Production History
With
each major production, a new footnote is made in the history of Guys and Dolls. From the original Broadway production in 1950
to the most recent Broadway revival in 2009, the show has grown and morphed
into this musical juggernaut. Though each
version tries to tweak the show in some fashion, the core concept remains the
same: tell the story truthfully.
Original/London
The
original Broadway production opened in 1950 at the 46th Street
Theatre. Audiences at the time did not
know what to expect when they took their seats that opening night. Besides the typical musical theatre fan, the
audience would have been full of critics, ready to skewer the show should it
not fit their sensibilities, and a lot of Damon Runyon fans, nervous of how the
stage would treat some of their favorite characters. The Runyon fans had nothing to worry about,
and the critics found little to nothing wrong.
In his review of the original production, Richard Watts of the New York
Post had this to say: “Guys and Dolls
is just what it should be to celebrate the Runyon spirit, vigorous, noisy,
humorous, tough on the surface and shamelessly sentimental underneath, filled
with the salty characters and richly original language sacred to the memory of
the Master, and a pleasure to all beholders” (Garebian 122).
As I mentioned previously, Feur and
Martin put together an amazing team to work on the musical: Frank Loesser
writing music and lyrics, Abe Burrows (eventually) writing the book, with
George S. Kaufman directing, and Michael Kidd providing choreography. Once they had a story to work from, the
arduous process of casting began. There
were several theatrical veterans in the ranks of the cast, including former
vaudeville stars Netta Packer and Pat Rooney, Jr. commandeering the roles of
General Matilda B. Cartwright and Brother Arvide Abernathy, respectively
(Garebian 90). But it was the leads and
the supporting cast that really took hold of the production; the triumvirate of
Stubby Kaye as Nicely, B.S. Pully as Big Jule, and Johnny Silver as Benny
Southstreet fulfilled the production’s wise-guy quota. They made their characters much larger than
life, and really tried to bring the Runyon experience to the stage. It is no wonder that besides Vivian Blaine,
these three were the only cast members to reprise their roles in the film
version.
The leads were a force to be
reckoned with as well. Robert Alda,
father of M*A*S*H star Alan Alda,
took the romantic lead of Sky Masterson while his mission doll, Sarah Brown,
was played by Isabel Bigley. The seminal
part of Miss Adelaide was Vivian Blaine’s from the moment she was spotted by
the producers:
Vivian Blaine was spotted by Feur and
Martin…Fluffy-haired and blonde at the time, she was jouncing along on shapely
leg, and although she was loaded down with packages, she looked cute…The
actress turned her blue eyes to them and said how nice it was to see them
again. Feur and Martin had disappointed
her in Hollywood when she auditioned for the part of Sarah Brown. They had told her she was too strong in voice
and appearance for the prim ingénue. Now
she amiably put that out of her mind as she chatted politely with them…Then
Martin said to her: “You know, you’d be wonderful as a honkytonk stripper.” “I
beg your pardon?” “I mean, how’d you like to play the comedienne, Miss
Adelaide?” “I’ll try anything once” (Garebian 94).
She
joined Sam Levene as Nathan Detroit.
Sadly, though Levene was the ideal choice to play the charming Nathan,
he could not sing a note to save his soul.
Loesser had written several solos and duets between Detroit and other
characters. They now all had to be cut,
much to the consternation of Levene.
Instead, he was left with “Sue Me”, the fourth to last song of the
show. With this, Levene could easily
speak the song and leave the singing to Blaine.
The show played its previews in
Philadelphia, and the theatre gods were watching down on the production. Scared of how the audience would react, he
sat there a bundle of nerves. They
seemed to love “Runyonland” and the opening ballet, but, as Keith Garebian
explains:
He didn’t have to worry long, for the three
horseplayers, Nicely-Nicely, Benny Southstreet, and Rusty Charlie, strolled to
center stage with their racing forms, a solo trumpet in the orchestra plays the
First Call heard before a big race. The
audience shook with the laughter of “instant recognition,” and Burrows realized
that they weren’t simply laughing at a joke-line but at the characters, milieu,
and situation. At the final curtain, the
audience went mad, shouting and screaming its approval. Turning to his wife, Burrows kissed her on
the cheek and said: “We’re home” (114).
