Scarlett Letters

A week ago today, we went to see Pippin at The Music Box Theater. Now, before I say anything else, I want to put my reactions into context: it should be said that "Pippin" was never a favorite show of mine. Sure, I liked the songs that became hits--the ones that everyone knows, at least if you grew up on Long Island when the show first premiered--"Magic to Do," "Corner of the Sky," and "No Time at All." But the first time I saw it, it left me with some rather unfavorable impressions. I found it a boys' show, about a man's journey, with women portrayed as nothing more than props, temptations, distractions, or traps--Berthe being the one exception, overshadowed by all the other negative messaging. I also disliked the ending rather severely, with the hero feeling trapped but happy, a lion in a beautiful cage, presumably that of his love--trapped by a woman, kept from his ambition because of her. Years ago, I argued with one friend--a male--about this ending and my interpretation; he violently disagreed with my response to the show but, in the end, our responses are our own and nothing he said altered my opinion. I am not surprised that his interpretation differed from mine. The show, from my perspective, espoused his, and we'd never see eye to eye.

So when davidlevine said he wanted to see the new production on Broadway, I agreed mainly because the show is so important to him, and quietly figured we'd have a spirited debate about it afterward. So skeptical was I that I didn't do much in the way of research about the current production beforehand. I knew that it featured a sort of New Vaudeville approach, featuring acrobatics and aerialists along with some of the classic Fosse choreography. But my first delightful surprises upon arrival were that Annie Potts was playing Berthe and Terrance Mann, whom I'd first seen on Broadway in "Cats" decades ago, was playing Charlemagne. My mind began to open to the idea that I might enjoy the show after all.

The show opens with tiny powerhouse Patina Miller as the Leading Player. She is all sparkle and charisma with a giant voice and a feline energy in the role. No wonder she won an Tony. And the show swung into action. David, knowing the show very well, noticed things that I never would, like the cutting of one of Charlemagne's songs. I noticed that the original choreography for the Manson Trio was recreated for Miller in all its hip-grinding, joint-popping glory (and credited in the program--in fact, under the choreographer's name are the words "in the style of Bob Fosse"). My God, the muscle control required for that work! Just watching it made my muscles ache. Annie Potts was, predictably, charming and spunky as hell, with a genial presence tempered with an undercurrent of delicious fun. And at 62, there she was up on a trapeze with the best of them--careful, perhaps, and well-supported, but her gumption cannot be denied. Terrance Mann was there showing them all how it's done: by turns magisterial, mischievous, lecherous and wise, you could tell he was having the time of his life. He could have done this performance in his sleep, but the fun of watching Mann is knowing that he's wide awake, having a blast, and blowing away everyone else on stage.

One of the challenges of "Pippin" for me is giving a damn about Pippin himself. This is a hero's journey, and he's a particularly naive and tender hero, so wide-eyed that he's clay, willing--wanting--to be molded to greatness. It gave the actor, Matthew James Thomas, not much to work with. He brought earnestness and eagerness to the role, an appropriate naivete. When the role allows him to pop, pop he does--but I think it's the role itself that doesn't let an actor really shine, because while Pippin has ambitions of greatness, his reach exceeds his grasp. That, really, is part of the point, so Thomas has a particular challenge to meet. He meets it, but because Pippin is in so many ways himself unremarkable, the role doesn't give an actor a lot to do--except toward the end, when the emotional journey comes to a head. He meets the challenge. He doesn't outshine it; he plays his role well enough for the spot he's in.

[SPOILERS]
The biggest change in the show, though, is the end. This production uses an alternate ending. Pippin never declares himself happy but trapped. He declares independence from the razzle-dazzle of ambition. And then the show ends with Theo, the son of the woman with whom Pippin falls in love, alone on stage singing "Corner of the Sky" being slowly surrounded by the Lead Player and her troupe. It's a very circle-of-life moment, with the fireworks of life tempting another child into their fire.

And this is what made this production of "Pippin" work for me. It went to a universal theme that everyone--not just men, but women, too--can recognize and grab onto. We all start out with hopes and dreams. Life, however, is what happens while you're making other plans. None of us can escape that cycle of dreaming. It's always there, with all it temptations, and what this production is saying is that love is its own end and we all navigate the distractions and the barriers thrown at us to find it, to embrace it, and to overcome the things that hide it or downplay it. For me, it was a far more satisfying conclusion. It had none of the misogyny that spoiled earlier productions for me. And it made the show feel, for me, far more complete. It's interesting to me that the Wikipedia article about the show says that Stephen Schwartz, wh wrote the show, actually finds this end more satisfying as well. I need to go research this assertion and see if I can learn more about his thoughts on it.

We ended the evening with a stint at the stage door, where I got autographs from many of the actors on my Playbill, including Annie Potts, Patina Miller, Matthew James Thomas, Erik Altemus (who plays Pippin's brother Lewis), and Rachel Bay Jones (who plays Catherine, Pippin's love). I had hoped to met Terrance Mann; sadly, he did not make an appearance.

The evening was a surprise and a delight for me, unexpected, but very welcome indeed.