‘Big Fish’: Check Your Cynicism At The Door

Emotions soar in Big Fish, a powerhouse of a musical (book by John August, music and lyrics by Andrew Lippa) about love and reconciliation, heroes and myths, and the measure of a man’s life that got off to a splendid start at its first preview last night.

It began with an onstage appearance by director/choreographer Susan Stroman, who greeted the enthusiastic and packed house by announcing that the show had just come off a tech rehearsal, and that  this would actually be the first time the cast would be performing the entire show all the way through at the Neil Simon Theatre.

Ms. Stroman’s remarks were met with wild applause, but they did give me pause.  Was this a warning that Big Fish was not quite ready for prime time (even though the show did have a pre-Broadway run in Chicago in the spring)?

I needn’t have worried.  From the opening notes performed by a most able orchestra (under the direction of Mary-Mitchell Campbell) to the very end, we were in good hands indeed.  Noticeable glitches were minor, and—while I would recommend a couple of snips here and there—I’d say that Big Fish is poised to be a big hit.

This is not to suggest that it will suit the tastes of every consumer of musical theater.  Dealing as it does with mortality, the deep abiding love between husband and wife, and a difficult relationship between father and son, Big Fish makes for a most verklempt evening.  This is a show for romantics; cynics need not apply.

In addition, there is no straight-through plot, but rather an accumulation of experiences that only come to a fully realized whole at the end.  And best beware, if you have never been able to succumb to the many charms of Norbert Leo Butz, you should stay away—because he is onstage and performing for a large portion of the time.

As it happens, I am quite content to lose myself in an emotional story, especially one that has the courage of its convictions to present itself without a trace of nudge nudge wink wink.  And I do count myself as a Norbert Leo Butz fan.  I have seldom seen anyone so at home, so comfortable and confident, and so willing to give of himself onstage.     

Big Fish, as you probably know, is based on the novel and the movie of the same title. John August, who wrote the book for the musical, was also responsible for the screenplay for the film, in which the central role of Edward Bloom was split between Albert Finney and Ewan McGregor, representing the older and younger versions of the character. Here Mr. Butz carries it all, which does allow us to follow him back and forth in time without any confusion.

If you are unfamiliar with the plot, Butz plays a traveling salesman from a small rural Southern town.  His young son Will (Zachary Unger, with Anthony Pierini taking over on Wednesday and Saturday matinees), who becomes his grown-up son (the talented Bobby Steggert), understandably resents his father’s frequent absences while growing up. To add to their difficult relationship, Dad is a man of effusive imagination, who constantly weaves tales of witches and giants and mermaids in order to explain life’s mysteries, while Will is a down-to-earth pragmatist.  They simply clash on everything.

The movie version of Big Fish, directed by Tim Burton, was filled with visual magic, and Susan Stroman does a very good job staging these elements, aided in no small way by scenic designer Julian Crouch (responsible for another great theatrical fantasy, Shockheaded Peter), costume designer William Ivey Long (Tony winner for Cinderella), multiple Tony winning lighting designer Donald Holder (South Pacific, The Lion King), with outstanding projections by Benjamin Pearcy.

Even though it is the struggle for understanding between father and son that lies at the core of this story, Big Fish is blessed with the lustrous presence of Kate Baldwin as Sandra Bloom, Edward’s wife, who loves both her husband and her son and longs for their reconciliation.  She, too, gets considerable onstage time, and sings one of the show’s heart-melting numbers, “I Don’t Need A Roof.” 

Anyone whose heart is not made of stone will be deeply moved by this and the other soaring melodies that Andrew Lippa has composed for Big Fish.  The Act I closing number, “Daffodils,” is a romantic masterwork, and it follows on the heels of another, called “Time Stops” (beautifully staged), in which Edward first encounters Sandra. Bobby Steggert, who has a lovely tenor voice, gets his time in the spotlight as well, with a song about his father, “Stranger” being but one more example.  Also very compelling are the songs Edward sings to his son, “Be the Hero” and “Fight the Dragons.”

Mr. Lippa, who did not exactly make the world sit up and take notice with his score for The Addams Family, has come through with one beautiful melody after the other.  It could be there are too many of them, but there is not one of these that I would cut.  The orchestrations by Larry Hochman (loved the use of guitars, banjo, and flute) are also first-rate. 

If I were to cut anything, it would be the fantasy number that opens Act II, along with some other short fantasy snippets that tend to merely distract.  Big Fish shows enough of Edward’s imagination through the circus episodes (a terrific Brad Oscar is the ringmaster), appearances by Karl the giant (Ryan Andes, excellent as well), and the hallucinatory fantasy number “Showdown” that literally pops out of the television set.   Indeed, the only song I felt did not work well was “I Know What You Want,” sung by the character of the witch in Act I.  Even though the scene is well staged by Ms. Stroman, the song itself does not, in my view, adequately capture the significance of the moment. 

