I can only hope that after dedicating almost every Sunday over the past six months to the musical culture that you understand how much I miss theater. Ever since those doors closed in order to comply with current COVID-19 guidelines, there’s been a small piece of me that has been crushed, not able to fully get over the missing sensation. By this point in my year, I am rounding my second or even third show of October with plans to see a now-defunct production of Assassins by the great people at Long Beach Landmark Theater. There are small things that I miss because there’s nothing quite like being in the audience for those shows.
I’ll admit in some respects I am out of my depth in this post. While I have spent a few weeks on the east coast, my time in New York is so brief that I may as well have never been there. I have never stood on Broadway, only ever seeing those magnificent billboards hanging from the greatest theater houses in the country in videos. My exposure to most shows doesn’t come until either Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade or even The Tony Awards. While I clamor onto soundtracks the minute I find them available, I can’t say that I will be able to tell you what most of these stories look like. I am not well-versed (or condoning) the bootleg market, so the best I can do is interpret the quality of these shows.
Which makes this year’s ceremony particularly strange. Whereas theater is a thing that’s driven by constant enthusiastic conversations, this year has felt more sparse. While I’ve been following the next phase of Hadestown’s success with Anais Mitchell’s book (and Christmas album!), it’s not the same as anticipating the show when it finally got to The Ahmanson Theater in the near future, making me understand the immersive impact of the stagecraft. I’ve only been able to hear things about how the stage is another captivating tool of this already powerful show.
For the most part, I will be focusing on the musical category because that is the one that is often most accessible to me. Touring productions have allowed me to predict what shows would be hitting the west coast within the next two years. I could see Dear Evan Hansen win Best Musical one year and see it at the end of the next. While I’m sure there’s an equivalent example for plays, it doesn’t feel as advertised, and thus I’m not as likely to go after the new stuff. I know, it’s my fault. Then again, plays are much more difficult to translate because whereas musicals have songs you can expect like a band at a concert, I’m more likely to see the playwright than the plot if I go blindly.
It’s painful to know that theater is nearer to a year without a regular production. Ever since everything closed down in March, they’ve been trying to find ways to stay relevant. They’ve done web shows that can entertain in small doses, but it’s not the same. The constant discussion that artists are in economic struggles spikes my anxiety, realizing some terrible connection I share with some of the more talented, hard-working performers out there. Whereas I’m duped out of seeing a production of Newsies, those performers are out of work, maybe to never do the show again. And, if they do it again, they would need to get back into shape after months of isolation and inactivity. It’s not going to spring back into shape by the end of COVID-19. There will likely be rehearsals before even test runs are considered.
Which makes this year’s Tony Awards even more shocking. How could there even be nominations in a year where most of the big shows that, in any other situation, would be on the verge of opening. Mrs. Doubtfire was on the verge of opening, hopefully releasing a soundtrack to keep my ears entertained. So many things that we take for granted in a year were removed, and suddenly it becomes abundantly clear what is lost because of this pandemic. It’s not just the loss of such great artists as Adam Schlesinger and Nick Cordero to this terrible virus. It’s that this isn’t representative of the calendar year in a proper way.
It’s the type of results that are predictable and yet inevitable. It’s something that makes you wonder why they waited so long for this announcement. It feels unceremonious that The Tony Awards, one of the greatest achievements in theater, has an announcement that feels underwhelming, more of a sad joke than what every other year is. Sure you may disagree with who was nominated, but no two categories felt duplicated with favoritism. Here, almost every category features the same three musicals vying for wins. There’s even one (Best Actor in a Musical) that practically has a winner with lone nominee Aaron Teviet of Moulin Rouge!: The Musical.
As someone who has set up a goal to see every Tony-winning Best Musical winner in its history, I look at these nominees and have a variety of emotions. All three of them feel like they’re designed as vaguely different jukebox musicals. It’s not that I think this type of entertainment is inessential. I think there’s something to telling a reverent story about the artists who impact our lives and giving us a fun night, but that always struck me as more of a Las Vegas act. I don’t care about Jersey Boys, Mama Mia, or even Escape to Margaritaville. This isn’t a criticism of the shows themselves, but it feels designed to make you shout: shut up and play the hits!
Again, I am very limited in my understanding of these three shows outside of their title and tagline. I can be persuaded to see any of these shows at a reasonable price. It’s just that I love stories crafted with songs that feel organic to the story, making you feel immersed in the story. I don’t exactly get that from a soundtrack made up of songs I heard better, more charismatic artists perform on a CD I bought from Second Spin. Also, much like movie biopics, I worry that every single one of them is painfully similar.
