The Little Prince (Broadway Theatre)

 By Harry Forbes

Make no mistake. Considerable artistry has gone into the large-scale adaptation of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s  ever-popular 1943 story. But there’s no denying this French import, which has already played Paris, Sydney, and Dubai,  is a singularly odd candidate for Broadway.

Neither a play nor a musical, the production most closely resembles a ballet, albeit one with some Cirque du Soleil-type aerial stunts. There are a couple of songs, but mostly dialogue recitation rather tiresomely delivered by librettist and co-director Chris Mouron in heavily French-accented English (titles helpfully supplied on the side of the stage).

At first I thought the androgynously outfitted Ms. Mouron would be voicing the titular character which would make sense for a child’s voice, especially as The Little Prince is, in fact, portrayed by the strapping adult Lionel Zalachas in a yellow jumpsuit. But no, Mouron also speaks for The Aviator (Aurélien Bednarek), and all the others encountered by The Little Prince in his interplanetary travels. Besides the monotony of the conceit, the narration and dialogue excerpts hardly serve to make the plot comprehensible to anyone unfamiliar with the story.

The program breaks down the “scenes” by character but unless you’re consulting the running order in the dark, you might still, from time to time, find yourself at a loss. 

Upon reflection, the production might have been a more logical fit for Lincoln Center or even BAM. In an earlier age, a producer like David Merrick would occasionally import an international success, but if he were here today, I’m sure he would think twice about the commercial possibilities of this particular property. As it is, there were walkouts at my performance. Nor did I see many children in attendance (it was an evening performance), but I would guess that even kids familiar with the book would fidget. 

Though there have been countless adaptations of Saint-Exupéry’s novella, I believe the last Broadway attempt must have been the notorious 1982 flop, “The Little Prince and the Aviator,” with a score by John Barry and Don Black, which closed without opening after 20 previews.  

Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe had, of course, written a very appealing score for Stanley Donen’s 1974 movie version which was not a success either. (Disappointingly, a recent York Theatre semi-staged presentation of the Lerner & Loewe songs was scrapped over a pesky rights issue.) On the other hand, Rachel Portman’s commendable operatic version won deserved plaudits. And the BBC filmed version aired on PBS, proved it is possible to make a viable stage property from the delicate source material.

The strongest elements of the production at hand are those impressive aerial stunts (Flying by Foy), the corps de ballet (choreography by Anne Tourné who also directed), and the non-stop projections by Video Designer Marie Jemilin. Terry Truck’s percussive score, albeit prerecorded, has a certain hypnotic appeal. In all fairness, there are moments of great beauty, both visually and balletically, amidst the stretches of tedium.

The cast of actors and acrobats are all first-rate, including Zalachas (a master of the aerial straps, when he’s not standing on a big black ball, symbolic of The Prince’s tiny asteroid) and Bednarek. Also outstanding is Laurisse Sulty as The Rose. But all the principals have their strong moments including Joän Bertrand as The King; Antony Cesar as The Vain Man; Marie Menuge as The Drunkard; Adrien Picaut as The Businessman; Marcin Janiak asThe Lamplighter; Srilata Ray as The Snake; Dylan Barone as The Fox; and William John Banks as The Switchman. There’s an impressive post-curtain call turn by Antony Cesar.

Mid-show audience applause at my performance was very tentative, as it was never quite clear whether one is actually supposed to clap or simply silently observe the action as between movements at a symphony. But the audience did break forth with well-deserved appreciation for the hard-working ensemble at the end. 

(Broadway Theatre, Broadway and 53rd Street; Telecharge.com or 212-239-6200)

Photo by Joan Marcus: (l.-r.) Laurisse Sulty (The Rose) and Lionel Zalachas (The Little Prince) 

Cheek to Cheek: Irving Berlin in Hollywood (The York Theatre Company)

By Harry Forbes

For its first mainstage show post-pandemic, the York has mounted a surefire crowd pleaser: a breezy, utterly delightful overview of the great composer/lyricist Irving Berlin’s made-for-Hollywood output. 

