Pippin hasn’t
appeared on Broadway in 40 years, so great was the reputation of its original
production. It was the Tony in Bob Fosse’s triple-crown year and it made a star
of Ben Vereen. Its TV commercial (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bo4Tz-4rkvs)
was a landmark in Broadway advertising and the dance number featured in that
commercial—gloriously reproduced in this production—is as iconic as the
kick-line finale in A Chorus Line
(which was featured in its own TV
commercial).
I never saw the original Broadway production of Pippin but I did have the original cast album as an
impressionable 11-year-old and several years ago I rented a video of the
national tour, which featured most of the original Broadway cast. So I
approached this production with very high expectations (and so too, apparently,
did many of my fellow audience members, who already seemed to know the cast and
score).
Pippin is, at its
heart, a classic coming-of-age story, except in this case, the young man coming
of age happens to be the son of Charlemagne. But Pippin isn’t famous for its story so much as it’s famous for the way that story is told.
The choreography by Chet Walker (“in the style of Bob
Fosse”) pays liberal homage to Fosse with all its hip swivels, shoulder rolls
and jazz hands. And Stephen Schwartz’s score, which could stand on its own as a
great pop album, takes on added significance when heard in the context of the
play.
What’s new in this production is the addition of a company
of Cirque du Soleil-type acrobats who perform throughout the show. Normally, I
would take this as a sign that the director didn’t have confidence in the
strength of his script. But the book by Roger O. Hirson and lyrics by Stephen
Schwartz are surprisingly clever and, more importantly, Diane Paulus’s
direction has that stylized, Bob Fosse wink that lets you know the cast is in
on the joke.
Patina Miller effectively channels Ben Vereen in all his
sassiness, Andrea Martin practically steals the show with her big number (“No
Time At All”) and Matthew James, as Pippin, finds new ways to wring meaning out
of such piano bar clichés as “Corner of the Sky” that almost make you forget
John Rubinstein’s original. Filling out the cast are Broadway veteran Terence
Mann as the King, Charlotte Damboise—flirtatious and funny in the kind of role
that seems tailor-made for Christine Baranski—as the queen, and Rachel Bay
Jones, who brings both humor and pathos to the love interest role originally
played by Jill Clayburgh.
The chorus of dancers and acrobats deserve credit, as well.
I kept thinking of the Dazzle Dancers and other neo-burlesque acts that have
been performing the last few years in downtown New York clubs. The form-fitting
costumes by Dominique Lemieux and circus tent set by Scott Pask complete the
picture.
If I had to make one criticism, it’s that—especially after
all the literal pyrotechnics that have come before—this show doesn’t end with a
bang but with a whimper. But in this age where even curtain calls have been
turned into their own production numbers, a Broadway musical that tries to make
a serious point—and does so with great humor and great songs along the way—is
to be welcomed.
