00059: GYPSY WITH AUDRA MAcDONALD (BROADWAY)

January 12, 20255

As someone who teaches musical theatre and has dedicated his last 10 years of teaching to centering people of color within the theatre world, I have talked about George C. Wolfe and other African American theatre artist who have tried to break the Broadway mold. Going to see Gypsy was not about seeing the musical but the work of George C. Wolfe as director and the star of the show, Audra McDonald.

During the fall semester, I talked about Shuffle Along (among many other shows), which was done on Broadway in 1921, and how this musical was an influence to many other musicals of the time. I also talked about George C. Wolfe and his reimagining of the musical, giving it a new titled, Shuffle Along or the Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and all that Followed. And while I never saw the adaptation, I know a few things about it to understand that George C. Wolfe tried to make a statement in regards to African American entertainers and Broadway. And so, with this in mind, I took my seat at the Majestic Theatre to enjoy the greatness of Audra and Wolfe, but I was not ready for what was about to happen. 

To say that the production under George C. Wolf was spectacular is an understatement. To say that Audra was a marvel to watch on stage is diminishing her talent. Both the direction and acting were strong (as expected) and far more emotional and challenging (in a good way) than expected. I also anticipated the director to make settle but very important statements about race with the production. He didn't disappoint. 

The music, the lyrics, and the story are all great, most of us know that. After all, the majority of historians and theatre critics considered Gypsy the best musical ever written. They are not wrong, okay, we are not wrong. The sets, the lights, the costumes, and the makeup, were all, of course, on point. The acting, the singing, and the dancing, as well as the choreography were also all excellent. What I want to concentrate on, instead, is the directorial approach by Wolfe and the interpretation of Rose by McDonald.

To start, when Rose "collects" the different boys that will be part of June's act, all the boys are African American. I expected this because this is George C. Wolfe and he could make that happen. Also, Rose and her two daughters are African American so it made sense to have an ensemble of Black boys. But once the musical number that serves to show the passing of time comes around and the boys "grow up," they are all replaced by White teenagers. And while this switch may not have a significance to many in the audience, it does become a very important choice and statement from the director. It sets up the question: Why make such change? The answer, of course, comes later in the story. 

Second: When June and Louise find themselves waiting for her mother and George to discuss their new vaudeville contract with an influential producer, the two sisters sing the musical number "If Mama was Married." It is here in this number where we clearly see two sisters who, although love their mother, have started to develop a desire to be free from their mother's tight grip. But while Louise (played by Joy Woods) always sings the phrase "if mama was married," in a sweet tone, projecting a hope that she may or may not be able to reach, June sings the same phrase with anger, projecting a very strong resentment towards her mother.

Never before have I seen such interpretation of the song. People, including myself, laughed at some of the commentary the girls made about their mother, and we also start to feel sorry for the young women. With Jordan Tyson in the role of June, you also start to see how this song becomes the moment when June expresses the hate she feels toward her own mother. While both actresses have strong voices, sing with energy, and beautiful harmonies, their interpretation under Wolfe's direction, turns this song into a foreshadowing and a sad reality for the sisters, who, sooner or later will have to be strong enough to disengage from their mother, especially June who is now showing us a life that is horrifying to her rather than filled with joy. Her anger and resentment is real.

Later in the story, Rose finds out that June and one of the boys from the act have gotten married behind her back; they also have eloped. Rose, then decides that Louise will now lead their vaudevillian act but instead of creating a new act for Louise, Rose simply tries to make Louise like June, forceing her to wear June's blonde wig. But Louise isn't happy with Rose's choice so she tells her mother, "I don't want to be blonde; I want to use my own black hair." It is at this moment when we are able to connect the reason why Rose "switched" from having young black boys to white teens. We come to realized that Rose not only wanted June to be successful in show business, but understood that in oder to "make it," June needed to portray the "blonde beauty." This is a very poignant moment in the musical because without changing anything in the musical, in terms of its writing, Mr. Wolfe highlights the difficulty and struggles vaudeville black troupes experienced (and how today Black actors continue to experience) in show business. Rose's decision to replace her black boys for white teenagers is a "smart" career move, and a smart directorial decision to highlight the struggle of Black entertainers. 

