It's Enough to Make a Fellow Fall in Love

Here's a press shot of Patricia Routledge in her Tony-winning performance as Alice Challice in the failed Jule Styne-Yip Harburg musical Darling of the Day. The show lasted 31 performances at the George Abbott Theater (now the site of the Michelangelo Hotel) in 1968. In spite of the musical's fast failure (which lost an astronomical $750,000), there are many merits within the show and score; friends and fellow bloggers know that I have long championed a revival.

Alice Challice is something of an unsung heroine of the musical theatre. She's warm, vibrant, vivacious and pragmatic - a young widow living quietly in Putney who refuses to conform to the loneliness of widowhood. Endeavoring to get married, she uses a marriage broker to establish a correspondence with a nobleman artist's valet. The role calls for a sensible, yet fun-loving comic soprano, "youngish," whose material runs the gamut from tender ballads to raucous music hall numbers. There aren't too many theatre fans familiar with Alice, but if they were it's likely they would fall madly in love with her.

The show, which was a troubled vehicle for Vincent Price (!), failed rather miserably. It was based on Arnold Bennett's comic novel Buried Alive about a shy British artist (Price) who switches identities with his dead valet "get out of the world alive" In doing so, he also takes up the deceased's association with the Widow Challice, with whom he falls in love. An expectedly convoluted farce ensues where he paints under his pseudonym and is found out by snobbish art dealers, when all hell breaks loose.

Out of town reception was rather bleak, with critical pans in Toronto and Boston (in the latter city, Peter Filichia said it was one of the worst musicals he had ever seen, but much improved when he saw it in NY). There was a lack of steady direction, with four directors, two choreographers and five bookwriters. (Nunnally Johnson removed his name prior to opening night leaving the libretto without a credit). In spite of all this trouble the musical actually received a surprising amount of positive reviews. The only full-out pan was the estimable New York Times. Clive Barnes opted out of reviewing the show for the paper and it went to second stringer Dan Sullivan instead, who filed his wholly negative assessment. Barnes himself actually visited the show shortly thereafter and looked on it favorably. The Times also had Walter Kerr in the show's corner, offering his Sunday column as a valentine to her many abilities. Kerr gave the leading lady one of my favorite pull-quotes of all time: "If you don't catch her act now, you'll someday want to kill yourself." (He immediately added "I'll help you.")

Lying in the rubble of the show was Routledge's Tony win (an award she shared with Leslie Uggams of Hallelujah, Baby!) is the show's original cast album, which is a charming delight and showcases two major assets - Routledge and the elegant and vibrant score by Styne and Harburg (Styne considered this his "Lerner & Loewe" score and his second favorite of his own musicals behind Gypsy). The show has been rather well-received recently in a couple of engagements at Mufti, which saw revisions made to the book and score in an attempt to refurbish the vehicle. Those revisions were supervised by Erik Haagensen, playwright and Backstage critic, who also made an attempt to fix Routledge's other failed Broadway musical, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in the early 1990s.

There was a shoddy live recording made of the show's opening night performance which plays like a raucous hit. The audience lapped up the stars, doling out entrance applause for the two above the title, as well as character actress Brenda Forbes. The most vociferous reactions were reserved for Routledge, who stopped the show with her first number "It's Enough to Make a Lady Fall in Love, as well as her reflective "That Something Extra Special" towards the end of the first act. The actress all but reduced the theatre to rubble with her eleven o'clock number "Not on Your Nellie." During her ovation for the latter (which lasted a full minute), she can be heard very faintly asking incredulously "Is this all for me?" then after a beat pleading the audience "Ladies and gentlemen, if you please." The audience took this as a cue to give one more cheer before allowing the company to the continue.

As I sit here writing, I realize that the musical opened on this day forty-two years ago. It's a show that isn't licensed for stock/amateur performances and has had very few revivals, the RCA cast album has been out of print for many years, but has resurfaced recently via ArkivMusic. The show remains off the beaten path, a lost gem that has brought me a great deal of joy.

