When you go to the theater, do you tend towards revisiting the same shows over and over again? Or do you come seeking something new, modern, or avant garde?
I find that, like with most arts consumption, there are two wildly divergent philosophies. If you’re a person who annually re-reads certain books or re-watches the same films on endless loop, you’re probably in the former camp. If you’re like me, you probably tend toward more of the latter – a one and done-er who doesn’t re-experience a text unless there’s something really different about it.
When it comes to this little hobby of theater reviewing, however, my usual approach doesn’t always work. Certain plays and musicals seem to come back frequently, and with an ever-shrinking geographic range and amount of time on my hands it’s not always possible to do the far ranging exploration I’d like to. Or, on a very rare occasion, I want to just show up somewhere comfy and do the absolute least (so sue me).
One of my cozy once-in-a-while comfort spots is Chanhassen Dinner Theatres (CDT). I’ve written before about my nostalgic love for the nation’s largest dinner theater (the scope of their operation is truly extraordinary for logistics-nerds like me. Over 50 million cups of coffee served! Over 12.5 million guests who have all received multi-course meals! I mean come on, how can that not impress?!), and it stands. This was the place where professional theater was first introduced to me at a production of Brigadoon when I was 8 years old. I’ll never forget seeing the graceful dancers emerge from the misty air and learning how transportive live theater could be for the first time.
It turns out that Brigadoon is an apt metaphor for CDT itself. This is not a venue of surprises; CDT knows its niche and embraces it with open arms. Rather than short run, rotating seasons of the newest cutting-edge scripts, visitors will find long-term runs of shows culled from what is known as the “golden age of Broadway,” the experience of which is almost like stepping straight into a TCM screening of a Gene Kelly movie.
Take their latest production of The Music Man, which opened last weekend. The story of a traveling con man-gone-good thanks to the stubborn integrity of the people in a small Iowa town is most famous for the opening scene, which features a spoken word interlude and iconic choreography imitating a bouncy train ride across the Midwest. The plot is an oversimplified romance with an easy happy ending – no surprises here. It’s full of jazzy tap scenes, kitschy slang like “swell” and “gee whiz,” and a clarion portrait of the quickly disappearing ethos of the lily white world that used to be identified (at least popularly) as America itself.
I say all this to help you, potential audience members, choose whether or not you’d enjoy seeing this Music Man. If you prefer experiencing well-produced shows with familiar faces, you’re going to love it. CDT favorites Michael Gruber and Ann Michels are back in the lead roles of Harold Hill and Marian Paroo, respectively. Like their performance in Holiday Inn, the two share an easy chemistry and chummy rapport reminiscent of the Fred Astaire / Ginger Rogers dynamic, but with much better singing. Peggy O’Connell is delightful as Marian’s mother Mrs. Paroo, with a pitch perfect Irish accent and a charming delivery that instantly won over the audience. Tony Vierling brings his signature Kelly-esque hoofing style to Marcellus Washburn, and it’s fun to watch him swan through the dance scenes. John-Michael Zuerlein, Shad Olsen, Aleks Knezevich and Evan Tyler Wilson make a lovely barbershop quartet, with gorgeously harmonized voices that smoothly move the show along. Keith Rice and Michelle Barber eagerly ham it up as the bristly Mayor Shinn and his wife Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn, and it’s a perfect cameo for their skill sets.
As always, the unique challenges and benefits of CDT’s low-ceilinged space are maximized to the utmost by a top-notch production design team. Rich Hamson’s 1910’s-era costume design is detailed and danceable, pluming the actors into a perfect period setting. Most of the set is composed of floating rooftops and strategically symbolic props, constructed by a veritable army of prop masters and artisans, carpenters, painters, and other design staff, demonstrating a true team effort and the deep bench required to make such complex numbers appear effortless.
Kudos to Artistic Director Michael Brindisi and Technical Director Logan Jambik, whose close attention to detail is clearly evident in every stiffly pointed toe, meticulously curled wig and puff of “dust” from a library book.
If you haven’t gathered by now, this rendition of The Music Man is not a production that is going to rock the boat. There’s been no modernization of this production and it remains solidly in the realm it first appeared under Meredith Wilson’s vision in 1957. If you’re hoping to see Harold and Marian twirling through rows of computers or Tommy and Zaneeta sneakily setting up dates through Snapchat, this ain’t the one. But it will hit every peak vision of a nostalgic, sepia-toned vision of American Gothic America for the sentimental among us.
I did a lot of thinking over the weekend about my feelings on this. After all, I also just came out of a performance of My Fair Lady that totally put me
off with its blatantly sexist script; why was I more comfortable at CDT? The Music Man has problematic characteristics too, and there’s nothing firmly moving this production into the modern era. It’s not in my top 5 or even top 10 favorite musicals.
Some of it has to do, I think, with that 8 year old that will always be inside me when I sit in CDT’s close quarters. I have an inner child there that is hopelessly nostalgic and it looks like it’s here to stay. A bigger part, I suspect, is that CDT has carved a specific niche for itself that I understand fully even before I attend. This is not the Guthrie or the Walker Art Center or the Jungle; CDT has a completely different business model, locally available audience, and cast willing to audition for its shows. Like most industries, theaters are enduring the challenges of rapidly evolving audience expectations juxtaposed with a tough business model; this production fully embraces what CDT knows and does best, for better or worse.
Someday I’d love to see some more diverse shows like In The Heights, The Color Purple or Dreamgirls grace this stage. I hope that day will come, and if / when it does I trust that the CDT production machine will make a dreamy, movie-worthy production for the ages that such dynamic scripts deserve. In the meantime, The Music Man was a chance for me to just enjoy a high octane musical production at face value. Like the fellows of Brigadoon, I got to float back to my past in a smashing array of tap dances, high kicks and percussive scene transitions that was as familiar as the towering chocolate cake for two, a welcome moment of sentimental rest that is all too fleeting for me these days.
Everyone approaches theater with their own context and I’m sure readers are out there who will disagree with me on either end of this review. For myself – I liked this Music Man, I know my parents will adore it, and my friends will probably never go. I’m okay with all of those choices, and I don’t regret indulging for a few hours in sunny memories, warm smiles and an oversimplified plot line once in a while. It’s what I needed this weekend amid the tumult of our world and I don’t think I’m alone. If you like period musicals and beautiful production design, you’ll want to check out The Music Man before it closes on September 5. For more information or to buy tickets, click on this link.