Review: Sweating Bullets at BULLETS OVER BROADWAY to Little Effect

Several years ago, Marvin Hamlisch and Craig Carnelia announced their intent to musicalize Woody Allen's backstage comedy BULLETS OVER BROADWAY. One can almost hear the bouncy, off-beat Roaring Twenties pastiches just at the thought of it. Alas, when Woody Allen decided to take a go at it himself, he peppered his work with actual period songs. The result - now playing a tour stop in Chicago after a short run on Broadway - ironically makes for a less-than-authentic old-fashioned musical comedy experience than expected.

It seems odd that someone as infamously reclusive as Allen would want to dip his toes into this highly collaborative art form, and having no songwriters or co-writers of any kind to challenge him didn't help any. (He co-wrote the film's screenplay with BEAUTIFUL writer Douglas McGrath, whose involvement extends no further than the "based on" credit.) Perhaps the 2014 Tony committee nominated his book to coax him into attending the ceremony. It certainly couldn't have been a nod to quality, because nothing sits quite right, not even Allen's apparent gift for one-liners. And when that's discernible in a musical about things that go wrong at every turn, something is up.

It's a solid-enough premise for good-ol'-fashioned fun, especially given the shades of shady doings depicted in a certain musical by Allen's contemporary, Mel Brooks. Playwright David Shayne (Michael Williams) finally lands a Broadway production for his newest (albeit inscrutable) play. David wears that inscrutability proudly, though, and refuses to compromise his art. (Woody Allen proxy?) Shenanigans - and compromise after compromise - ensue, chiefly involving the untalented bimbo Olive (Jemma Jane) forced into a major role by her sugar daddy, financier/mob boss Nick Valenti (Michael Corvino), and guarded by the boss's chief enforcer-turned-dramaturge and ghostwriter Cheech (Jeff Brooks). And that's just offstage; there's also the menagerie of actors to contend with: dipsomaniacal diva Helen Sinclair (Emma Stratton); Warner (Bradley Allan Zarr), who possesses a healthy appetite, and Eden (Rachel Bahler), a dog-loving, Pig Latin-speaking fruit loop.

Fascinating characters, all. Now, what to do with them...

Allen's strengths as an artist lie in character, and his situation is as perfect as a backstage situational comedy can allow. But the union here is less than the sum of its parts. Film plotting and musical comedy plotting are different beasts; there comes a point when a light premise that's airtight in a ninety-minute film deflates with an additional hour's run time, and the focus of a camera has to be broadened somewhat to play to the balcony. Hence, characters meant to read as charmingly neurotic are just thinly drawn and archetypal, and plot turns just sorta come and go, which forces Allen into finding a way to untie complications that fizzed away eons ago, which results in his inevitable surrender.

Let it be known, though, that the finale, "Yes, We Have No Bananas," is as tuneful a surrender as any.

To his credit, Allen, a jazz enthusiast and musician, leans towards obscurities over standards (whose long-dead writers definitely can't challenge him). These are songs that can more easily accommodate arranger Glen Kelly's plot-relating ghostwriting. (The arrangements by Doug Besterman and Andy Einhorn are fetching.) And occasionally, he comes across a good juxtaposition, like Cheech's "Up a Lazy River," as in the canal into which he deposits his targets. But on the whole, Allen's lack of skill in song placement and allocation deflates their rat-a-tat-tat energy. For instance, David, the nominal audience surrogate, doesn't get a song until about ten, fifteen minutes in; Nick, his mob, and Olive get the opening number instead. In other words, the complication (Nick, wanting to please Olive, shoehorns her into David's play) is introduced before the plot (David has a play) actually starts. There may not be hard-and-fast rules for musical comedy, but you know disorder when you see it.

However, in choosing his one collaborator, Allen chose the Queen of Good Ol' Fashioned Musical Comedy, Susan Stroman. (Her direction and choreography are recreated here by Jeff Whiting and Clare Cook, respectively.) She really knows how to dress a stage in flappers, showgirls, and gangsters, and the physical energy never flags. She has a knack for props and tricks, such as the bouncing furniture in "Let's Misbehave." And she knows tap. And how. Cheech and the gangsters' "Tain't Nobody's Bizness If I Do" is the undisputed highlight of the production.

The (very, very) green cast acquit themselves, even given the limitations of the writing. Throughout, Michael Williams' manicness is never far away (which makes his song "The Panic is On" somewhat redundant), but he has the chops of a good comedic straight man. Emma Stratton may be decades too young to play the over-the-hill diva proper, but her Helen Sinclair makes an extravagant feast out of table scraps. The show, however, is firmly in Cheech's pinstriped pocket. Jeff Brooks pulls off the Allenian balance of reality and quirk - he's a credible mug, for sure, but his newfound knack for dramaturgy is also a credible twist on the character mold, and his morphing into David's uncompromising foil makes for successful comedy.

The cast will have plenty more opportunities, for sure, but it's unlikely BULLETS will. The big good ol'-fashioned Broadway musical comedy that could've been, but wasn't and probably never will be, this budget production (non-Equity cast, minimal set pieces) seems like a last bid to maximize its profit before facing an uncertain future in licensing. Woody Allen may be a bankable name, and he has a respectable filmography to look back on and to look forward to, but BULLETS the musical, his one dalliance into musical theater, is definitely not top-dollar.

BULLETS OVER BROADWAY continues through May 1st at the PrivateBank Theatre, 18 W Monroe St. Tickets range from $19-85. Tickets are available at Broadway in Chicago box offices (24 W Randolph St; 151 W Randolph St, 18 W Monroe St, and 175 E Chestnut); by calling (800) 775-2000; Ticketmaster retail locations; or by visiting BroadwayInChicago.com.

Photo credit: Margie Korshak Images

To post a comment, you must register and login.