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If Sue had seen the show that night, I'm sure her smile would have been no less beatific. For true believers in Frankie Valli, Jersey Boys is heaven.
West Side Story (***1/4) -- The talking points of this revival certainly stoked my expectations as I settled in to watch the legendary collaboration of Leonard Bernstein, music and orchestrations, and Stephen Sondheim, lyrics and arrangements. Arthur Laurents, who wrote the original book over 50 years ago, now directs its latest Broadway incarnation, and In the Heights phenom Lin-Manuel Miranda has translated some of the Sondheim lyrics into Spanish.
But Laurents' nods toward authentic Hispanic flavor yield meager dividends. Action and pacing have gone slack, stripped of their original gangland urgency and menace, and the actors are overmiked. Though he nails "Maria" fairly forcefully, Matt Cavenaugh is a disappointingly generic Broadway hero as Tony, rightly snubbed by Tony Award nominators. His Juliet, Josefina Scaglione, adds welcome sparkle as she primps for the dance and basks in Tony's love. Yet the energy she pours into grieving for her fallen love doesn't make us wonder how she'll recharge her batteries for the next performance.
So Karen Olivo, spitting defiance as Anita, steals the show from the lovers more decisively than ever. "America" still sizzles when Olivo and the sassy Latinas swing their pleated dresses. Bernstein's score retains its jazzy bounce in the "Jet Song" and "Cool," stills soars with unabashed romance in "Tonight" and "Somewhere."
Truth is, if West Side Story and In the Heights swapped theaters, they'd have gotten equal ratings. Aside from the ham-fisted sound, the Palace Theatre has two problems. Prime orchestra seats are insufficiently raked, so when a family of Neanderthals settled in front of us a couple of minutes before the curtain, I was obliged to sit up tall and behave like a windshield wiper in order to choose which half of the stage I wished to see. Planted in the heart of Times Square, the Palace also seems to be a magnet for tourists and chatty boors. Behind us, I could hear learned commentary on every song, and in front of me, the teenager had to tweet and confer with her Mom during the final scene.
At intermission, I inadvertently stepped on a neighbor's box of Raisinets. I'd do it again.
9 to 5 (***) -- With Lily Tomlin and Dabney Coleman as the prime antagonists, Dolly Parton and Jane Fonda layered on as lagniappe, I remember liking the original 9 to 5 and its sexist, backstabbing office ambiance. Power to the superstars!
OK, so it wasn't a flick that I took seriously, and the musical version can't be accused of bringing any additional intellectual protein to the table. Au contraire, company boss Franklin Hart Jr. has now morphed from a mere sexist pig into a foaming rampaging sexist buffalo played by the estimable Marc Kudisch without a trace of the nuance and dignity that Coleman brought to the role.
Without that dignity, the indignities suffered by Hart at our heroines' hands lose most of their comic tang. Not all. Reduced to the cartoon equivalent of Gaston in Beauty and the Beast, Kudisch manages to make us love his misfortunes. At the depth of his sufferings, there's a James Brown raunch to his "Always a Woman" solo.
In fact, there's abundant fresh life in the new songs Parton writes for the musical, assuring fans of the movie's title tune that there are more goodies where that came from. Megan Hilty and Stephanie J. Block, who fill the Parton and Fonda roles respectively, are alums of the Broadway and touring versions of Wicked, so you can count on plentiful vocal voltage when they're unleashed on the score. Hopefully, they'll answer the call when a 9 to 5 tour is mustered.
Allison Janney, of West Wing TV fame, has never toured in anything, but she is perfection in the Tomlin role. Can't sing a note, but with her crusty latter-day Lauren Bacall sass, that never matters. What does hurt the show is Patricia Resnick's inexperience at writing big musical playscripts.
She calls for a string of three fantasias, each dolled-up to full musical extravaganza proportions, as Hart's underlings dream of his comeuppance. And most high schoolers can divine that company newbie Judy Bernly is only there to introduce us to the office and bridge the chasm between Violet and the buxom Doralee. Yet Block is called upon to sing the penultimate power ballad, "Get Out and Stay Out," long after we've stopped caring about her, let alone her worthless former husband. And that drags on embarrassingly long, forcing Block to block the door she's supposedly kicking the man out of.