Tony Awards, 1980, Evita

Well, 1980 was the year that Andrew Lloyd Weber broke open the door and claimed the rest of the decade for himself.   What surprised me about Evita was how close to Jesus Christ Superstar it was.   I always looked at Jesus Christ Superstar as an anomaly–after all, it’s the only one where Andrew Lloyd Weber really rocks, it’s the only one that has raw emotions, it’s the only one that even approaches edginess.   However, if you listen to the two back to back, you’ve got a lot in common, more in common than Evita and any of his works afterwords.

In a way this makes sense.   Weber has always been fascinated by the martyr figure, and while Jesus was certainly the world’s best known martyr, Weber couldn’t really go all out there in terms of him as a public personality, because he had to be sensitive about people’s religious beliefs (and even then, I might add, people still got offended by it.)   Evita, by comparison, is a much safer bet.   She was someone who was loved by the public, but also someone who wasn’t exactly a sanctimonious figure,  nobody claimed that she was entirely pure of heart.   And there’s a couple of interesting things that Weber brings out about these cults of personality–they almost have nothing to do with whatever the person stands for, or is actually doing.

Patti Lupone really knocked this out of the park, because believe me, if you’ve got a weak Evita, the rest of this show just goes straight down the drain no matter how good everyone else is.   The music is–sorta ok I guess.  It’s extremely repetitive, and while Jesus Christ Superstar certainly had its repeating themes, the ones here are much simpler.  However they vary it enough so that it doesn’t make your ears bleed or anything.   Also, this marks the transition of Andrew Lloyd Weber from shows that are about something, to shows that are largely pageantry.   Here the pageantry is largely part of the story, so it’s forgivable I guess, but later–oooooh later, style would definitely trump substance in every single manner.

Oh well, the only other show that year that came close was the unfairly forgotten Barnum.  Nobody really denies Evita its win.

Tony Awards, 1979, Sweeney Todd

There was never any doubt on this one.  Not only is Sondheim the Meryl Streep of the Tony’s getting nominated for any musical urp he lets out, this movie was the trendsetter of that season.

Sondheim switched gears here, and honestly he never made anything like this since–moving away from his character studies, he embraces the dark musical, completely undermining the toothy smiles and tap dancing that Broadway always had in large abundance.  (Want to know what bi-polar feels like?  Just chase this with Annie and you’ve just about got it.)   I wonder if the success of Annie allowed for this to have such an impact–because we’ve got quite another story of an impish redhead living in poverty right here.

We start with a dark undertone, and the darkness never relents.   I’m amazed at how well this play works, by breaking all the rules–by following such a penny dreadful pattern, by having all the characters being ghastly exaggerations.  It’s like watching a funhouse mirror.   The Phantom of the Opera’s ersatz darkness can’t hold a candle to this story.

Oh well, we’re done with the seventies.   Andrew Lloyd Weber is about to bust the door down and start things over again.

 

Tony Awards 1978, Ain’t Misbehavin’

One person who, if remembered at all, simply does not get enough credit is Ms. Nell Carter.   By the time the 80’s were over, she was a sit-com walk on, but in Ain’t Misbehavin’ she was a powerhouse vocalist who went a long way to giving this show its boozy piano-rag flavor.   The whole cast is great, bringing back an era gone by–but wisely, not pretending these times were better than the times they were in.

Ain’t Misbehavin’ is often considered the first example of (gasp!) the Jukebox Musical.   Unfortunately The Jukebox Musical has been done in such a manner since then, that it’s not complimentary anymore.   At the time, with all the care and creativity that this show had thrown into it, and also with the point of bringing Fats Waller so that everyone can hear his genius.  At the time, the Jukebox idea was refreshing–because this was seen as a sort of homage, rather than the more cynical Jukebox musicals that have come since, which basically throw together a bunch of songs that people are nostalgic for, whether they work well on the stage or not.

In any case, this was the great Tony Award winner of its time, and well deserved it.

Tony Awards, 1977: Annie

 

Many of the musicals I have revisited, I grew to like a lot more than I remembered.   Annie, however, is not one of them.  At first, while listening to this soundtrack I almost thought my mind would have changed, but unfortunately no.   Not to say it didn’t deserve a Tony–this musical was an outright smash, and brought the family musical to Broadway (which I have mixed feelings about, but attests to its influence if nothing else.)  Not to mention that Annie laid out the template for Disney which carried all the way through the Disney renaissance (outside of not being an orphan, how is The Little Mermaid all that different?)

Let’s start with the positives–Hard Knock Life, Maybe, Tomorrow, and We’d Like to Thank You Herbert Hoover are all great songs, and quite enjoyable to listen to.   The Herbert Hoover song in particular gives a wonderful view of depression era life which gives Annie a smidge more grounding than it otherwise would have.   Also its sarcastic tone is refreshing against the rest of the score.

