April's Fool

These pages have been dormant for many weeks, for a variety of reasons.  My life imploded a bit in recent months, and though I certainly could have made time to contribute to this site, I just was not inspired.  And who wants to read a blog which isn't inspired?

Here's the Fool's coxcomb.
And my apologies for being
absent for so long.

The biggest event in my recent life was surely my father's heart attack in January. 


Though he's well into his 80s, my dad has maintained perfect health throughout his life. 

Every doctor he's ever encountered has marveled that he will live beyond 100. He's never been overweight, and though he was a casual smoker in his young adulthood, he quit smoking over 50 years ago. His diet has been exemplary, especially since marrying my stepmother more than a decade ago, and his exercise routine includes cardio 5 times a week. He has aced every stress test ever given to him, and he hasn't had a drink in years.  In short, he was the last person ever thought to be at risk for a heart attack. So he had one.

It was a pretty major event, and Dad's overall good health helped him survive the damage to his heart.  By coincidence, I was scheduled to fly to North Carolina to visit him the day after his attack, so I was present for his hospital stay and his return home.  Even in those early days, his recovery seemed to pleasantly surprise his doctors (including the doc who missed Dad's clogged arteries all these years), and he is well on his way to recovery.  But this event severely rattled me and my family.  Having myself achieved half a century a while ago, I am now faced with the reality of Heart Disease in my Immediate Family.

Only a few weeks after my father's heart attack, my oldest and dearest friend Claudia lost her husband of 30 years.  I wrote about my Claud quite a while ago in these pages, and it was particularly frustrating for me to be a continent away while she went through this major trauma.

Not everything these past weeks has been traumatic.  I could claim that my own life has been filled with drama, but it's been the theatrical kind.  

Hudson Warehouse posters usually feature
the leading actors in evocative poses. My
little secret: I am determined to land on one
of their show posters in the future.

I spent most of February and March working on a production of Julius Caesar, produced by the group with which I have spent the past two summers, Hudson Warehouse.  After a decade working outside, this group snagged the opportunity to produce two shows indoors, and their first Shakespearean offering was that ode to the Ides of March.  I was very pleased to be offered the role of Casca, as the arc of the character was dramatic and satisfying.  The first time we see him, he displays a dry wit which sits well on me;  in his next scene, he is a bundle of nerves.  Hudson Warehouse has cast me very well in the past two seasons, for which I am grateful. 


Casca and Cassius face the elements.  For two summers,
the only complaint I had about working with Hudson Warehouse
was: the weather. Out in Riverside Park, we are at the mercy
of sudden rainstorms and blistering heat.
And I've been obnoxiously vocal about it all.
This year's indoor production included, you guessed it, a huge
rainstorm. Before my entrance, I sprayed water all over my hair,
face, and clothes, leaving me wetter than I had ever been in the
park.  I call this Payback Karma.

It was fun to watch Hudson Warehouse's team play around with lighting and sound effects, which are not possible when they work in Riverside Park.  I won't be working with HW this summer, as I attempt to get my personal finances in order, but I hope I'll be back with them again in the future.

Our Julius Caesar followed the historical account of his assassination, which reports that Casca delivered the first of 23 stab wounds. Our fight choreographer Jared Kirby (encouraged I think by our producer Susane Lee) gave the final stab to Casca as well.  And who was I to argue?

I had a week between closing Julius Caesar and the start of my next project, and I spent the time indulging in a couple of Broadway Shows.  I'll report on those separately in later pages.  On April Fool's Day, I began rehearsal for King Lear, in which I am, prophetically, playing the Fool.  I've worked with Titan Theatre Company before (in fact, they afforded me my NYC debut in Taming of the Shrew); this particular group of actors is an extremely strong one.  As I write this, we have opened the show to strong audiences and enthusiastic reaction.  Now that I'm back on The Blog, as it were, I hope to track our show's process in better detail.

Stay tuned for further reports, and welcome back!

Friday Dance Party: There Is Nothing Like A Dame, She Wrote

This week's star appeared a long while ago in these pages, singing with her bosom buddy Bea Arthur.  Here's a peek at an earlier musical appearance.

All hail Angela Lansbury!  She's certainly considered a national treasure, so much so that it was a bit of a surprise when it was announced that she was to receive the DBE in the new year.  As a Commander of the British Empire, she can now be addressed as Dame;  because of her 7 or so decades of work in the United States, some of her fans forgot she was a Brit.