Should Encores! (as I want to hear those vibrant orchestrations from Ralph Burns) take up the show, there is only one person in my estimation who should play Alice Challice (and I have Ken Mandelbaum's agreement on this front) and that is Victoria Clark. What strikes me the most about this particular press shot is the uncanny resemblance between Clark and Routledge, as they share a similar voice type, sensibility and the honor of the Best Actress in a Musical Tony. By extension, I think David Hyde Pierce is ideal for the artist. Then I'd toss in Gavin Lee for the music hall numbers, and Edward Hibbert and Judy Kaye as the noblesse-oblige for good measure.

Darling of the Day is a gem just aching for rediscovery.

The Great American Musical Turns 50

Next month marks the 50th anniversary of what Walter Kerr called "The best damn musical I've seen in years." The musical, based on the memoirs of that memorable ecdysiast Gypsy Rose Lee, opened at the Broadway Theatre on May 21, 1959 (after a mere two previews) to great reviews and a memorable star turn from the irrepressible Ethel Merman. Arthur Laurents, in what would be prove to be his last credible success as a musical theatre librettist, contributed arguably the finest book in American musical history. Stephen Sondheim wrote the lyrics, and at the insistence of Ms. Merman, Jule Styne wrote the music. Jerome Robbins directed and choreographed. The show, which opened in New York just following the 1958-59 cut-off, would be trounced in the 1959-60 season by The Sound of Music and Fiorello! in what is so far the one and only Best Musical tie in Tony history. Merman famously lost the Tony to Mary Martin, headlining the more crowdpleasing Sound of Music, with the infamous quip from Ethel: "You can't buck a nun." The musical play ran 702 performances in NY before Ethel Merman went out on national tour. This original cast album is a must-have for any musical theater lover. There are a lot of people who insist that Merman's performance is subpar (many of whom didn't actually see it, but I digress); however she delivers an electrifying performance on the album. She is ably supported by Sandra Church, Jack Klugman and Maria Karnilova as Tessie Tura. With all due respect to all other recordings that have come along, I don't think the orchestrations by Robert Ginzler and Sid Ramin have ever sounded better than they do here. (Though let it be said, all recordings of Gypsy are required listening). Also, it's only right to mention Dick Perry, a favorite of Jule Styne's, who rocks out the improv section on the overture like none other. Perry also played on the original cast albums of Subways Are for Sleeping and Funny Girl, serving as soloist for "Cornet Man" and even receiving billing for it. His credits include several other big 60s musicals, as well as trumpet player in the original "Tonight Show" band.

I currently own the 1999 Sony release that cleaned up the album and restored part of "You Gotta Get a Gimmick." The album included previously unreleased demos of songs from the score, including some cut numbers, an early version of "Some People" and a combination of "Mr. Goldstone" and a tender "Little Lamb" sung by Ethel. On May 5, the original cast album will be re-released yet again by Sony Masterworks in a new 50th anniversary edition. This new release includes all material on the 40th anniversary release, but will also include an audio clip of Michael Feinstein interviewing Jule Styne, as well as a track on which Gypsy Rose Lee herself looks back on burlesque. Yes, I'm seriously considering the upgrade. Also, Masterworks is planning a similar 50th anniversary release of The Sound of Music this fall.

The Curtain Comes Down on the Great American Musical

When Patti LuPone wasn't busy eviscerating the hoodlum taking her photograph (which may have actually been someone doing a piece on her), she was closing out her Broadway run as Rose in the latest incarnation of Gypsy.

The show, which closed Sunday after 27 previews and 332 performances, was the end of the road for an event which by all accounts should never have happened. Librettist Arthur Laurents was never to let Patti LuPone near any of his work in a major revival. Bernadette Peters scored a personal triumph (naysayers be damned, she was nothing short of fantastic) as Rose in a 2003 revival that closed after 13 months and a financial loss. I recall just prior to that production posting its closing notice the people on the webboards speaking of the impossibility of Patti LuPone replacing Bernadette.

