The train of free tickets to Broadway shows continues… and despite my complete distaste for musicals, I was truly awestruck by the production of Memphis, playing now until July at the Schubert Theater.
Now, you might wonder why a plot that sounds suspiciously like that of Hairspray should be given a second thought. Â And, while yes, there are some narrative parallels to Hairspray (mind you, my acquaintance is most with the Travolta version of the movie), this puts Hairspray to shame.
Admittedly, the second half dragged a bit – several characters were in need of a moment in the spotlight, so they wouldn’t just be exceedingly talented window-dressing – but several of the numbers really could have been trimmed down. Â But if you don’t stay until the fat man dances, than you really are missing out. Â The music really is engaging… it’s bluesy rock, not ham-handed Webber fare. Â Moreover, the story itself is not saccharine; while it would be quite a reach to describe it as realistic, it doesn’t leave this particular post-ironic Brooklynite puckered in disgust.
Two days prior also saw us attend a showing of Mamet’s Oleanna, starring Bill Pullman and Julia Stiles.  Now, I have immense respect for Pullman, and a lingering crush on Stiles, but the production was flawed.  In particular, Pullman and Stiles never seemed to be really talking to each other, even if they did a swell job of delivering their monologues.  For having shown first in San Francisco and then in Los Angeles, I can’t say that, given more time, they’ll get the rhythm down.  If they haven’t gotten it by now, then I can’t imagine that they will.  That said, it is a very difficult play, and did result in my girlfriend and I quarreling over its implications and indictments.  While I think that Mamet may have been getting at something a little more subtle, this production mostly  made me feel like I was Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange, eyes wrenched open and forced to watch a (admittedly pretty) train wreck unfolding before me.
It’s worth noting that the show features a speaker’s panel after each performance. My girlfriend was so disgusted that we did not stay to listen, despite the guest being former NYC mayor Dinkins, so I can’t help wondering if my frustrations might have been attenuated by sticking around for an extra twenty minutes.
