...Night Music or What is Michael Douglas hiding in his pants?

Okay. Finally, here are my thoughts on the new Broadway revival of A Little Night Music. Yes, I realize I had mentioned seeing this show about 2 months ago, but I’ve been busy dreaming up sexually suggestive choreography for The Wedding Singer that will surely offend more than a few blue hairs at those Sunday matinees. I will not consider myself successful until I have amassed at least half a dozen complaints. I’ll keep you posted.

As far as ...Night Music goes (I'm forcing myself to use the 2 word abbreviation rather than conceding to the current teen texting trend of single letters - ALNM? - NFW), it’s witty, melodic, intelligent, subtle and (GASP! - as in "a sharp intake of breath", not an acronym for anything) non-self-referential - basically the complete opposite of anything playing on Broadway at the moment. Well, accept maybe the revival of West Side Story that coincidentally also bears Sondheim’s name. Having never seen a staged production before, the sparse (according to the old school chatters at ATC) production values really didn’t bother me. Though a fuller orchestra might have helped give the impression of lush-ness many seemed to miss.

Thank God we finally have a singers’ show back on the boards. Can I get an “Amen,” people?! I’m sick of pseudo-pop/rock screeching, unhealthy belting (read: screaming) and itsy-bitsy voices cranked up to max levels. Granted, Zeta-Jones might not be considered a “singer,” but she doesn’t suffer from any of the above vocal sins currently well on display on various midtown stages. She also happens to have some great acting moments and is stunningly gorgeous on stage. Grandpa Douglas must have a huge penis. I’m just saying. CZJ’s “Send in the Clowns” alone is worth the price of admission. And of course, any chance to see Angela Lansbury is greatly welcomed. Though someone needs to tell the grand dame to tone down the dark eye shadow and eye liner, she looked positively corpse-like from our sixth row orchestra seats.

The real star of the show is Stephen Sondheim. He’s at his best here, delivering clever, character and situation specific lyrics to memorable, and for lack of a better word, beautiful melodies. You can call me a snob, but most scores landing on Broadway stages in recent years have been crap, lyrically.

Of course, this particular production of ...Night Music isn’t perfect. The Leibesleider Singers look ridiculous singing “Remember” considering they all appear to be in their 20s and 30s. And I miss the full orchestra and cut verse of “A Weekend in the Country.” But I’ll take a solid production of ...Night Music over recent mega-produced spectacles of mediocre material. You know who you are.