Five years ago, that was wishful thinking. We would never see her star in a revival. Then in 2006, Ravinia announced Lonny Price would direct Patti (an annual staple at the Chicago festival herself) "in the role she was born to play." People (not me, that was the summer of the 'hard times') flew out to see the icon in one of the most iconic of musical theatre roles. And that was that. Given the financial risk of mounting a commercial revival, especially since it was only a few years since the recent Broadway mounting, it was highly unlikely that we would see the show in NY. Then the City Center came along. A three week run, with Arthur and Patti making nice after years of feuding, played a summer run at the City Center. Boyd Gaines and Laura Benanti joined the cast, now under the direction of Laurents. Nancy Opel, Marilyn Caskey and Alison Fraser would take on the choice extended cameo as the trio of strippers in the second act. The show opened to positive reviews, some hesistancy on the part of the NY Times which didn't stop the show from becoming one of the must-see events of 2007. And that was that. Rumors swirled of a Broadway transfer, but it was once again dismissed. "Too soon." "They'd be crazy." Et, al.

March 27, 2008. The St. James Theatre. There is a red carpet. The crowd is electric. Stars are out, including another legendary Tony-winning Rose, Miss Angela Lansbury. Patti LuPone opens to unanimous raves (which included Benjamin Brantley of the NY Times eating his words, and his "hat"). The show is a critical success on the strength of its acting. I was there. The critics were not wrong.

June 15, 2008. The Tony Awards. Laura Benanti wins. Boyd Gaines wins. The first actress and actor to ever win the Tony award for playing the roles of Gypsy and Herbie. Then Best Actress in a Musical: Patti LuPone. "Shut up, it's been twenty-nine years!" I was not there, but in Sarah's living room where we as an enclave cheered like lunatics and even took pictures of the the paused TV screen.

June 17, 2008. "Sing out, Louise!" The entire audience at the St. James Theatre stands in an ovation for the freshly won Tony. Still riveting. Winners all regardless of whether or not they possessed a statuette.

January 11, 2009. Curtain down. The revival closes. This is where my latest odyssey into the city begins. Originally, we were anticipating the March 1 close, marking the end of LuPone's one year contract. However, given the nature of the economy, the producers decided to pull the plug two months early. So then it came down to who wanted to go and when. So many of the bloggerati were making one final pilgrimage to the St. James Theatre to see this legendary performance. There were all my friends going to the second to last performance on Saturday evening; so it was decided that it was perfect timing for yet another blogger's brunch, this time at Thalias on 50th and 8th. Roxie and I, as well as Kari, were going to the final matinee, but we had our first-hand witnesses Steve, Doug, Sarah, Chelsea and Leah to tell us all about the Penultimate Patti incident, which goes down into theatrical lore as the night LuPone had enough. For those who aren't aware, a photographer out in the orchestra was given a tongue-lashing he or she will never forget by Ms LuPone. She continued after the perpetrator had been removed much to the unending delight of the crowd (akin to that bizarre fear-driven euphoria that comes after traumas like narrowly escaping death, or in this case being taken by the human boa constrictor that is Patti LuPone at her most terrifying).

It must be said, I always have a good time whenever this group gets together. The talk is always good, we have many fun items to share with one another and the rapport is always spot-on. The moon's full, the gin's in the bathtub and... wait, that's Mame. From theatre to decapitated chickens on the highway, we run the gamut from class to crass and are damned proud of it! After an aperitif at the Marriot, it was showtime. We were going out separate ways - none of the Penultimate Patti crew was having an encore that afternoon, so we headed to the St. James for the fun to start. Here is a run-down of the highlights from the afternoon's events:

