rocky, so I had imagined him as more serious, but he was terrific at the relentless physical comedy required here, taking pratfalls and in near constant movement throughout. He’s physically very big, which worked well in the role (especially since the lead was around the same size), and looked like he was enjoying himself. The two gangsters were also perfect. The show couldn’t get a better cast. It is a good second-tier musical, a jokey book searching for a composer. Not sure I need to see it anymore, but the production was very enjoyable.

Honeymoon in Vegas is a reworking of a movie that didn’t impress me at the time, but the musical has been well received by the critics, if not (yet) audiences. Jack has been unable to commit himself to marriage because of a curse placed on him by his late mother. Fighting back, he suggests to his fiancée Betsy that they fly to Vegas and get married immediately. There, the fiancée proves to be a dead ringer for a mob boss’ late wife. And the boss wants her.

As with 20th Century, the rapid pace of proceedings, which cover NY, Las Vegas and Hawaii, made me wonder at times if they weren’t just trying to paper over the flaws. It was delivered in exclamation points. Also, some of the ideas probably sounded okay on paper and should have stayed there, like the jungle of angry mothers. But again it was better just to sit back and enjoy the wild sequence of events: the dead mother popping to life from a Tiffany’s jewelry display, the poker game with the straight flush, the skydiving Elvises. The book writer had a vivid imagination, to say the least.

The relentless staging matched that nuttiness head on and delivered the goods. I loved the opening number “I Love Betsy” with the umbrellas, which was beautifully paced (including a great entry for Betsy), and moments like the girls playing the harp with her breasts and the “(Let’s Do) Friki-Friki” number were a hoot. Overall the choreography wasn’t as inventive as in 20th Century, but the music was much better, with a swingy rat-packy sound that was perfect in context. The composer/lyricist Jason Robert Brown seemed to aiming more for cleverness than depth: the comedy numbers, like “Vegas”, were somewhat predictable and for the most part not quite as smart as they wanted to be (“Out of the Sun”, where the gangster laments his sun-worshipping late wife’s death from skin cancer, also comes to mind), and the ballads all failed to land. But musically it was exactly the style I like, and I enjoyed it for what it was. It is the best of Brown’s scores by a long shot. On the super-plus side, the score was played by an onstage orchestra that was alone worth the half-price ticket.

Tony Danza was fine in the gangster role, if not overly charismatic. It’s fairly boilerplate gangster with little real range, and he didn’t make up for that in performance. He does have a pleasant voice, and his tap dance, while totally out of character, was well done. The real star was Rob McClure, who gave a powerhouse performance as Jack. He was charmingly nebbish and nervous with a good comic sense that really added to the role. He could have lapsed into Jewish stereotype, which might very well have worked, but he made the part his own. His restless energy was infectious, and he managed to maintain that tension for the entire night. He was the show’s best asset. Others, including Brynn O’Malley as Betsy, were okay as well. The only disappointment was Nancy Opel, who didn’t really capitalize on the seemingly foolproof Jewish mother role, though that might be a function of the staging and her horrible costume. The idea was funny but not the execution.

The show as a whole was great fun. It hasn’t done well at the box office and is rumored to be on its last legs, which is a shame. It might be hurt by its songs, which, as fun as they are musically, are too obviously jokey and not truly heartfelt. In any case, I’m glad I saw it.

An Octoroon: A madcap deconstruction of a 19th century melodrama by Boucicault called The Octoroon (note the different article). The story as is would not be producible today: the heir to a Southern estate falls in love with a woman who turns out to be an “octoroon” (one-eighth black), and a tyrant who has taken over half the bankrupt estate claims her as his property, pitting him against her lover. The actors find their way into this dicey material by mixing races and playing way over the top: a black guy plays the white owner, a white guy plays the black servant, another white guy plays the American Indian, even a doll baby is in blackface. The slave girls speak modern American – “I know, right?” – and put on a overtly sexy show at the auction hoping to be bought by a ship owner and taken to a new environment.

