THE FEAR OF 13
by Lindsey Ferrentino
Directed by David Cromer
Starring Adrian Brody and Tessa Thompson
James Earl Jones Theatre
Official Website
and
SCHMIGADOON
Book, Music and Lyrics by Cinco Paul
Direction and Choreography by Christopher Gatelli
Nederlander Theatre
Official Website
A Rumination by David Spencer
Every now and again, I’d rather not review per se, but ruminate on a theme that certain shows suggest. And with these two shows, one came up. A friend of mine, who used to live in NYC, moved west about a decade ago. He returns with a fair amount of frequency, but he books his schedule tightly and he’s necessarily selective about what shows he chooses to see. We texted a few days ago. I mentioned that I had just seen The Fear of 13 and Schmigadoon. Naturally enough, he asked me if I thought them worth his time.
Before I get to my reply, let me give you the quick-and-dirty critical appraisal. Details you can find elsewhere, but broad strokes, yes indeed, they’re worth your time.
An American story by way of the West End—different production, same star—The Fear of 13. Is Lindsay Ferrentino’s dramatization of the same-named documentary by David Sington about a career criminal (Adrian Brody) on death row for a murder he didn’t commit, owing to his own stupidity (a false alibi for a robbery that backfires) and the long, slow fight for justice spearheaded by a visiting reporter (Tessa Thomson) who takes on his cause, in time falls for him and sticks with the fight for many exhausting years. I wouldn’t necessarily prioritize it, but nonetheless, it’s a very decent prison play, with a certain amount of quiet power, inventively staged by the ever-reliable deliverer of intent, tone and verisimilitude, David Cromer, and extremely well-acted.
A satire by way of a TV series, Schmigadoon, book, music and lyrics by the TV show’s co-writer and show-runner, Cinco Paul, finds two romantically involved doctors, whose relationship is on the rocks, suddenly trapped in a quaint Americana town where life is lived as a musical—put another wat, where musical comedy life is real life. And there’s no getting out until they can find true love. Though the setting evokes Meredith Willson’s early 20th century Americana of The Music Man, the score evokes musical theatre tropes of the ‘40s and ‘50s. Callimng it meta puts it mildly. Under the direction of and with choreography by Christopher Gatelli (choreographer of the TV series as well), it’s fast, funny and fun. Some are calling it the best musical of the season. I haven’t seen them all yet, so the jury in my head is still out—but it’s pretty good. I might prioritize this one.
That dutifully attended to. This only slightly tweaked for context, is what I texted my friend in reply to his question. For the record, I’m now 71. He’s a little older. (And yes, our texts can be this long.)
Certain kinds of storytelling have their time for theatre audience interest. I loved, loved, loved the powerful 1976 prison play The Poison Tree by one of the great, too-long undersung American playwrights, Ronald Ribman. The Fear of 13 is actually not as good a play, but just as well delivered, almost as engaging. Poison Tree got some terrific reviews, closed on the weekend. The publicity mechanisms are very different, 50 years later, so there’s that, and Fear of 13 comes in with West End pedigree and a box-office star, so there’s that too. But The Poison Tree had Moses Gunn, Dick Anthony Williams—and Cleavon Little, post-Blazing Saddles. And others of note. But there was no advance word, no advance sale, African American stars weren’t as consistently and in as many contexts the box office draw they are now…nor had audiences been prepared for it, the way they are now, after decades of legal dramas on TV, not to mention dedicated prison dramas: Oz, Orange is the New Black, Prisoner: Cell Block H. Wentworth. Fear of 13 will stick around, maybe even for its entire limited run, because the gestalt is primed for it.
I was crazy about the 1973 musical Smith (book, music and lyrics by Matt Dubey and Dean Fuller, Tony Hendra also on book)—meta before that was a term, about a dry, square botanist, who suddenly found himself trapped in a musical about his life (The Fabulous Adventures of Walter O. Smith, Botanist), and unable to get out of it until…well, basically until he found true love. It was at least as sharp and affectionate parody as Schigadoon, had some of the most explosive laughs I’ve ever heard at the theatre—and did something very brave: featuring Don Murray in the title role. Known asa straight-drama actor, film and TV leading man, not a naturally musical bone in his body—a wonderful actor but he could just about carry a tune. So when he finally “got with the program,” the transformation was wonderfully authentic because it was rough-hewn; he was embracing spirit, not acquiring technique. Lasted 17 performances after previews. Opened on a Saturday night, too, who the hell knows why. Stupid. Schmigadoon, about a couple trapped in a musical, same kind of story, very similar parody of tropes; you could literally swap one show for the other, exactly as effective, and but for a few era-specific lines here and there, you’d barely even notice the over half-century difference. Both shows, audience in the know went nuts. Why Schmig and not Smith? Smith was too soon. Too close to what was being parodied. Most crucially, the boomers hadn’t taken over; their reference points and seminal influences weren’t yet informing executive decisions. Nor did Smith have the engine of a TV series behind it, or the decades of media schooling that turned meta into a recognizable thing.
Same with certain other cultural touchpoints: the Town Hall musical theatre concert series opened brilliantly in 1977 with a nearly all-star She Loves Me, followed it less brilliantly with Knickertbocker Holiday, and was canceled before The Golden Apple, which had been scheduled as next. Then in 1994: Encores! at City Center.
Are 13 and Schmig worth seeing? Yes. Will you have a decent time? Yes. Will your being a little older than I temper your enthusiasm? Not fatally, but absolutely. New generations are rediscovering the wheel. Younger audiences marvel. We already know how it rotates.
[Pictured from The Poison Tree: Moses Gunn and Peter Masterson
Pictured from Smith: Virginia Sandifur and Don Murray]