This is not Angela Lansbury, nor is she Lansbury's most famous character, Jessica Fletcher, but she might have been.  Once she completed her years with All In The Family, television producers were anxious to get beloved Jean Stapleton back on the tube.  She was offered Murder, She Wrote, and turned it down, thinking it was dreck.

Our newest Dame had some early success in Hollywood, snagging juicy roles in two MGM films back to back.  Both Gaslight and The Picture of Dorian Gray are better known today than when they were first released back in the early 40s, but Angela earned Oscar nominations for both pictures. 

This is not Angela Lansbury, but she deserves a mention.
She is Penelope Keith, who has maintained a substantial
career in Britain, and is known in the US as the star of
several Britcoms presented on PBS.  She is a particular
favorite of mine, and she was Damed along with Angela.

The majority of her film career, at the time, though, was comprised of small supporting roles which annoyed the heck out of our gal.  The Three Musketeers and National Velvet are among her films of the period, but the rest of her performances during the 40s were in movies we don't remember today.  Though throughout her career she made a relative buttload of theatrical films, we remember only a handful, including another Oscar nominated turn as the politically manipulative Mother From Hell in The Manchurian Candidate.

The Manchurian Candidate was a political thriller with psychological overtones set in the paranoid period of the Cold War.  Lansbury's rigid poise lent her an air of maturity which allowed her to convincingly play Lawrence Harvey's mother, though she was only 3 years older.  The film's star was Frank Sinatra, who did not want Angela in the part.  He lobbied heavily for the role to go to (are you ready?) Lucille Ball.  Director John Frankenheimer shot down that idea, but 12 years later, the tables turned, and our dame lost her most loved role, Mame Dennis, to Lucy.  It was not a fair trade.

Bedknobs and Broomsticks earned the
Oscar for Special Effects, but did not
measure up to Mary Poppins.

There is a generation of kids who first came across Angela Lansbury in the Disney film Bedknobs and Broomsticks, a 1971 musical which is often unfavorably compared to Mary Poppins. There was a mix of animation and live action, and the score was once again provided by the Sherman Brothers. 


Forget Disney, my favorite Angie film is the barely remembered
Peter Sellers item, The World of Henry Orient, in which he
played a philandering concert pianist stalked by two teenaged
girls.  Lansbury played the mother of one of the girls. Rent it if
you can: Paula Prentiss is a scream.

Mame, Mrs. Lovett, Jessica
Fletcher, and a teapot. She's a
Dame with Range.

Disney and Lansbury had much, much better luck together with Beauty and the Beast, the animated blockbuster which became the first cartoon to be nominated for the Best Picture Academy Award.  Our gal introduced the title song, which won the Oscar and became an international bestseller.

Murder, She Wrote turned our dame into an international celebrity.  It was a family-friendly whodunit and a mainstay on the powerful CBS Sunday night lineup.  Lansbury was nominated for the Emmy all 12 years of the show's run, and lost every year (she is in the record books for this stat).

This week's Dance Party comes from one of those forgettable films of Angela's early career, and though she is singing and dancing in this one, her musical talents had been forgotten by the early 60s. 

Stephen Sondheim's most prestigious
failure remains 1964's Anyone Can Whistle,
in which Angie played a corrupt mayor.

It was a surprise to everybody that she could handle the leading role in a Broadway musical;  unfortunately, her first foray into theatrical musical comedy was in the notorious flop Anyone Can Whistle. 

Angela was a smash as Mame; sadly, only grainy
clips of her performance remain. But on her 84th
birthday, she appeared in this Dance Party,
filmed while she was packing houses on Bway;
it gives a good indication of what her
Mame must have been like.

Lansbury emerged from that debacle unscathed;  when she turned in a stellar performance in Mame, she cemented her reputation as a musical star.  Back to back Tonys, for Mame and Dear World, followed.  She was to win two more Tonys for musical roles, and I was privileged to see her in both.

When I was 17, a group from my high school in Atlanta spent three weeks touring Europe, devoting the first full week to seeing London's sights. 

Other than Roz Russell in the film, this
was the first time I ever saw Mama
Rose.