Now for the downside–it might be appropriate for Annie’s characters to all be cartoonish–it was based off a comic strip after all–but these characters are really really annoying.   Miss Hannigan is a screeching harpy, the orphans are all cute and winsome, Daddy Warbucks is the grouch with the heart of gold, and Annie is so gosh-darned optimistic and spunky you’ll want to side with Miss Hannigan now and then.

The worst comes in when you get the screechy orphans coming in to sing songs being cute–other than Hard Knock life–their voices are just too shouty and shrill.   Oh and what about the shmaltzy stuff with FDR?   Ugh.

 

Tony Awards 1976: A Chorus Line

In a way it’s a shame that One became the identifying song for A Chorus Line.   When I was a kid I had the wrong impression of the show–I thought it was a silly gold lamé thing where people got in lines and kicked.   Really, the song is supposed to be generic–the characters are singing about the admiration they wish they could get, despite the fact that they are in a line where everyone moves and sings exactly the same, thus erasing their individuality.

And we really mine into their individuality–the rest of the show are all the characters telling their stories–woven into each other in such a manner that this group gets its own identity that’s far more interesting than the 2 minute piece they get to do in the end.   The other song that people might know is “What I Did For Love”  a big schmaltzy song about the love of dancing.  However, contextually the song is supposed to be schmaltzy–the woman singing this song is not singing what she believes so much as what she tells herself she believes.  She has to think of herself as doing a labor of love to make it all worth it.

The stories are mostly about growing up, which makes sense since most dancers are younger.  They are all desperate to get recognition and to get some stability, and they all have worked very hard.   It’s a montage of how all these people from all these different backgrounds have found themselves in the same situation.   The director delves into all their motivations and has them express their stories in a sort of group therapy that’s funny and touching.

The thing is, he’s not delving to get them to pull out a performance from their very souls–he’s delving to smooth out their edges so they can be a conform group where no individual really sticks out.     And the number at the end, as slick as it is, comes off as so much shallower than the group as we see them develop and let out their feelings.    And yet, that finale is very satisfying–it’s hard to say why.

1976 was a very strong season–many could argue that Chicago should have won.   Chicago has certainly eclipsed A Chorus Line, but A Chorus Line so much hit the moment–if you watch audiences you can hardly hear the finale for all their cheering, that I agree with the Tonys on this one.   Chicago is a great musical, but A Chorus Line really knocked it out of the park.

Tony Awards 1975, The Wiz

First, forget the terrible movie version (I swear half my reviews could start this way), the Broadway show The Wiz was an incredibly gutsy show from the start.   First, we get a black musical version of what must be one of the whitest stories there is–and the music is up-to-the-moment in tune with urban music of that time.   Then, their version is the most faithful to the book The Wizard of Oz, most of the things that happen here happens in the book (while the 1939 movie changes quite a bit.)   Third, it’s one thing if they remade some other children’s story, but The Wizard of Oz is such a beloved franchise that if they did the slightest thing off you’d hear howling from New York to LA and back again.

Fortunately they pulled this off perfectly–the music is punchy, the script sly, and there’s this incredible energy that thrums from this show from the design to the actors to the sets–nothing, and I mean nothing, was more deserving of the Tony Award in 1975.

The only unfortunate thing was that this show was so Zeitgeisty that by the time the movie came out (just three years later) the music was already out-of-date.    This was lightning in a bottle–the exact right show coming out with the exact right people at the exact right time.

Unfortunately the movie has none of this charm–we’ve got Diana Ross being the worst Dorothy ever, ugly urban sprawl, and Michael Jackson already doing his creepy man-child schtick (I know there’s people who love him, but I find him disturbing.)    But let’s not let that raincloud spoil this show, which really has it all.

Tony Awards, 1974: Raisin

Can I start out this review to say I love Debbie Allen in just about anything?   She has such a huge personality and adds such fire to whatever she’s in, that even when she shows up in an otherwise mediocre sitcom I have an internal thrill when she shows up.   Debbie Allen has that characteristic where whatever she shows up in, your eye just follows her around to see what she’s doing.

However, this isn’t the Debbie Allen show, this is Raisin, the musical version of A Raisin in the Sun–the play by Lorraine Hansberry.   What we get is a story about a black family trying to move ahead in America.  The father had recently died, and the mother inherited a large sum of money from life insurance.  Of course everybody has ideas as to how to spend it.   The mother wants to buy a nice house–which she does, but it’s in a white community that doesn’t exactly embrace them moving in.   The son wants to open a liquor store.  The daughter wants to go to school.

This show is very likable.    The score is not incredibly strong, but works pretty well despite that, and there’s no faulting the story as providing a backbone.  My only criticism is I simply don’t see the need to musicalize A Raisin in the Sun.  As a play it’s tight and touching and nearly perfect.  The musical lets a little air out of that balloon, just enough to distance the action from the audience so they don’t get drawn in.  Also while the play has a bittersweet ending, the musical’s ending is all out happy–which slightly undercuts the complex issues the story brings up.

