Review: DIDN'T MAKE THE CUT Rescues Broadway's Cut Songs at The Green Room 42
Hear what got left out of musicals and cast albums in this concert of cuts.
A concert at The Green Room 42 on November 12, 2024 called Didn’t Make the Cut was a worthy reminder that songs that are written for musicals, but are no longer part of the score by opening night on Broadway can be worth excavating and salvaging – and even savoring. Performances of a plethora of these “rescues” made for a pretty intriguing endeavor, especially interesting if one knew the plots and scores of the shows in question very well, making it either quite understandable or puzzling why numbers were eliminated. I’ve always had a fascination with Broadway’s cut songs, some of which seem too weak to cut the mustard and others seem to be hastily buried gems that are a cut above pieces that survived. Belatedly discovering what was trimmed or recycled is akin to meeting long-lost disowned relatives of an established family. The reasons why things end up in the wastebasket can be fascinating, but this program didn’t go there with facts. Each singer followed the same unvarying terse spoken intro pattern: “Hello. My name is _____ (usually just a first name) and I’ll be singing “___________” which was cut from _________.” They were chosen via self-submitted video auditions by producer Anthony Cangiamila who joined the show as a performer, on the musical menu serving up a Waitress item, “Without a Believer.” He told me that 12 of the 17 chosen songs “do not have any public sheet music available so they were transcribed by ear and turned into sheet music by Andrew Geher." Accompaniment consisted of the skillful band members: Canaan J. Harris (music director/pianist); Kabir Adhiya- Kumar (drums), and Thomas E. Carley (bass).
As they are revamped and tweaked, the creative team of a musical hopes that it seems to “have been changed for the better… been changed ‘For Good,” to quote a key number we know from the phenomenally successful Wicked. Of course, its score is much in the air this month with the release of the film version. But, back in the day it was being groomed for its stage debut, it had its own changes. Included in the program was its rejected “Making Good,” but elements of this appealing song did not all melt away, as parts of its melodic and lyric content (the “unlimited” theme, the different meanings of “good”) ended up in the show we know. Natalia Vivino’s fine and fierce rendition highlighted the rock-solid aspects of this ancestor and let us consider what parts of it brought out the character more or less sharply than the familiar final pieces. It was an earnest, bold, BIG performance in a night that was overloaded with such assertive powerhouse “power ballad” turns. Unlike many of the belters, this singer wisely built up to the bombast, calibrating the climaxes, drama, and the declaiming. Others started off loud and intense, as if shot out of a cannon, and had little room to get to another level or have variety in dynamics and mood.
For me, the most successful and engaging participants were those who didn’t primarily just “sing their faces off” like there’s no tomorrow. Interpreting material and presenting a compelling character and situation sympathetically requires more than a roar, impressive as one’s vocal “chops” may be. Those who demonstrated a knack for nuances and shading, in addition to lungs aplenty included: Aidan Havens with a well-observed “Obvious,” intended for Dear Evan Hansen; “More to the Story,” which is a Shrek item that dazzling Kaileigh Fiorillo made a major highlight; and a disarming and deft delivery by Jacob Jackson with “The Truth About the Moon” written for Newsies, with bits of the score’s memorable “Santa Fe” theme present.
Many selections were very specific to the characters and stories they were created for, so the agenda seemed to be more about singing, presentationally, AS the character in the musical, as opposed to the “cabaret” approach of vocalists “being themselves” with lyrics that could be their own autobiographical thoughts. Jumping into the mindset and energy of a protagonist with impactful fearlessness was Sawyer Pollock, magnetic and believably owning “I’m Ready” (Bonnie and Clyde). He was more than ready to nail it. In a long night of solos, it was fun to have a group number with entertaining interaction, too: “Love and War” (Legally Blonde) with Brittany Smithson, Lussi Salmela, and Kennedy Thompson, plus the aforementioned Fiorillo as the lead (Elle).
The program would have benefited from more contrasts in style and tone, as it weighed heavily in favor of throbbing, sobbing, angsty, tough stuff. More in the categories of gentle ballads, cute or quirky comic relief, or sweet “charm songs” would provide valuable variety. A word-packed shopping list of a “list song” about products at “Costco” is an example of something refreshingly different, and was rattled off with brio by Brittany Smithson, and would have been a good choice as change of pace midway, rather than in the place it was – right after the opening number. The oldest musical represented was Carrie, from 1988; most were from this century. I thought that including some things from earlier, traditional “golden age” musical comedies would also broaden the scope. But I was more than glad for the opportunity to hear some little-known fare once part of well-known productions. New York City seems to have an endless supply of eager, big-voiced, young performers who give their all to showcase showtunes that could be forgotten.
In closing, I’d like to add some perspective for those skeptical about cut songs being worth exploration, whose reflex reaction is “It must be bad if it was cut,” as well as for those who want to dig deeper as dumpster divers, here’s some perspective: Sometimes there’s treasure in the trash and something discarded is distinguished. As musicals are being developed, workshopped, previewed, rehearsed, rethought, and revised, songs disappear. But it doesn’t mean they wouldn’t seem quite fine as stand-alone pieces. Changes in a gestating show’s tone, focus, or plot may make an intended number, in context, no longer a good fit for the moment or the character or performer. Maybe it was too complex for a preview audience to digest, seemed redundant or extraneous, slowed up the momentum, etc. A series of CDs titled Lost in Boston curated examples of things cut in tryouts. The classic “The Man I Love” by the Gershwins is a famous example of “roadkill” that became a standard nonetheless and in the world of musical films, good stuff ends up on the cutting room floor, sometimes resurfacing as special bonuses on home video/DVD releases; those from Disney are full of them. And if cooler heads and hot tempers of the songwriters hadn’t prevailed, “Over the Rainbow” would have been tossed out of The Wizard of Oz when screened for the powers that be!
Visit https://thegreenroom42.venuetix.com/ for more upcoming shows there.
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