Displaying items by tag: Dave Malloy

“Gonna have to study up a little bit if you wanna keep up with the plot ‘cause it’s a complicated Russian novel,” so says the prologue in Writers Theatre’s Chicago premiere of ‘Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812’. Don’t let the complicated Russian novel part scare you off because Dave Malloy’s unique take on Leo Tolstoy’s classic ‘War & Peace’ is anything but a living book report. It’s a serious breath of fresh air for musical theatre as a genre.

Nominated for an impressive amount of Tony Awards in 2017, including Best Musical and Best Musical Score, ‘The Great Comet’ was a smash hit to say the least. It’s not often you see a line queued up for a musical adaptation of a very long book, the other most notable being ‘Les Miserables’ in the 1980s. And just like ‘Les Miz’, the playwright has done a lot of trimming to ensure a normal two and a half hour running time. Instead of utmost faithfulness to the source material (as is the case with ‘Les Miz’), Malloy turns the period piece musical on its head. 

‘The Great Comet’ is a chamber opera, in that every line of dialogue is sung-through and the songs further the plot, hence the prologue. What’s really interesting about this particular adaptation is that for one, you do not need to have any familiarity with Tolstoy’s behemoth novel in order to be dropped into the middle of the book. ‘The Great Comet’ is but a small section of the book, but it is arguably one of the most interesting parts of the novel. Dripping with juicy soap opera subplots as well as the richly drawn interior lives of the characters, something Tolstoy was quite adept at. This show also wouldn’t spoil the overall plot of the novel as it leaves some plot points open-ended that are later solved in the novel.

Natasha (Aurora Penepacker) is engaged to Andrey (Matthew C. Yee) who is at the front fighting in the Napoleonic war. For safety’s sake she’s living with her soon-to-be in-laws in Moscow and for the first time in her life seeing the big world and all its temptations. When she meets dashing, but wicked Anatole (Joseph Anthony Byrd), she begins a risky affair that could threaten her future.

Writer’s Theatre’s production is one of the first major revivals since the original Broadway production and under Katie Spelman’s direction, it’s an absolute delight from beginning to end. When the curtain comes down on the first act, you’ll be immediately craving more. More of the music, more of the incredible voices and more of the heartrending music that cuts to the core of what it means to love.

This production culls together some of Chicago’s most formidable singers and actors including Bethany Thomas in the role of Marya (Natasha’s guardian) who gives one of the most electrifying performances of the evening. Not to be outdone, playing Nathasha’s best friend Sonya, Maya Rowe has likely the evening’s best solo with the song ‘Sonya Alone’. Aurora Penepacker does Tolstoy’s vision of the innocent Natasha more than justice, her song ‘No One Else’ provides the first pang of emotion. Though, don’t count Bri Sudia out as Pierre’s philandering wife Helen. She’s delivering pure musical theater magic all night. 

Spelman’s aesthetic for this production moves this musical from the black box to the opera house. Grand in scale, but still intimate. There’s a certain Baz Luhrmann quality to the costumes and the staging, and along with the modern pop soundtrack creates a very satisfying product. It just feels cool.

What will make this niche show continue to prosper in revivals is the music itself. Sophia Copola might be the godmother of putting modern music into period pieces, but Dave Malloy is doing more than just borrowing familiar tunes from his youth. The soundtrack feels like the first truly relistenable soundtrack in decades. Not a bit of the saccharine jukebox music with throw-away lyrics here. And though there is a musical through-line, what this show really benefits from is the unexpected diversity of unique sounding songs. Each song becomes its own world in a way that most modern musicals fail at. It feels like a harken back to the Sondheim era of musical theatre.

‘The Great Comet’ is the perfect musical for people who say they hate musical theatre. At the risk of saying “steampunk”, it’s a refreshing take on both musicals and adaptation. The creativity of both the cast and direction at Writers Theatre makes for an enchanting night at the opera.

Through October 27 at Writers Theatre. 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe, IL. 847-242-6000  

*Extended through November 3rd

As the Chicago premiere of Dave Malloy’s Ghost Quartet was set to start, a cast member walked across the stage, stopping to thank us for attending before adding, “See you on the other side,” in the spookiest voice and with the spookiest face, setting the stage for more than an hour of spooky musical and musicality to come.