Let's move now to Audra's performance. From the start, Audra commands attention, mainly because she is a powerhouse on stage. One cannot help but to cheer and clap the moment she enters. But also because the way she slowly injects little acting choices to Mama Rose. At first, she's just a regular stage mom, with demands about this and that. But soon, we start to see beyond the strong-will woman who wants her daughter June to succeed in show business. We start to see her obsession, her over-powering control over every single detail of those around her, including George (played incredibly strong by Danny Burstein), who slowly and surely figures out that Rose has only one objective: show business. 

As the story develops, Audra's Rose start to show signs of weakness and fear. "Everyone always leaves me," she tells us. And while we all may feel sorry for her, we quickly start to understand that it is her own doing that makes people leave. I was closed enough to see Audra's eyes twitch, her hands tremble, her mind drifting in thought whenever a situation became difficult. When June leaves, Rose only allows her a few seconds in her mind, and you almost see the pain in Audra's face, but, all of the sudden, she hides her pain by deciding to rebuild the vaudeville act with Louise at the front. 

Later, when the day comes for Rose to marry George, we all know is not going to happen because, in  previous scene, when George asked her to marry her, Rose's answer was "yes," but Audra's body language and facial expression was telling us otherwise-the twitching and hand-shaking was there again. The day of the wedding, we see Rose feeling uneasy, and it is Audra's defeated body language and mumbling lines that let us know that not only her show business dream has come to an end, but also that she does not want to marry the man that loves her. Yet there is no escape for she promised George to marry him when their vaudeville act contract ended. And by now, all the members of their vaudeville act have gone, so she must fulfill her promise. Yet, when she suddenly hears that the headliner for the burlesque act is nowhere to be found and that the show is in a bind, Audra's body suddenly perks up, and as if hit by a lightning bolt, Rose is full of energy and decision making, telling the burlesque director that her daughter Louise can fill the lead's spot. It is here where George comes to a realization and decides to leave Rose as she sacrifices her daughter Louise's freedom and happiness, over a burlesque act.

And so, Louise becomes the infamous Gypsy Rose Lee, and even with all her success, she isn't able to make her mother Rose entirely happy. We see a depressed woman now, and, at the same time, a woman who sacrificed everything for her daughters, and who also regrets not being under the spotlight herself. When Audra sing the gut-wrenching last song ("Rose's Turn") we are witnesses to a woman who slowly starts to deteriorate before our very own eyes. The repetition of the lyrics and the inability to sing some of them, suddenly become hunting, shocking, and horrifying as we see Rose loosing her composure, her mind, and her spirit. By the end of the song, we are devastated because Mrs. McDonald delivers one of the most powerful interpretations of the song ever done before. The Rose we met at the top of the show is no more. Yes, many actresses before Mrs. MacDonal have belted the song to stratosphere levels, Audra doesn't need to do that, all she needs to do is deliver a powerful interpretive performance, which she does as no one ever before. And that brought not only chills but tears to Louise, who is watching her mother from the sidelines, and also to the eyes of many audience members, including me. 

At the end of the song, the audience stood up on their feet, given Mrs. McDonald an almost five-minute ovation that was only stopped by Louise's first line in the last scene, and while in prior performances Louise has walked off stage, leaving her mother behind, or has walked off stage and has signaled Rose to join her, in this production, Louise gives her mother her expensive lush fur shoulder boa and a very strong heart-felt hug. Then, showing her compassion, offers Rose her hand, and slowly both, mother and daughter walk off into the sunset. And the tears continue. 

GYPSY BOWS

This musicals gets four very emotional snaps!

00057: SUNSET BOULEVARD (BROADWAY)

January 13, 2025

Before I start my review on this Broadway revival, let me be very transparent about one thing: I DO NOT LIKE ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER'S MUSIC. I find it simplistic, repetitive (read boring), and from a whole musical theatre composition one or two song are good and the rest are just noise. And while I will never be able to compose a single musical group of two notes myself, I believe his musical theatre compositions are to theatre what pop music is to music in general: catering to the simplistic mind. You may agree or disagree with me. That isn't important.

Now that such thing is out of the way, allow me to talk about the Broadway production of SUNSET BLVD's revival. This production was excellent, not because of the music and/or lyrics, but because of its directorial concept and approach. 

The musical is based on the 1950's film of the same name, a film that was done in black and white and received an OSCAR for its art direction (being filmed in black and white.) The revival's director, Jamie Lloyd, took note of such achievement and follow on such steps by presenting the musical as a black and white cinematic concept. Such approach paid off. 

