Review: THE MUSIC MAN Is Still Charming at Pittsburgh CLO

I'll admit, I had a huge smile on my face all the way through The Music Man that had little to nothing to do with the production itself. You see, I'm a nerd and a theatre kid in my thirties, and to that demographic, there was a cultural phenomenon just as big as Monty Python and Star Trek were to Gen X. I refer, of course, to the legendary ABC comedy variety show, Whose Line Is It Anyway. Seeing Charles Esten (who you may recall by his improv-era stage name Chip Esten) appear onstage and flash that memorable toothy grin for the first time, I felt like I was transported back to fifth grade again. This was just the first pleasure in an altogether lovely evening of theatre: the artistic equivalent of a good old-fashioned picnic.

The surprises are few but the nostalgic satisfaction is great in this production, gamely directed by Sara Edwards, choreographed by Mara Newberry Greer and Robert Neumeyer. Con artist Harold Hill (Charles Esten) comes to old-fashioned and staid River City circa 1912, intending to bilk the townspeople out of their money by promising a marching band he has no intention of delivering. Local librarin Marian Paroo (Nikki Renée Daniels) initially doubts him, but the will-they-won't-they romance blossoms when Hill ingratiates himself into the family, especially Marian's much younger brother Winthrop (Emmett Kent). Can love turn a huckster into a family man? Will Hill's deception be revealed? And does thinking about music really make you a better musician? Only time (and Act 2) will tell.

Charles Esten fits the role of Harold Hill like a glove; his years of experience juggling words at breakneck speed on Whose Line serve him equally well here. Watching him turn on the charm and move from an observer into a showman is a palpable pleasure. Opposite him, Nikki Renée Daniels seems poised to claim the title of "Pittsburgh's favorite soprano" with her Marian. After a similar ice-queen-thaws-to-mischief performance in Guys and Dolls, it's clear that if you need a grande dame with a hidden human side, no one does it better than Daniels. Hearing her float through "Goodnight My Someone" and "My White Knight," I remembered the now-neglected pleasure of a legit soprano in musical theatre.

As the Mayor, who would probably be a petty tyrant if anyone actually paid any attention to him, E. Clayton Cornelious is delightfully histrionic. Cornelious leads a cast of mostly Pittsburgh favorites, who populate River City with pleasant eccentrics. Christine Laitta, a Pittsburgh institution of her own, makes a meal of the Mayor's equally dramatic wife Eulalie, playing the role as a glowering, preening, low-comedy equivalent to Dame Maggie Smith as the Dowager Countess. Michael Greer, a recognizable face from numerous CLO Cabaret shows, gives traveling salesman Charlie Cowell a menacing swagger but matches it with an equal buffoonery. His puffed-up idiot persona is the perfect foil for Marion's wits. Greer is an effective physical performer, making Cowell's gait, double-takes and reactions an almost vaudevillian spectacle. Ryan Cavanaugh, almost unrecognizable behind a bushy beard, floats along lighter than air in the fleet-footed role of second banana Marcellus.

It's easy to forget that The Music Man is a big dance show, but there's a fair amount of musical theatre modern and ballet baked into the show's structure. The ensemble dancers are all fantastic, and attention must be paid in particular to Nick Alvino and Kammie Crum (both ensemblists from the recent Hugh Jackman/Sutton Foster revival of the show) as Tommy Djilas and Zanetta Shinn. They are passionate, athletic dancers and also genuinely funny character actors, and an extremely bright future is ahead for both of them.

Little bits of the show have changed here and there over the years. I'll never be a big fan of the new, anti-slut-shaming lyrics to "Shipoopi" (though I am a big fan of their contributors, Broadway's most joyfully un-woke writing team Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman). However, many of the other changes are in better taste, such as the dropping of some questionable racial humor and the removal of a "tarring and feathering gag." (Raise your hand if you thought it was just smearing a person with sticky goo and throwing feathers on them as a kid! Now raise your hand if you found out it was a potentially lethal torture that involves being burned alive as an adult!) Despite this, it's not like you can say The Music Man has lots its edge; it's never been a button-pushing or provocative piece, so much as a relatively cuddly one.

A final (and very welcome) observation: it's all too often that audiences have cause to cringe when attending a show with a large contingent of children in the cast. Not so this time! This is one of the tightest, most professional and polished children's choruses I have ever seen in any production. Whether it was the direction of Edwards and choreographhy of Newberry Greer, or the magic of Harold Hill's "think" system (which feels awfully modern in today's mindfulness and mantra culture), those kids kept it on point for all three hours of this old-school doorstopper of a song and dance show. That's as big a treat as any brass band. If you want a bit of old-fashioned musical theatre Americana, treat yourself to this slice of apple pie with a side of corn... after all, who says corny is always a bad word?

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