The black lead was great, including a fight with himself at one point as both hero and villain. The other standouts were the hilarious take by the rich girl who loved him and the two slave girls. The show was a powerful statement on race, interesting in light of the controversy over the all-Asian Show Boat. I could have done without the irritating framework of an argument between main actor and Boucicault, which seemed to be trying to justify the show – the material and staging are their own justification. The set seemed fairly simple until it was cleverly lowered to reveal another set. It was raised again, but later crashed shockingly and loudly to the floor, scattering cotton balls over the audience and making us feel fear rather than just view it. There was also a lynching projection that was highly effective. A superb show superbly staged.

I was skeptical about An American in Paris despite the rave reviews in Paris, having been disappointed once too many times with colorless adaptations. But a friend invited me, and who could object to that amazing Gershwin score? It proved a very ballet-heavy show, and the dances had to carry a great amount of the story that might have been better conveyed by the book, though it was all extremely impressive purely as dance. For instance, the show opens (after a brief intro by a whiny Jewish character) to a slow ballet showing how the leads met. This felt out of place since we know nothing of the characters yet. The choreographer must think he’s getting the point across with the dance, but this, as a friend put it, is not the language of Broadway. That said, setting aside the story, the dances were lavish, imaginative, thrilling, exciting, romantic and more, basically everything a dance fan could ever want. The quality of the dancing was on a different level entirely from a normal musical – it might be the best danced musical I’ve ever seen. As long as they were dancing, the show was hard to improve on.

The book, unsurprisingly, is creaky and corny, while the songs are basically a random collection of greatest hits shoehorned in with no thought as to story or character. Interestingly, it recycles several numbers from Crazy for You, including “I Got Rhythm” as the opening number and “But Not For Me” (delivered here as well in an overly serious way). There were some attractive arrangements such as the three-person “S’Wonderful”. Bookwriter Craig Lucas, who did the wonderful Light in the Piazza, seemed eager to introduce a serious story into this schlock, such as the uninteresting revelation that the main girl was Jewish and a hint that one of the guys might be gay. I wish he’d lighten up. He also had three suitors for the same girl, which seems one suitor too many. The show would be better if the book were jettisoned entirely to leave just the dances. One additional irritant: the word “suck” stands out as anachronistic, and I really wish they’d chuck it.

Robert Fairchild was absolutely spectacular in the lead. A NYC Ballet principal, he can also sing quite well and gave an energetic performance. Ballet’s loss is Broadway’s big gain, and I hope someone’s creating new roles for him right now. He’s going to be a hard guy to replace. Leanne Cope, the Leslie Caron woman, was cute and every bit Fairchild’s match as a dancer, though burdened with a silly part and bum accent. The other two main men were okay in way overwritten roles. I liked Veanne Cox as the society woman who was angling for Fairchild, and others were fine. The set was colorful and lively but very busy, with screens spinning, boats lowered from above, scenery constantly pulled on and off. Less would have been more. It’s hard to complain about a Gershwin score, which was thrillingly performed, but it was just one famous number after another with little connection to the plot. “Liza”, for one, was thrown in unconvincingly despite the fact that the girl is named Lisa. Mamma Mia did better than this. Gershwin has plenty of great lesser-known numbers to choose from, and a more eclectic selection would have been welcome. “Fidgety Feet” was a nice try (and expertly choreographed), but wasn’t very interesting either as a song or a plot point. The show seemed largely a wasted opportunity. But then there’s the dancing, which makes up for a lot of flaws. I’ll definitely recommend this to my Japanese friends, who can blissfully ignore the book and enjoy the impressive spectacle.

Paint Your Wagon: I was wavering on this one, but its an Encores! production, which is always a good bet, and came highly recommended by a good friend. It turned out to be an absolutely terrific production. The music is much better in context than on the album and, other than some weak comedy numbers, is strong in concept and execution. The book is surprisingly good within its limits other than an abrupt ending. Not that it’s perfect: for one thing, minor characters curiously get big numbers, such as the wonderful “They Call the Wind Maria” sung by a one-off nobody character. Still, the dialogue is sharp, and all songs are set up beautifully, both in sharp contrast with the previous day’s An American in Paris (which, as it happens, was also based on a scenario by Lerner — with Gigi on Broadway now as well, he’s having a field day). The production numbers were uniformly good, the choreography robust as befitting the Old West setting. I love the opening, when the lead, burying his late wife, discovers gold in the process, sparking an animated opening number in “I’m On My Way”. The powerful male chorus was splendid in all cases, putting the numerous big boisterous numbers across with power and conviction.