The actors wear black costumes with touches of white here and there, a white t-shirt, a white tank top, or white socks, or a hint of white in some of the costumes. The lighting is stark, harsh, and white, and coming from all directions, projecting giant shadow on the standing walls found in front of the proscenium arch. There is no set, just an empty stage where actors are free to move as slow as possible, or a fast as needed, and in configurations where the choreography at times is dance moves, at times is interpretive dancing, and at times is simply artistic movement. Add to that movie cameras manipulated by different chorus members, projecting the actors on stage and/or close ups of specific actors on a giant moveable screen that appears and disappears, and you have a musical that is being done not only onstage but also on the screen as a black and white movie. The result, a cinematic feast on a live stage. Pure art!

Mandy Gonzalez

The original actress playing Norma Desmond is Nicole Scherzinger, which according to reviews and word of mouth is fantastic in the role. I, however got to see Mandy Gonzalez and I couldn't be happier because as a Latinx Theatre artists, seeing another Latinx Theatre artist in such a role brings personal pride. I only mention this fact because in the show I saw, all the original cast, but one of the actor, performed on stage, and all of them did a wonderful job. 

This review is not about the music or the lyrics or the musical composition, trust me, it is not. There are a couple of songs that stand out ("Sunset Boulevard" and "As If We Never Said Goodbye"), but nothing else. does This review is about the directorial concept and the technical aspects of the show, which make the musical bearable to watch. Honestly, I was bored with the music but the lighting, the choreography, and the camera work kept me paying attention, even when I wanted to leave. 

As I said before, all the actors did a wonderful job in their roles as actors and singers. The chorus also played an incredible role in this production and they all did an excellent job. It is the music that doesn't really convince me. Several times I heard short snipes from other shows: CATS, Evita, Phantom. And like in the other musicals, in Sunset Blvd, only a couple of songs become a highlight. But the visual creation on stage and the camera work, brought the scenes to life and gave them new perspective. 

Before the Show

There is one particular scenes when two characters are confessing their love for each other, even though they are dating other people. During this scene we see one of the other people on stage (Norma), in the background, hovering like a menacing shadow (and it does makes sense), while the other character being talked about is seen on the screen, crying, and as audience members we understand what is going on and how their heart is being or will be broken when learning that the women he loves is actually in love with someone else. This is an emotional moment that stays with us for a while. It is, because like in a film, the camera help us focus our attention on who is being affected by the scene being performed. It is scenes like this that makes this on stage musical, feel like a film. And for this reason, along with all the excellent technical work and directorial choices that Sunset Blvd is a good piece of theatre, as long as you are able to put up with the musical mediocrity of its composer. 

This Broadway revival gets two artistic snaps. 

00055: THE SIGNS OF BURNED OUT ARE SHOWING!!!

I have been directing for many years, more than I care to admit. In my long years as a theatre director, I have learned many things, mainly that I don't know everything. Throughout my directing tenure I have made mistakes from which I have learned some important lessons. Regardless of the benefits, the majority of those mistakes have been forgotten; they're gone with the wind. Others, however, still lurk in the back of my mind just to remind me that, although I may be a theatre director, I am not that good of a theater director. In short, the many mistakes I have made in my directing career have kept me in check. 

One of the biggest mistakes I made long ago, was allowing the artistic director of a certain company to influence my casting decision. I had the perfect actor for a specific role. And being that such role was very important within the show, I knew this particular actor was the perfect match for the role. This actor had the commanding voice the character required. They also had the singing chops the role demanded. (I was directing a musical.) They had the acting chops, the attitude, and a very clear understanding of the character. Yet, when it came to casting the show, I allowed the artistic director to dictate who the actor for that specific role should be. I knew it was the wrong choice, so I fought back, but after some going back and forth, I gave in and cast the person they wanted.

Through the rehearsal process, I quickly realized what an incredible mistake I had made by casting such an actor. I went back to the artistic director and voiced my worried about the casting choice. I was told I was exaggerating and that the actor was fine; "They just needed practice." A few days later, I unintentionally learned that the actor I had cast had provided a hefty donation and had also promised free advertising for the theater's season. You cannot imagine the anger and the disappointment I felt toward myself at that moment, as well as the guilt I felt for the rest of the cast. 

