ReDISCoveries: Kiss of the Spider Woman (1994 Broadway Cast Recording) Part 2

ReDISCoveries: Kiss of the Spider Woman

(1994 Broadway Cast Recording) Part 2

Jeff has kindly invited me to revisit and review some of the older cast recordings in my collection. Every other week or so, I’ll write about a new CD, offering some general impressions followed by my thoughts about each individual song. This week’s entry is about the 1994 Broadway recording of Kander and Ebb’s Kiss of the Spider Woman.

One of the most striking things about Kiss of the Spider Woman is how much of it revolves around the fantasies of its two main male characters. Molina, of course, has organized his entire life around his memories of all those Aurora movies; it’s how he has survived a barren life both before and after being imprisoned. Although Valentin’s fantasies are less flamboyant, he, too, gets through life indulging in memories of his girlfriend Marta, his first lover, and his political rallies - all vividly recounted in musical numbers.

In fact, until the very end of the show, there is little traditional plot development and there are very few “real” characters aside from the prisoners and the warden. Not only Aurora but also Molina’s mother, his friend Gabriel, and Marta are seen almost exclusively through the cellmates’ dreams and fantasies (each one does appear for a few seconds during Molina’s brief moment of freedom late in the show). In the grand tradition of Kander and Ebb’s highly conceptual musicals, the show builds vibrancy, excitement, and momentum not through sophisticated plot but through the dramatic interplay of corporeal characters and ethereal memories.

When I was talking about this with Jeff recently, he pointed out how Molina and Valentin essentially switch roles during the course of the show with regard to the importance of fantasy vs. real-world action. At the start of the show, of course, Molina is entirely engrossed in his movies, while Valentin is a political radical imprisoned for his active engagement in the outside world. This begins to shift as each of them share their dreams and experiences. By the time we get to the “Russian movie” scene, each one has come to fully appreciate the other’s perspective: Valentin is a willing participant in one of Molina’s movie fantasies, but the theme of the movie itself reflects Valentin’s own political identity. 

By the end of the show, the transformation is complete: it’s Molina who, inspired by Valentin’s affection, goes out into the world to accomplish something concrete; upon Molina’s return, Valentin betrays his own romantic fantasies when he begs Molina to save himself by telling what he knows. When Molina refuses to do so and is killed, Valentin’s spontaneous memorial (“his name was Molina”) precisely reflects Molina’s first words in the show (“her name is Aurora”).

THE SONGS

I use a star (*) to mark the songs I particularly like, and my overall favorite gets two

stars (**). This CD includes a few brief dialogue scenes, some with small bits of music; these aren’t listed separately below.

*I Do Miracles: With its leaping central motive (repeated by singers and orchestra alike) and its fitful chromatic melody, this song is another one of my favorites. (I sometimes forget how many favorites there are in this show!) Here, Aurora (Vanessa Williams) comes to Molina (Howard McGillin) to promise help for Valentin (Brian Stokes Mitchell), who then hears the same promise from Marta (Kirsti Carnahan). When the two women sing the tune together, it’s pure heaven.

Gabriel’s Letter/My First Woman: The cellmates each reminisce about their past, Molina about a straight retail worker (Jerry Christakos) he became enamored with (and who we will learn later is not as tolerant in reality as in Molina’s memory), and Valentin about his first sexual experience.

Morphine Tango: In what is surely K&E’s trippiest song, medical aides administer morphine to Molina, who has eaten poisoned food intended for Valentin. This little song leads directly to…

You Could Never Shame Me: In this gentle foxtrot, we hear the pure distillation of maternal love, as Molina’s mother (Mimi Turque) - or his image of her - assures him of her affection and pride. This quickly gives way to…

A Visit: The return of the cascading Spider Woman chords tells us that Aurora is appearing to Molina as his most dreaded character. Tellingly, she makes death seem like an erotic experience to be warmly anticipated - but it’s not time yet.

She’s a Woman: I’m not sure what to say about this song, which means of course that I’ll say a ton about it. On the one hand, the song itself is evocative and engaging, and it gives McGillin his clearest shot to show off his incredible skills as an actor-vocalist (that’s reason enough to justify its existence). On the other hand, it stops the plot cold just when the tension is starting to build. 

