However,
if you seek anything more from a musical theatrical experience—such as
well-developed characters, understandable lyrics, a varied and complex score,
and a soupcon of wit—you may find this Phantom
redux a very hard slog. The producers have fashioned a dazzling, dizzying
production in the service of material that is so banal and predictable the
Phantom himself might be tempted to entirely cover his half-masked face and go
completely incognito.
It
all begins inauspiciously with the Phantom sitting morosely behind a scrim,
often facing upstage, and singing the dirge-like “’Till I Hear You Sing.”
Meanwhile, a single cold spotlight is trained on the audience, as if we’re in
an interrogation room and our lawyer hasn’t showed up yet.
After
that, there are plenty—nay, gobs—of color and lights swirling and spinning
across the stage, thanks to the set and costume design by Gabriela Tylesova..
But the story, such as it is, never gets off the ground.
When
we last saw the mysterious composer guy known as The Phantom, he had
disappeared from his underground lair at the Opera Populaire, the Paris opera
house. His love and muse Christine had just hustled out of there with her lover
Raoul, with Christine-wannabe Meg holding the Phantom’s mask in her hand.
Fast-forward
ten years to this play, set in 1915, where the same characters convene in, wait
for it, Coney Island. That’s where The Phantom, mask back in place, is
operating a circus-cum-amusement park called the Phantasma. And he has
maneuvered Christine, Raoul and their young son Gustave to visit America, in
hopes of rekindling his torrid, fog-drenched romance with Christine and her
voice that made his songs come alive.
Are
you tearing up yet? Well you will be, and probably for all the wrong reasons. Composer
Webber and his creative team, including Glenn Slater (lyrics) and Ben Felton
(book co-writer along with Webber, Slater and Frederick Forsyth) make a
half-hearted feint at storytelling and instead focus all their attention on
getting Phantom and Chris to sing loudly and frequently at each other. And boy,
do they sing! Gadar Thor Cortes as The Phantom has a bountiful and powerful
voice, as does Meghan Picerno who plays Christine. They are wonderful.
Trouble
is, the songs are mostly flat, agonizingly repetitive, and hard to follow. Even
though they’re singing in English, it would help if the lyrics were projected
onstage somewhere since words and phrases are often buried under an avalanche
of weepy, seepy orchestrations.
There are a couple exceptions, such as Christine’s Act Two showstopper
of the title song, staged in a profusion of gorgeous peacock feathers.
Sean
Thompson as Raoul and Mary Michael Patterson as Meg, each extremely talented,
also suffer from the same problems. Although at the beginning of the second
act, they share a scene in which the lyrics are actually distinct and
understandable in “Why Does She Love Me?” That is in part because some of the
words are spoken, not sung.
Another
critical problem with Love is that it
tales itself way too seriously. Minus the sultry mystery that infused the
original Phantom, this show
desperately needs a bit of humor to lighten the load. Indeed, there are no
laughs in the entire 2½ hour show, if you don’t count the titters occasioned by
the final death scene that plays with all the credibility of Sofia Coppola’s
unintentionally hilarious demise in Godfather
III.
A
trio of circus geeks is on hand to try and provide some levity. But thin and
creepy Gangle (Stephen Petrovich), fat and creepy Squelch (Richard Koons), and
short and creepy Fleck (Katrina Kemp, who is a Little Person) are not so much
funny as, well, creepy. And one wishes that Gangle and Squelch would leave poor
Fleck alone, as they are constantly lifting her up and swinging her about as if
she were a hand prop instead of a real person.
Under
the direction of Simon Phillips, the show is a misbegotten attempt to cash in
on the popularity of the Phantom
franchise. Too bad they didn’t follow their own advice as spelled out in “Why
Does She Love Me?” That’s when Meg counsels Raoul, “You should have never come
to America/It’s not a place for people like you and Christine.” Amen to that.
Love
Never Dies
Through
January 28 at Playhouse Square, Keybank State Theater, 1615 Euclid Ave.
216-241-6000, playhousesquare.com
