Entertainment :: Theatre
Young Frankenstein by Christine Malcom
EDGE ContributorTuesday Nov 10, 2009It’s difficult to find an angle for a review of The New Mel Brooks Musical Young Frankenstein. The press release clearly had to make some tough calls regarding which of the dozens of awards collected by the writers, designers, and director to mention, let alone how to trim the positive pull quotes from the original Broadway production down to two pages. Add to this the national tour’s inclusion of the cast members who originated the three main roles, as well as a number of Tony-award-winning new additions, and America has pretty much spoken.
Then again, America has spoken in favor of some dubious undertakings (Dirty Dancing: The Classic Story On Stage, I’m looking at you), so I had my reservations despite the fact that Young Frankenstein looks to be iron clad. Happily, the property itself and the production are the real deal.
The show is longish, running 2 hours 40 minutes, and the list of musical numbers is daunting. However the production’s transitions are smooth, inventive, interesting, and flawlessly executed. The rare moments of drag seem more attributable to a book that could have used a more ruthless editor and a merciless attitude toward beloved scenes from the movie that simply don’t work on stage.
For example, the "ovaltine" scene in Frederick’s library owes its immortality to Cloris Leachman’s peerless comedic timing, but also to the medium of film. On stage, this caused a--happily transient, but not inconsiderable--dip in my opinion of Joanna Glushak’s ability to fill Leachman’s and Frau Blücher’s (I HEARD THAT!) gargantuan shoes.
More problematic is the "Please Send Me Someone" song by the Hermit. Its timing (after the requisite comedy chase number, the consummation of Frederick and Inga’s relationship, and Elizabeth’s unexpected arrival, attended) makes the scene something of a speed-bump by nature, and the fact that Brooks turns one of his signature drawn-out jokes into the functional equivalent of "Castle on a Cloud" isn’t helping. Having taken my cheap shots at the scene, the monster-shaped hole in the side of the hermit’s cabin was genius.
Other than these minor exceptions, the show is a delight. I defy even the most vehement hater of musical theater to resist the charms of a chorus of wild-haired mad scientists, werewolf jazz hands, and a giant multi-operator monster marionette. Should you insist on churlishly finding the masterful choreography a yawn, there are over-sized tesla coils, plasma balls, giant gears, and have I mentioned the giant multi-operator monster marionette?
The cast, as one might expect, is excellent overall. The ensemble members are most definitely included in the overall, which is good given how integral they are to the success of the musical numbers.
I had my reservations despite the fact that Young Frankenstein looks to be iron clad. Happily, the property itself and the production are the real deal. Of the named cast, I’m afraid to say that Brad Oscar’s bona fides surprised me somewhat, as I was not impressed with his performance as Inspector Kemp/Hermit. As Kemp his accent was distracting in its lumbering pace, and I don’t think he’d entirely mastered the steampunk arm gag. In the actor’s defense, Kemp and the Hermit are both involved in most of the scenes inclined to kill the pace of the show.
There was a great deal to like about Anne Horak as Inga, save for what seemed to be a strange directorial decision in her second musical number. In the first number and in most of her spoken dialogue, she is channelling the Swiss Miss, complete with the Hollywood Hun accent appropriate to the character. In "Listen to Your Heart," the accent is almost completely absent. Its complete, unexplained absence would have been perfectly acceptable, but the transitions from the occasional "togezher" into extremely American Rs and flat midwestern vowels were unpleasant and puzzling.
As Elizabeth, Beth Curry skirted close to imitation of the inimitable Madeline Kahn early on. However, the role in the musical is so clearly permeated by Kahn’s performance in the movie that complete avoidance of the issue was probably impossible. And for most of the performance, Curry, a gifted vocalist, dancer, and comedienne carves out something entirely her own.
The reservations about Joanna Glushak’s Frau Blücher mentioned above were mercifully short-lived. On paper, I think "He Vas My Boyfriend," must look like an ill-advised parody of Liza Minelli’s treatment of "Mein Herr" in Cabaret, but Glushak attacked (believe me, it’s the only possible verb) it with such demented enthusiasm that it ended up being one of my favorite numbers. Glushak also deserves credit for ad libbing in character when Frau Blúcher was cat called as she delivered the introduction to "Puttin’ on the Ritz."
My feelings about Cory English’s Igor are hard to pin down. His performance is consistently big, sometimes to excellent comedic effect, and more rarely to the detriment of the scene. I was also not wild about the frequent shifts in and out of a low-class British accent. I know some were calculated, but that was undermined by the fact that I wasn’t sure he’d mastered the accent in the first place. Having written this, I feel like a heel, because ultimately I’m judging the actor for not being Marty Feldman, which is hardly fair to anyone.
Perhaps more than any of the main players, Roger Bart has to deal with the specter of expectation as Frederick Frankenstein. His performance, particularly early on, is extremely subdued. I assume this is in deliberate contrast to the nervous breakdown that is always simmering beneath any line of dialogue delivered by Gene Wilder. On the plus side, Bart’s cool, no-nonsense demeanor contributes to the slick pacing of the show. On the minus, he’s occasionally difficult to understand (this may have been partially the result of problematic sound mixing or my position within the theater, but I noticed it more often with Bart than any other actor), and there are times when he doesn’t quite sell the manic outbursts.
For Shuler Hensley, the true test of the monster is, of course the delivery in "Puttin’ on the Ritz." It is, if you will permit me the metaphor, the "Nobody Puts Baby In the Corner" moment. Hensley nails it in such a way that the late, great Peter Boyle never entered my mind. The whole number, complete with the dueling shadow gag and the chorus line of monsters (which, admittedly, did briefly bring to mind the dancing elephants from the sham musical in The Tall Guy), was absolutely brilliantly done.
Young Frankenstein continues through December 13 at The Cadillac Palace Theatre, 151 W. Randolph, Chicago, IL. For more information visit http://www.youngfrankensteinthemusical.com or http://www.broadwayinchicago.com
Christine Malcom is a physical anthropologist, theater geek, and all-around pop culture enthusiast who lives and works in Chicago. She also blogs at http://telecommuniculturey.blogspot.com
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