“Carousel” opened April 12 at the Imperial Theatre, 249 West 45th Street

Jesse Mueller and Joshua Henry
Photo credit: Julieta Cervantes
 

Nothing is going to change the fact that Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II’s “Carousel” is unrelentingly sentimental, occasionally maudlin and even at times corny. But when you futz around too much with this gloriously melodic 73 year-old musical drama you are asking for trouble. In what turns out to be a misbegotten re-envisioning of it directed by Jack O’Brien and choreographed by Justin Peck, the classic musical fails almost irretrievably in its effort to be either an uplifting or wonderfully romantic experience.

As originally adapted from Molnar’s tragically themed “Liliom,” “Carousel” may still be an old fashioned tearjerker. But, it is forever exalted by some of the most gorgeous melodies ever composed for the American musical theater. The disappointments begin early with the show beginning in a starry galaxy far away.....actually a back door to heaven where a platoon of gate-keepers in grey work-outfits hold sway and swing under the supervision of their head honcho/Starkeeper (John Douglas Thompson.)  The Starkeeper appears periodically during the show to shadow the restless carnival barker Billy Bigelow (Joshua Henry) as he goes about his belligerently motivated, ill-fated earthly capers.

Henry, who won Tony nominations for his performances in “Violet” and “The Scottsboro Boys,” is a fine African-American actor with a splendid voice but don’t expect to see more than a perpetually steely meanness expressed or exposed in his portrayal. What disappointed me most about seeing his Billy Bigelow is that he remains characterized without a single visible redeeming trait. I have seen aspects of Billy’s seriously flawed character given more dimension in countless other productions. Most regrettably, I don’t think I’ve ever heard the famous “Soliloquy” reduced to only one emotional level.

Even more seriously remiss from this production is the expected physical chemistry that draws Julie (Jessie Mueller) to him and him to her. Mueller, who won awards and accolades for her performances in “Waitress” and “Beautiful” seems stymied by a role that simply asks her to fall in love for no discernible reason. It can be done.

Then we have to consider the consequences of a stultifying romance in which the recklessly-in-love Julie becomes more than a wimp and a physically abused wife without a spine. Sorely missed is seeing Julie grow from an innocent, infatuated young girl into a woman strengthened but never hardened by tragedy. If the show’s constantly reiterated theme - you always hurt the one you love - is ever present, be assured there is no expectation of anything beyond that even in the well-sung duet “If I Loved You.”

And don’t expect to see that  famed carousel appear, although an approximation in part is created by set designer Santo Loquasto. Loquasto did create ample approximations of the show’s New England seaside setting as did costume designer Ann Roth with her period fashions. Director Jack O’Brien pushes to infuse the musical with moments of joy but they seem like artificial implants. This is a story that should make us smile through our tears, not grit our teeth. Unlike other revivals, a feeling of perfunctory theatrics overshadow what is essentially a delicate fantasy.

In contrast, a-belting-we-will-go Lindsay Mendez is an over-the-top New England catch as Julie’s friend Carrie, One could almost believe that “fish is my favorite perfume” when she sings about her intended “Mr. Snow.” The resounding voice of Alexander Gemignani as the stuffy Enoch Snow helps us remember what a charming if understandably neglected tune is “When the Children Are Asleep.” Opera diva Renee Fleming puts her wind in the sails for “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” The best characterization comes from Margaret Colin as the lusty carnival owner Mrs. Mullin.  

An abundance of robust dancing, as choreographed by Justin Peck, filled overly-extended ballet sequences most of which appeared more as self-serving showcases rather than rising organically out of the story. . . as had been originally conceived by the great Agnes DeMille. Where is “Carousel” without interpretive integrity or emotional honesty? But like the song says, “What’s the Use of Wond’rin?

“Three Tall Women” at the Golden Theatre 252 West 45th Street

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Alison Pill, Glenda Jackson and Laurie Metcalf (Photo: Brigitte Lacombe)

None of the disaffection for  a series of Edward Albee’s plays that followed years of success and great acclaim was deemed relevant when “Three Tall Women” (premiered in Vienna in 1991) eventually opened in the U.S. at the Vineyard Theater in 1994 featuring memorable performances by Myra Carter and Marian Seldes. It re-awakened in us what we already knew: Albee is once again to be acknowledged as one of the best American playwrights of the 20th century with this play winning for him his second Pulitzer Prize.  A terrific Broadway revival, under the direction of Joe Mantello and starring Glenda Jackson, Laurie Metcalf and Alison Pill has opened at the Golden Theatre. It is pure gold and will be a treat for Albee fans and for lovers of great acting.

