Susan Schulman's revival of this classic musical was widely praised in the mainstream press. USA Today, Time Magazine, and Newsweek positively bubbled over with appreciation for 'a good, old-fashioned crowd-pleaser.' In fact, the production has many things working in its favor. Although he seems engaged in a constant struggle not to mimic Robert Preston's performance in the original production and the film, Craig Bierko is a reasonably charismatic leading man. What his renditions of the classic songs 'Trouble' and '76 Trombones' lack in depth character, they more than make up for in energy. Rebecca Luker delivers a surprisingly arresting performance as Marian the Librarian, and her voice remains rich and beautiful. The choreography, too, is largely enjoyable to watch, though it certainly doesn't break with any conventions. Unfortunately, a few concrete and probably financially-motivated decisions put a damper on the proceedings and prevent the show from achieving the giddy heights of, say, the recent Kiss Me, Kate revival. First, the sound is grossly overamplified. Sound design has become the favorite target of cantankerous critics in recent years, but in this case, any complaints are more than warranted. Most of the people sitting near me were unable to understand the lyrics of the faster songs, and when the full orchestra joined in, the sound from the speakers was noticeably distorted. On a related note, Schulman decided to produce the show with a relatively small cast. During what should be rousing and frenetic numbers performed by the townspeople, large areas of the stage are left empty. If the entire town has turned up for the Ice Cream Social, it is disconcerting that the only visible citizens are the sixteen or so named characters that the audience is already familiar with. The Music Man may be a fine place to bring the kids or to relive happy memories, but it is far from inspiring.
Contact
Contact defies easy categorization. Though it won the Tony Award for Best Musical and is billed as a Dance Play, the show contains almost no dialogue; rather, it consists of three seemingly-unrelated scenes performed in dance. Unlike a ballet, though, the three plots are explicit and are not subjugated to the dance.
Each vignette offers its own special pleasures. In the first, a dancing tableau-vivant of the Fragonard painting The Girl on the Swing, brings a disarmingly bawdy and slapstick flair to the more subdued trappings of the period. The second, which whimsically documents the liberation fantasies of a 1950s housewife, manages to disperse comic relief so widely that the result is not tragedy punctuated by humor but a remarkably entertaining dose of bittersweet.
'Contact,' the third piece and the entire second act, also deals with an apparently simplistic story but because its medium is so original, its dancing so masterful, and its dramatic structure so solid, its story seems rich and universal. Its final moments are surprising and surprisingly moving. But Contact is greater than the sum of its parts: the three pieces, within the context of the entire performance, take on even greater meaning. Experiences so entertaining, so moving, and so original are rare and should not be missed.
- Dan Wagner