I’ve gone through several phases with this song: as a 20-something, I thought it was just a pleasant bit of fluff that should be cut; somewhat later on, I thought it was emblematic of the widespread public confusion about the difference between gay people, transgender people, and cross-dressers (which I now realize is implausible given the show’s creative team). These days, I think it was an attempt to flesh out Molina’s tacit self-identity as a transgender woman, which I understand was fairly clear in Manuel Puig’s novel (which I haven’t read). That’s an awfully big weight to put on one song, and I still don’t think it’s necessary for the show to do that, but I’m glad it’s there nonetheless.

Gimme Love: Aurora states her personal credo in the title of another raucous “imaginary” number for her and her men. Its conclusion leaves Molina in a state of turmoil as the first act ends. It is a nice bonus that this song is more complete than the original, providing more of the thrilling dance music in the score.

Russian Movie/Good Times: Aurora plays against-type as a Russian countess in this long, complex number. As Molina nurses Valentin after a murder attempt, he narrates the plot of his favorite movie, with appearances by the cellmates themselves in a story that will presage the show’s final moments. Valentin, about a dying Aurora: “this is not death; this is ecstasy.” 

The Day After That: In return for Molina’s kindness, Valentin opens up to him about his life and what has led him to be a political radical, in this stirring song that develops into an imagined workers’ rally. 

Mama, It’s Me: The warden (Herndon Lackey) allows Molina to speak on the telephone to his mother, whose health is failing, which he does in this short and sweet little song. He learns he will be freed soon.

Anything For Him: The Spider Woman and her chords are back, as the warden and Valentin begin to ensnare Molina in their separate traps, which she knows will lead him into her web for a final kiss. The melody here is obsessive and repetitious as the scheming unfolds, culminating with Valentin’s offer of sex that he knows will help persuade Molina to deliver a message for him when he’s released.

**Kiss of the Spider Woman: This song, which finally brings together musical themes that have been heard separately earlier in the score, gives the star her best opportunity to show off her vocal and physical abilities. The evocative and pliant accompaniment, the dramatic pauses, the surprise modal shift at the end - not to mention Williams’ bravura performance - gang up to make this a title song for the books.

Lucky Molina/Over the Wall: The prisoners express their jealousy over Molina’s escape as the warden watches him fulfill his own scheme to use Molina to discover Valentin’s secrets. Molina visits his mother, his work friend, and Gabriel, but finds his old life unsatisfying after his intimate encounter with Valentin; finally, he calls an unreceptive Marta with an encoded message from her lover. (This song was not included on the original recording, and its presence helps significantly in clarifying the show’s climax.)

*Only in the Movies: Molina is caught and brought back to prison, where the warden threatens to kill him if he doesn’t tell what he knows. Despite Valentin’s exhortations, Molina refuses to betray his beloved and is shot. Suddenly Molina himself is in a cinematic pastiche as he recalls what he’s gained and lost by living his life as if it were a movie, and how Valentin’s affection has redeemed him at the last possible moment - all with his own Hollywood ensemble for accompaniment. Who would have thought something so fanciful would be the perfect ending to such a brutal story?

 

ReDISCoveries: Kiss of the Spider Woman (1994 Broadway Cast Recording): Part One

ReDISCoveries: Kiss of the Spider Woman

(1994 Broadway Cast Recording): Part One

Jeff has kindly invited me to revisit and review some of the older cast recordings in my collection. Every other week or so, I’ll write about a new CD, offering some general impressions followed by my thoughts about each individual song. This week’s entry is about the 1994 Broadway recording of Kander and Ebb’s Kiss of the Spider Woman. (Note from Jeff: I decided to divide Mike's thorough work into two parts, though it is not divided by acts.)

Although I played Herr Schultz in a college production of Cabaret, it wasn’t until I first listened to my Kiss of the Spider Woman CD that I truly became a Kander and Ebb enthusiast. Almost every song was exhilarating, positively buzzing with energy, dripping with pathos, or both at the same time. Not only that, these songs formed a cohesive and satisfying whole, making it easy to follow the story of the show just from the songs. (This is a credit to Terrence McNally’s carefully plotted book, even if little of his snappy dialog is on the recording.) A little later I got to see the Broadway show on stage and was not disappointed, despite the vocal struggles of the actress then playing the title role. Since that time my appreciation for the show, and for its iconic writing team, has only grown.

