NY Reviews: A Raw, Transcendent Revival of "Cabaret"
Plus my take on Sutton Foster and Aaron Tveit in "Sweeney Todd" and the new play "Stereophonic"
Wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome, play-goers, to this latest edition of my newsletter. I’ve got three reviews for you of shows playing on Broadway right now: a fabulous revival of “Cabaret,” a new principal cast in “Sweeney Todd,” and a compelling new play, “Stereophonic.”
Review: A “Cabaret” Like Never Before
It begins when you walk in the door. Not the main theater door, a side door. Then down a utility corridor lit with green and red lights, the low bass of club music pulsing from within. An usher puts a sticker on top of your phone camera: “Keep it in the Kit Kat Club,” it reads. Another hands you a shot of apricot schnapps as you step inside. Scantily-clad dancers stand on pedestals, posing and moving with the music. A few seemingly-impromptu performances pop up as you explore the club, formerly the August Wilson Theatre, now totally transformed into the Kit Kat Club. It’s a crush of bodies, totally congested, confusing: you’ve never had this experience coming to a Broadway show. But at this near-perfect revival of Kander & Ebb’s “Cabaret,” directed by Rebecca Frecknall, nothing is as it was.
In the theater space itself, you see the orchestra seats have been leveled out to be even with the stage, with cocktail tables at the front and patrons dining on a full pre-show dinner. (Scenic and Theater design is by Tom Scutt.) Seats have been added on the stage itself, including a second mezzanine(!), creating an intimate theater-in-the-round. The band is on two more, narrower mezzanines on the left and right sides of the stage. Tassels are everywhere, including on lamps that hang down over the audience. More dancers appear, performing incredibly sexy, street-meets-Fosse dance. (The Prologue direction is by Jordan Fein; the thrilling choreography by Julia Cheng.) Like everything in this production, it appears casual and loose but is tightly constructed underneath.
While the theater redesign is elaborate, the set design itself is quite simple, minimalist even: a circular stage with two concentric turntables and a center platform that raises up to reveal bright lights on its side, plus four posts framing it with room for a few props or to hang a coat.
And then it begins. A long drum roll. Lamps rise up. The Emcee (a meticulous, incredible Eddie Redmayne) ascends from below into the center of the stage. “Wilkommen” is a great opening number any time it’s performed, but nothing prepared me for this one: a bonanza that left the audience screaming with delight at its grand conclusion. And we’re off, into the truly greatest production of “Cabaret” I’ve ever seen.
The musical, with book by Joe Masteroff, charts an American writer’s arrival in Berlin in 1929, where he meets the denizens of a club, including the performer Sally Bowles. He ends up living with her in a flat rented by an older German woman, who in turn falls in love with a Jewish German fruit seller. Among much partying, the characters are figuring out what to do as the Nazi party begins its ascent.
Frecknall (the director) has said she’s never seen a production of Cabaret but has been obsessed with the show since childhood. Her take on the material is precise. The book scenes are unhurried, completely free of gimmicks. They rely instead on very good acting to hold our attention. Frecknall places similar faith in subtlety during the show’s ballads, letting the gorgeous score do all the work. Sally Bowles (a delightfully unhinged Gayle Rankin) performs “Maybe This Time” to a slower tempo than usual and from a single spot on the turntable as it slowly rotates. I’ve never heard that song, or this entire score, played so well by the band—the saxophone soared, the brass glittered. (The music supervision and conducting is by Jennifer Whyte; Nick Lidster’s sound design made you really feel the “live-ness” of the music.) Other standout songs are performed by Broadway legend Bebe Neuwirth, who gives the landlady Fraulein Schneider a rich complexity. Her “What Would You Do,” where she wrestles with whether to leave her Jewish lover now that the Nazis are rising to power, culminates in a powerful ending that made me see this character’s genuine struggle in a new light.
In contrast, the cabaret acts interspersed throughout (which comment on the story) are downright raunchy. In "Two Ladies,” in which the Emcee sings of the two people he shares his bed with, each of the “ladies” (one a man) pulls on black latex gloves at the start of the number in preparation for sex. Toilet plungers also show up, and not to unclog a toilet. My entire row was falling over themselves with laughter. These and many other choices give the proceedings a ragged, visceral feeling, and yet every movement, every acting choice, is completely polished and intentional.
Cheng’s choreography is in deep dialogue with Bob Fosse, who directed the 1972 film version of the show. Arms, hands and fingers lead many movements, swirling up and out. Dancers hang their whole torsos down, adding to the raw, unhinged feeling. But Cheng also gives the movement a modern, street edge, eliminating any potential mustiness of a revival.
Another difference in this production is its take on the Emcee, played by Redmayne. Whereas others have made him a victim of the Nazis—revealing a “Jude” yellow star at the very end, or a pink triangle, the symbol used by the Nazis for gays—this one seems to make him complicit with them. He conducts the company as they sing the faux-Nazi anthem “Tomorrow Belongs to Me,” and leads the company in a somber march in the finale. The costumes (also from Scutt) change from gender-queer to masculine. Eventually everyone’s in a tan suit. The free-wheeling days of the Weimar Republic are yielding to the rigidity and conformity of Nazi Germany. Rankin as Sally Bowles sings “Cabaret” in her tan suit with rage from start to end. She’s made her choice to keep partying through it all, but there seems to be no joy in it for her.