I was not too familiar with the content of Malloy’s “song cycle” before the show, only aware that he’d also penned the renowned Tony winner, Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812. I’d also given a preliminary listen to some of Ghost Quartet’s soundtrack during morning train rides, finding a favorite here or there among the play’s songs, but leaving myself in the dark as to its story.

Having seen the show now, I’m still not sure the story is any clearer, but I’m pretty sure that’s purposeful (and why it’s referred to as a “song cycle”). And I’m pretty sure that titling it a “Quartet” is a perfect label. Because over the course of an hour-and-a-half (with no intermission), the story (or stories, as Poe and Scheherazade and Thelonious Monk and a telescope and a bear and a subway and, I think, Little Red Riding Hood, are all mashed up together) became secondary to everything else the audience was offered. And because over the course of said production (directed by Ed Rutherford), the four-piece cast acts much as a classical or vocal quartet does — playing with and off one another to deliver a delightful and disparate musical program.

The feel of a musical program (as opposed to a musical musical) is highlighted with the introduction of each of the 20 tunes — each “track” presented as part of an album or a mixtape. Some of the songs are part of a greater whole (perhaps this could be described as a “concept album”?), but many stand alone on their own musical merits. The ethereal “Starchild” is equal parts Bowie and ballade. “Any Kind of Dead Person” rollicks and frolics into Klezmer territory. “Fathers and Sons” is a duet, both vocally and via cooperative percussion. And “Four Friends” is one of the better drinking songs I’ve heard in quite some time (seriously, I wish I’d known that chorus back in my whiskey-drinking days!).

But each of those songs, and the other 16 that make up the show, are only as powerful or playful or seductive or stunning as the four extraordinary talents who give them life. And what extraordinary talents each of the four cast members possesses.

Possessed of extraordinary talent both vocally and physically, Amanda Raquel Martinez (the one whose spooky salutation greeted us) brings the chills throughout. At times displaying an operatic soprano, at others displaying the ability to contort her face into a possession that’d make Linda Blair’s head spin, Martinez had my focus through the show, and my musician’s admiration, as well, as she played ukulele, guitar, accordion, and percussion throughout.

Martinez’s counterpart Rachel Guth earned my equal admiration, come to think of it. Going from vixenish to virtuous, from gangly and girlish to sultry and seductive, Guth displayed an acting range only bolstered by her timeless look and her ability to sing anything from heartbreaking ballad to boozy barroom belter.

But if it seemed I couldn’t peel my gaze from Martinez or Guth, I think the cast member I watched with the most awe was Alex Ellsworth. Ellsworth played the cello for the entire show, grounding the quartet in its stringed roots. And while he played various roles (and some percussion), it was Ellsworth’s ability to make the cello just about anything but a cello that kept drawing my eyes and ears to his corner of the stage (decorated eerily and beautifully by Jeremy Hollis, I should add). At times it was a violin, at others a fiddle. When needed it provided ethereal sound effect. And at one point it was held on Ellsworth’s lap like a giant banjo and strummed with a pick. About the only thing Ellsworth’s cello didn’t do was harmonize with the other three actors — thankfully its owner’s got an enviable knack for vocal harmonies that turned a trio into a foursome.

And the fourth of the foursome, T.J. Anderson, I’d liken to that oft-forgotten stepchild of the string quartet, the viola, if you don’t mind me keeping on with that analogy. While his castmates might have gotten the juiciest parts to play (remember, this story’s made up of many stories, so each actor fills quite a few roles) and the choicest songs to sing, Anderson holds the whole thing together. He does so on the piano, which he plays for most of the show (accompanied here and there by man-behind-the-curtain musical director Nick Sula). He does so while pounding a tom-tom or while donning a black leather jacket. He does so by making each of the other three better and the sum of their parts greater.

So, if you’re looking to see four of our city’s talented actor/singer/musician types who I hope we all come to know better tackle a “song cycle” that you’ll leave knowing better, catch Black Button Eyes’ Ghost Quartet at Stage 773 from now until August 17.