Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

A-

Of the four productions of this Sondheim/Wheeler masterpiece that I have seen over the years, this was probably the most musically satisfying. The 26-piece orchestra led by Alex Lacamoire (Hamilton) gives the wonderful score its due and the voices, led by Josh Groban’s (Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812) velvety baritone, are all a joy to hear. Fears that Groban did not have the gravitas for the role were totally misplaced. His Sweeney is a creditable creation. Annaleigh Ashford (Sunday in the Park with George) finds more humor than menace in the role of Mrs. Lovett. Some of her physical comedy is inspired. Gaten Matarazzo (Dear Evan Hansen) is a top-notch Tobias. Ruthie Ann Miles (The King and I) brings depth to the small but key role of the beggar woman. Maria Bilbao and Jordan Fisher sing the roles of Johanna and Anthony beautifully, but I found their characterization a bit wan. Jamie Jackson, John Rapson and Nicholas Christopher are fine as Judge Turpin, Beadle Bamford and Pirelli respectively. My main disappointment was in the scenic design. Mimi Lien (Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812) has an arched bridge crossing the stage that serves as a multitude of locations including Sweeney’s barbershop and Judge Turpin’s home. When Sweeney is at work, the bridge location distances him from the audience. There are no props or even a projection to suggest the judge’s home. The production uses Natasha Katz’s (Some Like It Hot) dramatic lighting rather than images to set the locations and the mood. Emilio Sosa’s (Trouble in Mind) costumes are apt; Mrs. Lovett’s wardrobe reflects her improved circumstances as the story unfolds. The choreography by Steven Hoggett (Harry Potter and the Cursed Child) features tight unsettling groupings. Director Thomas Kail (Hamilton) keeps things moving smoothly most of the time, but there are a few spots where the narrative seemed rushed or muddy. I found my attention wandering occasionally during the long first act. I had been forewarned to expect an intrusively enthusiastic audience, but that turned out not to be the case. The only distraction was the temperature of the theater; there was a cold draft throughout the play that kept me in my coat. Despite that discomfort, it was an afternoon well spent. I can recommend it warmly. Running time: two hours 45 minutes, including intermission.

Burn This

C

It took me only a few minutes to realize that this was not a play that I could feel emotionally invested in. While I have very much enjoyed other plays by Lanford Wilson (Fifth of July, Talley’s Folly, Balm in Gilead), this one just did not speak to me. Mourning was a very real thing in the gay community in 1987 with AIDS taking a heavy toll. For a gay playwright to write a play with gay characters, dancers no less, and never even obliquely mention AIDS is puzzling. To choose a freak boating accident off Fire Island to kill off Robbie, the gay character his two roommates are mourning, seemed like a copout. Furthermore, the role of Larry, the surviving gay roommate, while excellently played by Brandon Uranowitz (Falsettos, An American in Paris), is a tired cliche — the neutered, wisecracking, loyal gay sidekick. Also, for an ad man to be living with two dancers seemed a stretch. Anna (Kerri Russell, Fat Pig, “The Americans”), an emotionally restrained dancer trying to make the transition to choreographer, was Robbie’s dance partner. Her boyfriend Burton (David Furr; Noises Off, The Explorers Club) is an entitled, stolid, wealthy screenwriter of sci-fi films who both craves and fears writing a love story. As the play opens, Anna has just returned from Robbie’s funeral, where his large working-class family assumed she was Robbie’s girlfriend. They did not know or would not admit Robbie was gay and had never even seen him dance. The long first scene with Anna, Larry and Burton has several dead spots. The play wakes up when Pale, Robbie’s older brother, bangs on the door in the middle of the night. Fueled by coke and liquor, Pale rants about urban life and any other topic that fleetingly crosses his mind. Manager of a New Jersey restaurant, he has a wife and two children in Coral Gables. His claim to closeness to his late brother seems undermined by the statement that Robbie was only seven when the 19-year-old Pale left home.  As played by Adam Driver (Man and Boy, Look Back in Anger, “Girls”), Pale is larger than life — a crude, vibrant force of nature who overcomes Anna’s initial revulsion by sheer animal attraction. The key scene when their relationship turns from shared mourning to lust did not convince me. Driver is indisputably impressive, but I found his version of Pale unmodulated and too prone to reach for laughs. As Anna, Kerri Russell is the one who is pale. In her defense, I think her part is underwritten. In any case, I did not find myself caring very much about these people. When my attention lagged, I enjoyed the beauty of Natasha Katz’s (The Prom, Hello Dolly!) changing lighting of the panorama of lower Manhattan seen through the loft’s huge windows at various times of the day. It is hard to imagine that Derek McLane’s (American Son, The Parisian Woman) huge loft ever existed at an affordable rent; it is probably a 7- or 8-figure condo today. Clint Ramos’s (Eclipsed, Once on This Island) costumes are very good at enhancing character. If there are hidden depths in the script, director Michael Mayer (Head Over Heels, Spring Awakening) did not find them. At two hours 40 minutes including intermission, it’s a long slog.