And though the show’s title references one of Berlin’s most familiar standards, show buffs needn’t worry that the songs will be selected from his oversaturated greatest hits. The creators have wisely provided a good deal of rare material to keep things interesting. And even the better known songs -- performed as well and cleverly as they are -- sound freshly minted (thanks to Fred Lassen’s vocal arrangements and orchestrations and Rob Berman’s dance arrangements). The result is just about the finest musical playlist of any show currently in town. 

Instead of “Easter Parade” from the film of the same name, for instance, we get “Drum Crazy” and “Better Luck Next Time.” Instead of “White Christmas” from the 1954 film, we hear three other numbers. From the lesser-known 1939 Sonja Henie vehicle “Second Fiddle,” the band does “When Winter Comes” and four of the cast do “I Poured My Heart into a Song.” There’s even a song intended for the 1960s-era film “Say It With Music” that was unfortunately shelved when MGM changed management. 

“Cheek to Cheek” skips over the film adaptations of his stage work, so don’t expect “Annie Get Your Gun” or “Call Me Madam,” and I take that as a further plus.

Under the ever creative guidance of director/choreographer Randy Skinner, who also conceived the show, nearly every number takes flight. Over a decade ago, Skinner worked magic in similar territory when he choreographed the Broadway production of “Irving Berlin’s White Christmas.”

And with six immensely likable performers -- Phillip Attmore, Jeremy Benton, Victoria Byrd, Kaitlyn Davidson, Joseph Medeiros, and Melanie Moore -- equally adept at singing and dancing, the fast-paced 80 minute show flies by. There are so many showstoppers and the cast is so uniformly good that it’s almost impossible to single anyone out. 

But just a few highlights: Bird offers a lovely “Reaching for the Moon” cut from Berlin’s first film in 1930, and returns late with other nicely vocalized ballads. Attmore and Benton have an exciting go at Ethel Merman’s “My Walking Stick” from “Alexander’s Ragtime Band.” Medeiros and Bird lead the company in the wittily choreographed “Back to Back” from “Second Fiddle.” Moore scores with a lovely “Isn’t This a Lovely Day?” and pairs winningly with clarion-voiced Attmore for “The Piccolino.” Davidson and Benton beautifully handle the revue’s title song “Cheek to Cheek’ with Davidson delivers a touching solo, “ Love, You Didn’t Do Right By Me,” and Benton offering a heartfelt “I’ve Got Plenty to Be Thankful For.” Medeiros makes several bespectacled appearances as Berlin and has a nice solo moment with the Oscar-nominated “Change Partners.” 

Expert book writer Barry Kleinbort ties the numbers together with just enough interesting narrative to tell Berlin’s story in unhackneyed fashion. Never bogging down the musical proceedings, he peppers the script with interesting facts such as Berlin’s negotiating control of how his songs were used, a percentage of the gross, and eventually title billing as he went from United Artists to RKO to Fox to MGM, and so on, and lightly touching on personal matters such as Berlin’s devotion to family and his bouts of depression.

The show plays out beautifully on the St. Jean’s stage, roomier than the York’s regular venue at St. Peter’s which is currently being restored after a major flood. York Artistic Director James Morgan has designed an attractive paneled set, lighted by Jason Kantrowitz, allowing for historic projections while the six band members, including Music Director David Hancock Turner, sounding quite wonderful, have a spacious performing space upstage. 

Nicole Wee’s costume designs are attractive and danceable, and the unobtrusively satisfying sound design is by Julian Evans.

(Theater at St. Jean’s, 150 East 76th Street; OvationTix.com or (212) 935-5820; through January 2)

Photos by Carol Rosegg:

(Top): (left to right) Joseph Medeiros, Victoria Byrd, Phillip Attmore,Melanie Moore, Jeremy Benton, Kaitlyn Davidson.

