Theatre: Passing Strange -- Hmm This Isn't Like Those Other Musicals

Stew, the man at the center of the new Broadway musical Passing Strange is hard to untangle from STEW, the collective "afro-baroque cabaret" partly responsible for the show. The man is aptly monikered, having involved himself in rock albums, film, and now the stage along with his collaborator and fellow STEW founder Heidi Rodewald.

Passing Strange doesn't resemble much of anything on Broadway unless you count what goes down at a typical rock show at the Nokia Theatre. Some have pointed to Rent as a touchstone for the show but Rent is at heart a big old-fashioned musical that borrows some of its energy from post-Brill Building pop -- just ask the 12 year-olds who chant-sing the songs on the subway. Passing Strange is a different animal entirely -- a full rock band is onstage at all times, led by frontman/narrator Stew, punching out a set of excellent songs that are clearly very personal. These are fleshed out by an outstanding supporting cast who play multiple roles and take a turn singing here and there.

Unlike Rent which can run for eternity with cast swaps and simultaneously in San Fran and Singapore, Passing Strange needs Stew at it's center. I pity David Ryan Smith, Stew's understudy. It would be like understudying for Mick Jagger. Not that Stew is Jaggeresque -- he brings a droll seen-it-all tone to the proceedings. His voice and guitar playing are great, but what really works are his little asides to the audience and cast, some of which seem spontaneous. Even when the narrative is being carried by his actors, Stew is a presence watching the action, sometimes encouraging Daniel Breaker as a young version of Stew named Youth with a nod or discouraging him with a sad shake of the head.

That being said the cast, including Breaker, is wonderful -- ably fleshing out their multiple characters with aplomb. Breaker captures the arrogant curiosity of youth and well... Youth, without losing his essential sweetness and likability. de' Adre Aziza shines as a haughty teenage object of Youth's affection and later hilariously, as Sudabey a German avant-garde filmmaker who makes pornography that consists of two fully clothed men in business suits making deals. Colman Domingo has a rich voice and superb timing which is put to great use as the closeted choir director Franklin. Rebecca Naomi Jones gets to transform from a teenage "bad kid" to a sharp waitress and then finally the "den mother and social engineer" of a radical Berlin art collective.

If there is a weakness here it's summed up in the original title of the play, Travelogue. We follow Youth (and Stew's) search for "the Real" as he leaves his suburban Los Angeles home for the hazy good life in Amsterdam, and then the radical class and identity based political art of late Cold War-era Berlin. The observations made about all the locales are sharp and often funny. Youth's struggle to be himself while dealing with what it means to be black and to love and to be loved are all well-observed also. The last quarter of the play suffers a bit though as we try to make the connection between what Youth has learned about himself and how he gets to be Stew. It's more of a case of narrative petering out which is certainly preferable to it overstaying its welcome.

The staging is admirably simple and well-thought out by director Annie Dorsen, with a lot of clever interaction between the band and the cast. The terrific lighting design by Kevin Adams is notable for being able to suggest much about these different locales while also pumping up the music in traditional rock show fashion.

Passing Strange as a title refers in some ways to being able to "pass," as a member of a different race or sexual orientation or what have you. In a sense the play is a great concept album, "passing" quite successfully as a Broadway show. Now that's what I call thematic consistency.

Xanadu on Broadway: Singing with Tongue in Cheek

My wife and I settled in to watch a preview performance of the new musical Xanadu on Broadway at the Helen Hayes theatre. Yes you really did read that. As the first song unfurled I wasn't quite sure where they were going to take this. Dancers flouncing about in ridiculous Solid Gold-esque costumes, ELO's so cheesy it's wonderful songs and lots of emoting -- this was either going to be po-faced homage or snarky send-up. Neither option really sounded appetizing. Then Kerry Butler, who stars as Greek muse-come-to-life Kira takes center stage and sets the tone for a madcap Mad Magazine style take on musicals, the kitschy 1980 film the musical is based on, celebrity culture, gay culture, Greek mythology, and anything else that strays into writer Douglas "The Little Dog Laughed" Carter Beane's sights. Butler is a star. Even if Xanadu closes after two weeks she should be assured of a bright future on Broadway and beyond. Can she rollerskate? No problem. Sing like Olivia Newton-John (star of Xanadu the film)? Yes, and she takes it one step further by using her considerable range and comic chops to find the humor in the phrasing and breathiness of Newton-John's original performances. Did I say comic chops? Butler is sharp and funny throughout, chewing on Kira's adopted faux-Aussie accent with aplomb. Her physicality is astounding, even on roller skates. You can feel the fun she's having with this challenging and unusual part.

This isn't to slight the rest of a talented cast by any means. James Carpinello plays sweet simple artist Sonny with a touch of earnestness and a dollop of Welcome Back Kotter - era Travoltaness. He also has a rich and clear voice and his wide-eyed line readings mark him out as the shows ingenue. Mary Testa and Jackie Hoffman as two scheming muses nearly steal the show. Their performance of ELO's "Evil Woman" is a major highlight.

The great Tony Roberts is always deserving of his own paragraph -- and here it is. Beane's book takes the Danny Maguire character in an edgier direction than Gene Kelly's portrayal in the film and Roberts finds all the humor and some of the pathos within. His singing is wonderfully characterful and he delivers his lines with the timing of a master. He has even more fun in his dual role as uptight Zeus, and the cast singing of Newton-John chestnut "Have You Never Been Mellow" complete with centaur and cyclops to loosen him up nearly overshadows the actual climax.

Other than the two songs I mentioned previously all of the other music is from the movie score by Newton-John Svengali John Farrar and ELO mastermind/least-famous Wilbury Jeff Lynn. For anyone who grew up in the late 70's and early 80's and had a working radio that means a great big sugary nostalgia rush from songs like "Magic", "Suddenly" and the theme song.

The plot you ask? A muse inspires a mortal to create the apogee of the arts in 1980 Venice California: a roller disco. They fall in love, which is forbidden. This is played for all the ridiculousness inherent in the premise. The only hitch is an ending that, at least in previews, doesn't quite deliver the showstopping umpph required. Some of this may be due to the intimacy of the Helen Hayes theatre, which doesn't allow for much trickery or ga ga sets. The stage is further constrained by the now in-vogue group of seats on the stage itself. While the lack of a giant unfolding Victorian house or an onstage downpour or all the other gimmickry foisted on theatre-goers over the last several years is refreshing Xanadu is by it's nature gimmicky and tacky. As much as I loved seeing the delicious Ms. Butler downstage and singing vampily as a stagehand rose from the audience with a room fan to make her blow around, a little extra spectacle could make the singing of Xanadu - the theme song to the musical of the film, just as cathartically hilarious as "Have You Never Been Mellow" is a few scenes back.

Still this is a real treat. 4 out of five disco balls