Back
Goodman presents a soothing balm for tough 'Century'
THEATER REVIEW | Musical has the appeal of a Fred and Ginger Depression-era spectacle
Taken from the September 30, 2008 issue of the Chicago Sun-Times
By Hedy Weiss
Take a peek at "Turn of the Century," the new musical with a snow-globe beauty that opened Monday at the Goodman Theatre, and then think about the sort of movies that thrived during the Great Depression of the 1930s -- from classic Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers musicals, to Shirley Temple sagas, to such lavish, Follies-like Busby Berkeley spectacles as "42nd Street" and "The Gold Diggers of 1933" -- that made the fantasy of wealth a pleasant dream.
This same sort of pure, unadulterated escapist entertainment might be just what the doctor ordered for the "Great Recession of 2008." And that could make "Turn of the Century" -- a show spun from pure fluff and whipped into peaks by the most sophisticated form of old-fashioned stagecraft and bits of songs that have long since become part of our DNA -- a shoo-in for this season's Broadway sweepstakes.
Of course new musicals take several years to develop, so it would be stretching things too far to attribute such powers of prognostication about the zeitgeist to the show's creators who include writers Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice of "Jersey Boys" fame; director Tommy Tune (veteran Broadway star, and a master magician when it comes to transforming vintage into contemporary); choreographer Noah Racey (a relative newcomer to the game); those fleet music men Michael Biagi and Daryl Waters (music director and arrangers), and a team of designers truly masterful in the art of extravagant minimalism. But as little Irving Berlin's dad reminds him in this show, "Artists are sensitive," and sometimes they also just get lucky with their timing.
Time, it should be noted, is the "tick" that makes this show "tock," with zany musical anachronisms a big part of the fun. Brickman and Elice have devised the slenderest of narrative threads in the form of a time-travel conceit, and anchored it with a made-for-each-other screwball romance involving Billy Clark (Jeff Daniels), a still sexy, middle-aged, piano-playing Romeo of the New York cabaret world, and Dixie Carter (Rachel York), a gorgeous, gifted, slightly eccentric and still-struggling singer. And when, on the brink of the Millennium, they are catapulted back in time to the start of the 20th century, they discover that they can -- with some help from a budding genius in knee pants soon to be known as Irving Berlin -- take credit for most of the great American songs yet to be composed. If there is a subtext here it is the way the cut-throat music business has changed (only slightly) from sheet music days to now.
While the Brickman-Elice book is more 1970s-style Neil Simon in its Noo Yawk one-liners and feminist era tensions than a "bridge-to-the-21st century" (the opening New Year's eve 1999 party scene seems stuck in a Fosse-like "Rich Man's Frug" mode), Tune's altogether magical staging -- enhanced by Walt Spangler's infinity-looped set, Natasha Katz's incandescent lighting and, above all, Dona Granata's fabulously luxe period costumes -- possesses a touch of the eternal. And there is a hypnotic sense that the whole show is revolving in some time-space continuum even though the stage has no turntable.
As for the music, well, you can hardly go wrong with Irving Berlin (whether it's "Alexander's Ragtime Band," "Steppin' Out with My Baby" or a congressman-free "God Bless America"). And it's a hoot to hear Evelyn Nesbit, the scandal-ridden Gibson Girl girl on a swing (you might remember her from "Ragtime") as she bursts into a very funny rendition of "Moon River." Such fleeting musical anachronisms are plentiful here, sometimes leaving you hungry for a complete song.
Daniels is all confident charm and "been there-done that" allure. But the show belongs to York -- a great beauty with a terrific vocal range who sails through everything from Ann Ronell's jazzily mournful "Willow Weep for Me" to the hip, syncopated Lambert-Hendricks-Ross gem, "My Analyst Told Me." It's a star vehicle and York is starry.
Coming close to stealing the show is Jonah Rawitz (recently seen in Marriott Theatre's "Les Mis"), who plays the baby Berlin with a days-gone-by sort of sparkle, polish and pizzazz. This kid (who will alternate with Matthew Gold) has magic, pure and simple.
The supremely elegant, witty, X-ray-thin Rachel De Benedet is an ideal Manhattan socialite for all times. And it is especially nice to see some immensely gifted Chicago actors getting a chance at Broadway, including Kevin Gudahl (in a knockout number as a threatened music man), Rebecca Finnegan, McKinley Carter, Tommy Rapley and James Rank.
All in all, a welcome Valentine for a time of broken piggy banks.
Back