False Start: “In Trousers” (1979)

*NOTE: The following essay is in reference to the original 1979 production of the show and doesn’t take into consideration the expansion and rewrites that were done in 1985.

When looking through the history of musicals, it’s easy to find subject matter for Gay Pride Month. The theater has been largely embracing of different perspectives, allowing LGBT artists to express themselves for decades with enthralling stories that teach the universal theme of empathy. That is why it would be easy to spend the next four weeks playing roulette and pulling out all of the hits, covering La Cage Aux Folles one week and The Prom another. 

But if I’m being honest, there is one particular queer musical that has enthralled me since I first discovered it in 2016. Following a revival starring Elder Price himself Andrew Rannells, Falsettos, I became intrigued to see what this show had to say. It was a story that came out during the AIDS crisis and reflected a gay relationship that in a lot of ways broke stereotypes. With protagonist Marvin, he was allowed to be flawed and human, never falling into wrist-flailing gimmicks. This was a chance to treat gay rights as something more honest and real, and it’s arguably the most powerful Broadway musical on the subject.

What becomes especially fascinating is to study the history with music and lyricist William Finn, whose road to bringing Marvin’s story to Broadway wasn’t overnight. It wasn’t even in the same decade. By 1992 when it finally became its final form of Falsettos, it had gone through many forms, compiling everything from three previous Off-Broadway musicals that dated back to 1979. 

“The Marvin Trilogy” has fascinated me ever since, as Falsettos is more than a greatest hits compilation. It’s the evolution of a queer perspective between late-70s culture and the early-90s, reflective of how gay men have hidden their passion in a quest to try and live normal lives. Marvin has a wife and child, but to say that it satisfies him is farcical. He is neurotic and unhappy, creating a delightful subversion on the theme of the suburban existential crisis that had populated musicals of the time like Company and A Chorus Line. 

In a lot of ways, he’s just like every other burnout who hates the bland complacency that he’s been stuck in. However, it’s much different than everyone else because Marvin’s story is one of repression, where his desires are unfulfilled because of how society demonizes the LGBT community. Of course, by the time of Falsettos, the picture had changed significantly, but in 1979 there was more of an innocence to everything, allowing Marvin to have his own comedic musical so long as it reflected the pain that he had inside.

Considering the legacy that Finn would have in the decades to come, it’s interesting to see where he started in 1979 with In Trousers. The original form of the musical was updated and expanded upon in the years following, but upon its release was this raw 80-minute one-act show about a man who had “giddy seizures” and had a songbook as wacky and silly as they come. It was a subversive technique not unlike Sondheim, borrowing the pageantry of upbeat Busby Berkeley musicals that reveled in funny phrases and catch melodies to explore deeply rooted pain underneath.

Due to limited access to the music (it’s not on Spotify), one has to turn to the Original Broadway Cast Recording as a document of this era. The show was minimalist, featuring a cast of four with Chip Zien, Alison Fraser, Joanna Green, and Mary Testa. The majority of the orchestra was also bare-bones, being driven largely by peppy piano melodies. Even if this means that it sounds cheap when compared to other OBCR’s of the time, there is a wonderful curiosity on display within these songs.

The only real character in this narrative is Marvin, who is described as having everything that he ever wanted. With a family, he looks back on his life with vivid clarity, emphasizing his years in high school. There’s a whole subplot involving a Christopher Columbus play as well as a relationship with his teacher Miss Goldberg. Then there’s the heart of the story, where Marvin has a sexual awakening that will last him the next 13 years. His name is Whizzer, and he’s the central figure who makes Marvin feel alive, giving him a reason to live. The only issue is that because of social norms, he can never be with Whizzer.

Despite being crucial to the bigger Falsettos lore, Whizzer doesn’t appear in the show. He is only mentioned once in “Whizzer Going Down.” Most of the people in the show aren’t necessarily fleshed out to the degree that they will be later because this is the most intimate look at Marvin's understanding of his sexuality. It’s the torment that comes with strained marriages that fall apart for tragic reasons. The fact that the supporting cast feature “His Wife” and “His Sweetheart” as character names alone shows how personal we’re expecting to get with the own personal journeys.

If they’re used in any significant way, it’s as back-up singers, not unlike a doo-wop band who exist as additional commentary. Despite the upbeat quality of these three women, Marvin is at odds with himself, trying to find a connection that this show just doesn’t have. His whole life he’s taught that he’s supposed to be attracted to women, and the lack of male counterparts in the show creates a better understanding of how lonely he is.

It’s a psychological evaluation of Marvin that can be found in-between the lines, where the comedy paves the way for scathing commentary on his mentality. In the opening song “Marvin’s Giddy Seizures,” he is proudly declared to have “the seizure of the year,” though nobody thinks to look into why he’s having these episodes. It also helps to paint how mentally he’s different from everyone, unable to have the same literal headspace of his peers. Even when he tells them he’s having a seizure, they treat it like a fluke, a fad that he will grow out of. He just needs love, and everything will be fine.

But what is love for Marvin? When starting In Trousers, you’re not immediately noticing his homosexuality. Maybe this is just a story of a familiar Jewish stereotype of being highly neurotic. Going further into the show, there’s “My Chance to Survive the Night,” which finds Marvin detailing his love life with girls, still sounding like he’s more nebbish, claiming that:

I had a girl.

She cut her lip on the sofa by the door.

The sofa was blue before.

That’s it for girls.

