the craptacular

It has been made abundantly clear that Stephen Sondheim doesn’t like opera. This is fortunate, because this post isn’t about him. And because no matter how strongly he dislikes opera, there is no sense in pretending that it and musical theater are entirely disparate. That they’re like random people who pass each other on the platform of the A train. Maybe one looks at the other and thinks, “I like your shoes,” but the relationship ends there.

I don’t believe it works like this.

I believe that musical theater and opera are more like cousins who are the same age, and grew up in the same city. They’ve moved away and have their own lives now, but they still send each other birthday cards, and they still get together once or twice a year for a really fun girls night and it’s always a good time, because they have just enough common history, and friends, and tastes, that the relationship never feels tedious. And of course, they both like to sing.

I’m telling you this because The Mick and I saw an opera on Sunday. And we usually don’t talk about opera here on The Craptacular, not because Stephen Sondheim hates opera, but because opera is generally in another language, exceptionally expensive to attend, and approximately three hours long. And because 10 Hilarious, Totally Accessible Opera Moments on YouTube is like… not an easy, or a fun piece to write.

But I want to tell you about this opera we saw on Sunday, because it was written by someone who is not typically a writer of operas, but of pop songs -– Rufus Wainwright.

Now, it’s not like this opera came totally out of left field for Rufus. It’s not like, “Oh. Katy Perry wrote an opera.” Because Rufus Wainwright is obsessed with opera. Opera metaphors –- musical and otherwise -– appear everywhere in his work. In fact, his first music video ever –- for the song “April Fools,” which is secretly the greatest pop song of the last decade, just FYI — featured him and a bunch of opera divas.

I always found Rufus’s opera obsession, like everything else about Rufus, to be hopelessly cool. And I was dying to see New York City Opera’s production of Prima Donna.

Because like… what would it be? Would it be pop songs sung in an operatic way? Would it be kind of like a musical, where the language and the presentation feel contemporary? Would it blur the lines between the forms?

The answer is… sort of! But not really. Because it’s absolutely certain that Prima Donna, which opened on Sunday at BAM –- that’s in Brooklyn; ever been there? — doesn’t pretend to be a Broadway musical. It’s a damn opera. It’s in French. It’s structured like an opera. It’s sung operatically, like Carmen or La Traviata would be sung, and by opera-trained singers singing in an operatic style.

The story focuses on a faded opera star who’s about to make her big comeback, only she’s kind of a headcase and can’t get it together. Really, that’s all it’s about. There are some sideline shenanigans with a maid, a journalist, and an evil butler, but the opera singer is really the whole story.

The show’s lovely star, soprano Melody Moore, is an opera singer for real. She’s done La Boheme and The Magic Flute and a dozen other classic roles –- but she also starred in Seance on a Wet Afternoon (by Stephen Schwartz) and has been directed by Des McAnuff (in Faust). So the question is pretty compelling: If you’re an opera singer, and you’re singing songs by Rufus Wainwright and the guy who wrote Wicked, are you still singing opera? (Related: If you’re Jonathan Groff and you’re in a classical Greek play with music by Philip Glass, do your pants still sparkle when the house is half-empty?)

Likewise, there are elements of Prima Donna that don’t feel quite musical-y, but don’t feel like traditional opera either. For example, take Prima Donna‘s insanely beautiful overture, which feels mournful and melody-saturated enough -– and contemporary enough –- to be a film score. Or the song at the top of the second act wherein the young maid compares her provincial hometown to nutty Paris. The latter, if it had been in English and sung by Audra McDonald, could have opened the second act of any musical this season. Well, any musical this season about a headcase opera singer that features an innocent young maid as a sort of overly obvious foil.

Maybe my brain is going in this direction because so many contemporary musicals have embraced the all-music-all-the-time format. (I won’t call them “through-sung” since reading Finishing the Hat. I know, it’s like an infection.) American Idiot or Miss Saigon aren’t necessarily operas, but maybe these kinds of popular contemporary musicals help audiences see across the divide, from one form to the other. And maybe the lines aren’t so clear anyway, and never have been. After all, Audra McDonald has a beautiful coloratura. And if Melody Moore wanted to play Mamma Rose next season, she probably could. Revival anyone? Paging Julie Taymor…

If the casting of Samantha Barks as Eponine didn’t fill your theater nerd heart with enough joy, we’re now learning that other, smaller roles are being filled by Les Miserables stage alum. The latest (and truly greatest) are as follows:

Alistair Brammer is Jean-Prouvaire, Killian Donnelly is (probably) Combeferre, and Fra Fee is (also probably) Courfeyrac.

