Merlyn: A New Musical

directed by Scott Schwartz

produced by Emily Brodsky

at the Loeb Mainstage

through November 20

Oscar Wilde once said, "Ambition is the last refuge of failure." Nothing could be truer when sitting through Merlyn: A New Musical, now playing on the Loeb Mainstage. Though it desperately wants to be taken seriously, this original show falls flat on most every level and eventually devolves into a ludicrous and gratuitous display.

The musical's book, written by Scott Schwartz '95, details the coming of age of Merlyn, the magician of British lore. Instead of focusing on one or two more poignant developments in Merlyn's life, the story myopically unfolds as a collection of unrelated and uninteresting events. Unable to affect the structure of an epic, Schwartz overdevelops the plot to the point at which it collapses, losing foundation. The plot lacks any long-term coherence, for Merlyn's mission in life changes from scene to scene. There is no one clear goal, no one definite crescendo which the audience can anticipate. As a result, Merlyn's personal triumphs and defeats ring hollow and are boring.

The plot's weaknesses are punctuated by the script's unbelievably stilted nature. The lines delivered are not normal dialogue: What would normally be inferred from speech has become speech itself. When a character acts haughtily, another points to him and says, "He is arrogant." In discussing Merlyn's ability to use his power for evil, a character simply says, "He is a bad man." The absence of finesse and subtlety in the script manages to deflate most scenes, transforming supposedly serious scenes into laughable displays of overacting. Consequently, Merlyn has the dramatic tension of a "Saved by the Bell" episode and the character development of a cartoon.

When not spouting ridiculous lines, the actors are mired in never-ending musical numbers. The many beautiful voices in the cast are wasted on the droning music and simplistic lyrics by Bryan McAdams. There are many times in the show in which music plus lyrics does not equal a song. Lacking distinct melodies, strong choruses and intelligible rhyme schemes, a lot of the songs seem forced and out of place. The incessant background music for much of the dialogued scenes sounds like something straight out of a Psychic Friends Network infomercial.

Many songs are coupled with overchoreographed dances in which the ensemble can hardly catch up with the steps and the music. It is as if the dances were created by choreographer Teddi White way before the cast's dancing talent was ever assessed. The motley crew of a chorus stumbles through complicated ballet numbers, managing to remain unsynchronized and appear uncomfortable throughout.

However, the most disturbing aspect of the show's music and book is that Merlyn is more of a Greatest Hits compilation of Musical Theater than an original production. A lot of the scenes are strikingly reminiscent stagings of scenes from other shows. Merlyn's solo in captivity is straight out of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. When bawdy types convene in a tavern, one expects the Master of the House from Les Miserables to drop in. And, when the ensemble gropes at and pleads suggestively for Merlyn to "Come, come," they might as well be addressing Pippin. What is true for some of the staging is true for some of the melodies as well. The music to King Ambrosius' "Worlds Doubting Me" and some intermittent bars in Act One echo tunes from Les Miserables.

The actors do their best to maintain some sort of serio-dramatic tone throughout the play. Without a strong script and meaningful character development, players are forced to rely on exaggerated gestures and movement to get their points across. Perhaps overemphasizing Merlyn's innocence, James Patterson, as the title character, remains wideeyed and blank-faced during most of the play. David Travis as Theloc, Merlyn's Obi-Wan Kenobi-like guru, manages to make the best of the show's most preposterous fortune-cookie-like lines. Sometimes, however, Travis, in an effort to maintain some sort of credibility for his character, acts too seriously. His furrowed eyebrows and deep voice only make it seem that Travis himself is holding back his own laughter at some of Theloc's more contrived metaphors and crazed motions. Strongest in the cast is Matthew Thibedeau as King Ambrosius, the powerful yet deposed leader. His appropriate dramatic tone and understated delivery adds a certain depth to his otherwise two-dimensional character.

One cannot help but think if Merlyn had been either played as a farce or on a much smaller scale there would have been the necessary balance of ambition and talent to make it a success, or at least entertaining. What we have at the Mainstage is a whole lot of ambition being spread thinly over many different elements. As a result, the music and book are weak and the technical aspects suffer (sets and costumes are handled with the grace of an elementary school production).

As it stands, Merlyn plays like a bad game of Dungeons and Dragons: lots of bogus sorcery and very little excitement.