Keith Carradine was a perfect choice as the lead. His delivery hardly felt like acting, and he provided a fantastic “I Still See Elisa” and “Wanderin’ Star”. Big thumbs up. The Julio was also very good, with a beautiful voice on “I Talk to the Trees” and others. The main woman was energetic, and there were some excellent character actors, like the little Irish guy. The “Maria” singer was exceptionally good, but everyone was superior musically. Really fun score. Unusually for Encores!, the actors did not use books, yet another step towards full-blown productions. I thought this could go right to Broadway with a few tweaks to the book, especially the ending. About as good a version as imaginable for a semi-staged show.

The King & I: Hmm. This production, which just started previews, is selling extremely well, but I had heard very mixed reviews about the king, Japanese film star Ken Watanabe. The show started out wonderfully: there’s an amazing opening as the ship (oddly named Chao Praya, the Bangkok river – I thought it was supposed to be an English ship) sails in over the orchestra, and the king makes an imposing entrance from up to downstage. The production boasts an unusually large cast, sumptuous costumes, imposing sets and a full orchestra visible to the audience, making this a grand musical in every way.

The first act was dramatically satisfying overall other than the slave Tuptim’s overly aggressive take on the role, not unexpected in this day and age but not realistic as presented here. The problem is in the second act, especially the key “Shall We Dance?” number. There is no evident sexual appeal between Anna and the king, a fatal flaw in this musical. I suspect the problem is Watanabe, who seemed hesitant, but the ultimate responsibility is the director. If the last Broadway production was too emphatic here with that silly turntable, at least it grasped the importance of the moment. That undermined the rest of the show. Maybe for that reason, the death scene, normally a foolproof four-tissue moment, was flat. The opulent staging may have overcome the story.

They included some scenes not usually seen, such as a nice rendition of “Western People Funny”, but there were some overly fussy bits that I could have done without. That includes unnecessary movement in some songs like “We Kiss In A Shadow”, where Lun Tha criss-crosses the stage numerous times and even falls dramatically on his back at one point. The “March of the Children”, though a charmer as always, was strangely staged with Anna’s back to the audience. It would have been nice to see her expression as the kids greet her. (And I didn’t like the button ending on that song, when the king turns to the audience in perfect coordination with the last note.) Similarly, the king had his back to the audience in “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”. The other guests, for whom the dancers were also performing, were seated to the side, which seemed a nice compromise. On the other hand, Lun Tha sings “I Have Dreamed” out to the audience while Tuptim is watching from upstage. Couldn’t he at least pretend to be singing to her? Bartlett Sher was not at his best here.

I was happy to see that Watanabe’s English was not as tortured as they had made it out to be (he’s apparently been working furiously on his pronunciation), but he does give the impression of not necessarily understanding just what he is saying, such as his rendition of “A Puzzlement”. He does have fairly good comic timing, is physically large and looks the part, and did quite well in the first act. But he was less assured in the second act. He clearly didn’t get what was at stake in “Shall We Dance?”, giving the impression of just wanting to get through it. The director should have given better guidance and is responsible in good part for this. In any case, I really wanted Watanabe to be good, but the best I can say is that he did okay given his limited grasp of the language. Of course, this is still in previews, so a lot can change before opening night. It will be interesting to see how he progresses.

The production was fortunate to have Kelli O’Hara, who was as fantastic as ever. Not a false move or note throughout in either the comic or dramatic bits. It’s hard to imagine a better Anna. Paul Nakauchi was wonderfully regal as the Kralahome (with a much better body than the saggy Watanabe, who’s the same age), and the Lady Thiang was terrific. On the down side, Tuptim, despite a gorgeous voice, was way off in her overly angry portrayal, though that might have been the director’s fault. Her attitude would have gotten her killed instantly by the Siamese court and wasn’t remotely believable in the context of the show. It needs a major rethink. (This may have come from Sher’s politics: he speaks in the program about how the hoop skirt is a symbol of white supremacy over the slaves, even though Anna comes from Wales.) Her lover was also not on the level of the other actors, though he had a great voice. Both of the couple’s ballads should be reined in so that the music and lyrics take center court. I noticed that the “Uncle Tom’s” dance featured the lead from last year’s Kung Fu, Cole Horibe, who did beautifully here as the angel.