(Below): (left to right) Joseph Medeiros, Melanie Moore,Jeremy

Benton, Kaitlyn Davidson, Phillip Attmore.

The Beast in the Jungle (Vineyard Theatre)

By Harry Forbes

The top-flight team that last brought us “The Scottsboro Boys” at the Vineyard -- composer John Kander, book writer David Thompson, and director/choreographer Susan Stroman -- have come up with something completely different on this occasion, a “dance play,” loosely based on Henry James’ novella, and updated to the present day.

The narrative -- which admittedly veers considerably from James’ more subtle tale -- charts how womanizing art dealer John Marcher (Tony Yazbek) meets May Bertram (Irina Dvorovenko), but each time he has the chance to surrender to love, a beast of his imagination (and spookily embodied here by some clever puppetry manipulated by the ensemble), prevents fulfillment.

They first meet in Naples and spend an idyllic day at the beach (until John’s demon gets in the way, that is), then 20 years later in England’s Cotswalds, by which time May is a noted photographer and married to a wealthy, gun-toting Englishman (excellent Teagle F. Bougere), and then, finally, three decades after that at an art gallery. The real beast is revealed to be nothing more than his fear of commitment.

The play begins with an elder Marcher, well played by Peter Friedman, visited by his nephew (Yazbek), a short story writer, who has just broken up with his girlfriend. Rather like the elderly Marchioness in Noel Coward’s “Bitter Sweet” advising the young lovers not to miss their chance for love, Marcher counsels his impulsive nephew to return to the girl he loves. And thus his own story unfolds.

Structurally, though, I thought the switch from rather prosaic spoken dialogue scenes -- including some jarringly un-Jamesian f-bombs -- to the wonderfully lyrical dancing didn’t quite gel. I think I’d have preferred the spoken portions delivered as sung recitative to maintain a more cohesive musical flow.

Yazbek, fresh from his show-stopping rendition of “The Right Girl” from “Follies” in Stroman’s “Prince of Broadway” is again superb as the young Marcher, dancing romantically or rhythmically and dramatically conveying his ardent romantic feelings and tortured fear of the beast. And he handles those framing present-day scenes as the bespectacled nephew with good contrast.

Irina Dvorovenko, so impressive recently in the Encores’ “Grand Hotel” as the lovelorn aging ballerina, is equally bewitching here, both dancing and acting, as her character ages over the decades. So, too, there’s wonderful chemistry between her and Yazbek.

John Kander’s musical score -- purely instrumental, no songs here -- consists of nothing but waltzes, and ranks with his best. I hope a CD may be coming. The nine-piece ensemble under the direction of David Loud plays the mesmerizing melodies most feelingly.

Stroman’s choreography is, as usual, ceaselessly inventive, and cleverly utilizes her terrific dancers -- Maira Barriga, Elizabeth Dugas, Leah Hofmann, Naomi Kakuk, Brittany Marcin Maschmeyer, and Erin N. Moore -- modelling their movements on Matisse’s “La Danse” (that painting having special significance to May). So they morph from the women with whom young John shamelessly flirts, to stately statuary on pedestals who magically come to life, to young ladies gamboling on the beach with scarves, to New York socialites. And there are further magical Stroman touches such as some witty sexual interplay on a picnic blanket, and May swimming into the sea to retrieve an unmoored skiff.

Though the story is rather somber, Stroman leavens the mood with many of these delightfully light moments.

Michael Curry’s costumes and elegantly spare but evocative settings, and Ben Stanton’s gorgeous lighting create pleasing visual imagery throughout. There’s a particularly striking criss-crossing of blue lights during an erotic pas de deux for the leads. Peter Hylenski’s sound design is also first-rate.

“Wasn’t it just beautiful?” an elderly lady asked me about a block from the theater when she saw the program in my hand, summarizing succinctly the general audience reaction.

(Vineyard Theatre, www.vineyardtheatre.org or by calling the box office at 212-353-0303; through June 17)

Photo by Carol Rosegg: Irina Dvorovenko and Tony Yazbeck