Thoroughly Modern Anything Goes

Anything Goes
Stephen Sondheim Theatre
August 17, 8pm performance

Is Sutton Foster miscast as Reno Sweeney?  Well, yes and no.  She isn't exactly in the Merman-LuPone mold, that's for sure.  Shrugging off the gee-whiz, apple pie wholesomeness we've grown to expect, Foster's Reno is a sexy, character/ingenue hybrid - Millie's hardened, sluttier metropolitan raised-cousin, if you will.  Then again, my other Anything Goes experience was at the Papermill in 2000 with a 67-year-old Chita Rivera, a seemingly perfect Reno - had the production happened 30 years earlier.  She was still amazing, by the way.  Talk about your sexy cougars.

Foster's Reno could use a harder edge, but what she lacks in grit she makes up for in leg.  Her slit-up-to-the-neck skirts show off her gams to perfection.  And she's well matched by the dreamy Colin Donnell as Billy (though he can't touch Howard McGillan's luscious baritone in the LuPone revival).

The physical production is sleek and polished if not predictable.  Though granted, there aren't that many ways to present a cruise ship on stage.

The score, of course, is filled with Porter standards.  His lyrical wit only underscores the vastly inferior lyrics we've grown accustomed to in recent commercial Broadway offerings.  God forbid someone attempt to compose clever and funny lyrics that actually might require the audience to listen - but that's a rant for another day.

Most reviews praised the choreography, but I wasn't impressed.  The steps were there, but much of it was visually stagnant - the feet were moving, but not much else (was Stroman or Randy Skinner not available?  Or was this a Kathleen Marshall vanity project?).  In one non-sensical dance number, Billy and Hope share a romantic moment and are randomly joined by several other couples, on different decks, running in and joining for no apparent reason and then just as mysteriously disappearing offstage.  If you're not going to give us character driven movement, you at least need to give us some "wow" factor.

The book, which has undergone countless revisions since the show's premier, is just a zany excuse to string together these hit Porter tunes.  But really, who cares?  It's all about the songs and performances. 

It was nice to see Joel Grey perform in person, but his schtick seemed a bit old-fashioned.  Seemed like a missed opportunity to showcase this one-of-a-kind talent.  Perhaps Marshall didn't want to assert her directorial fist upon a Broadway legend? 

If anything, this production needed a stronger director and concept to keep all these enormously talented individuals (and no doubt, egos) on the same page, stylistically and conceptually.