Those are only minor quibbles though, of all the shows that year, Raisin certainly deserved a win.

 

Tony Awards, 1973, A Little Night Music

In 1973 there were only two real contenders for best musical–A Little Night Music and Pippin, I couldn’t argue with either one winning.  What’s interesting is how neatly the two balance off each other–everything that’s not in one is in the other.

A Little Night Music was Sondheim’s biggest hit, even pumping out a hot 40 song–Send in the Clowns.   It’s ambitious high-art themed around how love is temporary.   The music is based on Mozart, multilayered and difficult, bouncing from character to character adroitly until by the end all the threads are woven in a shimmery bittersweet whole.   The soundtrack is marvelous, but it is the sort of soundtrack that is only rewarding if you listen to the whole thing in a sitting–like a spell that takes a bit to take hold.  Subtle and refined, a meditation on how people’s hearts change in different points of their lives.

Pippin, on the other hand, is youthful and boisterous, bustling with energy.   While Night Music was based on music and singing, Pippin completely centers on dancing and performance.   The cast is eager to please.    While we don’t have complex orchestration, we’ve got extremely modern, spare arrangements, and two hits–Magic to Do and Corner of the Sky.   The dancing is by Fosse, and is (reportedly) one of his best works.

So while A Little Night Music is easy to admire, Pippin is easy to love.   A Little Night Music grows on you with repeated listens, while Pippin can be a bit repetitive.   But Pippin has great dancing!  But A Little Night Music has Mozart!  Sondheim!  Fosse!

I imagine the Tony Board getting in fisticuffs over this one, kicking each other and riots starting out.   If only every year we could have two nominees of similar quality!

Tony Awards 1972, Two Gentlemen of Verona

 

Two Gentlemen of Verona has to be one of the most obscure Tony Award winners of all time, and that’s saying a lot.   In a year that brought us Follies, Grease, and Jesus Christ Superstar we choose this as best musical?     There’s reasons for that.

Not many people know that Jesus Christ Superstar didn’t start its life as a musical at all, but as a concept album.   The original Broadway show came more than a year after the album, and neither Broadway nor Andrew Lloyd Weber liked it.    On top of that it was controversial both from Conservative Christian crowd (Judas was too relatable, and Jesus had some notable weaknesses if not flaws.)    The concept album had already done quite well (hitting number one) and something about this show seemed anticlimactic.

Follies was a good show, but so ludicrously expensive that it ended up losing money.   Also Sondheim had just won the year previous for Company.

Grease is a fine show and all, but compared to the other big shows this year, doesn’t it seem a little silly?

So we’re left with Two Gentlemen–MacDermot won because 1) The Tonys shafted him a few years before with Hair 2) Shakespeare (even hippified naughty Shakespeare) is hard to fight with as something significant without being controversial, and 3) It was a moderate hit.

The problem is that Two Gentlemen wasn’t significant.  Don’t get me wrong–MacDermot writes some good songs here, but this isn’t what he’s remembered for.  In fact, the tunes here all kind of meld together into one big mishmosh.  Also, the hippie aesthetic–so very fresh in 1967 is already seeming a bit strained in 1972.

Oh well. I’m glad he did win a Tony.  I just wish it was for the right work.

Tony Awards: 1971, Company

Company is Sondheim’s best musical.  Yes, he’s got plenty of other good, and maybe even great musicals, but none other would be so full of his strengths while avoiding all his flaws as Company.   In it we follow Bobby, a confirmed bachelor, and his relationship with his friends–all of who are coupled up.   At first he praises this arrangement, but as the show goes on we realize that his friends really are using him to a degree–he’s there to be the sounding board for all their neurotic worries, and a pressure valve for all the frustrations of being in a relationship.   Bobby in turn gets some of the benefits of relationships without having to commit to anybody.   We don’t know why he won’t commit–he has unrealistic standards, none of the relationships around him seem to be doing all that well, and people just get on each other’s nerves.

The genius that Sondheim has here is shifting the tone as the show goes on, from a comfortable arrangement, to a needy grasping relationship that easily has all the bad sides of settling down without any of the good ones.  He speaks of the singular human desire for companionship, and the idea that just having someone to share experiences with is reason enough to settle down.

One reason that Sondheim is so vaunted, despite the fact that most of his shows lose money, is because he had an answer to the rock threat that had been boondoggling Broadway since Hair.  Instead of sticking to old worn out tropes, or making bad rock musicals, you go for something more, more sophisticated than jazz, more clever than anything, something that warrants scrutiny and rewards close listening.   Company has all this.

And the songs, you’ll know most of them if you like musical theatre at all.   Being Alive was the song that is the closest to a standard, but also we’ve got Another Hundred People, Not Getting Married Today, The Ladies Who Lunch, The Little Things You Do Together, and of course the title song.  Sondheim takes his jeweler’s eye and focuses it on modern complacency, the compromises we all make, the little petty things that make up a relationship, and it’s wonderful.      Nothing else that year came close.