That included a trip to Stratford to see some Shakespeare.  We saw As You Like It, set in a forest made of chiffon, and Timon of Athens, set among a motorcycle gang.  Things were a little more palatable in the West End, where we caught Angela Lansbury taking Rose's Turn in Gypsy.  Our dame had to be persuaded to take on that iconic part, which was still regarded as the exclusive property of Ethel Merman.  Producers attempted to present the show in London for almost 15 years before Lansbury took the role. And re-energized it. 

My high school trip to Europe was not
strictly a Theatre Jaunt, though we saw
Shakespeare at Stratford and Gypsy in
London. After the Follies Bergere in
Paris, we hit Athens and Rome. This
is me.  At the Acropolis.

I remember her performance vividly, and after seeing it, could not imagine that battle ax Merman in the part.  After an American tour, Angela took the production to Broadway and won her third Tony.

I was also privileged to see the performance which many believe to be Lansbury's finest stage work, as that villainous Kewpie doll who baked people into pies, Mrs. Lovett, in Sondheim's masterpiece, Sweeney Todd. 

Lansbury was the undisputed comic relief in the gruesome
grand guignol tale of Sweeney Todd. Who knew "popping
pussies into pies" could be so funny?

After playing the show in New York for a while, Angela left the production in the hands of Dorothy Loudon, and opened a touring production in Los Angeles.  It was there that the show was videotaped, over a period of three days.  I was present in the audience one of those days, and was again bowled over by our dame's work.

Flanked by Charles Durning and Michael Jeter, Angela was pegged to play Mrs. Santa Claus in Jerry Herman's attempt to create a Christmas perennial cash cow.  Our dame had won two Tonys singing Herman's songs, so in 1996, he wrote this TV movie for her, in hopes that it would be run every year.  Nobody's seen it since.

Lansbury has continued her stage work as she has aged.  She was well-received in a recent revival of A Little Night Music, playing a role created decades earlier by Hermione Gingold, and a year later, she spent some time in a starry revival of Gore Vidal's The Best Man.

Lansbury won her only non-musical Tony for this performance as the psychic Madam Arcati in Coward's Blithe Spirit.  The award ties her with Julie Harris as Broadway's top Tony winning actress (Audra McDonald has since joined that group as well).  Angela is scheduled to reprise this performance in London this year;  it will be her first stage performance in London since I saw her there in Gypsy 40 years ago.

In the past year, Lansbury has toured Australia in Driving Miss Daisy, opposite James Earl Jones.  The old gal certainly isn't slowing down.

This week's clip is from Till Clouds Roll By, a fictionalized biography of Jerome Kern.  The film includes several big production numbers by stars in cameo, including Lansbury;  this number comprises her entire performance in the movie.  But it does include some dancing, a rarity on the Dance Party these days.  Let's go spooning with Dame Angela Lansbury.

New Year's Dance Party: The Jackpot Question In Advance

This week's Dance Party brought back lots of memories of this show, in which I appeared shortly before leaving Los Angeles for good.  Perfectly Frank was a musical revue of the work of Frank Loesser;  our company sang "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?" as the centerpiece of the act one finale.

As the holiday season concludes, it's fitting that this week's Dance Party feature a song associated with New Year's Eve. 

Frank Loesser wrote Guys and Dolls, How To Succeed..., The Most Happy Fella, and Where's Charley?, as well as a slew of songs for movies and as stand-alone tunes.  He wrote two songs which have become inexorably linked to the holidays, though he meant neither one of them to become holiday warhorses.  "Baby, It's Cold Outside" and "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?" are now holiday standards.  It particularly galled Frank that the latter was sung at Christmastime, as he wrote it to be sung in the spring.  Note the opening line, "Maybe it's much too early in the game."  These days, that lyric is presumed to mean that it's too early in the relationship to be making plans for New Year's Eve, but no, Loesser meant it literally to mean too early in the year.

Frank Loesser wrote this tune back in 1947 and, much to his chagrin, it immediately became a holiday standard.  Everybody and his brother has recorded this song. 

When Barbra Streisand recorded a Christmas album way
back in 1967, the thing went quintuple-platinum.
Everybody forgot she was a Jewish girl from Brooklyn
and she was crowned the Queen of Christmas Music.
Her second holiday album, above, features this week's
tune.

Old timers such as Margeret Whiting and Dick Haymes brought the song to the public in the late 40s, but it may have been Nancy Wilson's version, released in the mid-60s, which put the tune in the standard holiday repertoire. 

