Lempicka (Longacre Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

I must confess I don’t know enough about Polish Art Deco artist Tamara de Lemprica to parse the fiction from the facts of the “pop-infused” bio-musical which has just opened on Broadway after tryouts at Williamstown Theatre Festival and La Jolla Playhouse. But it’s pretty clear there are heaps and heaps of dramatic license at work. 

In any case, the superficial result is, at best, somewhat akin to the short-lived “Diana: The Musical.” Which is not to say that, like that unfortunate retread of the short life of the Princess of Wales, there isn’t some decent talent on stage and behind the scenes.

As with “Diana,” for instance, the new show’s star, Eden Espinosa delivers a creditable performance, at least within the framework of the script’s broad strokes, morphing from crusty old lady in the opening scene to young woman caught up in the upheaval of the Russian Revolution in 1917, and then moving forward. She delivers dramatically and musically, revealing only occasional strain at the top of her register. 

The show’s book -- by creator Carson Kreitzer and composer Matt Gould --  relates how Lempicka rescues her upper crust husband Tadeusz Lempicki (Andrew Samonsky) from prison during the Revolution by bribing his captors with jewelry and then, when that fails, her virtue. They flee to Paris where she refines her talent for painting, under the tutelage of Futurist Movement founder Emilio Marinettii (a manic George Abud), and the patronage of a Baron (Nathaniel Stampley) and his wife (Beth Leavel), gaining fames for her celebrity portraiture and daring nudes. 

She soon makes the acquaintance of singer Suzy Solidor (Natalie Joy Johnson), and through her, falls under the spell of the prostitute Rafaela (a fictitious composite character played by the charismatic Amber Iman) with whom she commences an affair. Even before they eventually meet, both Tadeusz and Rafaela are aware of each other, but they settle into a comfortable, don't ask, don’t tell, triangular arrangement. 

Lempicka’s precocious daughter Kizette (Zoe Glick), a frequent model for her mother’s portraits, but otherwise neglected, is written and played like a cross between Baby June from “Gypsy” and Patty McCormack in “The Bad Seed.” And curiously, she seems to remain a child over the years.

Against the backdrop of ominous changing times and the impending rise of Fascism, Lempicka becomes emblematic of “the New Woman.” This also includes her enthusiastic patronage of an elaborate lesbian bar run by Suzy. Yet, all of these freedoms are soon to be curtailed by a more intolerant regime, with the now sinister Marinetti its chief proponent here.

Gould’s music makes no attempt at a period sound. It’s mostly hard-driving pop/rock bombast with a few soft ballads in the mix. I did like Iman’s jazzy “Stay,” but otherwise the score is predictably generic. Musicians are openly positioned in the pretty Longacre boxes, but the overall sound palette is a heavily miked artificiality. (Under the helm of Music Supervisor Remy Kurs, Charity Wicks leads the orchestra.) 

Leavel’s eleven o’clock number, as the Baroness confesses she is dying, earns applause, but vocally, she has little else to do. Samonsky’s attractive vocals are a pleasure throughout.

Director Rachel Chavkin does the best she can with the property but “Lempicka” is several notches below her previous triumphs, “Hadestown” and “Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812.” Raja Feather Kelly’s choreography is more Studio 54 than pre-Occupation Paris, but at least it keeps things lively. 

Riccardo Hernández's constantly shifting Eiffel Tower/Art Deco scenic design, augmented by Peter Nigrini’s newsreel footage projection design and Bradley King’s lighting provide visual interest.  Paloma Young’s costumes and Leah Loukas’ hair & wig design conjure the appropriate period look. 

Just based on the subject matter alone, the relatively little-known Lempicka would seem to be a longshot for Broadway success, and yet I should report that the audience at my Saturday night performance was highly enthusiastic throughout. Whether they were cheering the performances or the various triumphs of the show’s heroine -- or both -- I was at a loss to discern.

(Longacre Theatre, 220 West 48th Street; LempickaMusical.com)

Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman: Eden Espinosa

Water for Elephants (Imperial Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

This musical adaptation of Sara Gruen’s 2006 best-selling novel (also the basis for a 2011 film) is a capital example of Broadway showmanship at its best. A catchy score by the Pigpen Theatre Co. collective, lively choreography by Jesse Robb and Shana Carroll, some spectacular acrobatics seamlessly integrated, artful puppetry, and fine performances enhance an absorbing, if familiar, love-triangle narrative. 

Everything holds together beautifully under the masterful direction of Jessica Stone who here has taken on a far more complex endeavor than her last, the relatively small-scale “Kimberly Akimbo.” This is a far bigger, more elaborate show. 

The musical had its premiere at Atlanta’s Alliance Theatre where it opened to positive reviews. (In fact, the couple seated next to me had seen it there, and loved it so much they wanted to experience it again. They were not disappointed.)

Rick Elice’s book starts with the elderly protagonist Mr. Jankowski (Gregg Edelman) -- about to go  AWOL from his nursing home -- relating his life story to workers at a circus. He tells how, as young Jacob during the Depression (here played by Grant Gustin), he had joined the (fictional) Bengali Brothers circus as a veterinarian following the devastating death of his parents in a car crash. 

August (Paul Alexander Nolan), the hard-boiled circus owner/ringmaster hires him after learning that he had some training, if not degree, in that field. Jacob soon becomes attracted to August’s wife, the horse trainer and rider Marlena (Isabelle McCalla), though he initially sublimates his feelings. 

