Thursday morning, I schlepped way downtown, near the former site of the World Trade Center where a steady stream of people arrived to view the new 9-11 memorial, for an interview.
In a nearby high-hrise apartment lives composer Frank Wildhorn, whose cult hit Jekyll & Hyde is about to get a re-conceived major revival starring Constantine Maroulis (American Idol, Rock of Ages) in the fall, with a stop at the Kravis Center.
Although I did my homework on Wildhorn, what I didn’t know is that he grew up in Hollywood … Florida … and his mom currently lives in Delray Beach. He claims the latter is why his two most recent musicals (Wonderland and Bonnie & Clyde, both fast flops on Broadway) started life in Florida, in Sarasota. (“It’s all about Mom,” he declares.)
In addition to the specifics of this upcoming Jekyll & Hyde revival, to be directed by Jeff Calhoun (Newsies), we spoke about why Broadway sees Wildhorn as a pop music outsider. It hurts, he concedes, but he also reels off a few musicals currently running around the globe (Carmen, Count of Monte Cristo) that are entertaining audiences far from insular, judgmental Broadway. Wildhorn may not have Broadway’s respect, but he has created his own empire of shows and is getting the last laugh over his critics.
In the late afternoon, I went to meet and talk to Anthony Lyn, the tour director of Mary Poppins, also Kravis-bound. But a scheduling snafu left me waiting for him for a half-hour before I had to leave. Text messages later explained that the publicist never confirmed the interview with him, but we decided to give it a try again Friday.
The day ended with a bang, though, seeing the wildly acclaimed laughfest One Man, Two Guvnors, an import from the venerable National Theatre of Great Britain, a knockabout farce with a classy — if tenuous — basis in Carlo Goldoni’s 18th-century commedia dell’arte staple, The Servant of Two Masters.
You need to know nothing of the source material, whose paper-thin plot and conflict are well summarized by the title. At the production’s center is an inspired farceur, glandular James Corden (The History Boys), who smashes the fourth wall by embarassing several audience members, (Spoiler: Some of whom are cast members).
Corden is lightning fast with ad-libs, even if some of them are scripted. Next week, when Tony nominations are announced, Corden will surely grab one and, I think, become the front-runner for the award. Still, how voters can possibly compare his performance to, say, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman, is a conundrum.
Corden and his fellow British cast members will only be here for a limited run. They represent the best reason to get on a plane and head to Broadway this season.