NEW COMPANY LIVES UP TO 'PROMISES' WITH FIRST SHOW
By Don Shirley
A new theatre company seldom fulfills promises with its first production, but Reprise! has done so with "Promises, Promises" at the Freud Playhouse on the UCLA campus.
Reprise! is based on the theory that a semi-staged musical revival can generate sparks, even if the actors carry scripts and the band occupies much of the stage. Big-name stars will agree to appear, the theory goes, because the rehearsals and the engagement are so brief that they don't interfere with more lucrative gigs.
Well, sure enough, Jason Alexander took time away from his "Seinfeld" negotiating to star in "Promises, Promises." As the schlep accountant who loans his Manhattan flat to his bosses for their extramarital romps, he looks properly self-effacing, yet he's a likeable dreamer, and he sings and dances with considerable charisma. He's supported by a number of other well-known actors - and the show sparkles.
Although Reprise! is subtitled "Broadway's Best in Concert," the word "concert" seems unduly modest. If it conveys images of formally dressed performers in mostly stationary positions, think again. This musical moves, and "formal" is hardly how it looks.
It begins with a quintet of women in glitzy miniskirts sauntering onto the stage and throwing themselves into '60's-style shimmying. Yes, we're back in 1968, when the show premiered - but we're seeing the mainstream corporate culture of that era, not the counterculture. Or is it really the '50s, which is when "The Apartment," from which Neil Simon adapted his script, was written? Some of the attitudes look '50s - but no one did go-go until the '60s.
The Burt Bacharach/Hal David score is pure '60s pop. The original production pioneered the electronic enhancement of its sound in order to resemble a studio recording, complete with pit singers, Reprise! producing artistic director Marcia Seligson noted in the program. She has followed suit, except that there's no pit. The 10-piece band is on a platform at stage center; the female "pit singers" stay backstage.
This stage is big enough, however, that the band doesn't get in the way. Whether this will be true in productions that would seem to require a fuller orchestra ("Finian's Rainbow" is scheduled next) remains to be seen. But here there's room for one and all. There isn't much room for a detailed set, but Jane Reisman's lighting helps fill in the gaps.
The band is subdivided by a path through which actors make many of their entrances and exits. And occasionally the band joins in the action. Musical director Peter Matz serves as the silent bartender, leaning over a railing to offer drinks to Alexander and Jean Smart. He exchanges a vigorous high-five with Alexander. The other band members don Santa hats during the Christmas party scene, and holiday lights adorn the platform.
Meanwhile, in front of the platform, the blocking hardly looks restricted. Alexander even manages a few surprisingly acrobatic flips over and around a sofa. The dancers stretch and kick with abandon, even during the virtually inexplicable "Turkey Lurkey Time" that closes the first act. The fluid motion engineered by director Stuart Ross and choreographer Adam Shankman slows down only for a few introspective moments, such as the score's most famous and uncharacteristically placid number, "I'll Never Fall in Love Again."
Scripts are sometimes camouflaged as props - not an implausible stretch in the office where much of the show is set. Music stands that support scripts pose as typewriter stands. And even when the scripts are just scripts, the cast hardly seems to notice them - so neither does the audience. No one blew any lines on opening night, and the actors explored the nuances, not just the lines.
But then this is quite a cast. As the troubled love object, the Audrey Hepburn-esque Karen Fineman sings with controlled passion, and she and the tart-tongued Linda Hart get a driving duet, "You've Got It All Wrong," that wasn't in the original show (it was added for a similar concert revival in New York). Alan Thicke mixes the necessary oiliness of his cad character with the good looks and strong voice that make his seductive powers credible. A high-pitched and fluttery Jean Smart is an adorable drinking partner for the much shorter Alexander. Barney Martin employs his patented comic timing. With pros like these, the Reprise! promises will be easy to keep.
Reprise! Broadway's Best in Concert has hit upon the perfect setup for L.A. theater. Instead of planning a two-month run of a play only to lose your lead actor to a "better" job (e.g. a commercial), this series signs up a bunch of name thesps for two weeks of rehearsal and one week of performances; it even lets them carry their scripts onstage. Call it Short Attention Span Theater for Actors. But surprisingly, with its inaugural production of "Promises, Promises" in the sure hands of star Jason Alexander and director Stuart Ross, Reprise! is a hit.
It's a minimalist experience, to be sure, especially for theatergoers more accustomed to the scenic extravaganzas of Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals. The orchestra (led by musical director Peter Matz) sits on a platform in the middle of the stage. There's no scenery and only basic props; actors get one costume apiece. However, Adam Shankman jazzes things up with some fun choreography, and those scripts in the actors hands are easy to get used to (especially when they set them aside to sing). This unusual approach focuses attention on the acting, which is superb, and on the show itself, which although dated, holds up well enough under scrutiny.