By
the time the show reached the Great White Way, the critics had heard the hubbub
from Philadelphia, and were waiting with baited breath. Thankfully, the show did not disappoint. Every review was a rave, and almost every
critic agreed that the cast was the greatest asset to the performance (Garebian
123). The show ran for 1,200
performances, and went on to win 8 Tony Awards, including Best Actor (for
Robert Alda), Supporting Actress (for Isabel Bigley), Director, Producers,
Book, Composer and Lyricist, Choreographer, and Best Musical (Garebian 124).
Guys and Dolls would eventually open in
England, with several members of the original cast: reprising their roles were
Vivian Blaine, Sam Levene, Stubby Kaye, Johnny Silver, and Tom Pedi as Harry
the Horse. Audiences over there loved
it, clamored for more. Even when Blaine
was booed on opening night, the entire audience turned on the small section
that protested. There would be several
West End revivals over the next several decades. The casts were always superb, and included
such celebrities as Imelda Staunton (Adelaide), Bob Hoskins (Nathan), Ewan
Macgregor (Sky), and Jane Krakowski (Adelaide).
Film
Similar
to many other musicals of the time period, a film version was destined to
follow at some point. However, there
were a number of problems that plagued the casting and filming process. First and foremost was the casting of smooth
Frank Sinatra as not-so-smooth Nathan Detroit.
Casting Sinatra meant that there needed to be changes to a lot of the
music: songs that Nathan was never a part of were now predominantly his solos,
including the title song, which was only Benny and Nicely on stage. Frank Loesser repeatedly got in fights with
Sinatra over the proper way to sing the songs; sadly, Sinatra never budged, and
he would later regret being involved with the film (Garebian 128). The other
casting issue was Marlon Brando as Sky Masterson. Now, from an acting standpoint, Brando can
easily pull off the smooth, roguish charm that was required. However, like Sam Levene, Brando could not
sing a note to save his life. When it
came time to record his songs, they did multiple takes in the studio, and they
later edited them all together, stringing the correct notes together whenever
they occurred (Garebian 130). The film made a considerable amount of money, but
there were far too many changes made to the script and tone of the show. It seemed to lose a massive chunk of its
humor.
1976
Motown Revival
The
1976 revival was the first big departure from the way the show had been done
originally. Though under the supervision
and guidance of Abe Burrows, the entire show was performed by an African
American cast, and the show worked remarkably well. There were several changes made to the tone
of the songs – “I’ve Never Been in Love Before” and “I’ll Know” were
considerably altered to more jazzy orchestrations while “Sit Down, You’re Rocking
the Boat” was definitely a revivalist number now – and several lines were
altered to reflect a more urban and less Jewish sensibility: in “I’ll Know”,
Sky’s line before Sarah sings the chorus has been changed to “…You have wished
yourself a real dumb character. A square
thinking, pencil pushing type” (Cast Recording 3). The changes were necessary to make the
changes in ethnicity truly fit; this was not a color-blind casting
situation. The goal of the piece was to
see if it would truly work without a white cast. And did it ever:
Putting aside the flaws of flimsy sets and sparse
choreography, Gussow noted the “black” assets: the funkiness of Ernestine
Jackson’s rendition of “If I Were a Bell;” the Duke Ellington accents in James
Randolph’s version of “My Time of Day;” Robert Guillaume’s “deadpan and
offhanded” Nathan, “somewhat in the manner of Billy Cosby;” and Ken Page’s
Nicely-Nicely that turned “Sit Down” into a hand-clapping, tambourine-slapping
gospel song, “a soul-stopper (two deserved encores on opening night) that
almost obliterates the memory of the seemingly unforgettable Stubby Kaye in the
original 1950 Broadway production” (Garebian 133).
