It’s been a long, but very rewarding process, putting together this show. We know we made y’all wait a long time for this to premiere in Vancouver, but we’re really happy with what we have and we’re ready to put it out there.
Don’t forget, today’s the last chance to buy tickets before our contest closes tonight!
BUY YOUR TICKETS BEFORE FEBRUARY 15th for any performance of [title of show], and be entered into a draw for TWO super-duper theatre packages!!
One winner will receive:
2 tickets to Hairspray
2 tickets to The Graduate
One winner will receive:
2 tickets to The Philanderer
2 tickets to A Closer Walk with Patsy Cline
AND a signed poster from [title of show] for each winner!
(Value: $250 each)
*If you’ve already booked – don’t worry – you’ve already been entered!
ONLINE: Vancouvertix.com
PHONE: 604.629.8849
[title of show] debuts in Vancouver in just over a week! Do you have your tickets yet?
WE HAVE A WINNER! Good work Steve, it was indeed Yul Brynner.
Ten years before winning a Tony for his portrayal of the King of Siam, Brynner was an aspiring actor in NYC, earning his living playing guitar and singing at parties on the Upper East Side. It might’ve been at one of these parties that he caught the attention of photographer George Platt Lynes. Brynner posed for him in 1942. Fire up the Google Machines!
Answer this question: “If your life was a musical, what would the [title of show] be?”
1. Post your answer as a VIDEO on our Facebook page. (Be creative! Give us the title, maybe a cast breakdown or even a song from the show!)
2. Get your friends to click ‘Like’!
3. The video with the most ‘likes’ by Mon. Feb. 7 at 5pm will win a pair of tickets to opening night!
Don’t do them.
At best, it looks like you’re taking the easy way out. At worst, it looks desparate. Unless you’re Chita Rivera, as we will see.
When the final curtain dropped on the original production of Bye Bye Birdie in October 1961, it had run 607 performances, and had been acclaimed by audiences and critics alike. It was nominated for 7 Tony Awards and won 4 — Best Musical, Best Featured Actor (Dick Van Dyke), Best Choreography and Best Director (both, Gower Champion).
[And can I just say, I think 'Gower Champion' is one of the best names ever. How could you not go on to win awards with a name like 'Gower Champion'?]
The critics were especially surprised because the production team (producer Edward Padula and writers Charles Strouse and Lee Adams) was virtually unkown at the time. NY Daily News critic John Champman thought the show was “the funniest, most captivating, and most expert musical comedy one could hope to see …”. And then marveled that “one of the best things about it is that practically nobody is connected to it. Whoever heard of Edward Padula … Charles Strouse and Lee Adams … Gower Champion?”
[Although I find it odd that John Champman had never heard of Gower Champion. In the decade prior to Birdie, Gower and his wife Marge were responsible for five MGM musicals including Showboat with Howard Keel and Kathryn Grayson, and Three for the Show with Betty Grable and Jack Lemmon. Not to mention there was only a difference of 2 letters in their surnames.]
Where was I? Right — sequels.
Twenty years after Bye Bye Birdie, in March 1981, the ill-advised and ill-conceived Bring Back Birdie closed after only 4 performances.
The sequel brought back original writers Strouse and Adams, and starred Donald O’Connor (replacing Dick Van Dyke) as Albert and Chita Rivera, returning to play Rosie. But even a stacked deck couldn’t keep it from folding.
Donald O’Connor – who I always think of as the clever and cheerful Cosmo from Singin’ in the Rain — apparently forgot the words to his song “Middle Aged Blues” during one of the 4 performances. He turned to the orchestra and yelled, “You sing it! I hated this song anyway!” What happened to “Make ‘em Laugh”?
Chita Rivera faired better. After just 4 shows, her performance was awarded the Drama Desk Award for Best Featured Actress in a Musical and was nominated for the Tony in the same category, giving her the record for the Shortest-Lived Tony Nominated Performance in History. (With just 6 performances, Delores Gray holds the record for the Shortest-Lived Tony Awarded Performance in History for 1953’s Carnival in Flanders.)
And while their first foray into Broadway musicals brought the inexperienced writing team of Strouse and Admas kudos for their efforts, they were now experienced and successful professionals. Among other things, they had won a second Tony for Applause (the the 1970 musical adaptation of All About Eve starring Lauren Bacall) and had co-authored one of TV’s most singable sitcom themes, “Those Were the Days” for All in the Family. They had raised their own bar, and Bring Back Birdie was assailed as One of the Worst Musicals Ever Created by People Who Should’ve Known Better.
Where others may have learned a valuable lesson in this, Charles Stouse was pure Teflon. After the 1977 hit Annie won him his 3rd Tony (and made over $20 million during its 6-year run), he gleefully hopped on board for another attempt at a sequel — Annie 2: Miss Hannigan’s Revenge. Why would anyone thing that was going to be a good idea? Apart from the $20 million?