Based on the hit film "The Apartment," "Promises, Promises" is a "How to Succeed in Business"-type tale about ambitious young accountant Chuck (Alexander), who finds the easiest way to climb the corporate ladder is to lend his apartment to the higher-ups for assignations. For instance, he explains, he lends it to "Mr. Kirkeby in public relations, which means every Wednesday night I'm sitting out in public while he's upstairs having relations." Eventually Chuck wins his promotion, but he must cut everyone out of the apartment loop except for personnel manager Sheldrake (Alan Thicke at his smarmy best), who's having an affair with Miss Kubelik (the charming Karen Fineman), the object of Chuck's unrequited affections. When Chuck realizes who's involved, his conscience starts bothering him.
With its chorus of philandering businessmen (Charlie Robinson, Alan Rachins, Fred Willard and Paul Kreppel, all terrif in the hilarious number "Where Can You Take a Girl") counterpointing a trio of dancing chorus girls (Jill Matson, Kristie Canavan, Anne Fletcher) in miniskirts and go-go boots, this production has a fresh enough take on the 1968 musical's old-fashioned, sexist attitudes to make them palatable.
It also provides the opportunity to hear anew what was in its time a groundbreaking Broadway show, unusual in its musical style and untraditional sound (how many shows have tunes about basketball?). Matz's sensitive musical direction even puts a fresh spin on chestnut "I'll Never Fall in Love Again," which, far from being the familiar sappy ballad, is a bitter but clever song, with lyrics clearly enunciated by Fineman and Alexander. Director Ross keeps action pacy and comes up with some sterling business, especially in the number "A Young Pretty Girl Like You," in which Alexander's tumbling is abetted by Barney Martin's grumping (he's great as the crotchety doctor next door).
Besides Fineman, a sympathetic and winning songstress, other standouts in the cast are Jean Smart, whose innuendo-trading with Alexander kicks off the second act, and Linda Hart as sassy secretary Miss Olson, who sees it as her duty to warn single girls about her married boss, Sheldrake.
But this is Alexander's show. He kibitzes with the audience; he frets and bumbles and charms. He's a triple-threat with a few additional skills thrown in, and he gives a winning performance in a role that fits him like a glove. Upcoming shows in the Reprise! series are "Finian's Rainbow" and "Wonderful Town." Here's hoping Reprise! fulfills its initial promise.
By Lisa D. Horowitz
After a sold-out four-day run in May, Reprise! Broadway's Best in Concert has brought back the 1968 musical comedy "Promises, Promises," with a book by Neil Simon, music by Burt Bacharach and lyrics by Hal David. The musical is based on Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond's Film "The Apartment," a sendup of corporate life that starred Jack Lemmon and Fred MacMurray.
And it's absolutely terrific - both witty and wise in the best tradition of the Broadway musical. No frills, no oversize sets, no love-starved phantoms roaming about an opera house, no power-crazed wives of Argentinian dictators, and no washed-up silent movie stars attempting a Hollywood comeback. Just a stageful of savvy veterans who do what they do best - dance, sing, act, entertain and enjoy themselves. Credit director Stuart Ross for bringing it all together.
Modeled after New York's highly successful Encore! Series, the "Promises, Promises" on the UCLA campus has managed to assemble big-name entertainers for a concert staging of this little-performed classic musical. All that's onstage are some chairs, a desk, a couch and an orchestra conducted by Peter Matz, who also doubles as bartender.
"Seinfeld's" Jason Alexander creates a splendid Chuck Baxter, a nebbishy New York accountant who wants to make it up the corporate ladder. When he has the opportunity he begins lending out his apartment key to executives for their trysts with the office staff. Soon, Baxter's imperious and philandering boss J.D. Sheldrake (Alan Thicke) asks for the key himself. It seems he's carrying on with Fran Kubelik (Karen Fineman), who works in the company's cafeteria. There's one problem: Chuck is smitten with the seemingly unattainable Fran and imaginatively fancies what she might say to him.
Other members of the first-rate cast include Barney Martin (another "Seinfled" regular), Linda Hart as Sheldrake's secretary, and Charlie Robinson, Paul Kreppel, Fred Willard and Cliff Bemis as the corporate predators.
Jean Smart ("Designing Women") appears briefly in Act 2 as an overly aggressive woman who confronts the woeful Chuck in a bar. After a while, they stagger off to his place for a drunken near-seduction scene that's worth the price of admission alone.
By Ed Kaufman