For the record, the CD that so impressed me back then was the original cast recording,  made in London and featuring Tony-winner Chita Rivera in the title role. Today I’ll be taking a look at its New York successor, made after Vanessa Williams took over the role, instantly making the show her own. To be honest, both are amazing recordings and fine representations of the show, and in some ways very similar of course, but definitely two separate listening experiences. Both interpretations of the main role include moments of bulldozing menace as well as sweet manipulation, but Rivera leans much more heavily towards the former and Williams the latter. 

In the end, I chose to take another look at the Williams version because I’ve listened to it a lot less than the original, so it’s a little easier to hear things with a fresh brain. It’s also a more definitive account of the show itself, since it includes an additional song and incorporates small changes that were made to the show for Broadway. 

The plot centers on two cellmates in a South American prison: Molina, a queer window-dresser, and Valentin, a political radical. Molina survives through memories of his favorite movie star, Aurora, though he hates the role of the Spider Woman, whose kiss is inevitably fatal. After a difficult start, the cellmates eventually bond. When Molina is released, Valentin manipulates him into delivering a message for his collaborators, but the warden has set a trap that leads to Molina choosing to give up his own life rather than betray Valentin. Molina finally accepts the Spider Woman’s kiss without objection.

THE SONGS

I use a star (*) to mark the songs I particularly like, and my overall favorite gets two

stars (**). This CD includes a few brief dialogue scenes, some with small bits of music; these aren’t listed separately below.

Prologue: A beguiling sequence of diaphanous chords, which will characterize the Spider Woman throughout the show, alternates with the seductive exhortations of the title character herself (Vanessa Williams), and we immediately know we’re in expert hands with the score and with its leading lady. The bliss doesn’t last, though: we’re quickly thrown into the jagged musical terrain of the prison, where the screams of inmates give way to the warden’s (Herndon Lackey) introduction of Valentin (Brian Stokes Mitchell). A brief long-distance preview of the title song concludes this swift but highly evocative opening sequence.

 

I don’t know if anyone else has ever noticed this, but those downward-cascading chords from the start of the Prologue have always reminded me (a lot) of a similar sequence of chords in the Presentation of the Rose scene from Richard Strauss’ opera Der Rosenkavalier (heard at about twenty seconds and repeatedly throughout). In that scene the music is meant to evoke the feeling of love at first sight, and the chords are shimmering rather than disorienting.

Her Name is Aurora: Molina’s (Howard McGillin) lyrical and prayer-like verse introduces us to his cinematic heroine, Aurora, leading directly to her first production number with her male retinue. This one is sultry and lithely flowing; the lyrics promise love but also something less pleasant, a mysterious “loud piercing sound.” (There’s a brief, sexy-sounding viola solo that I’ve always loved in this number.) 

Over the Wall I: The three different songs with this title all function to give us a look at things from the prisoners’ perspective. Here, they list the things that they loved on the other side of the prison wall, with increasingly exalted music - until it all stops, and a solitary, unaccompanied voice wonders if he’ll ever see any of this again. It’s a very succinct way to musicalize the inmates’ misery and isolation.

And the Moon Grows Dimmer: This is another little snippet from the title song, foreshadowing the web that will slowly entrap Molina.

Bluebloods: Molina uses this little ditty as an icebreaker, trying to get his cellmate to talk to him; he’s rebuffed but keeps trying.

*Dressing Them Up: This ridiculously catchy song makes it impossible not to root for Molina as he tries to win Valentin over. Ebb’s clever wordplay and striking rhymes are a great match for Kander’s tunefulness here. (This might be a good time to point out one thing I do prefer about the original recording, which is the orchestral sound. I’m not sure, but I think it’s a combination of the orchestration itself and the sound engineering; either way, as is particularly apparent in this song, the wind accompaniment “pops” on the original recording in a way that it doesn’t on this one.)

I Draw the Line: Valentin, however, continues to resist Molina’s charms, rebuffing him again by dividing up the cell à la I Love Lucy.