PS:
We’re still looking for a correct answer to the last trivia question: Before becoming a household name, what film and theatre star posed nude for one of America’s most famous photographers? We’ve had some interesting guesses: Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, Vanessa Williams. And my personal favourite guess: Karen Ziemba. That’s my favourite guess because I too would like to live a world where Karen Ziemba is a household name.
So here’s a little hint: y’all gotta start thinking outside the box. Good luck.
The Golden Apple was inspired by Homer’s “Illiad” & “The Odyssey”. And my new hero, Ken Mendelbaum (author of Not Since Carrie, 40 Years of Broadway Flops) asserts that it may have been the best show to ever fail on Broadway.
The critics thrilled to the off-Broadway production at the Phoenix Theatre when it opened in March 1954:
“…some sort of milestone in the American musical theatre” (the Journal-American)
“…the best thing that has happened in and to the theatre in a very long time” (the News)
“…the most important musical since Oklahoma!” (the Mirror)
High praise. Unless you hate Oklahoma. And if you hate Oklahoma, I’m afraid I may never speak to you again.
The creators (composer Jerome Moross and lyricist John Treville Latouche) brought Homer’s epic a little closer to home by setting it in Angel’s Roost, Washington, during the first decade of the 20th century. When asked why they set it so close to Mount Olympus, they replied in unison, “Because it’s there.” Okay, I’m making that up. But Mount Olympus was their reason for choosing Washington State.
Now, I’d like to take this opportunity to say that one of the many great things about doing this sort of research (as opposed to learning my lines …) is discovering that a song I love is actually from a show I’ve never heard of. In this case, the song is ‘Lazy Afternoon’, sung by a very bored Helen of Angel’s Roost (as opposed to a very bored Helen of Troy) at the top of the show.
I know the song thanks entirely to Holly Cole who recorded it for her 2003 CD Shade. In the original production, Helen was played by Kaye Ballard. I’d give one of my more vital organs (or perhaps my original soundtrack of Fame on vinyl) to have a recording of that. And if you don’t like Kaye Ballard, I am definitely never speaking to you again.
Unfortunately, even Kaye Ballard couldn’t save The Golden Apple. When the producers moved it uptown to the Phoenix Theatre in April 1954, its sung-through script proved too cerebral for the average theatre go-er. The audience did not take to the show the way the critics had and it closed after 125 performances.
While most Broadway flops fail their audience, Mendelbaum believes that in this case it was the audience that failed The Golden Apple; “perhaps the most neglected masterwork of the American musical theatre.”
(And as a colourful side-bar, this was not to be the last time Homeric legend would serve as inspiration for a musical. In December 1974, Odyssey, starring Yul Brynner as Odysseus and Joan Diener as Penelope, began its own mythic, year-long journey of out-of-town try-outs. Albert Marre (Diener’s husband) directed and Erich Segal (the author of Love Story) supplied the book and lyrics.
Ken Mendelbaum described it simply as “one of the dumbest musicals in Broadway history.”
By the time it reached New York in January 1976, the title had been changed to Home Sweet Homer (which leads me to believe Mendelbaum must’ve been right) and its difficulties were becoming legends of their own.
Brynner insisted that all his dressing rooms be painted a certain shade of brown, and that each hotel-suite kitchen be stocked with 1 dozen brown eggs. Not white. Under any circumstances.
When Diener’s name was accidentally left off the front of the Colonial Theatre in Boston, she insisted the marquee be shrouded in black, leading many potential patrons to assume the show had been cancelled.
And in April 1975, Marre, Diener, Brynner, and his wife Jacqueline, filed a $7.5 million lawsuit against Trader Vic’s in New York, claiming their spareribs had been poisonous. Their subsequent illness caused Diener and Brynner to miss shows, and prevented Marre from doing his job “with his accustomed energy and vigor.” And Jacqueline complained that she suffered “impaired and depreciated” conjugal association with her husband. I’m surprised Yul let that get out.
Brynner tried to end his contract early and was threatened with a $1 million damage claim from the producer. But when the producer tried to close tour early while they were still in California, Brynner threatened legal action if the show was not brought to New York.
Segal had his name removed from the credits.
Home Sweet Homer opened and closed on January 4th, 1976 — a single Sunday matinee.
Okay, so that was a long side-bar.)
And now, for today’s skill testing question: Before becoming a household name, what film and theatre star posed nude for one of America’s most famous photographers?
Be the first to post a correct answer in the comments and win 2 tix to our February 15th preview.
Congratulations to Alison Latimer for winning one night’s stay at the Rosedale on Robson and a $100 gift card to Player’s Chophouse! Alison, we will be getting in touch with you shortly so you can claim your prize. Thanks everyone who entered and see you at the show!
Good work Camilla Tibbs! The answer is indeed Carrie, the musical.
I’m starting with Carrie as a salut to Ken Mendelbaum, author of “Not Since Carrie, 40 Years of Broadway Musical Flops”, a giddily invaluable resource. At least for me.
Carrie began her short life in Stratford-upon-Avon, under the auspices of the Royal Shakespeare Company, and director Terry Hands. The press releases would eventually boast “There’s Never Been a Musical Like Her.” Truer words were never spoken.
