Meet John Doe

photo: T. Charles Erickson

I liked the musical version of Frank Capra's Meet John Doe - currently playing Ford's Theatre in Washington D.C. - more than most of the musicals that opened on Broadway this year. Endearingly square and loyal to the spirit (if not the letter) of the 1941 film, the musical Depression-era drama has been crafted with integrity and solid storytelling skill; as long as you can buy the melodramatic conventions of the source material, and you don't object (if you've seen the film) to the simplifications of Capra's themes about political corruption and capitalism, the show is a double pleasure - an intimate romantic musical framed by overarching social comment, and a love letter to the morally uncomplicated, high-style cinema of yesteryear. As an ambitious fast-talking gal reporter who fabricates a phoney suicide note for her column, Heidi Blickenstaff is vibrant, exciting, immediate. Despite the title, it's her show (the musical's one major, fixable weakness is that it takes too long to define the other main character, John Doe) and she soars with it: this is a perfect match of performer to role, a genuine star performance.

Lovemusik

***

Broadway

TONY AWARD COMMITTEE (or whatever wonderful and appropriate thing you call yourself): Please do not forget David Pittu as "Bertolt Brecht" (pictured) for Best Featured Actor in a Musical®. There was an enormous, nuanced character presented there and every time he sang it sounded as though one of those old scratchy vintage records from the 30's had come to life. Bravo David Pittu whoever you are! Sweet Donna and sweet Michael should be nommed as well for their beautiful, heartfelt work soaked with elbow-grease but I trust you guys already know that. Beyond that I wasn't too crazy about this musical about Kurt Weill's relationship with Lotte Lenya that never really took flight beyond a few bright moments offered up by the aforementioned stars. This production seemed more like a screenplay than a Broadway musical and I never quite felt like I was allowed to feel the raw, in-your-face theatricality that the original Weil/Brecht would have wanted us to feel in a piece such as this. P.S. Judith Blazer has such big beautiful eyes!

Saving Aimee

photo: Scott Suchman

Short of throwing nearly the whole thing out and starting over again, I don't think Saving Aimee is saveable. No doubt a good musical could be made about Aimee Semple McPherson, the evangelist-faith healer-entertainer whose wild popularity in the first quarter of the last century was halted by scandal, but this isn't it. Dully chronological, and lacking a strong point of view and a tangible dramatic conflict, the musical mostly eschews the most compelling themes one might imagine for a musicalization of McPherson's life (religion as entertainment, for instance) and instead depicts its heroine as - stop the presses! - a pioneering career woman. The conflict remains internal and it rings false at every turn - the character's well-documented frauds, hypocrisies and lofty ambitions are glossed over to emphasize her religious fervor and her success. The opportunity for an era-appopriate score is squandered in favor of would-be Wildhorn that ranges from bland to unacceptable. E. Faye Butler does wonders with a generic "oldest profession" number, and Ed Dixon (in a wig that brings Jerry Falwell to mind) gives the evening some much-needed levity. Otherwise, the show's biggest asset is Carolee Carmello in the title role: she's convincing even in the scenes when the character is seventeen, and she gives the adult Aimee the inner light of a driven, visionary woman compelled by a higher calling. She's sensational - blazingly sensual, fiercely unbending; if someone revives Carrie anytime soon, here's a perfect Margreat White.

American Fiesta

**1/2

Vineyard

This was an earnest one man autobiographical play about a gay man, his lover, his conservative parents, and his growing vintage Fiesta pottery collection. Though excellent director, Mark Brokaw, has attempted to make this production as theatrical as possible with projections, rolling tables, and handsome lights/scenery, better-writer-than-actor, Steven Tomlinson's many characters sounded too similar to one another and his delivery sounded more like a lecture than a performance.

BE by Mayumana

**1/2
Union Square Theatre

This bucket-pounding prototypical "special theatrical event!" throbbed with energy, sweat and impeccable timing. Unfortunately if you're looking for personality you're not gonna find it here. Generically international (South American? European? Middle Eastern? Sure. What's the diff?), this was a progression of scenes where sexy people make fast, fun, noises with different objects. If you're into that, as much of audience seemed to be-especially the kiddos, they're quite wonderful at it, but for anyone looking for a message beyond "We're exotic and we want to make fun rhythms for you!", then this is not your show.

Accomplice: New York

Gilligan's got nothing on this three-hour tour. Accomplice: New York destroys the fourth wall as it makes Manhattan the stage, those crazy people on the street its players, and you -- well, you're the starring role. No pressure, it's not a competition, though there are some Amazing Race-type detours and some slight mental ambidexterity is required. But at the same time, you're not alone: you'll most likely be traveling with seven new accomplices as you learn that theater has the ability to not just move you (emotionally), but to quite literally take you for a ride the old fashioned way. Crime has never paid off so well before, and considering that your ticket comes with a few drinks and a nice antipasto along the way, not to mention a newfound respect for the south side of Manhattan and the improvisational talents of its actors . . . it's a price worth paying.

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