**Dear One: The cellmates have discovered that they do have something in common: they each desperately miss the woman in their lives. In this ravishingly beautiful quartet, Molina, his mother (Mimi Turque), Valentin, and his girlfriend Marta (Kirsti Carnahan) bare their musical souls in an outpouring of loneliness and longing. This may not exactly be a quintessential Kander and Ebb song, but it is my favorite among the many that I’ve heard (there are still many that I haven’t). 

Over the Wall II: Earthier and more spirited than the first song of this name, the prisoners here wonder if their friends and family are remaining faithful or screwing them over in various ways. 

*Where You Are: This bouncy and brassy number for Aurora and her men is another contender for one of K&E’s best (and one which is much more typical of their style). With its rangy melody and surprise dynamic shifts, its energy is infectious - which is exactly why Molina is able to use it to help Valentin share in his favorite form of escapism. 

Marta: Valentin finally gets his own solo with this slowly simmering torch song. The simple, affecting melody gradually builds up steam with a dramatic key change, crescendos, and help from the chorus of prisoners, ending, like the first “Over the Wall,” with the plaintive observation: “I wonder if I’ll ever see them again.” With its booming climax and soft ending, the melody really gives Stokes an opportunity to shine, and he does not disappoint. 

Look for Part Two of this article in two weeks!

REVIEW: Parade (2023 Revival Cast Recording)

REVIEW: Parade 
(2023 Broadway Revival Cast Recording)

That Jason Robert Brown's Tony-winning score for Parade was worthy and wonderful back in 1999 was never seriously in doubt. But this 2023 Broadway Revival Cast Recording solidifies its place in Broadway history as one of the great scores of the 20th century. And what makes this recording an invaluable addition to any musical theater fan's collection is the exquisite sound quality and uniformly sterling performances of the entire company. The orchestrations by Brown and the late great Don Sebesky are as much the star of this recording as anything else.

It is when - every single time - the company sings as one that just listening to it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, while my mind swirls with the memories of witnessing this first hand several weeks ago. "The Old Red Hills of Home" alone makes this recording a must-have. Even as a supporting group of back up singers, the company wows time and again with their stunning choral mix, superb diction and overwhelming emotion.

Led by Ben Platt as Leo Frank, and Micaela Diamond as his wife, Lucille Frank, this definitive recording is in excellent hands. Neither over-indulge in any self-aggrandizing in their vocals here. Instead, wonderfully, they each give complete performances as meticulously acted as they are sung. Platt surely shows his most mature and thoughtful work here, from the contemplative "How Can I Call This Home?" to the sinister "Come Up to My Office" to the tragic "Sh'ma." His emotional range is awesome, in the truest sense of the word. Meanwhile, Diamond gives a heartbreaking, sturdy turn as a dutiful wife turned heroine. Her solo numbers "You Don't Know This Man" and "Do It Alone" are nothing short of masterful, full-blown arias, perhaps even more powerful here than in theatrical performance. That said, the recording nearly explodes in musical glory in their two showpiece duets, "This Is Not Over Yet" and "All the Wasted Time." Both songs and their singers are stunning and sublime.

So many individual cast members get their moments to shine on this perfect companion piece to the production. Each individual is a stand-out, for sure, but for me, here are the stand-outs that really stand out:

• Charlie Webb (Young Soldier) who starts the whole recording with the powerful opening to "The Old Red Hills of Home," a combination of heroic determination, wistful loneliness, and a touching undercurrent of fear.
• Howard McGillin (Old Soldier) stuns in the years later end of that same song, with fierce pride, a sad longing, and a touching undercurrent of failure. Later, as Judge Roan, he is powerful, if misguided, in "The Glory."
• Paul Alexander Nolan (Hugh Dorsey) impresses throughout, especially in "Somethin' Ain't Right" where his ambition is at old with his ineptitude. And his duet with McGillin, "The Glory," is a startling reminder of today's political climate.
• Alex Joseph Grayson (Jim Conley) is truly chilling and brazen in his chain gang number, "Blues: Feel the Rain Fall." This is a performance I won't soon forget.
• Douglas Lyons (Riley) and Courtnee Carter (Angela) start Act Two off with a wry and pointed delivery about the pecking order of social (in)justice with "A Rumblin' and a Rollin'."