Here are the three shows that are vying for Best Musical: Tina: The Tina Turner Musical, Moulin Rouge!: The Musical, and Jagged Little Pill. All three have titles that are almost designed to tell you exactly what they are. You know what you’re going to get when you see any of them. Well, in fairness you may not know what concoctions Moulin Rouge! will come up with since it’s a mash-up musical within a mash-up musical, but even then you have an idea of what the story is. Frankly, as someone who found the movie abhorrent and the OBCR for this show grating, I don’t even know why it’s on here. It’s infuriating and I pray to God this won’t win.*
*Note: I am having a terrible track record this year of having my least favorite things win major awards. The other noteworthy achievement is going almost a year of wanting The Los Angeles Lakers to not win The NBA Finals only to have them win in unceremonious obviousness. I hope Moulin Rouge! isn’t Round 2.
Though, if I’m being honest, I am vaguely curious about Jagged Little Pill for a variety of reasons. For starters, Alanis Morisette as an artist has a confessional style that compliments narrative fusion pretty well. There are some great songs in there, though I can’t be bothered to listen to the OBCR because, frankly, it’s like listening to a less interesting version of “Isn’t It Ironic?” I don’t need to hear any of these covers because I will just get distracted by the fact that Morisette does it so much better.
 |
| Hero |
My assumption is that, based on the description, it’s more in line with recent shows like Next to Normal and Dear Evan Hansen that will explore family dynamics in a way that is powerful and I’m a sucker for. Another major selling point, and something that I may get into one day, is that it’s written by first-time playwright Diablo Cody. Ever since Juno (2007), she has been one of the most influential writers in my life. I love most of her movies, “Candy Girl” is a fun read, and I would love to see her add Tony-winner to her name. If nothing else, she has defied expectations by continuing to be relevant in small ways.
That’s the thing. Even my preferred show on this list is one that I can’t be bothered to listen to the soundtrack for. I am sure that it’s fun. I will like how they translated the sound to the stage, but in my head, it still feels like a novelty act. I’m sure that Tina will have more authenticity, but I have to ask how it’s any different from Ain’t Too Proud, The Cher Show, or Summer: The Donna Summer Show (which, forgive me, I’ve mistaken Tina for every time I’ve ever heard of it). While each of these shows has its own merit, they all blend together terribly. I’d rather just have a Dreamgirls that has fun with pastiche and makes an original show than understand why Tina Turner’s life was worth turning into a stage show.
Because this all comes down to bias. You can persuade me that these three shows are great, but it feels like the results of premature closings. Nobody feels set up to be a loser. I respect The Tony Awards for making the most out of a bum hand, but as someone who has to wait months, building anticipation and general interest, sometimes all I have are soundtracks to play, random videos of talk show performances to keep me entertained. Frankly, I can’t see myself getting enthused like I did for Dear Evan Hansen or Hadestown. Those felt organic to their plot. All I’m likely to see with Jagged Little Pill is a cutesy cover sung in an entirely different pitch.
I bring this up because, as I mentioned earlier, I want to see every Best Musical winner. To me, a Tony winner is just as symbolic of greatness as your Oscars. It’s an index for people who want to see great theater for a fun evening or, more crucially, to understand what makes this art form special. It’s an endorsement that tells you that this matters. You may disagree on how and spend years complaining about how Avenue Q beat Wicked, but it’s what makes entertainment great. While you can be not-fun™ and just complain about how awards are a soulless hierarchy, I feel like they’re more a chance for preservation and a way to organically build a conversation about what matters and what should that wasn’t recognized. It’s two-fold that way.
At the end of the day, I find myself looking at these three and asking what show I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a room with. I will see the winner eventually, anyway. So why not go with Jagged Little Pill? As a Diablo Cody fan going on 13 years, I want to believe that she has brought something to this story that matters, that makes this some subversive art that I will feel silly for doubting. Sure, its soundtrack lacks originality, but then again God Help the Girl (2014) manages to incorporate Belle & Sebastian songs into one of the best indie musicals of the past decade. There’s room to be proven wrong.
It’s hard to be either excited or disappointed about The Tony Awards. Maybe if I was aware of whatever was cut (which has to be a fraction of a percent), I’d have something more to talk about here. For now, I have to say that it’s a fitting symbolism for how theater feels in 2020. You want it so much, but it can only offer so much. At best, you’re getting duets on Zoom between Ben Platt and Idina Menzel. This is a year that feels as exciting as when Memphis won (which if I had to describe it, I would call it “Hairspray’s white-bread cousin”). That’s just how things go sometimes. At a certain point, you just have to accept that there are good and bad years, and this is on the lesser side. Here's hoping that things turn around by 2021. Here’s hoping that anything can happen at all, because I’d dread a world where the only shows that qualify are 5% of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cinderella, and that Princess Diana musical that’s being filmed without an audience. That may be even more depressing.
Comments
Post a Comment