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Playwright Howard Barker's maxim is all too demonstrable. Musicals are the new opiate of the masses--from the Hallmark profundities and vulgarity of Rodgers and Hammerstein to Andrew Lloyd Webber's vacuous sideshows where unignited minds can gape at pyrotechnics. Occasionally, the odd rebel can be found lurking in the sing-along sheds and dry-ice factories of the West End and Broadway, true artists who refuse to lend their talents to an evening's killing. In America, only the work of Stephen Sondheim is worth mentioning, and it comes as no surprise to find short runs for his shows, though his masterpieces have begun to appear in opera repertoires. Willy Russell's Blood Brothers does not possess Sondheim's artistry. The likelihood of it ever being sung at the Met is as slim as Paul McCartney's turgid Liverpool Oratorio appearing at Salzburg (a city the horde associate with the screeching Von Trapps rather than Mozart). Blood Brothers exists as a simple morality tale, told without gimmickry or patronizing, and serves as a humble escape for those exhausted by helicopters on stage or the latest camp anthem to grade-Z films and '60s sitcoms. Best known for his plays Educating Rita and Shirley Valentine, Russell wrote Blood Brothers as a straight, songless drama on commission from the Merseyside Young People's Theater in Liverpool. After some pre-production tinkering, Russell decided to overhaul the play into a musical, which received its première at the Liverpool Playhouse. Opening at London's Lyric Theater, the piece struggled to find an audience, finally closing just as word of mouth seemed to be working on its behalf. But, like any good backstage saga worthy of a Warner Bros. treatment, Blood Brothers toured the provinces and returned triumphant to London's aptly named Phoenix Theater for a long run ("The first hit for the Phoenix since the Blitz," was the local wags' line). In part a version of Dumas' The Corsican Brothers, Blood Brothers tells the story of twins separated at birth by their poverty-stricken mother, who gives one of the children to her wealthy, childless employer. The boys, through fate's design, meet and form a tight bond that will eventually lead to tragedy. Set in Liverpool, Russell quickly turns the tale into an exploration of class conflict, and it's obvious where his allegiance lies. As one British critic noted, Russell draws the difference between classes "with all the subtlety of a Hyde Park orator." Though he found much to appreciate in the musical, Rudiger Bering warned that it "borders on social kitsch and sentimentality," especially in its treatment of the poor and rich mothers, the one becoming a "me mum" icon and the other reduced to a haughty, neurotic wreck. The poor mother, Mrs. Johnstone, is at least a vibrant portrait of a working-class woman. But Russell, who usually excels at writing sympathetic roles for women, can only offer a caricature for the upper middle-class Mrs. Lyons. Russell's attempts as a lyrist and composer are also not without fault. Though there are some fine set pieces, much of the score is monotonous. Two leitmotifs in particular--one that drones on about the devil and another that uses the life of Marilyn Monroe for the most forced analogies--border on the risible. The current production at Triangle Productions! overcomes most of the piece's pitfalls with a very strong cast. Dennis Bigelow has hired a company that not only can sing but can act. There's none of the ham and grind, neurotic grins and nasal clearing of the average musical performer. As the brothers, Dale Johannes and Leif Norby (so annoying in the moronic Little Shop of Horrors) are first-rate. Their skill in presenting the many stages of boys' lives, from energetic 7-year-olds to self-conscious teens, becomes the main highlight of this production. Kellie Johnson, a talented actor who possesses a powerful and clear singing voice, all but steals the limelight as Mrs. Johnstone. Bigelow's impressive ensemble--Tami Mansfield, Julie Barber, Wade Michael McCollom, Dave Cesana and Peter Cavan--take on a multitude of roles successfully, and work together harmoniously in all senses of the word. Rebecca Kimball makes the most of the rather shallow Mrs. Lyons, while Shawn Rogers strives to bring life to the rather superfluous Narrator. In all, a cast worthy of Assassins or Into the Woods. |
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