There are few exchanges like this throughout the song. There’s no real focus on sexuality or attractiveness. He’s more interested in sleeping through the night. It’s an isolated act, wanting to be out of this situation as quickly as possible. While there are allusions that something may be different (he references finding “a queer little thing with lots of regret”) you’d be forgiven for seeing this character study as something platonic, that he’s trying to recall what’s so special about his wife. In the next song “I Am Wearing a Hat,” His Wife explores how she too is playing a role in this game, acting out a performance that we’ve been told to play for centuries.

There is something comedic and exaggerated about Marvin and His Wife’s marriage, presented with eccentric fanfare in “How Marvin Eats His Breakfast,” which is cartoonish in how he is seen as a king. He proudly sings “I love being Marvin!” as the back-up singers detail his actions like they’re this amazing breakthrough. When he doesn’t get his way, things become homicidal and his hunger gets the best of him. By the end, he’s frustrated that things aren’t going well, and his anger conflicts the vision of happiness that starts the song with the sour reality he’s currently in. As he sings:

I dreamt all night of hips and legs,

Now I want some eggs- things I might... relate to.

After an argument continues in “A Breakfast Over Sugar,” things shift and we finally understand something that maybe even Marvin didn’t understand before this. With “Whizzer Going Down,” there is finally a sense of happiness that rings through his body. After spending the previous eight songs unable to relate to women, we’re introduced to Whizzer Brown, off-stage and probably never even cast. He is this fictional man who exists only in lyrics. Even then, he’s one of the most vivid and alive characters in Marvin’s life:

He rubs my neck

I rub his thigh

He asked me why I sweat

I ask him why he bites his nails

And then he takes me in his arms

And he lights another cigarette

I say Whizzer, Whizzer Brown

I see Whizzer going down

Finally, an act of intimacy in Marvin’s life that brings clarity to what makes him happy. Suddenly his isolation isn’t drawn by his lack of attraction, but more his nervousness to ever have true love. This is a relationship that has something passionate at its core, but Marvin is still scared, more willing to pick fights than let things run their natural course. It makes sense why Finn decided to expand on this show, as there is plenty in this relationship that ties with the shifting gay rights during the upcoming Ronald Reagan Administration. Considering that this sensuous passage is punctuated by Marvin’s own nervousness, it’s a side of gay culture that the mainstream wasn’t ready for. Even heterosexual people discussing oral sex like this was taboo but still more acceptable.

There’s the denial that Marvin goes through after, trying to make a move on his teacher Miss Goldberg (“The Rape of Miss Goldberg”) that involves him saying “Marvin gets what he wants” repeatedly as if he has to convince himself that this is normal. Once again it’s exaggerated to the point that it’s a comedic take on his neuroses. While the act itself is crass, Finn makes it more about the struggle for Marvin to be normal, and in the process makes this forced intimacy feel broad and unappealing (even musically) when compared to “Whizzer Goes Down.” There is no love here, just the idea of what other people who don’t have giddy seizures think about love.

Even with subplots about an unhappy marriage and a Christopher Columbus play, the story amounts to Marvin trying to find ways to express himself. He is only capable of doing it in a fictional sense, where he’s playing a different character. He is wearing a hat that maybe doesn’t fit him, and it’s goofy and tragic. The comedy stains into sadness, and Marvin’s neuroses suddenly become a cry for acceptance. The ending is brutal, as “Another Sleepless Night” paves the way for the titular song “In Trousers (The Dream),” which is prophetic in its symbolism:

Four young ladies sat around and said

They’d never lose their love

And then they lost their love

Five good men in trousers banged a table

And they found their voice

What this means is that one man goes without love at any one point in that scenario. While the song paints everyone else’s happiness, it’s also a chance for the backing singers to reflect their distance from Marvin, singing without him and going on about how he needs love. The recurring motif reminds us that somebody is always alone, never receiving all the love that they deserve. It’s painful and ominous, ending with a note so dour that you’ll need a minute to catch your breath. 

Is Marvin deserving of happiness? Well, we all are when you think about it. However, he hasn’t found it in the conventional sense, and having this musical reflect his anguish shows a struggle that was fairly common among gay men at the time. How do you experience joy when society says it’s wrong? Finn’s ability to make this character study may have a chintzy quality with a ton of premature lyric choices like “Look at Marvin in the tubby/Scrubby dubby, dubby” (“Marvin Takes a Victory Shower”), but it’s a satire that parallels how the happy side of society saw themselves compared to the anguish inside of Marvin.

Also with “In Trousers (The Dream),” it’s a haunting foreshadowing that might be coincidental in 1979. The idea of Marvin losing his love is a theme that will appear in later versions of the story and is the central theme of Falsettos.

But that’s to look into a future that seemed less certain when this show premiered. It’s a low key production that never sounded like it was going to start a musical franchise. Who knew that a story about a sad sack like Marvin would eventually make it to Broadway? Still, its decision to start a conversation was quietly revolutionary. While a notorious review from The Times almost made Finn leave the musical theater for good (let’s be thankful he didn’t), his collaboration with James Lapine on what would become Falsettoland and March of the Falsettos would lead to bigger and better things.

On one hand, it’s easy to see why In Trousers failed to have a single song in the final show. They’re reflective of an artist still honing their skills, finding out the best way to express themselves. Still, it’s a crucial part of The Marvin Trilogy as more than a starting point. It showed boldness and willingness to explore complicated themes in such a way that it entertained, even challenging the medium. It’s a great curio with enough quality here to reflect why Finn went onto greater things after this. Still, let’s be thankful that his first outing wasn’t his last, as the world deserved to know what happened to Marvin in the decade ahead, as his life was rewritten and became something more significant.