Through the rehearsal process I tried my best to ignore anger, doubts, and struggles; I honestly made an effort to work around the actor's inefficiencies. Behind the scenes, the cast worried about the actor's inability to perform its best and, behind closed doors, they continually questioned the reason(s) why I had cast such an actor. The night the show opened, the actor froze in the middle of his most important song. The orchestra kept on playing, revamping over and over, and over, but nothing. The actor just stood on stage, looking out the audience, terrified. Other actors tried to help him by "humming" the lyrics and some even started singing some of the lines. But no one knew what to do because no one ever expected the actor to completely freeze on stage the way they did. And as I witness such event from the audience, my heart sunk along with my body. By the time the actor came back from whatever stage fright trip they had taken, the damage had been done.

After the show, the company hold a reception for patrons, theater donors, special guests, the cast, and crew. The infamous actor didn't show. And I wish I could have done the same but, as a director, I was expected to mingle with the crowd. I tell you, I never felt so uneasy in my life, and if I'm a master at faking smiles and "good times," this was the biggest test and I passed with flying colors. The next day, when the theatre review appeared in the main city's paper (yes, those existed back then), all my greatest fears were confirmed. All the actors were praised for their work and efforts, except one, of course. But the majority of the review concentrated on the directing, stating that I, as a director, did not had a clear understanding of the material because of some of my casting choices. The theatre reviewer went on to say that I perhaps I was not the right person to direct that particular musical or any musical for that matter. That comment hurt me the most for just a few months before, a very successful run of a much bigger musical had ended, and I had been praised for my directing vision and my unique approach to the material. It hadn't been in that particular city with that particular company, but still.  

I tell this story for two reasons: the first one is obvious, such experienced scared me for life and even now, after so many years, it still hunts me. The second, which is something I had never spoken about, is the fact that my biggest theatre mentor, my first acting and directing teacher, my guide, told me how disappointed they were because of show's results. I tried to explain myself and I even said, "Look, you know I got this gig because of my work on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Raincoat, which I directed and choreographed, by the way." It wan't my fault. I was forced to cast that actor. My mentor got very upset and even told me to stop making up excuses and accept my errors or I would never become a better person or director.

Our talk turned into an argument and I remember seeing my theater idol angrily walking away and leaving me standing in the middle of the room. After that exchange, I felt very disappointed in myself and also very hurt. I thought that if there was at least one person that could actually understand what had happened with that particular production, that person would be my mentor. Unfortunately I had created faulty expectations. As a result, I built a lot of resentment toward my mentor. In fact, after that encountered, we would never speak to each other again and I would never seek their mentorship. My mentor had been a pillar and theatre pioneer for the city and community, so when he passed, I only attended the funeral services, out of respect for said theater community. I was physically present but like Morales from A Chorus Line, I felt nothing. 

Today, I'm directing a play that could have been done with 12 actors. Instead, because I wanted to give opportunities to everyone and also "contribute to the building of our theatre program," I double the casting number. We have only been in rehearsal for a month and I'm already regretting my casting choice. Too many absences, too many unprepared actors, too many... well, no matter the reason(s), It's not their fault. I made the decision to cast them and I'm responsible to make sure they all understand the importance of punctuality and the responsibility of being part of a theatre production. 

I know that at the end, everything is going to turn out fine. The actors will know their lines and they will have their moment under the spotlight. The show will open and close and there will be something to celebrate by the end of the semester. Yet, the incidents happening right now, with students arriving late or calling in sick, is bothersome, and obviously is bringing up emotions and unresolved issues from the past. The skeletons in my closet are showing. 

There are sudden instances where I think I made the mistake of casting against my gut, and all because "I want to give students opportunities and help our theatre department grow". Or maybe my mistake is that I'm too soft nowadays and don't rule with an iron fist as I used to. Or maybe I'm just too old now to deal with the younger generations and their woke approaches to everything. Or maybe I have reached my limit, I'm burned out, tired, old, and directing shows with big cast numbers is no longer something I should be doing. Or maybe the time has come to retire. Yes, that's it! The time has come to retire. Wouldn't it be lovely? Unfortunately I'm too poor to stop working and not old enough to call it quits. I just have to take this project one day at a time, breathing every time I get a notice saying that so and so won't be there because of "this and that," and breathing once again because an actor doesn't have a pencil to take down blocking or they decided to go to the greenroom the moment they stepped out of their scene. Whatever the news, I just have to take big breaths and keep on going. 

Breathe, Carlos-Manuel. Breathe.