All three confirmed via Twitter. Except Killian Donnelley, who confirmed via Twitter and then immediately deleted it, but there are screencaps. Crafty!

Here’s some stuff you should know about these guys. Besides the obvious fact that they are all handsome.

Killian:
He’s massively tall and is currently starring as Raoul in Phantom on the West End. He’s Irish, and he plays the guitar. Like lots of dudes who’ve been in Les Miserables in London, he’s played basically every character in the show at some point, except like… Fantine. He’s funny on Twitter, so you’d do well to follow him. And his series of YouTube videos with John Owen Jones, who recently played The Phantom, will change your life forever for their basic level of genius buffoonery and you should watch them right now. And the Mick is obsessed with him. Which surprises no one.

Alistair Brammer:
You guys! There is a dearth of information about Alistair Brammer on the internet, so can you hurry up and fix that? Anyway, here’s what we know: He has curly hair and he played Jean-Prouvaire in the 25^th Anniversary concert, and he’s also played Marius.  Also, he looks kind of like a British Jay A Johnson.

Fra Fee:
Oh my goodness, Fra Fee. He’s 24, he’s from rural Northern Ireland, he has the best name ever, and just based on the look of his sweet little face, he should live in The Shire for real. By our best count, he’s played Jean-Prouvaire and Marius in Les Miserables, and and he was previously in Dirty Dancing on the West End. And you should watch this cute video, because he talks a lot. And we’re clearly such suckers for the accent.

Further reading:

• GTFO, Taylor Swift: Samantha Barks Is Eponine Because She’s Better Than You
• Aaron Tveit Is Enjolras and Everything Is Going to Be Just Fine

Its a beautiful sunny Saturday that feels like early April. You shouldn’t be at your computer. But, since you are, here are some theater happenings for your weekend consideration. We even let our intern write a few of them this week!

• Ah, speculation. Sometimes it bites you in your gossipy ass. Guess who’s NOT doing the Les Miserables movie? Ramin Karimloo, who said as much this week on Twitter. Wonder killer. On the bright side, he’s extended his run as Jean Valjean on the West End, so his fangirls now have 24 additional stagedoor opportunities.

• Death of a Salesman was forced to cancel its first preview when star Phillip Seymour Hoffman was felled by the flu. Which sucks for a lot of reasons. Like the fact that this officially means there was one less opportunity to see the beautiful Andrew Garfield and Finn Wittrock on the Broadway stage.

• Matt Cavenaugh is knocked up, you guys! So you should go ahead and enjoy your instantaneous Matt-cradling-an-infant mental image.

• Complete casting was announced for Peter and the Starcatcher. Joining the previously announced Christian Borle is… the entire original, off-Broadway cast. We just got a little tingly. Adam Chanler-Berat, Greg Hildreth, and Carson Elrod oh my!

• Newsies will have a cast album, clearly. Aside from the one that’s been playing on a loop in your mind for the last 20 years.

• The Pasadena Playhouse’s Sleepless in Seattle Musical is on ice for now. In more important news, check out this miniscule yet creepily amazing show logo.

• And because no fucks were given anywhere on planet Earth in regards to human decency or appropriate timing, the stage musical version of The Bodyguard will open in London in November.

• Meanwhile, the Broadway to Hollywood lovefest continues. First, the August: Osage County film landed both Her Royal Streepness and a Pretty Woman. Then, How to Succeed star Michael Urie picked up a pilot for CBS called Partners and HBO bought a theater-themed series called 44th Street by NewsRadio creator, Paul Simms. And in the week’s most deeply disconcerting development, the beautiful Steven Pasquale landed the lead in the Michael Mayer directed NBC pilot Do No Harm. We’re crying tears of simultaneous joy and sadness. Steven, please don’t keeping leaving us! Please! Come sing on our stages again!