Rod Stewart not only co-opted the song, he snatched
Ella Fitzgerald's performance of it, and with tech
slight-of-hand, recorded a duet with the long dead diva.

Johnny Mathis, Barry Manilow, The Carpenters, Donny Osmond, Bette Midler, Harry Connick, Patti LaBelle, even Chicago all took their turn. 

Our Dance Party clip is responsible for bringing new attention to the song.  A few years ago,Zooey Deschanel teamed up with her friend Joseph Gordon-Levitt to publish a sweet little rendition on YouTube. 

Nobody cares who this guy is, but the fact that he is
holding a ukulele can be blamed on this week's Dance
Party clip.

The popularity of the clip soared, with over 13 million views, and now, the Internet is thoroughly cluttered with all manner of amateurs accompanying themselves on the ukulele.  I wonder what Frank Loesser would think about that?  But why worry about such things, let's just wish everyone a Happy New Year, and hope everyone has a special somebody to kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve. 

Christmas Dance Party: A Boy And His Drum

This holiday Dance Party takes place at Arlington Cemetery.  And also the White House.

It took me a while to become a fan of Christmas music. 

Sure, I suppose I liked it as a kid, but I quickly lost any affection for carols when I got a job in the Sears Complaint Department in my freshman year of college.  My store was located at a mall rather pompously called the Northridge Fashion Center, and for the first few years I worked there, we actually had a department which sold pianos and organs. 

You might think holiday music
played on the organ would be fun.
You'd be wrong.

The Christmas music, which back then began the day after Thanksgiving, was inescapable, and even after that organ dept shut down, the Muzak in the store, and the Muzak in the mall itself, was unrelenting.  I worked at that Sears, part-time, for a whopping 15 years, so by the time I quit, I had had it with malls in general and Christmas music in particular.

Vince Guaraldi renamed my favorite song
"My Little Drum." His jazzy adaptation
is not heard onscreen, but it helps
fill out this soundtrack album.

Ah, but it was only a little while before, like one of those sheep being watched by shepherds by night, I was led back into the fold.  I have a fairly substantial collection of holiday recordings (well, four or five dozen), which I break out soon after Halloween (yes, I'm a Christmas Creeper) and keep on rotation until New Year's.

I have a favorite Christmas song, and my affection for this ditty can be traced directly to this guy:

The Little Drummer Boy began its life as a song, but it eventually followed in the footsteps of Rudolf and Frosty and became a TV special.  As scripted by Romeo Muller, it may not have been ready for prime time.  Muller had huge success transferring Rudolf from turntable to TV, but he went considerably darker in tone with this one.  Our hero is orphaned by a gang of thieves, who slaughter his parents and burn down the farm.  Merry Christmas, kids!  After some nasty misadventures with a carnival owner, the Boy, biblically named Aaron, follows That Star to Bethlehem, hoping to heal his injured lamb (yes, it's a story about a boy and his sheep, alert the fetishists).  He has no gift to give the newborn messiah except a song on his drum, which does the trick.  Bah rum ba bum bum.

After airing The Little Drummer Boy annually for years, NBC began to get complaints that the story reflected racist, anti-Arab values, and I don't disagree with that. 

Jose Ferrar voiced the villain and gave rise to
accusations of racism.  The show included
elegantly smooth narration by Greer Garson.

That may be one reason the program, from the prolific Rankin-Bass studio, is not as fondly remembered as Rudolf and others in their catalogue.  The show is also centered squarely on the religious story of the first Christmas, as opposed to other beloved Christmas specials which focused on reindeer, snowmen, and towns Santa forgot.

I haven't seen this program in many years, and I never hear anyone making an appointment to watch it on TV these days (it is run on ABC Family now).  But the song, which was a hit long before it was translated to television, continues to be one of the most recognizable of Christmas Carols. 

If you hate the Drummer Boy, blame the
Von Trapps. They took a Czech folk song and
turned it into the current tune.

