Watching You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown is like running into your old
gang. You know, the kids you haven't seen for years. The last three decades
have treated them well. True, they haven't changed much since the late
'60s.
They're still obsessed with all the insecurities, doubts, and outright
paranoia
that childhood is heir to. But then - tell the truth - underneath it all,
aren't you
too?
To answer the obvious question at the top; yes,
children nowadays still know who Charlie Brown,
Lucy, Snoopy, Linus, Schroeder, and Sally are, and
they love them. At the matinee performance I
attended, little tykes whose ages could be counted
on the fingers of only two hands were in the
majority. To a child they sat mesmerized, behaving
themselves far better than many an adult audience
I've encountered recently. Their parents seemed
pathetically grateful Broadway is finally offering
Something To Do As A Family which does not
involve giant, menacing puppets guaranteed to give the just starting school
set
nightmares. (For those of us with unpleasant memories of masses of children
in
a Broadway theatre, the ushers assured me the week night performances are
relatively child free.)
So, is Charlie Brown just a kids' show, a mindless musical entertainment
discerning adult theatregoers should avoid at all costs? No, my friends,
it is
much, much more than that. Charlie Brown is nothing less than a delightful,
virtuoso display of theatrical skills marshaled by its director and a handful
of
disciplined, astute and finely calibrated bravura performances, the likes
of
which have rarely been seen on Broadway since Sondheim and Lloyd-Webber
changed the rules and expectations of what a musical should be.
The challenge of a revival of Charlie Brown these days is what made the
original production so appealing. It's whimsical, with little more to its
credit
than a handful of jokes and 16 fun and entertaining, if not exactly memorable,
songs. (Based as it is on a comic strip, which even at its trendy height
of
popularity was little more than gentle, forgiving, and innocent, could
it be any
other way?) There is no plot as such, simply a series of vignettes which
are
little more than set-ups for character-centric musical numbers. Charlie
Brown
is neither great nor profound Theatre.
This type of musical currently has a bad reputation, and deservedly so.
In the
hands of well-intentioned amateurs or even professionals with little
understanding of its assumptions and demands, a vintage musical comes across
as stale, pointless, and potentially offensive to contemporary sensibilities.
But in
the hands of gifted theatre artists who understand the material's limits
and
clockwork structure, in performance it can bring a glow to a stage and
enchant
and amuse even a cynical and jaded modern audience.
The director, Michael Mayer, understands and is at ease with this demanding
and now risky material. That he has made all the right choices is obvious
from
the start. The pace is quick, the staging lively and appropriate, the transitions
smooth, the tone enthusiastic, and the mood joyful. What isn't immediately
apparent in this effortless flow is how finely honed the performances are,
how
the cast's natural exuberance has been balanced and restrained so as not
to
overwhelm a musical which only aspires to provide laughs, catchy tunes,
and a
gentle good time.
Kristin Chenoweth plays Sally as if she is destined to become either a
Congresswoman or a serial murderer. (One of her speeches, suffused with
Brechtian overtones so dense it will give me nightmares for a week, somehow
sounds perfectly logical coming out of the mouth of a four-year-old.) A
major
surprise of the show, Chenoweth somehow manages to successfully integrate
a
sharp, contemporary edge into her role with hilarious results.
Stanley Wayne Mathis has perhaps the best singing voice on stage, and he
plays Schroeder as the most stable and mature character of the bunch. If
his
take on the role is occasionally a bit too intense, his performance comes
into its
own in Andrew Lippa's two new songs, "Beethoven Day" and "My New
Philosophy."
B. D. Wong pulls us in by appearing to have the time of his life playing
Linus.
Who knew he could sing? Who knew he could dance with a blanket? (Though
one could wish the choreographer, Jerry Mitchell, had spent just a little
more
time teaching that blue blanket how to dance.)
If he's not careful, Roger Bart will end up typecast as a dog. With Snoopy,
the one role in the show which allows - no, demands - flash, sass, and
a sure
instinct for physical comedy, Bart exceeds all expectations time and time
again.
(When was the last time you saw an actor literally bring the house to tears
of
laughter by yawning, stretching, and scratching himself?) And, he's got
the two
best musical numbers in the show; the inspired lunacy of the "Rabbit Chasing"
sequence with Kristin Chenoweth, and what can only be described as an 11
o'clock number in the grand tradition of Broadway musicals in "Suppertime."
Lucy appears to exist solely to challenge and exacerbate the developing
personalities of the other characters. An inept or self-indulgent actress
would
quickly fall victim to the trap of playing Lucy as anything more than the
irritable
and grumpy one-dimensional figure the role needs to be to allow the show
to
work on its own terms. Wisely, Ilana Levine resists all temptations and
her
efforts pay off handsomely right at the end, when, in one simple and effective
sentence she brings a tear to the eye, a lump to the throat, and resolves
all
issues of adolescent angst. If You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown has any
pretensions to social relevance or deep, emotional significance - and,
it does, a
little bit - this brief, golden moment - when we are given permission to
be
ourselves, faults and all - is it.
Anthony Rapp's Charlie Brown is a revelation, both for his performance
and
the discipline and professionalism behind it. Charlie Brown is a dangerous
and,
when done properly, thankless role. Play it all wide-eyed innocence and
naivete and an audience quickly grows bored and surprisingly angry with
the
character. Overdo the anguish and self-doubt and you'll lose them even
faster.
Dare to play it for laughs and suddenly the character is too self-aware
and the
assumptions on which this fragile show is built shatter into a thousand
pieces.
Jack Benny, a comic genius in anyone's book, built a career on his razor
sharp
sense of timing and ability to gauge and communicate his reactions to the
illogical world confronting him at every turn. While there are still a
few
awkward moments in Mr. Rapp's performance, on a whole he displays a
similar confident and understated approach, and appropriates the great
comedian's technique of allowing the other actors to get the big laughs.
And by
doing so, he brings his character, and, indeed, the whole show to life.
It seems
a little thing, to walk this particular tightrope. But, when you stop to
think about
it, it's an astonishing accomplishment.
The scenery, by David Gallo, and costumes, by Michael Krass, are exactly
what they need to be, no more no less. The lighting, by Kenneth Posner,
and
the sound, by Brian Ronan, is so good you don't notice it. Andrew Lippa
(Music Supervision), Michael Gibson (Orchestrations), and Kimberly
Grigsby (Music Director) are to be commended for their excellent work.