All told, however, Big Fish is a wonderful original work for the Broadway stage, with a compelling and complex story that Susan Stroman and company have shaped so very well.  It will be hard to top during this theater year.  By all means, if you are susceptible to romantic, fanciful, and heartfelt tales, you won’t want to miss it!

Feel free to tell your friends about this blog, and to share your own theater stories by posting a comment.

'Cinderella': Will You Love It Because It’s Beautiful?

A Sublime Moment from 'Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella'

You know who would just love Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella?

Jake, the four-year-old title character in Daniel Pearle’s play, A Kid Like Jake, currently  on view at the Claire Tow Theater. Much discussed but never seen, Jake has begun to show a distinct predilection for playing dress-up and for all things Cinderella, much to the discomfort of his parents.

I say go with the flow, Jake’s Mom and Dad. Honor your son’s—what do you call it?—“gender-variant play”—and take him to the Broadway Theatre to see Cinderella.  And after he has feasted his eyes on Anna Louizos’s dazzling set and William Ivey Long’s Tony-winning costumes, buy him a truckload of souvenirs, including the $25.00 glitter T-shirt, the $40.00 clock necklace, and the $30.00 tiara.  He will be in Cinderella Heaven!

The same goes for all you parents and caregivers out there.  The kids will love it, and, fortunately, you will find much to like as well.

This is true despite the fact that the production is excessively overwritten in order to stretch it out to two hours and fifteen minutes (including intermission—a good time to stock up on those souvenirs), thus rendering it suitable for a long run as a full-scale Broadway musical.  By way of contrast, the original 1957 television production, the one that starred Julie Andrews in the title role, ran for 76 minutes, which is just about the right length to get in all the good stuff. 

With this production, the good stuff begins with the score, orchestrated by Danny Troob and performed by a nice full orchestra under the direction of Andy Einhorn. I mean, we’re talking Rodgers and Hammerstein here, and even if Cinderella can be considered a lower-shelf work from the masters' oeuvre, it does contain some lovely songs: “In My Own Little Corner,” “Impossible,” “Ten Minutes Ago” (brings tears to my eyes every time), and “There’s Music In You,” a number interpolated from an obscure movie called Main Street to Broadway (1953) that becomes an anthem of empowerment that the Fairy Godmother sings to Cinderella.  Oh, those lovely, uplifting Hammerstein lyrics:

Move a mountain

Light the sky

Make a wish come true

There is music in you

It’s also nice to see a cast of over two dozen filling up the stage and dancing to the very fine choreography by Josh Rhodes.  The scene of the ball at the end of Act I is pretty near sublime. 

Finally, there are the performances, excellent to a person.  Santino Fontana (Prince Topher, aka Prince Charming), always a pleasure to watch on stage, was out during the performance I attended, but truly, his understudy Andy Jones handled the role with plenty of charm and aplomb of his own.  Since Cinderella marks his Broadway debut, this is no small accomplishment.  Laura Osnes as Cinderella, Victoria Clark as Crazy Marie (aka the Fairy Godmother), and Harriet Harris, Marla Mindelle, and Ann Harada as Cinderella’s step-family all shine in their respective roles.  And they are aided in no small part by the rest of the cast.  This is a big production, with big production numbers, and so much credit must go to director Mark Brokaw.

Unfortunately, there is a down side, driven by the determination to stretch this pleasant little show to the limits. 

Puzzling decisions include opening on a dense forest better suited to a certain Stephen Sondheim show (I was looking for the Baker and his Wife to show up, and half expected Cinderella to sing “I wish to go to the festival” instead of her opening number).  Then, what should come lumbering through the forest but a rogue Ent, the tree creature from Lord of the Rings.  Don’t ask. 

However, things do finally settle down, and Act I turns out to bear sufficient resemblance to the well-known tale so as to be pretty enjoyable.  The three lovely songs from the original production that I mentioned previously are all performed in the first act, and it does end with the delightful ball scene and Cinderella’s midnight escape. 

It is in Act II that things nearly collapse under the weight of Douglas Carter Beane’s new book.  He has re-imagined most of the key characters and has added a plot thread (a thread that grows into a hefty rope in Act II) about government corruption and the mistreatment of the peasants.  The jokes and the tone are disconcertedly modern and really do begin to interfere with the main storyline. It takes the sweetly romantic “Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful,” a wedding, and more of  William Ivey Long’s scrumptious costumes to bring us back into the story, so that it's (almost) possible to ignore the arrival of Mothra (sorry, I mean the Fairy Godmother) onto the scene, flying above everyone’s heads and bestowing her blessings on all. 

Although this production of Cinderella is decidedly a mixed bag, I’m not sorry I saw it, and if I had a little boy or girl, I would not hesitate to bring them. With the sets and costumes, the lively action, and the beautiful singing and dancing, there is plenty enough to please the kids and the grownups. The audience seemed to love it, and the cast appeared to be basking in the joy that spread through the theater.  There are, believe me, less entertaining ways to spend an evening.   

Feel free to tell your friends about this blog, and to

share your own theater stories by posting a comment.