For many years, "The Little Drummer Boy" was recorded strictly by choirs, and truthfully, it sounds a little less silly if a big group is intoning "barumb ba bum bum..."  But once Bing Crosby wrapped his bingle around it, every solo artist on the planet barumped their bum bum with it.  The usual holiday suspects like Johnnie Mathis, Andy Williams, and Rosemary Clooney all took their turn, and Stevie Wonder, the Jackson 5, Glen Campbell, and Johnny Cash soon got into the act.  I can only imagine what the versions by Joan Baez, Jimi Hendrix, and Ringo Starr sound like.  RuPaul sang it, as did Marlene Dietrich (hers was in German, and who doesn't enjoy a German Christmas song?).  Grace Jones sang it on Pee Wee's Playhouse, and the Animaniacs went back in time and sang it for the baby Jesus, just like our Drummer Boy.

Researching this entry required me to watch many, many versions of "The Little Drummer Boy."  This famous (or infamous) duet on Bing Crosby's final Christmas special almost turned me against my favorite song.  The story goes that Bowie hated the song, but agreed to duet only if he could sing counterpoint with "Peace On Earth."

This very special Dance Party deserves a Very Special Episode, which The West Wing gives us, courtesy of its first season.  A children's choir sings the song as the episode wraps up with a funeral for a homeless veteran. 

The president's secretary Mrs. Laningham also attends the
funeral. In an earlier scene, in her quietly reserved way, she
relates the story of the deaths of her twin sons in Vietnam
on Christmas Eve, 1970.

Aaron Sorkin won an Emmy for writing this episode, and Richard Schiff also won for his performance in it.  This clip reinforces my faith in the ability of music to heighten emotion, and restores "The Little Drummer Boy" to the top of my Christmas Hit Parade.  Happy Hols, everybody!

Friday Dance Party: On The Morrow

Karen Morrow in I Had A Ball.

This week's Dance Party is actually last week's.  In the spirit of "the dog ate my homework," this website ate my final draft, and I was so pissed I gave up.  But our star turned 77 last week, and she's been one of my favorites for decades, so she deserves some Dance Party love, even a week late.

If this is how you know Karen Morrow, you're missing out.  About 5 years after sitcom smash Bewitched left the airwaves, it was somebody's bright idea to create a sequel of sorts.  Pre-teen Tabitha, daughter witch in the series, was given a case of what is known in daytime TV as SORAS (Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome), and became a girl in her 20s, seeking a career and a love life (think That Girl without the charm).  None of the surviving principles from Bewitched wanted anything to do with this thing, though I've read that Bernard Fox's Dr. Bombay made a few appearances, as did the nosy neighbors the Kravitzes.  The show lasted only one season, and included in its cast Karen Morrow, playing Aunt Minerva, who seemed to be an amalgamation of Bewitched's Aunt Clara and Endora.  I'm sad to report that this was Karen's only sustained national attention.  She continued to guest on various sitcoms and variety shows, but her first love remains where she belongs, the stage.

Karen Morrow was the go-to belter on Broadway during the 60s, starring in a string of unfortunate shows for which she received glowing reviews.  She never had that big hit which may have insured her name be remembered, though in truth, the era in which Broadway stars became household names had already passed.  Still, our Karen should be better known today than she is, and I'm sorry that, if people remember her, it's likely to be for that silly sitcom above.

Morrow did have some success with revivals, such as this Off-
Broadway mounting of Boys from Syracuse.  She also added
her signature belt to a string of shows at City Center, including
The Most Happy Fella.  But her Broadway resume does not
measure up to her talent.

Regrettably, her Great White Way endeavors aren't well-remembered, though her debut may have had some traction had it not been for her temperamental costar.  I Had A Ball took place at Coney Island, and was structured around the questionable talents of comic Buddy Hackett. 


Undisciplined comics such as Buddy Hackett have no business attempting the focused marathon of a Broadway run.  It was his first attempt at a book show, and his lack of training (or sustainable talent, if you asked me) caused him to become bored with the 8-show-a-week routine.  He soon started acting up, inserting his own smutty material into what was meant to be a family show.  I Had A Ball lasted only a few hundred performances.

Nobody could get this one to work.

Our Karen was also part of the prestigious flop The Grass Harp, which included in the cast Barbara Cook (in her final book musical to date), with Truman Capote providing the source material.  This one lasted only a week on Broadway, but the character Morrow created, an over-the-top evangelist named Miss Babylove, stopped the show with her number. 

Though it lasted only a week on Broadway, The Grass Harp's Miss Babylove had a bit of an afterlife.  The show actually began in Michigan, but when it transferred to New York, original star Celeste Holm was deemed too weak of voice and too old of age, so the role went to Karen.  The show has been attempted since, with Elaine Stritch playing Babylove, and believe it or not, Cass Elliot was set to make her musical theatre debut in the role before the funding dried up.  Not a bad legacy for a one-week wonder.