- A closing night crowd has a palpable energy that is hard to top. Fans are back in droves and you can practically see it.
- Mo Rocca and Arthur Laurents are in the house. Thus endeth the celebrity sightings.
- There's the house announcement. He has to wait because the audience is screaming too loudly. Heh, the actors can see you taking photographs. Talk about a colossal understatement.
- The overture. Always a good time, every time. The audience can barely contain itself. It feels like we are at a rather raucous wedding. We are all in our pews sitting politely waiting for the entrance of the bride, occasionally glancing over our shoulders to get a look at her.
- We rise on the bride's entrance.
- Patti LuPone freezes holding Louise's chin, as I've seen her do before. She briefly acknowledges the applause in order to continue with the show.
- Lengthy applause on the entrances of Boyd Gaines and Laura Benanti.
- The show carries on. There is intense audience reaction. If Laurents' hadn't put in so many blackouts on musical buttons, we'd be standing a lot more.
- There has been talk of the three leads fooling around and adding shtick to their performances. Contrary to this, we find the performance considerably tight. They are very organic in their acting; the chemistry is unbeatable.
- Benanti still wows. Her performance is the one for the ages. There will be other turns as Rose by many actresses, but it is unlikely I shall ever see a Louise this spectacular in my lifetime. The glamorous Benanti effectively inhabits the awkward adolescence of Louise, rounding the character in remarkable ways. She bursts into tears after delivering a final, affecting "Little Lamb." (Unlike everyone else in Christendom, I have always liked the song. *shrugs*).
- Lenora Nemetz gets a hand on her entrance as Miss Cratchitt. Hilarity ensues.
- Leigh Ann Larkin is a bit too broad as Dainty June, which makes the "WHY NOT, DAINTY JUNE?!" gentleman even broader. His line gets applause today. (*shrugs*)
- Lenora gets applause on her little exit dance as she's chased off during "Broadway, Broadway"
- We might as well add Tony Yazbeck's Tulsa to the list of superlative performances. He brings great honesty and heart to his brief scene leading into "All I Need is the Girl." He also understands that the song is there as a showcase for him, but knows its dramatic function to let the audience know that Louise wants to be the Girl. Stunning in every way. Yazbeck, after Gypsy and On the Town at Encores! is poised for musical theatre stardom.
- The train depot. The most intense scene in act one. Brilliantly executed as always, we head to the doom that is "Everything's Coming Up Roses." One of the best act one finales in existence.
- Two ladies to our right are seeing this musical for the first time ever. The mother knows it from catching the Rosalind Russell movie (anyone? you know the one where Louise runs off with Yonkers instead of Tulsa, innocuously ruining Louise's dramatic arc at that moment). They are stunned by intermission. I tell them "You ain't seen nothin' yet."
- We're back in the theatre, they're back on the stage. Patti gets emotional during "Together Wherever We Go." Then she accidentally tosses her pan off into the wings, which brings about smiles and laughs all around, onstage and off. The pan is kicked back out for her to collect. The tempo is brisk. Three Tony winners are off and running with the charming trio, arguably the highpoint of the character's relationships all evening. The number stops the show cold.
- There's that ominous burlesque vamp from the overture. We are at 'the Bottom" aka Wichita's World-Famous Burlesque. Applause on Marilyn Caskey's entrance as Electra. A second hand for Nemetz's appearance as Mazeppa; and of course for Alison Fraser's Tessie Tura.
- Benanti is a thrill to watch as the most human Louise this side of 8th Avenue. Moments to love, her reaction to Rose's latest "I had a dream last night." So many subtle moments to be cherished in her nuanced portrayal.
- "You Gotta Get a Gimmick." Arthur Laurents said it best when he told Sam Mendes that Saddam Hussein and his two sons could get a hand with it. He was not wrong. Show once again stopped.
- The first dressing room scene. This is where it starts to end in tears. Those who applauded the marriage proposal in the scene before sparked incredulity from us. Really, people? Most of you know where this is heading... and it's not pleasant.
- It's not pleasant. Mother sells out daughter for stardom. Cue Herbie's ulcer. Cue audience's contempt.
- Dynamite devastation from Gaines on standing up to Rose. His exit line prompts applause.
- "Momma, I'm pretty... I'm a pretty girl, momma!" Damn right, you are! One of the most beautiful moments in all musical theatre, leading directly into...
- "The Strip." If there's any real argument for why this production should have been taped, it was for Benanti's transformation from Louise Hovick to Gypsy Rose Lee over the course of the number. Mixing nerves, anxiety and disgust, she socks out "Let Me Entertain You." She realizes for the first time that she is center stage, and she has an audience in the palm of her hand. Watching the confidence grow in each segment till she is a bonafide superstar for Minsky is riveting.
- Laura Benanti stops the show dead with the line "Where were you last night...?" You can all figure out why...
- The second dressing room sequence. The tension is high, the mounting conflict between mother and daughter coming to head with this superbly crafted fight. The animosity is seething from both ends. A monologue of defiance that trumps all. "I am Gypsy Rose Lee." Interesting acting moment: the maid re enters to tell Gypsy that her publicist is there and Benanti yells the line at her. When the maid has closed the door, there was a moment where Benanti brought back Louise as she looks at the door, amidst her tears and quiet mouths to her now-absent maid "I'm sorry..." That's an actress.
- The moment the crowd has been waiting for. "I thought you did it for me, Mama." Cue breakdown. The crowd is hushed. With expected tension we wait for it. And it comes...
- "Here she is boys. Here she is world." Patti LuPone takes it someplace in the recesses of Rose's mind I've never seen before. She whispers those lines, striking fear into the audience's mind. She proceeds with an earth-shattering Turn. She clearly and frightfully throws off Rose's smock revealing the tattered edges of what once was her character's sanity. That last for me is the war cry of one who has reached the end of her rope.
- A Routledge of five minutes ensues. The crowd is on its, feet and is beyond ecstatic. LuPone continues to bow in her swirling vortex of doom. A single rose is tossed onto the stage. As the ovation starts to die down, audience members start shouting "We love you Patti" to the stage. LuPone smiles and tries to bring them back in. However, upon hearing someone shout "Patti for President," she gives that boa constrictor look to let us know she's about to lose it. Thankfully the last scene is allowed to continue. In the moment just prior to her breakdown, she picks up one of the roses, kisses it and puts it back down before the scene continues.
- The show ends. The crowd is on fire. Full house on its feet. Bows. Tears. Patti LuPone takes her solo bow. In what feels like a return to the old school, the first row is tossing countless roses onstage. while she bows. For the company bow, Patti LuPone personally hands out a rose to every single actor she can. In spite of her legendary divatude onstage, she is still a member of an ensemble - a respect you can see in the way she interacts with every single person onstage. When the cast turns upstage to the orchestra, they begin to throw the flowers at them. The conductor poses with a rose between his teeth.
- Patti brings out Arthur Laurents and Stephen Sondheim for a bow. Roxie has a near-stroke when she realizes she's in the same space as SJS for the first time ever. Patti makes a brief curtain speech aknowledging Jule Styne and Jerome Robbins. Tears, hugs, the usual are shared. Patti shows genuine affection for every single person in the cast, particularly among the child actors.
- The ladies to our right are smiling broadly. The mother is vocally grateful about the opportunity to have seen the show. The daughter is quietly wiping away a few years. Perfection.
- Gypsy is over.

