News from the Music Industry

Julie Andrews added pre-Tony Award spice by rejecting her nomination for Victor/Victoria and creating a furor over whether she’d appear in the televised ceremony (she didn’t). True, the Tony would be tonier if all these contentious factions hadn’t existed, but extensive press coverage meant a boost at the box office.

Choreographers Susan Stroman and Rob Marshall [see page 62] bring all their ingenuity to bear in their respective shows. Stroman energizes Big with whirlwind kinetics, helping what might otherwise be a rather pallied version of the movie on which it’s based. Big’s dance numbers are the glue that holds it together. Adults and children, notably the so-called Big Kids–Lori Aine Bennett, Graham Bowen, Brandon Espinoza, Samantha Robyn Lee, Spencer Liff, and Enrico Rodriguez, along with Patrick Levis and Brett Tabisel (who have leading roles as the young Josh and his friend Bill)–are tirelessly energetic in routines Stroman cleverly harnesses to their natural exuberance. It reaches a manic climax in the FAO Schwarz toy store number, where everyone cavorts on giant piano keys. For street and restaurant scenes, Stroman works in skateboarding, “signing,” hip-hop, tap, and various social dances for a very contemporary look.

Marshall’s inventive choreography for Forum, combined with director Jerry Zaks’s inspired business, makes this a musical comedy that achieves many of its funniest moments through the comic acrobatics, pratfalls, and sight gags for which both men seem to have a particular genius. They are worked particularly smoothly by the three Proteans (Brad Aspel, Cory English, and Ray Roderick). A deliriously funny song like “Everybody Ought to Have a Maid,” delivered by Nathan Lane, Mark Linn-Baker, and old-timers Ernie Sabella and Lewis J. Stadlen, are given a few high kicks to punch it up even though it’s not really a dance number. Everyone from Lane, personifying Prologus/Pseudolus, the conniving slave intent on winning his freedom, to the show’s six courtesans (Linn-Baker becomes a comic seventh), contributes to the overall merriment. Marshall establishes the courtesans’ specialties with sexy vignettes devised in show-stopping Las Vegas style for Pamela Everett, Leigh Zimmerman, Susan Misner, Lori Werner, Mary Ann Lamb, and Stephanie Pope.

Choreography is the body and soul of Bring in ‘da Noise, starring Savion Glover, who won the Tony for best choreographer (and a Dance Magazine Award this year). He choreographed the show and is its prime performer. Vincent Bingham, Dule Hill, Jimmy Tate, and Baakari Wilder are his cohorts in tap; Jared Crawford and Raymond King are street drummers who can wring a beat from a paint bucket and panhandle old saucepans into sweet percussion. Tireless Glover–sometimes wild and stomping, at other times so articulately delicate that he virtually pas de bourrees on his tap tips–displays astounding technique with unflagging energy. With sheer talent he jerks us toward the exciting future where tap is now confidently headed.

“That little kid ought to be tucked up in bed,” somebody whispered behind me as a moppet toddled onto the stage of The King and I and bowed obeisance to Lou Diamond Phillips, the King of Siam. Worry not. That little kid, like dozens of others playing the king’s progeny, is earning Broadway scale and is well looked after. Jeff G. Yalun and Jacqueline Te Lem are the youngest in this glittering, lavishly produced revival. Costar Donna Murphy, a splendid Anna, won the Tony for best actress in a musical. Not the least of her accomplishments is dancing a spirited polka while expertly manipulating a crinoline big enough to cover the chandelier in Phantom of the Opera. Lar Lubovitch supervised Jerome Robbins’s original dances in just the right spirit; his own additional numbers enhance this opulent production, directed by Christopher Renshaw.

Rent, the Tony-winning best musical, based on Puccini’s La Boheme, has neither a big dance number nor, in fact, conventional dancers (though the talented cast moves well). Marlies Yearby’s choreography is basically confined to setting movement, except for a turn, put over by Idina Menzel, intended as a performance-art spoof. Menzel performs with verve, but choreographically the piece falls flat.