There are two performances here, though, that are superlative and give me great hope for the future of American musical theatre: Jake Pederson (Frankie Epps) and Erin Rose Doyle (Mary Phagan), both of whom made their Broadway debuts in Parade. Pederson's journey from love-struck hayseed - as evidenced by his thick Southern drawl in "The Picture Show" - to a radicalized rebel is a shocking one. You can hear him mature - as evidenced by his much less severe drawl that helps reveal his growing anger in both "There Is a Fountain/It Don't Make Sense" and "Frankie's Testimony." On just the recording alone, he amazes. Perhaps even more miraculous is that Doyle makes such an impression with as little time as she has on this recording - her role in the show is a much larger presence. Yet her teasing joy in "The Picture Show" only makes her journey even more tragic with her haunting delivery during "Frankie's Testimony." Notable, too, is that even on the recording, you can feel her presence in "The Factory Girls/Come Up to My Office."

I don't think I'll ever be able to put fully into words the profundity of the impact that this production has had on me. Rarely a day goes by that I don't think about it. I - and you - should be thankful that this masterpiece has been preserved.

REVIEW: Parade

Review of the matinee performance on Saturday, June 3, 2023 at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre in New York City. Starring Ben Platt, Micaela Diamond, Alex Joseph Grayson, Sean Allan Krill, Howard McGillin, Paul Alexander Nolan, Jay Armstrong Johnson, Manoel Felciano, Kelli Barrett, Aurelia Williams, Eddie Cooper, Erin Rose Doyle, Danielle Lee Greaves, Douglas Lyons, Jake Pederson. Book by Alfred Uhry. Music and Lyrics by Jason Robert Brown. Orchestrations by Don Sebesky and Jason Robert Brown. Co-conceived by Harold Prince. Scenic design by Dane Lafferty. Costume design by Susan Hilfery. Lighting design by Heather Gilbert. Sound design by Jon Weston. Projection design by Sven Ortel. Choreography by Lauren Yalango-Grant and Christopher Cree Grant. Direction by Michael Arden. 2 hours, 30 minutes including one intermission. Closes August 6, 2023.

Grade: A+

The original production of Parade was award-winning, yet short-lived, and like many challenging pieces, it was ahead of its time. For better or for worse, now is the perfect time for a moment of history so beautifully, horrifyingly captured by Jason Robert Brown and Alfred Uhry's masterwork. Now heading into its final two months of a limited engagement, this stunning, important production is not to be missed. 

Helmed by Tony nominee Michael Arden (and choreographed by Lauren Yalango-Grant and Christopher Cree Grant), this musical is tight and fat-free. Not a single moment is wasted - every second is in service to the compelling events of the book and its themes. The red, white and blue of the Confederate, Georgian and American flags are literally in your face throughout, fraught with deadly emotion masquerading as patriotism, and frightening in its ever-changing meaning. Act one is particularly maddening in its nearly bias-free presentation - just the facts, the politics, the belief systems, boldly portrayed as if we are only to observe, then draw our own conclusions. It is ugly and difficult. Even during several thrilling flashbacks, we see only what we are allowed to see, interpreted by those who lived it. It is only when the trial begins and in its aftermath, that we are allowed to make connections between truth and lies, justice and power, life and death. Arden carefully doled out the emotions up to this point, then opened the flood gates during act two. 

The presentational style of this staging is breathtaking throughout, aided by a fully realized physical production. Dane Lafferty's austere wood-planked platform festooned with patriotic bunting, and surrounded by a variety of period chairs for the citizenry of Georgia to observe (and often look away), fairly reeks of Americana. It is not a good smell. The projections, brilliantly curated and presented by Sven Ortel, are stunning and provide real faces with the names of all those involved - a constant reminder that what we are watching happened in real places with real people. Often it struck me that, as these are largely black and white portraits, all seemed like wanted posters. Heather Gilbert's lighting, moody and sometimes harsh definitely added to experience, most notably for its lack of subtlety (in this case a good thing), and Jon Weston's sound design was perfection. The costumes by Susan Hilferty, historically accurate down to the buttons and hairpins, had the feel of both a living museum and sepia-toned camera readiness. The look and sound of the whole thing was as wondrous as the performance itself.

