Neutered "Baby"

I really wanted to like Cry-Baby. It’s not that I disliked it; worse, I was indifferent to a lot of it. For a musical, it had the most forgettable score I’ve heard in a long time. It wasn’t even bad enough to be good. It was just plain mediocre and at times even boring. I was actually frustrated because this could have been a great subversive, camp musical in the vein of Rocky Horror. Instead, it was a beautiful-looking, neutered version of the original.

First, though, the good stuff. Costumes were quirky and fun. Choreography was athletic, creative, character specific and non-stop. The three featured male dancers (as well as the rest of the cast) are working their asses off. The musical staging was genuinely original and clever - namely the shadow work in “Infected by Your Love,” the gas mask ballroom scene and the dream groom/bride number. Set was appropriate and fun, especially the tilting false prosceniums, a great detail that helped establish the idea that what we were witnessing wouldn’t be your “typical” musical. It set many scenes appropriately off-kilter literally as well as metaphorically. Unfortunately, this feeling wasn’t carried through the entire production, mainly in score and casting.

I had some major issues with James Snyder's Cry-Baby. Not that he was bad, he was just fine. But fine doesn’t cut it for the title role in a Broadway show. He’s obviously talented and attractive, but lacked charisma. Also, nothing about him reads edgy or dangerous except his hair. Liz Stanley (who I met while working at Seaside Music Theater) could be Sherie Renee Scott’s twin both vocally and physically. For this role, the goofy ingénue thing worked in her favor. But her songs didn’t fully show-off her tremendous belt or her legit soprano. It annoyed me that someone unfamiliar with her work would probably think her singing was just “OK” due to the ho-hum score. Chris Hanke was adorable and fun as the “good boy,” but due to general lackluster audience response, seemed to be pushing the humor somewhat. The stand-out, other than Harriet Harris, was Alli Mauzey as the schizo stalker Lenora. She turned a mediocre song about obsession into a comic monologue that actual milked laughs from a verse about self-mutilation. That’s talent. But it's definitely Harriet Harris' show. She heroically manages to turn an otherwise mediocre 11 o’clock number into a near show-stopper through sheer force of talent.

Overall, the show is just plain frustrating. Witnessing the talent on stage, the creative and artistic merit of the physical production, direction and choreography and the often clever lyrics, one wonders what could have been. There’s no real plot climax and I kept thinking the closing scene would have been better served with a dramatic “disclosure” song for Harris (not written by this composer, of course). The final song was hideous and almost embarrassingly sophomoric in its attempt to be “catchy” and fun. The show’s still in previews but the only thing that could really save it would be replacing all the songs, which ain’t gonna’ happen. I also think the writers wrongly tried to "Disney-fy" the show and thus left it "generically anti-establishment" without the yummy filth or true shock factor one expects and wants from a John Waters' project. I think the couple sitting in front of me summed it up when the husband commented to his companion, “It’s OK for $54 but not $120.”

Photo courtesy of eonline.com