LET ME ENTERTAIN YOU

I have seen every Broadway production of GYPSY except for the 1959 original with Ethel Merman and Jack Klugman. I have experienced Angela Lansbury (1974), Tyne Daly (1990) and Bernadette Peters (2003) as Mama Rose. My introduction to the musical was the 1962 movie version with Rosalind Russell, Natalie Wood, and Karl Malden (I seem to recall reading that the show’s creators did not like this version – although I could not find fault). And of course there was Bette Midler’s 1993 television version, and the 1998 Paper Mill Playhouse (Millburn NJ) production with Betty Buckley (and Deborah Gibson as Louise) So it is only natural that I would see the latest incarnation with Patti LuPone – specifically this past Saturday’s matinee.

Mama Rose is perhaps the ultimate female role of the Broadway theatre – a role that is coveted by just about every actress. It has been said that the part, in musical theater terms, rivals "Hamlet." Every Mama Rose has been nominated for the Tony as Best Actress in a Musical, but only Angela Lansbury and Tyne Daly, and now Patti LuPone, have walked home with the statue. Ether Merman lost to Mary Martin in SOUND OF MUSIC and Bernadette Peters lost to Marissa Jaret Winokur in HAIRSPRAY.

The Patti LuPone production came with advanced buzz. During his annual tax season visit this past March a client told me of his housemate’s (he is in “the business”) running into Stephen Sondheim one evening at Sardi’s. SS gave the current production and its star two thumbs way up.

I did not see EVITA on Broadway. My introduction to Patti LuPone (whom I had enjoyed on the television series LIFE GOES ON) as a musical star was the London production of SUNSET BOULEVARD, which I saw while on a Theatre Guild tour in 1993.

This production of GYPSY is perhaps the best I have seen, and Patti LuPone is the best Mama Rose (with the reminder that I did not see Ethel Merman’s performance – I was considered too young at the time – although I did see “the Merm” in the 1966 Lincoln Center revival of ANNIE GET YOUR GUN). As I imagine Ethel Merman to have been, LuPone is indeed a force to be reckoned with as the ultimate stage mother. She received a rare truly spontaneous and heart-felt standing ovation during the closing Rose’s Turn” number, the audience unable to wait until the curtain call.

The supporting cast was also in top form. It seemed to me that their performances were more nuanced and intense, if that is the word, than previous productions, especially Herbie and the “elder” June and Louise. As LuPone sang in SUNSET BOULEVARD, “with one look” they expressed volumes about their intertwined relationships and feelings. Perhaps I was just seeing new things in a familiar show, or it was the talent of the individual actors, or director Arthur Laurents, also the book writer, giving new emphasis (he directed the first two of the earlier revivals and, it seems, was not a fan of the Sam Mendes-directed Bernadette Peters’ version).

Prior to the now standard announcement to turn off cell phones we were told that Patti LuPone’s feet hurt and that she would be doing the performance wearing “isotoners”. I did happen to notice that she was in flats for the entire show. It certainly did not affect her performance – it just highlighted the difference in height between her and other cast members - especially Boyd Gaines (Herbie) and Laura Benanti (Louise).

As is true more often than not, the weatherman was wrong in his prediction that midtown New York City would avoid predicted thundershowers until after dark. Sounds of thunder during the last 15 minutes or so of the show previewed the pouring rain we found ourselves faced with as we exited the St James Theatre. Luckily, due to the continuous construction on 8th Avenue, we were able to stay relatively dry under scaffolding as we hurried from 44th Street to 46th Street for an excellent dinner at the “La Rivista” (The Review”) Italian restaurant on “Restaurant Row”. It had been a long time since I had dined there. I recommend the Veal Bolognese.

The rain had stopped by the time we finished our meal. However, the very minute we “de-bused” in Jersey City it started to pour again. I was soaked almost to the bone by the time I was greeted by Nosey in my apartment a long block from the bus stop.

Seeing GYSPY, and thinking about the current revival of SOUTH PACIFIC, points up what a truly difficult, and disappearing, art it is to write a great Broadway score – a dozen or so individual and distinctive musical numbers that fit perfectly into the show to advance the action of the play, yet can each stand alone as a potential popular standard. Think Richard Rogers, Cole Porter, Frederick Lowe, Jerry Herman, Stephen Sondheim, and, in this case, Jule Styne, and their lyric-writing partners (a young Stephen Sondheim here). Is it just me, or do the individual songs of many a Broadway score today all sound pretty much the same?

TTYL