• The Book of Mormon is set to open in London in March, 2013. In related news, Sophie G, The Craptacular’s UK-based intern, is howling so loudly with joy that you can probably hear her from across the Atlantic.

• Julie Taymor and Spidey have have begun to settle their legal dispute over the show’s creative rights. Basically, Julie’s getting royalties, and she’ll get more money when the show recoups. The best part of this story, though, was the typo in the original BroadwayWorld article, which read, “The Producers has agreed to pay Julie Taymor…” We just had visions of Nathan Lane handing her wads of cash.

So we hit up the opening night of William Shatner’s sentimental solo show last night, entitled Shatner’s World: We Just Live in It. We had fun. (And I nearly swooned in the lobby, standing next to my ultimate teen crush — you know, the one I developed right after I found the Beatles and irony — Ben Folds.)

But sitting there in the Music Box Theater, as the 80-year-old Shatner walked us through the highlights of his career, complete with video clips and projections, we were gobsmacked by one thing: When he was young, the man was a fox. Put this in your Friday Smile File:

You know what this is?

This is the best 25.99 seconds of our entire backstage tour at Godspell. We couldn’t keep it to ourselves any longer.

So, for your viewing pleasure, George Salazar’s hilariously on-point performance of “Mamma Who Bore Me” from Spring Awakening. Featuring Nick Blaemire as the creepiest air-guitar player ever.

You are welcome, America.

Though, I am sorry I snorted in laughter at one point. Please don’t let that interrupt your experience.

When the curtain fell on the Encores! production of Merrily We Roll Along—playing at City Center until Sunday—I actually started crying. No, not during the final, touching, hopeful scene, but as the curtain fell. The show itself was over. My tears were for the sheer joy of seeing something so smart, so beautifully rendered on the stage. For a smart, challenging musical having a life in a city that sometimes feels overfull with empty-headed Spider-Mans and Wonderlands. Even if that life is only fifteen Encores! performances –and even though that show is more than 20 years old.

Of course, that’s not to say that Merrily wasn’t also emotional in and of itself. Because it is and was, and always will be. Sondheim’s astute, vivid portrayal of love and friendship and desire—the contradictory boundlessness and limitations of which drive human life—shines here, even in a pared-down Encores! style production. Perhaps that’s because Encores! feels as if it is about the songs most of all, and the music and lyrics in Merrily are so incredibly top notch, so rich and layered with emotion.

The book, by George Furth, is still hinky in places & some of the dialogue is so ‘on-the-nose’ it doesn’t feel real.  For my money Sunday in the Park with George is a better, more insightful portrayal of the creation of art and the lives of those who create it.  And frankly, I wouldn’t envy anyone the job of playing Franklin Shepard, an anti-hero whose motivations are difficult to discern or understand, largely because for much of the show he’s so self-centered and immature it’s hard to imagine he’s ever felt much of anything at all.

But the real story of this production is the performances. Two in particular, given by Elizabeth Stanley and Lin Manuel-Miranda, really leapt off the stage. Stanley’s Gussie Carnegie was actually pitch-perfect. So, either Stanley actually is Gussie in real life, or this is just the best casting decision/performance combination ever.

And then there’s Lin. Whose casting honestly seemed a bit out of left-field. Whose Charley is an unexpected joy.  Whose “Franklin Shepard Inc.” reminds you that it’s secretly (or not-so-secretly) the best song in that whole damn show. Whose performance is so bright and fully realized it brings depth and color to a character that could easily be relegated to also-ran status.

Their performances, combined with what was an otherwise a solid cast—shoutout to the very handsome Colin Donnell whose talent saved Frank from the pit of douchebaggery he could so easily have sunk into—and a big, beautiful orchestra, gave shining new life to Merrily. And who knows. Maybe this production could lead to a full revival. One that outlasts the 15 Encores! performances, or the 16 Broadway performances of its original run. A girl can dream, right?

Photo: Joan Marcus

Aw, it’s Valentine’s Day! And here are some people you would never, ever want bringing you candy and flowers — on this day or any other. Because they’d probably poison them.