I first came across Karen Morrow too many years ago to count, on a syndicated talk show helmed by Steve Allen.  I still remember wondering who the hell this powerhouse singer was, as she belted a remarkable rendition of "Time After Time." 

Karen Morrow at her best: belting a showtune.

I started to bump into Ms. Morrow on other talk shows, particularly Merv Griffin's, who was smart to make good use of her as a singer and lively conversationalist.  There used to be several nice clips of her appearances on YouTube, but those have recently been removed for copyright reasons.  I hate that.

Everybody in the business of musical theater loves Karen Morrow.  Here she is with her best buddy Nancy Dussault, Joanne Worley, and Jason Graae peeking overhead.

I was lucky enough to see Karen Morrow twice in person (so far).  The second time I saw her was in a big revival of Sondheim's Follies in Long Beach, CA, in the mid-90s. 

Karen's buddy Charles Nelson Reilly had better luck.  He
was able to transfer his Broadway stardom to TV. They
can be heard singing "Baby, It's Cold Outside" on an album
of Broadway folks, recorded for AIDS charities.

That show was headlined by Juliet Prowse (a previous visitor to the Dance Party) and Shani Wallis, and included in its cast opera legend Yma Sumac and a very, very, VERY old Dorothy Lamour (sidebar: Lamour was so old she could not remember her lyrics.  She toddled out to center stage, led by a chorus boy, stood stock still and warbled "Broadway Baby" with the conductor shouting her next lyrics from the pit. Sad.  But unforgettable).  Anyway, our Karen belted out "I'm Still Here;"  there is a grainy clip of that performance here.

This is the show I saw years ago at
Studio One in West Hollywood.

But the first time I saw Karen Morrow live was more special.  She teamed up with her friend Nancy Dussault (another 60s Broadway stalwart who appeared on this Dance Party) for a cabaret act which they have performed time to time over the years.  I saw an early version of it in West Hollywood, years and years ago.  Studio One was the big dance club of L.A. at the time, catering to partying gays, and the owners had created a small cabaret room adjacent to the main club.  Neither room was soundproofed, so anyone performing in The Backlot, as the cabaret was called, had to put up with that unrelenting disco bass beat which shook the walls.  It was a noble effort, that cabaret room.

This is the annual float from Studio One for the annual Gay Pride parade, peopled with employees and clientele.  I used to giggle at the thought of the upscale cabaret audience bumping into these scantily clad boys in the hallways leading to the bathrooms, which both rooms in the club shared.

As for Karen and Nancy, they gave a dynamite show.  Their talents complimented each other beautifully, and were reminiscent of Mary Martin and Ethel Merman performing together (in fact, the centerpiece of their routine was the long duet those two earlier divas had performed back in the 1950s, when they were the Queens of Broadway).

Morrow has had a nice career on regional stages and on tour, playing all the big brassy dames of Broadway's Golden Age.  This is Dolly, of course, but she also played Reno Sweeney, Annie Oakley, Molly Brown,  Mrs. Lovett, Oliver's Nancy and Call Me Madam's Sally Adams.

Over the years, Karen has become an expert interpreter of Jerry Herman's music, and has appeared in many tribute concerts and cabaret evenings which feature his catalogue.  Herman's wide-eyed simplicity and unabashed sentimentality are perfectly suited to Morrow's open style of showbizzy performance.  You'll recognize all the other belters here; Carol Channing, Leslie Uggams, and Rita Moreno all join Karen, with Jerry at the piano (you'll never find a tribute to Jerry Herman happening anywhere which he himself does not attend, and usually participate in).

This week's Dance Party, which is really last week's, comes from a Jerry Herman tribute.  You'll recognize the Hollywood Bowl, where everyone gathered in 1994 to pay homage to Jerry;  Karen is singing a song from one of his flops, Dear World. 

That attempt to musicalize The Madwoman of Chaillot didn't succeed too well (though it won Angela Lansbury one of her Tonys), but it spawned this power ballad which continues to have life.  A belated Happy Birthday to Karen Morrow.  Keep on belting!

