On A Clear Day...

On A Clear Day You Can See Forever

January 13, 2012  8:00pm performance

St. James Theatre

It’s been weeks since Trish and I checked out Harry Connick in the (now closed) homoerotically-tinged re-write of a flawed musical classic.  And still, the thing I remember most about the production is the hideous set design.  Sad, huh?

It’s a bummer this gorgeous score is attached to such a problematic book. The original story is about Daisy, a young woman with telepathic powers who, under hypnosis, reveals several hidden past lives.  Through the course of the evening, the psychiatrist, played by Connick, falls in love with one of these past reincarnations.  

The current revisal tries to give the story a modern day sensibility by pulling a Chaz Bono on the lead character.  Daisy is now a flouncing gay florist named David.  As in the original, Connick’s character still falls in love with one of David’s past reincarnations, a 1940s jazz singer, Melinda (in the original, she’s an 18^th Century lady).

What does this little bit of gender bending do to improve the story?  Absolutely nothing - well, except give the director an opportunity to make Harry Connick look super uncomfortable and to tease us with (almost) a gay kiss between Connick and David.

Don’t worry you red-staters, there is a convenient black-out just before their lips lock.  Although they do get close enough to elicit a rather audible communal gasp from the audience - just in time for intermission!

There are some other added pointless subplots, mildly successful interpolations of other Loesser songs, some nice choreography and some really ugly costumes to go with the set.  The performances are all adequate with Jessie Mueller’s Melinda the standout.  David Turner does his best with the material he’s given.  Sarah Stiles, channeling a young Kristin Chenoweth (in a good way), is cute and charming.  Connick is bland, but sounds great. 

The orchestral arrangements have been changed to fit Connick’s rat-pack style crooning.  For a recording, they’d be beautiful, but for the stage, these arrangements drain the score of any dramatic heft or forward momentum. 

This current incarnation would have a have made a great concert, but as theatre it’s at best a mildly interesting riff on 70s-era gender politics, at worst, it’s a boring night at the theatre.

Danced in my scanties / Three bucks a night was the pay / But I'm here...

If you don't know that quote, your rainbow membership is hereby revoked by order of The Friends of Dorothy.

But yes, I'm still here but extremely busy, so I haven't been quite as prolific with posting recently.  So much has happened since the ball dropped on 2012 that I don't even know how to start filling you in on my latest adventures.  I guess I'll just start typing and hope to finish before I need some lunch or before some selfish banker type interrupts my "me" time with a trivial request to book travel for some multi-billion dollar IPO.  Anyhoo...

Juan, Val and I spent several agonizing days in January locked in the mold-friendly walls of the CDC theatre auditioning folks who apparently cannot count to 16 (all you non-theatre folks, don't worry, you're not meant to get that reference).  The question weighing most heavily in people's minds was why we bothered to audition our sister, Trish, instead of just handing her the role of Carrie.  Well, because unlike most community theatre in New Jersey - and probably the nation at large - we actually don't pre-cast our shows.  I know, a bold and original concept, but we're crazy that way.

Sis was wonderful, of course.  But as they say in the casting biz, there was someone else who auditioned that turned out to be a better fit.  And yes, she still talks to us.

Our biggest surprise was the pathetic turn out for the auditions.  Is there seriously a baritone alive who would not sell his soul to play Billy Bigelow?  This, my friends, is the community-theatre-versus-professional-theatre conundrum.  An audition for Carousel in NYC would cause a stampede of "Julie"s and "Billy"s to storm the AEA audition center.  In Cranford, NJ, not so much.  It seems musical theatre's legacy is in the hands of performers who don't wish to appear in a show written before 1990 or that has the adjective "legit" in any way, shape or form associated with it.  Are we destined for a future filled with musicals based on mediocre films?  Dear God, what's next, Ghost the Musical?  Oh, wait...

We're now three weeks into rehearsals and though most of the first act is blocked, we still don't have a full cast.  Yup, we like to play on the edge.  We're kooky like that.  Fingers crossed that our potential new Jigger works out.  Otherwise, we're sort of fucked. 

In other news, the audition requests for our summer high school production of Legally Blonde are pouring in.  I can't wait to watch fourteen and fifteen-year-old girls try to act like sexy sorority co-eds!  I smell a law suit.

Believe it or not, I have yet to watch an episode of "Smash".  I'm all for promoting musical theatre on national TV, but the idea that Katharine McPhee would wow any panel of jaded Broadway professionals (singing Christina Aguilera, natch) is dubious, to say the least.  Instead, I choose to waste the precious few moments of my free time in the ultra realistic milieu of a post-apocalyptic world filled with "The Walking Dead."  Yes, I'll choose a real zombie over Katharine McPhee anyday.

Stay tuned for reviews of How to Succeed (viewing #2 with Nick Jonas), Merrily We Roll Along at Encores! and On a Clear Day You Can See Forever.

I'm going to be in a writing frenzy over the next few days, so you'll have plenty of bed time reading material coming your way shortly.