Bobby
So, you might be thinking… Gee, I’m sorry I don’t have a Valentine this year. But we’re here to remind how you grateful you should be that you’re not stuck with Company’s resident cad, Bobby. It’s exhausting just to think about how much ego stroking you’d have to do to keep this  inner manchild/commitmentphobe happy. Who has the time for that kind of shit? Especially when he’s only ever going to want to marry you a little. Yeah, we said it!

The Phantom

Look. Parts of his brain are showing on the outside of his skull. And his wig is real bad. REAL BAD. And then, even if you can get past all those superficial things, this pyscho-freak spends his free time building life-sized doll replicas of you, which is only sweet until he’s “killing” them in front of you. Or trying to murder your very handsome, very rich boyfriend. All in all, it’s best to just steer clear of this guy.

Johnny
Sex, drugs and rock and roll seemed like a great idea. In the 70s. (Okay, and also in the 80s.) But welcome to 2012. Sex and rock and roll remain awesome. But drugs? Who thinks that’s a viable lifestyle choice anymore? And who needs a tripping boyfriend waving a knife in their face? Certainly not us. Now… if he could clean up, get a job, and ditch that chipped nail-polish, well, maybe you can make some room for his sensitive punk soul. But until then, riding solo is probably a better option.

Billy Bigelow
Everything seems all well and good when he’s taking you for a spin on the Ferris Wheel or Carousel or whatever. And Billy B. looks super cute in a neckerchief, which is appealing. Honestly, we understand. But let’s be real here — he’s emotionally constipated. And not incidentally, this is a man who thinks a it’s a good idea to express his love through his fists. Which is just never okay. Never. Not even if he says he loves you. Not even in a musical.

The Magical Mr. Mistofelees
Oh well, never was there ever a cat more annoying than magical Mister Mistofelees. At least, on the spectrum of cat personalities, Grizabella had soul and the Rum Tum Tugger was a rockstar. Mistofelees on the other hand – the puckish “magician” cat – will spend all his time stealing your shit, bouncing off the walls like he’s snorting Ritalin twice an hour, and competing with you for the spotlight. If you’re looking for a less hyper alternative, we hear Munkustrap is single. Rawr.

Elder PriceGuess who you’re not fornicating with this Valentine’s Day? This guy! If you want a piece of that sunshiny action, he’s going to have to put a ring on it first. On the bright side, guess where you’re going on your honeymoon!

FoscaA good rule of thumb: The next time Fosca mysteriously turns up in your bedroom at a weird hour of the night, explaining that she just “forgot something” last time she was over, you might want to consider getting a restraining order. And a really, really good shrink.

Boq
Simpering, a little dull, and without a single decent song, Boq is the least eligible bachelor in Oz. Hell, Galinda can’t even remember his name. With the man market in that town so dreadfully narrow, no wonder a stuck-up playboy like Fiyero got so much action.

Velma Kelly
What’s not to love about Velma, besides the fact that she’s a narcissist, a murderer, and a pathological liar who spends most of her day in leotards? If you do brave a date with her, we recommend bringing along a really thoughtful gift and a concealed weapon. Then she’ll decide whether you’re the one who will write to her in prison, or if you’re the John Doe that will finally land her there.

Guido Contini
Handsome dude, right? He’s European. He’s creative. Except that he’s an utter headcase when it comes to women – and really just a headcase in general. If you’re in the mood for a fling, Guido might not be a bad choice. Our advice for self-preservation, Italian-style? Don’t marry him, steer clear of his mommy issues, and don’t let him blame you – or Freud – when things inevitably go south in the second act.

Melchior Gabor
Melchior seems like a good catch on the surface – nice hair, inquisitive mind. But there are a couple of things he doesn’t know anything about, like how to use a condom, for example. Before he pressures you into sex you only sort of want to have, beats you with a switch, and knocks you up, let’s all have coffee sometime. You won’t believe what happened to his ex…

Further Reading: 10 Hot (Fictional) Dudes in Musicals

So here’s a cool thing: Every night at Godspell, following the show, there’s a raffle where you can win a backstage tour. We wanted to know what it was like, and we wanted to share with you, because maybe you can’t get to NYC to see Godspell, or maybe you just have crappy luck.