The genius of “Cabaret” is how many levels it works on at once: a deft social commentary that’s also a roaring good time; a play of ideas and a story about everyday people. This production’s excellence in every department brings out all of these and more. What good is sitting alone in your room when you could go see this brilliant show!
Open run playing at the August Wilson Theatre on Broadway. Disclosure: I saw the show in previews, so there may be changes before it is “frozen” ahead of its opening on April 21st.
New Principals Soar in “Sweeney”
Last season’s ravishing revival of Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler’s perfect musical Sweeney Todd has recently switched out its principals. Though I saw it last summer (review here), I wanted to see how Aaron Tveit and Sutton Foster did in the lead roles of Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett. I loved it even more than the first time. My heart raced at the dramatic climax—I was truly scared! Some people ride roller-coasters. I go to the theatre.
A lot of people were suspicious about Tveit as Sweeney, first and foremost because he’s a tenor: how could he sing that gorgeous score as richly as baritone Josh Groban? But I found him just as strong as Groban in his singing, and stronger in his acting. At climactic moments, he wielded a sharp physicality—lunging to kill the Judge from across the platform—which read as apt mania for the character. Tveit ably brought out Sweeney’s darkness, cloaking his face in vacant and brooding expressions.
Foster was less zany than Annaleigh Ashford, her performance more controlled and nuanced. (For more on the many actresses who have played this delectable role, see this great article from the Washington Post.) She brought out Mrs. Lovett’s humor, but also her calculating, manipulating edge. She and Tveit had palpable chemistry, making “A Little Priest” delightful and “By The Sea” an absolute hoot.
When I saw it last year, actress Ruthie Ann Miles was temporarily out of the show, busy wonderfully leading a short-run production of “The Light in the Piazza”. I was delighted to see her this time around playing the Beggar Woman, a crazed, destitute woman who keeps popping up to ask for money. Where other performers have given this role a flatness, her portrayal was rich, clearly underlaid by a well-developed back story. She kept her dirty hair in front of her face much of the time, instead using her body to convey the character as she hunched over, totally diminished. Yet in a poignant moment towards the end, she showed a tenderness. This range gave the performance a lot of nuance. Her Tony nomination for the role was well-deserved. Producers, take note: Miles should be your next lead!
“Heartstopper” star Joe Locke was another new addition to the cast, giving the abused boy Toby a lovely earnestness and singing beautifully.
This production closes soon. If you are in New York before then, do not miss it. I doubt we’ll see a better revival of this masterpiece in our lifetimes.
Playing at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre on Broadway through May 5.
The Messy Creative Process in “Stereophonic”
The band members and their sound engineers are talking, arguing, getting ready. And then, finally, the band starts to play. It’s loud and it’s groovy. In character, the actors sing and play all the instruments. These moments were the highlight of David Adjmi’s new play “Stereophonic,” with original songs by Will Butler and directed by Daniel Aukin. All of the personal issues at play during the dialogue scenes continue right on through the playing of the songs: characters avoiding eye contact, playing with anger or sadness or euphoria, and illustrating how a collaborative creative process can be fraught with strong personalities and disagreements.
The engrossing story concerns a 1970s-era band, similar in many respects to Fleetwod Mac, recording an album. In the band are two couples plus the single drummer; two sound engineers round out the cast. Their arguments are about matters personal and creative. The band’s leader (Tom Pecinka) is obsessive and pushes his bandmates relentlessly towards his vision; the lead singer (a very good Sarah Pidgeon) has written a #1 song but struggles with insecurity; the keyboardist (Juliana Canfield) leaves her husband (Will Brill) because he’s always drunk or high. All of these conflicts layer and develop in the show’s 3-hour run time. Comedy leavens the proceedings, including a hilarious riff about house boats.
David Zinn’s set design makes it feel like we have truly entered a 1970s recording studio as soon as we walk into the theater. The recording booth is set behind the studio’s glass wall, creating a sonic separation between the sound engineers and the band. This allows for creative storytelling. For example, at some points the band is interacting in the recording area, silent to us, while the engineers are having a different scene in the foreground, audible to us. Even more interesting, there are other times when members of the band are having a “private moment,” made audible to the engineers and audience with a turn of a switch on the sound board. Sound design, by Ryan Rumery, has rarely been so central to the plot.
The cast, many making their Broadway debuts, are across-the-board stellar. Their characters feel lived-in and pitch-perfect. Because there’s no “star” or “leads,” the show makes a strong case for a new Tony Award category for “Best Ensemble,” which has been a topic of discussion for a few years.
Instead of the usual rising action and climax structure that shapes many plays, this one felt more “slice of life.” Its ending was inconclusive and a little flat. I wished for a catharsis or broader commentary. Still, the play is quite good—engaging and funny and full of drama. At its core, “Stereophonic” is about the creative process and how very human concerns for input, recognition and psychological safety show up in the messiness of making music.
Playing through July 7 at the Golden Theatre on Broadway. Disclosure: I saw the show in previews, so there may be changes before it is “frozen” ahead of its opening on April 19th.