Friday Dance Party: A Funny Thing Happened On The Way Through The Alps

It's too early to call the coroner, even with the deadly comments regarding The Sound of Music Live.  This kind of event programming may have been bloodied by those reactions (and the show itself marred by two pretty stiff performances), but Live Television seems to be back.

Well, the public has spoken.  Despite universally negative reviews and a particularly virulent explosion on social media, the Public At Large loved this week's live broadcast of The Sound of Music. 

The power, and dread, of social media can be
daunting. Bette Midler had Broadway success
in a recent solo play, but when asked if she
would consider returning in a big musical
(both Dolly and Mame have been mentioned),
she revealed she could not handle the
onslaught of snark she would have to endure
on Twitter and Facebook.

It broke some substantial ratings records, and even that 19-35 demo which advertisers are so inclined to drool over watched the show.  Was it any good?  Well, many people thought it was an absolute abomination, with no redeeming features;  those folks have an elitist sensibility, I think, and cannot help but compare the broadcast to the film version, which has gained iconic status over the years.  Better not mess with Julie Andrews.

It's Apples and Oranges. Or at least, Apples and Applesauce, comparing the stage version to the film.  Underwood was in a no-win situation with theatrical types, who have pounded her performance into the ground. No, she wasn't much good (though she sounded fine in her numbers), but it was her participation which made the project happen.  It is no surprise to me that she brought in big ratings;  after all, before she became a country star, she was first and foremost a product of television.  Millions watched her weekly as she rose to win American Idol; it can be legitimately argued that her career was actually CREATED by TV viewers.  Why wouldn't they support her?

I'll confess that some of the show bored me (as any and all stage productions of The Sound of Music have always done), but there were many reasons to stick with it. 


Five time Tony winner Audra McDonald doesn't need another award, but she's gonna get one, come Emmy time.

Everybody seems to agree that Audra McDonald emerged from the project unscathed (look for an Emmy nomination there), and I think Christian Borle as Max and particularly Laura Benanti as Elsa were also worth watching. 

No one complained about stage vets
Laura Benanti and Christian Borle.

I mentioned on Facebook that I was very glad this project got off the ground, as it will now preserve the original stage show for posterity.  Yes, maybe we'd all prefer that the leading role had not been attempted by country singer Carrie Underwood, but you know what?  I give her big props for stepping out of her comfort zone and attempting something new;  the fact that that attempt occurred in front of 18.5 million people makes it even more courageous. 

Underwood's decision to tackle this
project displays courage, not hubris.

And those who insist the role should have been played by an actress with legit stage cred, well, the project may have been better but most likely would not have been made.  The economics of producing this gigantic musical (I've read the total budget exceeded 9 million dollars) required some bold thinking, and there is not a stage performer on the planet who would have enticed 18 and a half million people to their television.

Craig Zadan and Neil Meron are responsible for what critics thought was a trainwreck.  They also shepherded Hairspray to the big screen and earned the Best Picture Oscar for Chicago.  Their stage-to-small screen efforts include Bette Midler's Gypsy, Matthew Broderick's Music Man, and the Kathy Bates/Alan Cumming Annie.  Their racially diverse version of Cinderella included Whitney Houston and Bernadette Peters;  they remain committed to the preservation of the American musical.

So, despite a critical drubbing, there's money in those ratings numbers, and I have little doubt that another such event will eventually occur.  I love the idea of revisiting classic musicals;  producers Craig Zadan and Neil Meron agree, as they are responsible for a number of stage-to-screen transfers. 

Yes, please, let's have a Mame, but one on film rather than
live.  Christine Baranski and Harriet Harris as Mame and Vera
are perfect, and as the mousy Gooch? Kristin Chenoweth
would tear it up.

I know Mame remains on their radar, though I hope they will eventually produce a TV remake on film, rather than a live performance.  No, I think the next live musical should be a slightly  smaller one, which could take place on an actual stage, in front of an actual audience. 

One of the complaints I heard regarding The Sound of Music was the fact that there was no audience, but really, how could there have been?  The producers took over an entire sound stage in Long Island in order to create what were pretty substantial sets.  To produce the show on a stage would necessarily shrink the production, which would not have been wise this first time out.  I enjoyed the look of the production, though others complained it looked like a soap opera.  The TV direction here was problematic:  there's no one around anymore who knows how to direct this kind of thing. Too bad Ralph Nelson isn't still here; he's the guy who brought the original Cinderella to  live TV (Go here for that Dance Party).