Afterwards, Roxie and I headed to Angus for our post-show dinner and obligatory drink. We were seated immediately, and as Rose standby Linda Balgord sweeps past us into the upper level it dawns on us that the cast is coming here for their post-show festivities. We have order our food, we discuss 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue as more and more cast members file into the restaurant. After getting over initial fears that we were in Deadwood, Roxie warms to the surroundings and begins announcing everyone as they enter. Much to our surprise, Marilyn Caskey sits at a table adjacent to us. Fortunately we are in Angus, so not much is said when I get up in the course of our 1600 conversation singing "Rehearse!" to illustrate a point.

We introduced ourselves to Ms. Caskey before leaving, just to let her know how much we enjoyed her performance as Electra. She is not only talented, but quite lovely. I brought up the long-forgotten, one performance wonder The Utter Glory of Morrissey Hall in which she had a major role. She said I was the first person to ever ask her about it and she was so pleased to chat about her experiences. She talked with great affection for the show, which is about a British boarding school headmistress slowly driven to insanity by the antics of her students. The musical opened and closed at my beloved Mark Hellinger in 1979, starring Celeste Holm (who judging by the cast album - yes, there is one - shows that she is miscast). Three years prior, Caskey performed in the piece, written by Clark Gesner in a California production that starred Jill Tanner, who brought the British sensibility required for the part (the part calls for a Patricia Routledge type). Ms. Caskey, and you wouldn't know this from Gypsy, is a lyric coloratura who has essayed the roles of Cunegonde in Candide and Carlotta in the Broadway and Toronto companies of The Phantom of the Opera, with plenty of voice and class to spare. One of the real highlights of this entire evening was having the chance to spend a few moments with this lovely and warm character actress. I hope to seeing her onstage again very soon.