The show is indestructible thanks to the strength of the book, music and Jerome Robbins’ choreographic vision, which seemed largely preserved here. The “Uncle Tom’s” number is still a knockout, and it was great to see the show done on the operatic scale that it deserved. Someone seeing the show for the first time will certainly be impressed. For all its flaws, the production is a solid version of a great musical. Watanabe’s only in this for six months, so I’d be curious to see it again with a new king – hopefully a native English speaker.

On The Town: This had fantastic reviews, so despite having seen the show many times and so many other offerings in town, curiosity got the better of me. The opening number was as good as it gets, including spectacular dancing by all three of the main sailors. The problems started soon thereafter. Some numbers had distractions that signal a lack of faith in the material: Hildy’s “I Can Cook Too” had Chip dancing and getting naked, Pritkin’s “I Understand” had Lucy doing pratfalls, “I Got Me” was a bunch of ill-defined screaming and jumping. I don’t know what was going on with the dinosaur in “Carried Away”, but it was dumb rather than funny. In the Coney Island sequence, Ivy should be front and center, but there were so many people on stage that I couldn’t tell what was what. Most disappointingly, “Some Other Time” was too morose. It should be rueful, not depressing.

Moreover, characters were not well defined or played, especially Hildy and Claire, who seemed to be on speed and did not have good comic sense. That’s partly a function of the directing and partly the acting. Both need elocution lessons in their singing, though maybe they were just preoccupied by their exaggerated gestures. None of their scenes registered; it felt like they were rushing to finish. Pritkin was also unusually weak. These are great parts for character actors, and these things sometime benefit from being scaled down. The interminable clowning started to smell like desperation and became tiresome after a while. As in his Encores! production some years earlier, director John Rando put sex a bit too front and center. It’s right there in the material, and he doesn’t need to beat us over the head with it.

On the plus side, the sailors were all great, especially Tony Yazbek as Gabey, who did all his own dancing (and beautifully so). The Ivy, though hardly overwhelming as an actress, was attractive and a lovely dancer, including a brilliant pas de deux with Gabey toward the end. Julie Halston milked her roles (old lady, ballet teacher, nightclub singers) for all they’re worth while making every line count. I wish the others had been more like her.

The costumes were terrific, but the sets only intermittently so. Even the video projections seemed skimpy, notably in the taxi scene. I did love the lighting around the proscenium, which was simple and effective. The dances overall suggested that the choreographer didn’t have a clear idea of what he wanted to say. Still, the level of the dancing itself made it all worth it, especially whenever Gabey or Ivy were on stage. The opening number, “Gabey’s Coming” (best rendition of the number that I’ve ever seen) and the Gabey-Ivy duet were easily the best. Dance fans are lucky to have both this and An American in Paris on stage at the same time.

On The Town is basically a bunch of silly sketches and was already old hat when it debuted, coming in the shadow of Oklahoma! And those sketches haven’t necessarily aged well, so the acting needs to be pretty finely calibrated. That wasn’t the case here, possibly because of poor direction. Of course, the score was and remains fresh and vigorous and youthful, and doesn’t feel like a period piece in the way that the Rodgers and Hammerstein music can (though those scores are still perfect in the context of their shows). The great renditions of “New York, New York” and “Lonely Town” and the musical underscoring in the ballets made up for a lot. So it wasn’t a total waste.

I had no intention of seeing the still-previewing Finding Neverland, which I vaguely imagined was a Wicked-style prequel revealing that Captain Hook was actually an abused child or such. But seeing a new musical with absolutely no knowledge of the book, movie or show itself was actually tempting. I went in with low expectations.

I was blown away. The show boasted a literate book (by British writer James Graham, who did the National’s interesting This House some years back), great acting and fabulous staging. It’s the story of how JM Barrie, a successful writer of stodgy class-ridden dramas, came up with the idea of Peter Pan. He was evidently inspired by young children he met in a park, whose vivid imaginations freed him from his confined upper-class world. He also gets to know the widowed mother, whose free spirit is a contrast with his own stuffy wife. It has the potential for soggy sentiment, especially when the memories of the dead father arise, but it generally avoids the sap trap, managing a nice balance between honest sentiment and the needs of the drama.