The music and lyrics were by Michael Gore and Dean Pitchford, the creative team behind Fame, the life changing (at least for me) 1980 feature film. The original one. The good one.
And there’s more Fame cross-over. Choreography was Debbie Allen. And she brought along one of her favourites, Gene Anthony Ray to play Billy, the supplier of the iconic pigs’ blood. Some of the gayer g’nerds out there may remember him as Fame’s book-challenged, library-attacking, and unbearably sexy (at least for me) Leroy.
The cast also included a relative unknown, with the spookily appropriate name of Linzi Hateley, in her stage debut as the telekinetic Carrie White, and the legendary Barbara Cook as Carrie’s fanatical mother, Margaret.
The production was plagued with technical problems from the beginning. At the play’s climax, they were unable to douse Hateley with the fake blood from a bucket suspended from the gymnasium ceiling without shorting out her mic. Instead, Carrie became the victim of a run-by blooding as another cast member anti-climactically and unceremoniously emptied a bucket on her as he ran across the stage. And Cook gave her notice after being nearly decapitated by an elaborate set piece on opening night.
The show’s design also came under attack. But I think we should cut them some slack here. It was, afterall, the mid-to-late 80s.
So they can’t really be held entirely accountable if the girl’s gym class looked like out-takes from the Jane Fonda Workout. Nor should they be blamed if the costumes made the middle-American teenage boys of the chorus look like they had emerged from the skanky back room of a leather bar and strutted straight (sic) into algebra class.
The show cost $8 million to transfer to Broadway. While we are now accustomed to ridiculous budgets (The Lord of the Rings at the lordly sum of $30 million, and Spiderman still hemorrhaging at an estimated $62 million), this was unprecedented at the time. And it was transferring with almost no pre-sales, relying entirely on the critics to bring in the audience. And after the tryouts in Stratford, they had no reason to be too optimistic about that.
Most of the UK cast remained with the show — there must be a theatrical equivalent to the Stockholm Syndrome — including Hateley, who would go on to win a Theatre World Award. Whatever that is.
And the incomparable, scene-chewing Betty Buckley was brought in to replace Barbara Cook in the role of Mrs White. Interestingly (at least for me), Buckley had played Carrie’s teacher, the sympathetic yet still-doomed-to-be-crushed Miss Collins, in the 1976 film.
According to Ken Mendelbaum, “Buckley gave a heroic performance in a role ideally suited to her steely voice and chilling intensity.” And with the equally Wagnerian Hateley giving as good as she got, “the mother-daughter scenes constituted the most genuinely operatic material to be found in any pop opera.”
Do yourself a favour — search youtube for Buckley and Hateley singing “And Eve Was Weak” (Broadway Soundboard) to see a boot-legged copy of 4 minutes and 26 seconds of hot-box crazy. Hot-box crazy genius.
Thanks in no small part to the twin-belting performances of Buckley and Hateley, Carrie may go down in history as the greatest flop to receive consistent standing ovations during it’s very, very short run.
It also lost its entire $8 million dollar investment from British and German backers.
Carrie opened on Broadway on May 12th, 1988. She was dead and buried by May 15th, after just 5 performances. As Carrie’s unsympathetic classmates sang to her in the unfortunate coming-of-age shower scene in Act I, Her Mother Should’ve Told Her.
[title of show] fans — aka: [tos]ers — know all about Monkeys + Playbills. For the uninitiated, it’s a song in the show. Starved for ideas for their original musical, Jeff turns to his collection of Playbills from flop Broadway shows for inspiration. What follows is a song that includes the titles of some 40-plus Broadway disasters.
(Hunter, meanwhile, is doing something inexplicable with monkeys. That’s another story.)
But Monkeys + Playbills is not just a song. It’s an opportunity for a g’nerd like myself to fire up the Google Machine and research the great white elephants of the Great White Way. And, assuming there are other g’nerds out there, share it with y’all.
Perhaps we’ll uncover a cautionary tale or two. Perhaps we’ll discover that when it comes to creating Musical Theatre Magic, no idea is too absurd. At the very least, we’ll have the opportunity to laugh at other people’s misfortunes — which is, in itself, perhaps the seed of an idea: Schadenfreude, the Musical!
I’m not going to tackle the most current debacle, Spiderman, the Musical because:
1) it’s already all over the world wide web, and
b) it hasn’t officially flopped. Not yet. And not for lack of trying.
And, although it’s tempting, I’m not going to include my personal stories from the trenches of The Lord of the Rings, the Musical because:
a) I’ve already done that (see The Hobbit Letters: web.me.com/gvanderwoude/Gregs_Site/Welcome.html) and I don’t want to blog a dead horse. And,
2) it doesn’t qualify because it never actually got to Broadway, thus sparing the producers the embarrassment of it becoming a Broadway flop. They caught a break there.
So we’ll begin, first thing tomorrow, with what will be considered by many to be the greatest Broadway Bomb of the 20th Century.
Any guesses?
Hint: she was a zesty mess in a dirty dress.