After the death of Marlena’s horse from overwork, the circus takes on an elephant as its star attraction. Rosie, as she’s called, is introduced to us very artfully in sections -- a leg, a trunk -- before we finally see its full form (embodied by four puppeteers). The excellent puppet design here (which also includes an orangutan and lion) is the work of Ray Wetmore, JR Goodman, and Camille LaBarre.

But awed reference in the latter-day scenes to a legendary stampede in 1931 clues us in to more trouble ahead. Meanwhile, the growing comradeship among Jacob, Marlena, and August eventually leads to domestic tension when August senses the others’ growing attachment, inevitable given August’s short fuse temper and abusive tendencies. 

It’s good to see Edelman back on Broadway in a major role, in fine vocal and dramatic estate. His character doesn’t drop out when the flashback narrative begins. Gustin is just as good in his Broadway debut, and the two share acting honors. The always reliable Nolan is also splendid, and plays the good/bad duality of his part most skillfully, while McCalla is warmly sympathetic as the conflicted heroine. 

The other circus workers -- tough guy Wade (Wade McCollum), wise-cracking Barbara (Sara Gettelfinger), alcoholic Camel (Stan Brown), and caustic clown Walter (Joe De Paul) -- are each finely characterized, and major assets to the show’s appeal. 

The acrobats are uniformly spectacular. Antoine Boissereau has a particularly fine and poignant sequence on silks as the ailing horse. Elsewhere, the high-flying stunts are beautifully melded with the dramatic action and choreography. The second act opening production number, “Zostań,” being a prime example.

All the circus elements are authentically executed (Shana Carroll is credited with “circus design”). But Takeshi Kata’s set design, David Israel Reynoso’s costumes, Bradley King’s lighting, Walter Trarbach ‘s sound, and David Bengali’s projections all contribute to an eye and ear-filling sensory experience.

Pigpen Theatre Co.’s score, orchestrated by Daryl Waters, Benedict Braxton-Smith and August Eriksmoen, is tuneful and period perfect. Mary-Mitchell Campbell and Benedict Braxton-Smith share music supervision and arrangements credit, and together they’ve created a satisfying earful.  

(Imperial Theatre, 249 W 45th Street; Telecharge.com or 212.239.6200)

Photo by Matthew Murphy: (l.-r.) Paul Alexander Nolan, Isabelle McCalla, and Grant Gustin -

The Notebook (Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

Nicholas Sparks’ best-selling novel has been beautifully realized in its latest incarnation as a Broadway musical. The decades long love affair between Noah and Allie -- played by two pairs of actors (Ryan Gosling and Rachel MacAdams, and James Garner and Gene Rowlands, respectively) in the 2004 film version -- are played here by three pairs here, and they have been cast completely across color lines. 

Though, on paper, this might seem a case of diverse casting run amok, the approach absolutely works, thanks to the effectively stylized approach and the sensitive direction of Michael Greif and Schele Williams, not to mention the appeal of the players: John Cardoza and Jordan Tyson as the young lovers, Ryan Vasquez and Joy Woods as their slightly older incarnations; and Dorian Harewood and Maryann Plunkett as the eldest. Vocally and dramatically, all are very fine. (Veteran Harewood replaced John Beasley who created the role in the Fall 2022 Chicago production, but died prior to the Broadway transfer, and he is excellent. )

At least on the basis of the film, the storyline of Bekah Brunstetter’s book is faithful to the original, some streamlining and minor changes notwithstanding. As before, upper crust Allie falls for lumberyard worker Noah under the wary eye of her parents, especially her mother. Though their romance is almost derailed, Allie almost marries the more patrician Lon, obstacles are eventually overcome. By the end however, Allie is in a nursing home with severe dementia, and Noah, not recognized by Allie, reads to her from the diary she had written before she lost her memory, so their story would not be forgotten. Plunkett’s heart wrenching portrayal is extraordinarily good. 

The film kept the revelation that the older couple were, in fact, Allie and Noah, until midway through. But here, given the structure of the adaptation, the connection is revealed right from the start. 

Singer-songwriter Ingrid Michaelson’s very agreeable score seems thoroughly apt at all times, except perhaps for Joy Woods’ big number, “My Days,” which earns a rousing hand, but seems a little out-of-place for character. Overall,  I can’t say, after a first hearing, I walked out humming any of the tunes. But Music Supervisor Carmel Dean, who collaborated on the arrangements with Michaelson, maintains a pleasing sound palette throughout..

Besides the excellent players already mentioned, there’s fine work from Andréa Burns as Alley’s disapproving mother, Charles E. Wallace as her father, Chase Del Rey as her temporary fiance, and Carson Stewart as an empathetic young physical therapist in the nursing home. And except for the actors playing Noah and Allie, everyone inhabits multiple roles. 

David Zinn and Brett J. Banakis’s versatile set design -- lighted by Ben Stanton -- begins austerely in the nursing home but seamlessly morphs into the various flashback settings, complemented by Lucy Mackinnon’s projections. Paloma Young’s costumes capture the changing fashions. Nevin Steinberg’s sound design is nicely balanced and not overpowering as in so many shows.

Branded tissues are for sale at the theater, and indeed sniffles abound towards the end, but somehow “The Notebook” avoids the maudlin. There’s genuine sentiment here, and the end-of-life issues that come to so many are accurately and honestly dramatized, particularly in the seasoned hands of Plunkett and Harewood. 

(Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre, 236 West 45th Street; NotebookMusical.com)

Photo by Julieta Cervantes: John Cardoza, Dorian Harewood, and Ryan Vasquez, with Maryann Plunkett