There are a number of wonderfully drawn characters, some of whom could easily have lapsed into stereotype, such as the producer or Barrie’s actors, but they turned out to have distinctive personalities that mesh together beautifully. The conclusion was touching in the very best way. My only complaint book-wise, a minor one, was the dragged-out ending ; I wish they had stopped at the quiet moment with Barrie and the kids instead of bringing everyone back on stage in an artificial up moment, although that was staged beautifully. But given the good will of the preceding two and a half hours, they are forgiven.

The entire show was given an imaginative staging by Diane Paulus, following on her terrific renditions of Hair and Pippin. She handles crowd scenes better than anyone I know, including a wild dinner party, some exciting dream/nightmare scenes, the actors in rehearsal and at a bar, and others. A real master at work. I liked the way they had the actors fly simply by lifting them up and lighting it evocatively (reminded me of Curious Incident). As much as I love the flying scene in the musical Peter Pan, this really worked in context. Peter Pan’s dancing and presentation in general was just right. Small moments were also amusing, like the way the producer’s cane gave the idea for the hook. Above all, the mother’s exit through the fairy dust and out the window, leaving behind the floating cloth, was magical. It was truly something to behold. This is Paulus’ best work to date and easily the best new staging in town.

The one real problem was the generic music, written by members of a boy band called Take That. It didn’t help that I had seen shows by Gershwin, Lerner & Loewe, Rodgers & Hammerstein, and Bernstein in succession in the days just preceding, which makes for a pretty brutal comparison, but I’ve learned to keep my musical hopes down. As it happens, this one wasn’t too painful: the lyrics were unexceptional, bland, overly literal, yes, but they did at least perform their function of telling the story, which earns some points. I did expect more memorable melodies given the pop roots of the creators, but maybe I just wasn’t listening hard enough. In any case, the fantastic staging of all numbers helped immeasurably.

The cast was amazing from top to bottom. Matthew Morrison gave a beautifully restrained performance as the playwright and was very touching toward the end. Kelsey Grammer had contagious fun with his double role as the American producer and Captain Hook; I would love to see him take on the latter in a Peter Pan production. (There was a funny moment when the British actors asked him, “Do you say Cheers in your country?” – referring to his old TV show. I guess that line will be out with the next actor.) Laura Michelle Kelly (kids’ mother), Teal Weaks (Barrie’s wife) and Carolee Carmello (rich society woman) all managed to lift their characters out of potential stereotype and given them individuality, as did the numerous actors in the troupe. The dog won plenty of “aahs” from the audience at his first appearance, but the cast hardly needed the help. An exceptionally strong cast overall, a reflection on the director.

I spotted Harvey Weinstein, the movie mogul who’s making his first venture onto Broadway as lead producer (I think he did the movie), and congratulated him on a super show. He’ll be getting a lot of that in the coming weeks, I assume. Great ending, very unexpectedly, to my NY trip.

(A postscript: The reviews have since come out for three of these shows, and all were completely different from my view: An American in Paris (spectacular), Finding Neverland (awful) and The King & I (positive). No one raised issues with the silly book in Paris, but I agree with the universal praise for the dancing and especially the lead actor. This seems a good bet to win the Tony for best musical at this stage, which should keep it going for a while. Neverland was roundly denounced for its bland score (that much I get – it was at best tolerable) and the book, seen as filled with stereotypical characters, stale dialogue – several reviews noted deprecatingly the reference to Cheers and to actors as fairies – and Hallmark‑y sentiment tipping into tearjerker category. I loved the show and don’t get this at all. Maybe I missed something. The King & I won plaudits for the staging, the leads (though noting Watanabe’s language problems), the big orchestra (yes!) and the set. The traditional nature of the staging was also widely welcomed. One review said it’s the best version he’s likely to see in his lifetime. No one talked about the dynamic between the title characters, which I found lacking. But I did see it in previews, so that might have improved as Watanabe gained confidence. Overall I thought the production was fine, and more than that with the orchestra, scale and lead actress, so I wasn’t too surprised by the reviews. This show won’t have to worry about filling its seats for a while.)