The day was long, eventful and highly memorable. It mirrored the first time I saw Gypsy on Broadway, which was the closing performance of the Bernadette Peters revival in 2004. It was a bit surreal to have done two closings of the same show in less than five years. The audiences react with the same ferocity at the book scenes, the songs and the overall ambience that comes with this classic musical. My only hope for the next revival, which we can pretty much guess will be longer than five years away, is that it restores the complete libretto, still my only official gripe with this most recent incarnation. It's always an event when the Great American Musical comes to town.

Other than that, it's time to move on and look forward to the new musicals and revivals (and plays!) of this season. And I say it here: one of the non-profits should stage a revival of The Rose Tattoo for Ms. LuPone.

"The Ecdysiast Play"

Oh you know the one I mean. Where crazed patrons choke one another. Where vents fall from the ceiling and light bulbs explode. Oh, and curtains come down on Laura Benanti. Yes. It's the latest revival of Gypsy. It's a little strange for me since its the first time I've seen a second production of a show on Broadway (especially in so short a lapse between). Bernadette Peters. Remember her? Well, anyway, Gypsy is welcome back on the Rialto anytime, as far as I'm concerned. And tonight was one of those electric nights where everything aligned for that certain 5'2" bundle of dynamite, Ms. Patti LuPone in what early ads were referring to "the role she was born to play." They were not wrong.

Patti came.
Patti saw.
Patti conquered.

Taking the early mold of her previous experiences with the musical, both at the Ravinia Festival in '06 (the start of the journey that culminates in her opening last night) and the City Center presentation last summer, LuPone has refined her character with the precision of a diamond cutter. Rose is a determined mother of two very lovely young girls that she thrusts into the throes of show business in an effort to assuage her own unfulfilled ambitions. It just screams musical comedy, no? Well, anyway. It's genius. The score. The orchestrations (and that overture. yowza!) The book. It's almost fool-proof (so why did you tamper with it, Mr. Laurents?) You follow through Rose, the character as she goes from unmitigated determination ("Some People") through desperation when she uses Louise in an effort to mask her emotional scarring and fear of failure ("Everything's Coming Up Roses") through her eventual breakdown when confronted with the reality that both show business and daughters have passed her by (her defeat: "Rose's Turn"). Might I add, Patti's diction was almost too perfect (not a problem, just an observation) and her vocals were the best I've ever heard live. Just for the record.

From Mr. Brantley, who was decidedly mixed this summer:

"When Ms. LuPone delivers “Rose’s Turn,” she’s building a bridge for an audience to walk right into one woman’s nervous breakdown. There is no separation at all between song and character, which is what happens in those uncommon moments when musicals reach upward to achieve their ideal reasons to be. This Gypsy spends much of its time in such intoxicating air."

Nuance, chemistry and impressively layered acting abounds. From Patti. From Laura. From Boyd. From Leigh Ann. From Nemora. From Alison. From Tony. All of whom are superlative in their roles. (For my money, Laura, Boyd and Tony are definitive in theirs). As for the ending, I'm not really sure what I think. I guess if you tamper with what has been for years, you're bound to notice. But on the flipside, the staging of the new ending is a bit more naturalistic and honed into the unresolved rift between mother and daughters. It's not really going to make or break the experience. That happened five minutes before.

Did I mention, it was opening night? Yep. Noah and I sat in the balcony behind a deluded crone and her rude mother. One insisted on leaning forward the entire show and the other chimed in with an extensive crinkling of a candy wrapper, for literally the entire show; except when she leaned forward. That group clearly had no idea what was going on and looked out of water when the crowd continually went to pieces, especially the overwhelming standing ovation received at the end of the "Turn." Thankfully it didn't detract too much from the overall experience. Kari and Sarah were also among the first nighters reveling in what was a thrilling experience. Post show, we had dinner at Angus McIndoe's. As Kari and I sat waiting like wallflowers for Noah and Sarah while they kibbitzed, I spotted none other than Mr. Stephen Sondheim at the bar. Kari and I immediately made our way over; not to speak with him make no mistake, but to sit near at the bar like the total theatre geeks we became in about, oh I don't know, 3 seconds. (Kari surreptitiously snapped a photo with her iphone - and no one was the wiser. And she was literally trembling from her proximity to musical theatre's living deity). Dinner was fantastic. The booze was fantastic - and I drank almost half a bottle of water - not a Poland Spring or Fiji, no I guzzled one the size of a large merlot bottle - as we made our way out. Pity it wasn't vodka or gin. I might have had another act to my evening.

