August 24, 2017
Nine gifted troupers take a vigorous spin through the six-plus decades of celebrated producer-director Harold Prince’s career in 'Prince of Broadway,' revisiting the landmark shows that won him a record 21 Tony Awards.
Imagine simultaneous revivals of a dozen or so of the standout musical productions of the latter half of the 20th century. That’s more or less what Prince of Broadway crams into two-and-a-half hours, in sample-size nuggets that touch on the magic while leaving you craving more. Sifting through such an embarrassment of riches, it’s inevitable that certain choices and omissions appear questionable, and the nine performers that make up the tremendously versatile and hard-working ensemble are a better fit for some roles than others. But this recap of an illustrious career leaves no doubt about the validity of producer-director Harold Prince’s exalted status, even if it’s thin on illuminating detail.
Unlike such revues as Fosse or Jerome Robbins’ Broadway, based around the work of leading dance innovators, Prince of Broadway faces the challenge of binding the disparate threads of an astonishingly diverse body of work. That output has included early successes like the Eisenhower-era Adler and Ross hits The Pajama Game and Damn Yankees; Bock and Harnick classics She Loves Me and Fiddler on the Roof; Kander and Ebb at their incomparable best in Cabaret; a legendary collaborative streak with Stephen Sondheim that yielded Company, Follies, A Little Night Music and Sweeney Todd, among others; and the Andrew Lloyd Webber blockbusters Evita and The Phantom of the Opera. But the best of Prince’s shows function as a seamless unit of conceptual cohesion, so lifting iconic numbers out of context inevitably dilutes their impact.
Perhaps the closest anthology of this kind in recent memory was Sondheim on Sondheim. That 2010 show attempted to stitch a throughline by using filmed interview segments with the composer-lyricist, though its cruise-ship cabaret assembly was so workmanlike that even top-drawer performers like Barbara Cook couldn’t elevate it beyond isolated standout moments.
What buoys Prince of Broadway — far more than the flimsy, intermittent linking narration, written by David Thompson and delivered by the cast as Prince stand-ins — is the polished presentation and elaborate design elements. But even more so it’s the depth of characterization achieved by the performers. Rather than just stepping in to do a number or two, the actors have clearly worked with Prince and co-director Susan Stroman to shape rounded characters — so much so that you often find yourself wishing for the same casting in full productions. The performers work from existing models but are given room to bring something fresh to the roles, and everyone gets at least one or two chances to shine.
Prime examples include the superb triple-threat Tony Yazbeck as his namesake romantic lead in West Side Story, fetchingly matched with Kaley Ann Voorhees’ crystalline soprano as Maria; Karen Ziemba as an endearing Mrs. Lovett, balancing cheerful amorality with tender longing opposite Chuck Cooper’s chillingly obsessed demon barber in Sweeney Todd; the chameleonic Brandon Uranowitz, hilariously dizzy with romantic possibility as George in She Loves Me, or deliciously louche as the Emcee in Cabaret; Emily Skinner oozing jagged disdain as boozy Joanne, swilling her way through “Ladies Who Lunch” from Company; or the appealing spark-plug Janet Dacal, tearing it up with charismatic command in the title role of Evita or simmering with dangerous allure as Aurora in Kiss of the Spider Woman.
Arguably the best example of the ensemble’s surgical attention to character comes in the sizeable chunk devoted to Follies. Even before the performers open their mouths to speak or sing, anyone familiar with that monumentally rueful show about roads traveled and untraveled will recognize Yazbeck as Buddy, Ziemba as Sally, Cooper as Ben and Skinner as Phyllis. It seems a crime not to get to hear Ziemba sing Sally’s torchy confession, “Losing My Mind.” But by way of compensation we get Yazbeck’s shattering take on “The Right Girl,” a schizoid ricochet between romantic ecstasy and agony in which philandering Buddy’s torn loyalties are amplified by an emotionally charged physical expression of his dilemma — a virtuoso extended tap solo that makes you sweat just watching.
Some of the pairings of performer and part are unexpected. The classic handsomeness of Michael Xavier, with his imposing height and the chiseled jaw of an astronaut, oddly makes his interpretation of “Being Alive” from Company, the ultimate song of emotional vulnerability and need, quite affecting. And having African-American performers take on traditionally white roles switches up the dynamic, notably with Bryonha Marie Parham as Sally Bowles, steadily cranking up her big-belt voice through the title song from Cabaret and building to a powerhouse finish in front of a cascading silver Mylar curtain. But while Cooper brings outsize lust for life to Tevye in “If I Were a Rich Man,” that exuberant number seems inadequate as the sole representation of a musical with the pathos of Fiddler.