But next time, why not place the show in front of an audience?  I have a number of suggestions, but by far the one which I think would be the most appreciated is this one:

This film adaptation was a disaster.  The Sondheim score, one of his early gems, was largely dropped, and the charm of the show was surgically removed as well.  The piece is very theatrical, with an opening number which explains exactly that.  It's a single set, a smallish cast, and perfect for a live TV presentation with an audience present. 

Nathan Lane won the Tony for the most
recent Broadway revival, and I would
certainly place him in the leading role for TV.

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum cries out to be archived in a version true to its original production.  Its fame does not come near that of The Sound of Music, so the cast should be peopled with actors with lots of recognition, but with musical comedy chops as well.  Nathan Lane has a national presence and must play the lead; I would surround him with a few folks with even bigger name recognition. 

Paging Robin Williams.  No, that's not Tevye, though he'd be a great one, but I suggest him to play Senex, the henpecked and randy father in Forum.  His vocal performance in the animated Aladdin proved he can sing (though the vocal requirements made of Senex are minimal).

Robin Williams would be perfectly cast as Senex, and would not be thrown by a live audience nor a live camera.  And as his domineering wife, Domina?

Kathy Bates belted the hell out of
Miss Hannigan in Annie, and would be
swell as the battle ax who inspired the
classic line, "Never fall in love during
a total eclipse."

Why, Bette Midler of course.  But as stated above, the Divine Miss M is hesitant to subject herself to Social Media Snark, so Kathy Bates will do just fine. 

Jesse Tyler Ferguson earns Emmy nods
for Modern Family, but has stage creds
from On The Town to Putnam County
Spelling Bee. He should shave his
current beard and play Hysterium.

Marcus Lycus, the procurer who lives next door, would be great fun for my favorite Christian Borle, and as the ancient Erronius, I'd invite one of our elder comic statesmen, perhaps Carl Reiner or even Mel Brooks.

Who's this guy?  Why, he's our Hero, of course.  Matthew James Thomas is currently playing Pippin on Broadway, a performance I have seen (and described here).  He would be a sweetly goofy Hero in Forum.

I'd turn to Broadway to cast the young lovers: Matthew James Thomas, Broadway's current Pippin, would be great as Hero, and there are any number of funny ingenues in New York right now who could handle Philia (or perhaps there's a likely candidate over on the Disney Channel).

"I AM A PARADE!" And Cheyenne Jackson
will be too, as pompous, vain, and gullible
Miles Gloriosus.

I know I'm daydreaming, as Forum certainly does not have the fame of The Sound of Music, but its relatively small cast and single set requirement would make it a great show to be broadcast live in front of an audience.  And if some of those well known names are attached, it could bring in some substantial numbers.

Perhaps those numbers won't match The Sound of Music's;  there was certainly a curiosity factor with this week's live event which may dissipate with the next one. 

Maybe Capt. von Trapp should have had a
beach scene. This guy's performance was
the real disappointment.

And it cannot be denied that, though Carrie Underwood's performance disappointed almost everyone, her name recognition is through the roof, having worked her way up the American Idol ladder in front of millions of viewers week after week. 

Nobody expected Underwood to wow us, but Stephen Moyer was expected to be good.  His performance was the big letdown, as far as I'm concerned.  I've never seen nor heard of him, he's from True Blood, and I haven't watched Vampire TV since Dark Shadows.  Apparently he has some musical cred, as he was in a concert staging of Chicago, but if this performance was any indication, his Billy Flynn must have Belly Flopped.

There can really only be one source for this week's Dance Party, and I've chosen one of the weaker songs in the score.  I am very pleased that the roles of Max and Elsa, which were severely reduced in the film version, can now be seen as the true supporting leads they are.  Both their songs were presented on Thursday, and were brand new to viewers who are only familiar with the film's soundtrack. 

The decision to remove the two songs sung by Max and Elsa for the film was probably a good one, but I'm glad to see them back.

Let's face it, neither tune is particularly memorable, nor do they stand up to the rest of the score, which is filled with songs you can't get out of your head.  The perky rhythm of "No Way To Stop It" belies its theme, which is, after all, appeasement of the Nazis for personal, selfish reasons.  But we get a nice glimpse of Borle and Benanti here, with Benanti particularly impressive.  Let's hope, this time next year, the Dance Party will be presenting "Comedy Tonight!"