Those sighted: Angela Lansbury, Mandy Patinkin, Laura Linney (flawless with little to no makeup), Martha Plimpton, Corky from Life Goes On, Thomas Meehan, John Weidman. Others I probably had no clue were in the house. They even had a red carpet and an official opening night sticker on the playbill.

Oh, and after her curtain call, Patti LuPone lay fully prostrate onstage to her cast. It was that kind of event. Stephen Sondheim and Arthur Laurents got their props. And Sondheim gave a shout out to the late Jule Styne. (Class act). Though it appears Laurents gave Patti notes as they exited the stage...

Hey guys. Gypsy is back on Broadway. What the hell are you doing reading my blog? GET TICKETS AND GO NOW!!!!

On this day in 1968...

Darling of the Day opened at the George Abbott Theatre in New York City. The musical by Jule Styne and Yip Harburg was based on the Arnold Bennett novel Buried Alive, a decidedly Anglophilic romp in which a nobleman artist assumes the identity of his deceased manservant "to get out of the world alive." In doing so, he also takes up the deceased's correspondence with a widow from Putney, named Alice Challice. Anyway, a convoluted farce ensues where he paints under his pseudonym and is found out by snobbish art dealers. This leads to a courtroom climax that brings about a conclusion with a decidedly Gilbert & Sullivan-esque flair.

The show's creative process was less than happy. The show went through various directors (4), choreographers (2) and book writers (5), with the show opening in NY without a credited librettist (a death knell for a musical; Nunnally Johnson insisted his name be taken off the show). The revolving door also included Peter Wood, S.N. Behrman, Albert Marre, Stephen Vinaver (who was hired and fired twice) and Peter Gennaro among others. In spite of the mess created by such a tumultuous tryout period, the show managed to allow my effervescent Patricia Routledge to shine in the role of the spirited widow. The cast album is a marvel for the strength of Styne's music and the cleverness of Harburg's lyrics, with Routledge getting the best of the material. Every one of her numbers in the show is worth hearing: "It's Enough to Make a Lady Fall in Love," "A Gentleman's Gentleman," the devastatingly beautiful waltz "Let's See What Happens," a lost gem of a ballad "That Extra Something Special," and her rousing piece d'resistance, her eleven o'clocker "Not on Your Nellie." Routledge stole the show from the miscast non-singing Vincent Price, winning the show's general acclaim. The show couldn't withstand the initial critical drubbing it received and shuttered after 32 performances. The show would (fortunately for all) record a cast album; Routledge would win the Tony award for Best Actress in a Musical, tying with Leslie Uggams who appeared in Jule Styne's hit-flop/flop-hit Hallelujah, Baby! (Talk about book trouble).

As per Walter Kerr: [Routledge gives] "the most spectacular, most scrumptious, most embraceable musical comedy debut since Beatrice Lillie and Gertrude Lawrence came to this country … I understand there are some insane people going around this town saying that they didn't care all that much for Darling of the Day. I'd stay away from them if I were you. I warn you: if you don't catch her act now, you'll someday want to kill yourself."

Talk about a notice.

The original cast album is now woefully out of print, though it was issued on CD by RCA Victor in the late 1990s. There are copies available used on amazon and also through arkivmusic.com (it appears on CD-R with reproductions of the original artwork and liner notes). The show plays on record as a hit, as many flops scores do. (I forgot to mention that Ralph Burns was the orchestrator). There is also a rare recording of the opening night performance, muddied and poor quality, but you'd never believe the show was a disaster from the way Routledge stole it. (Her ovation for "Not on Your Nellie" went on so long, she had to plead with the audience to let the show continue).

And now, my new favorite flop is 40 years old. It's not often revived; though there were recent attempts at revisions, including the version presented at Musicals in Mufti a few year's back (featuring Rebecca Luker). If we're lucky, Encores! will present this delightful obscurity as part of their series starring Victoria Clark as Alice.

Of course, an ideal season would also include the long forgotten A Time for Singing and Donnybrook! (How about it, Encores?)