Much like the now-historic Encores! Chicago, and this season's Into the Woods,  this transfer to Broadway includes a cast of all-stars and exciting up and coming talent - a wonderful by-product of such a move. To that end, this company is top-notch from above-the-title stars to the swings and understudies. The supporting ensemble - aces, all - includes such stand-outs as Charlie Webb as the Young Soldier, who opens the show with a gorgeous rendering of "The Old Red Hills of Home." The factory girls are played by Sophie Manicone, Ashlyn Maddox, and Emily Rose DeMartino, and "The Factory Girls/Come Up to My Office" was a chillingly executed scene. Their haunting, broken innocence was uncomfortable and sad to watch. 

No one in Southern society escapes the machinations of the events portrayed in Uhry's book. The duplicity of life for African Americans shows up in many forms, from the brutally honest and wry "A Rumblin' and a Rollin'" act two opener, delightfully delivered by Douglas Lyons and Aurelia Williams, as staff in the Governor's mansion. The guilty until proven innocent reality of life portrayed with a world-weariness by Eddie Cooper as the accused janitor, and the guilt of betrayal of the Frank's maid poignantly played by Danielle Lee Greaves both captured their moments perfectly. Alex Joseph Grayson's bravado and arrogance as escaped convict, now murder suspect Jim Conley, is jaw-dropping in its intensity. His chain gang number, "Blues: Feel the Rain Fall," deservedly brings down the house. He is simply stunning, and someone I look forward to seeing again soon.

Stacie Bono, as the First Lady of Georgia, and Kelli Barrett, as the murder victim's mother, offered strong depictions of women on each end of the economic spectrum. Mary Phagan, the murdered young girl, was played with a coy and ethereal presence by Erin Rose Doyle, while Jake Pederson as Frankie Epps morphed from an awkward, smitten teen into a seething, impressionable rebel with frightening ease. I see wonderful careers ahead for both Ms. Doyle and Mr. Pederson, both making their Broadway Debuts here.

Scary in its parallels to the current state of our country, the confluence of far-right politics and religion are on full display here, as embodied by Georgia Governor Slaton (Sean Allan Krill), Judge Roan (Howard McGillin), Hugh Dorsey (Paul Alexander Nolan), and Reverend Tom Watson (Manoel Felciano). How these events are so much like what is going on today is mind blowing. All four Broadway veterans are bringing their A-game here: Felciano's fiery righteousness is horrifying, Krill has never been better in a truly challenging role, McGillin is in fine voice and grand stature, and it is great to see Nolan in a role and production worthy of his talents. (His duet with Mr. McGillin, "The Glory," is a highlight.) Finally, Jay Armstrong Johnson plays the journalist-as-showman role with a seedy fervor recognizable from many a modern news channel today. 

I knew from the moment I saw her in The Cher Show, that Micaela Diamond was going to be a force to be reckoned with. But nothing prepared me for her earth-moving triumph here. Brilliant in its specificity and attention to the smallest of details, her performance as Lucille Frank sets a new standard. Often rigid and unmovable, her Lucille is a force, albeit a stoic one at first. The result is a feeling of detached loneliness. One wonders if this woman actually loves her husband. Slowly, the layers peel back, and when she gets to "You Don't Know This Man," the near explosion of emotion grabs you by the throat. The exhilaration of "This Is Not Over Yet" is a jolt of empowerment, but her tour-de-force moment is one of the last of the show. The picnic scene brought me to tears, with her unwavering strength and belief that all will turn out well. She is heartbreaking.

From that picnic scene through the soul-crushing finale, Ben Platt had me completely won over. What an absolute revelation his performance here is. His unnerving calm in the face of impending doom, followed by a resolute coming to terms with Frank's ultimate demise, was by turns maddening and cathartic. A complete and full performance, I am at a loss still as to how to reconcile what I saw. Whether he was reenacting how it wasn't at his office that day, or that gorgeous picnic scene with Ms. Diamond as they blew the audience away with "All the Wasted Time," or the desperation of needing to die with dignity, Mr. Platt gives a performance for the ages. 

There simply aren't enough adjectives or words that even do justice to the magnitude of this production. All I can think of is "thank you." Every one of you.

📸: M. Klein, J. Marcus