Yes, there were changes made, but
they never really distracted the audience away from the material. It also was a blessing to have Abe Burrow at
the helm, making sure the changes were still faithful to his original script.
1992
Revival
When
it was announced that there was going to be another revival of Guys and Dolls, many worried as to how
the show would fare. The original
production and film were very consistent on how the material should be treated,
and it was far too soon to do another production like the 1976 revival. Director Jerry Zaks had his own work cut out
for him. Like the original production,
he established a top-notch cast to play this amazing show.
Peter Gallagher claimed the role of
Sky Masterson, and though a bit younger than Sky should be, he lent a suaveness
and sultriness that was missing from Alda.
It came to be very apparent why Sarah would fall for such a
gambler. As his sparring partner, Josie
de Guzman was Sarah Brown. Though she
was not the original choice, after a difficult time with their leading lady,
Zaks moved de Guzman up from the ensemble, and she had the spark that Sarah
needed to go head-to-head with Sky.
Though Nathan and Adelaide are the
secondary romantic couple, you would not have thought that after seeing the
revival. Nathan Lane has become the
perfect Detroit; most productions have their Nathan attempt to emulate what he
does based on the recording and clips of the performance. He was a Nathan that could actually sing:
“and in the ‘Sue Me’ number, usually done as a throwaway, he and his director
found something dramatic. Lane revealed
a Nathan sincerely struggling to convince Adelaide that he loved her, and his
modulations into tenderness and affection were heartwarming” (Garebian
141). In addition, Faith Prince gave new
life to Adelaide. She was not afraid to
be sensual and hilarious at the same time.
The entire production looked as
though it were a Technicolor cartoon.
This was not your mother’s Guys
and Dolls. There was still a strong
sense of realism, but the entire design was a stylized version of New York, and
it was a wonderful way of reinventing the show for a whole new generation.
2009
Revival (Des McAnuff)
Broadway
had another brand new revival of Guys and
Dolls just a few short years ago.
Like the 1992 Jerry Zaks production, they sought to take a new look at
the material. Sadly, the show floundered
under the weight of the changes.
Though Runyon’s stories were written
in the 1930s, the show always took place circa the year of the first
production: 1950. In the new production,
Director Des McAnuff made the decision to go back to the 1930s; gone were the
bright Technicolor suits and colorful scenery.
Instead, audiences were treated to a realistic and somewhat serious
musical comedy. I believe the show can
be done this way, but it needed a cast that could still treat Burrows and
Runyon’s world with respect. That was
not the case.
In the role of Nathan Detroit,
McAnuff cast Oliver Platt. This was
certainly not McAnuff’s best decision.
Critic Ben Brantley summed it up in his review of the show: “…Mr. Platt
never finds a sustained pattern of idiosyncrasies that would let him connect
with Nathan (and the audience). His
singing voice is agreeable, small but smooth, but it does not define a
character. His hands often glued to the
sides of his jacket, he has the stricken, nauseated expression of someone
terrified of being fingered as an imposter” (New York Times). His Adelaide, as
played by Lauren Graham of televisions “Gilmore Girls”, did not fare much
better. According to several reviewers,
there was no depth to her character. She
stuck herself in the guise of a dumb blonde showgirl, and that goes against
what Adelaide stands for.
The only characters that seemed to
do well were Sky, Sarah, and Nicely. As
Sky and Sarah, Craig Bierko and Kate Jennings Grant displayed a remarkable chemistry,
and were pleasant enough in their singing.
The showstopper was Titus Burgess as Nicely-Nicely Johnson. Contrary to Walter Bobbie in the Zaks
revival, Titus was padded to make him as big as a house: just the way Nicely is
depicted in Runyon’s stories. It also
did not hurt that Titus has an amazingly powerful voice, and “Sit Down” was
re-orchestrated as a massive gospel number.
Sadly, the show did not last too long after the Tony Awards, closing
after 121 performances (Ibdb.com 4).
No comments:
Post a Comment