While there was no denying in 1994 that Albee had grown more alienated and dramatically elusive, notably after writing such celebrated plays as “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe,” “A Delicate Balance,” and “Seascape.” His return to a more easily accessed dramatic form made “Three Tall Women” all the more appreciated. It is commendable for not only being a moving and often humorous re-examination of a very wealthy 92 year-old woman’s life, but for once again having at its core an actress who is in dazzling command of this fascinating and exasperating woman’s fluctuations of moods. The actress is Glenda Jackson who is returning to the New York stage after an absence of 33 years, a stint in the British Parliament, and a return to the London stage in 2016 as King Lear for the Old Vic. Is there any doubt that she is wonderful at making petulance both heart-breaking and funny.

On the verge of death, and distrustful of everyone around her, the woman, identified only as A flexes her memory. Although it is clouded by senility (“I can’t remember what I know”), she ultimately does reflect on her lifetime. Just as her past is filled as much with commonplace and trivial pursuits, it has been punctuated by delightfully risqué adventures. And its fragmented truths are cradled within a resolute honesty. But this production is no monologue.

It also has the support of the also terrific Laurie Metcalf who plays B, A’s 52 year-old home companion and caregiver. Adding the play’s newly burnished luster is the excellent Alison Pill who plays C, a 26 year-old woman from the family-retained law firm who has come to question A about her neglected finances. The wry and compassionate edge that marks Metcalf’s bravura performance is contrasted by the insensitivity demonstrated by Pill as the impatient C.

While the three actresses have distinct roles in Act I, in Act II they each appear as different stages in the life of the same woman who is now deceased and with an estranged son who appears only to stand silently at her bedside. A continues to chronicle moments from her impetuous childhood, her marriage and her later years. As she mentally travels through numerous peccadilloes, she also attempts with candidly expressed sentiments, to exorcise the pain and anger she has harbored in regard to her son. These are assumed to have autobiographical ties to the author. Mantello’s direction appears to measure the play’s haunting nature with a playfulness that never ceases to amaze. Miriam Buether’s set design affixes appropriate affluence, as do Ann Roth’s ultra stylish apparel to a play notably rich with the words and the wonder of the playwright who was just getting his second  wind.   

None of the disaffection for  a series of Edward Albee’s plays that followed years of success and great acclaim was deemed relevant when “Three Tall Women” (premiered in Vienna in 1991) eventually opened in the U.S. at the Vineyard Theater in 1994 featuring memorable performances by Myra Carter and Marian Seldes. It re-awakened in us what we already knew: Albee is once again to be acknowledged as one of the best American playwrights of the 20th century with this play winning for him his second Pulitzer Prize.  A terrific Broadway revival, under the direction of Joe Mantello and starring Glenda Jackson, Laurie Metcalf and Alison Pill has opened at the Golden Theatre. It is pure gold and will be a treat for Albee fans and for lovers of great acting.

While there was no denying in 1994 that Albee had grown more alienated and dramatically elusive, notably after writing such celebrated plays as “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe,” “A Delicate Balance,” and “Seascape.” His return to a more easily accessed dramatic form made “Three Tall Women” all the more appreciated. It is commendable for not only being a moving and often humorous re-examination of a very wealthy 92 year-old woman’s life, but for once again having at its core an actress who is in dazzling command of this fascinating and exasperating woman’s fluctuations of moods. The actress is Glenda Jackson who is returning to the New York stage after an absence of 33 years, a stint in the British Parliament, and a return to the London stage in 2016 as King Lear for the Old Vic. Is there any doubt that she is wonderful at making petulance both heart-breaking and funny.

On the verge of death, and distrustful of everyone around her, the woman, identified only as A flexes her memory. Although it is clouded by senility (“I can’t remember what I know”), she ultimately does reflect on her lifetime. Just as her past is filled as much with commonplace and trivial pursuits, it has been punctuated by delightfully risqué adventures. And its fragmented truths are cradled within a resolute honesty. But this production is no monologue.

It also has the support of the also terrific Laurie Metcalf who plays B, A’s 52 year-old home companion and caregiver. Adding the play’s newly burnished luster is the excellent Alison Pill who plays C, a 26 year-old woman from the family-retained law firm who has come to question A about her neglected finances. The wry and compassionate edge that marks Metcalf’s bravura performance is contrasted by the insensitivity demonstrated by Pill as the impatient C.

While the three actresses have distinct roles in Act I, in Act II they each appear as different stages in the life of the same woman who is now deceased and with an estranged son who appears only to stand silently at her bedside. A continues to chronicle moments from her impetuous childhood, her marriage and her later years. As she mentally travels through numerous peccadilloes, she also attempts with candidly expressed sentiments, to exorcise the pain and anger she has harbored in regard to her son. 

These are assumed to have autobiographical ties to the author. Mantello’s direction appears to measure the play’s haunting nature with a playfulness that never ceases to amaze. Miriam Buether’s set design affixes appropriate affluence, as do Ann Roth’s ultra stylish apparel to a play notably rich with the words and the wonder of the playwright who was just getting his second  wind.