So the cast of the show — namely, Nick Blaemire and George Salazar — were kind enough to take us around backstage and show us some stuff.

Of note:

• Nick was totally right in the middle of his dinner when we arrived. It was soup from Cosi, not like we noticed. Then he ate Skittles. Then he joked about doing the tour shirtless. We would have been fine with that, but it never happened.
• Clearly understanding how our minds work, George offered us candy. Here’s mine. It’s a salted caramel.
• Before the tour, The Mick told Nick that she hadn’t seen the show yet, and for a second, he believed her. It was a sweet moment.
• It was Uzo Aduba’s birthday. (Happy belated!) We saw the cake and heard the cast sing to her. Magical moments.
• We caught a glimpse of “tramp call,” the preshow rehearsal where the cast tests out the onstage trampolines. But really, we just like saying the words, “tramp call.”
• We had a little run-in with Hunter Parrish. Namely, we woke him up from his nap. Worth mentioning: The Mick was so startled by this whole incident that she nearly dropped the camera.
• You can kind of hear us giggling in parts. Sorry. We’ll work on that next time.

Though you’d never know it from the weather, February is well under way. So this weekend, while mother nature tries valiantly to make some snow happen, we’ll be seeing some Encores! and rehashing about the following theater-y stuff:

• Gavin Creel and Andrew Rannells took to the internets this week to discuss the names of their future children. Because they’re definitely not together. And they’re definitely not kidding. And they definitely knew it wouldn’t get a reaction out of you at all.

• If you were walking down 9^th Avenue and you thought the Rapture happened, think again. It’s just that everyone who works in theater got a TV show this week. Sutton Foster’s hideously named show “Bunheads” got picked up by ABC, and Jonathan Groff will join the political drama “Boss.” Meanwhile, Josh Gad will produce and star in a pilot called “1600 Penn” about life in the White House. These all sound interesting, but until someone produces “Laura Osnes: Vampire Slayer” we’ll stick to going to the theater for kicks.

• Paradise Lost, the planned film adaptation of John Milton’s epic poem that was slated to star Broadway’s Ben Walker, is canceled, according to people on the other side of the country who knows such things. You know what else was canceled in the process? A lot of bad CGI, Ben Walker with weird hair, and the massacring of great literature. All in all, it was a good week for American theater.

• Stick Fly will close on Broadway following lackluster performance at the box office. Not that shows prematurely close for any other reason…

• The mysterious and all-powerful Tony nominating committee decided this week that Hunter Parrish (Godspell), Josh Segarra (Lysistrata Jones), and Jeremy Jordan (Bonnie & Clyde) are all eligible to be nominated in the Best Actor in a Musical category for their performances. The last item is of note simply because we’re all starting mental preparations now for when Jeremy Jordan is nominated against himself. If that happens, we may barf from overexcitement like Nomi in Showgirls.

• Rumors have begun to swirl that Lea Michele may or may not be in talks to play Wendla in what could be some really age blind casting of McG’s forthcoming Spring Awakening movie. If she’s playing Wendla, we think they should just chuck it all to the wind and bring Gavin Creel back as Melchior. Why not go all out when you ask people to suspend their disbelief, right?

• If you haven’t seen this video of Mamma Mia star Jordan Dean working out, then you have lost your damn mind. Stop everything and watch it right now. Trust me; it’s rare to find a ginger-man this hot. Respect must be paid.

• In news that is either a total joke, or possibly just really, weirdly meta, long-lost-Beatle-looking Scottish singer/songwriter Paolo Nutini—he of “New Shoes” fame—is writing music and lyrics for a Nowhere Boy musical.  Honestly, does anyone else just think this may be weird British social commentary that they’re somehow not understanding?

• And last but not least, in your weekly Les Miz movie update… Hugh Jackman is growing his Valjean beard! It’s… strangely attractive. But that’s probably just because it’s on Hugh’s face. Another Hugh related item? He’s getting a new song in the film version. Because god forbid this movie musical not be eligible for an Oscar for Best Song.

• Will Chase and Tom Wopat will join Laura Osnes in Encores! Pipe Dream. Hotties for every generation of fangirl, y’all!