MRS. DOUBTFIRE
Book by Karey Kirpatrick and John O’Farrell
Music and Lyrics by Wayne and Carey Kirkpatrick
Based on the film of the same name
Screenplay by Randi Mayem Singer and Leslie Dixon
from the novel Alias Madame Doubtfire by Anne Fine
Starring Rob McClure
Stephen Sondheim Theatre
Official Website
Reviewed by David Spencer
You will often hear a hue and cry from musical theatre observers about the lack of shows that are total originals. As a practitioner who’s had some limited but happy, hard won success mixed in with the development-related ups and downs of disappointment and vindication, it’s not a plaint I can take too seriously, much as I understand it. It’s not that originals are impossible; it’s that they’re almost impossible; at least they are if you want them to have the kind of significant thematic, humanistic depth and resonance that makes them enter the literature and last for decades. Characters and narrative need to be conceived so fully and dimensionally—or fully and dimensionally enough—that the score built upon them can have richness to match. Adaptations are attractive and practical because the world building and character profiles of a worthy property are full enough for the source iteration and inspiring enough to trigger song-think on a higher level almost from the start. I think it might be safe to say that even most of the best original musicals are based on something that pre-existed, unproduced or unexploited: In Sondheim’s oeuvre alone, Company was triggered by a series of related one act plays about marriage by George Furth (Bobby was created as the linking device); Pacific Overtures had its roots in a straight play by John Weidman whose ideas Hal Prince thought better musicalized; Sunday in the Park with George was extrapolated from the sketchy details (no pun intended) of the life of an artist, and the vivid details of his most famous work…and etc.
No, adaptation is a perfectly fine launching point.
Even adaptations of films (another plaint).
But I think that perhaps the trend that’s a little more concerning is the one that favors the exploitation of any contemporary film comedy that became a hit. We’ve seen it happen with Pretty Women, Kinky Boots, Tootsie, 9 to 5 and others, with varying degrees of artistic and box office success. And I’ll be the first to say that, done right, they can be enormous fun. Offhand, though, I can think of only one that became a classic: The Producers…and that one’s something of an outlier because of its idiosyncratic provenance and the fact that Mel Brooks was still at the reins. (A magic trick that, as the agreeable but wanting Young Frankenstein proves, even he couldn’t pull off twice.)
And here, I think, is the reason.
They’re not necessary. The movies are perfectly fine as they are. They work.
And it was Oscar Hammerstein II’s dictum that the best properties to adapt are those which almost work. “Almost work” is in the eye of the potential adapter, I suppose, but to oversimplify a complex concept, it comes down to a story and characters that somehow need the elevation of musical theatre to fulfill them; to transform them.
And I would argue that if the ability to be transformed isn’t endemic to the material…if the end result will just be a different, and if you’re lucky a bit better, version of the same thing…the plaint is perhaps justified.
Which brings us to Mrs. Doubtfire.
Most of us know the story even if we haven’t seen the film. Based on a popular young adult novel by British author Anne Fine (the musical credits neither she nor the subsequent screenwriters), it’s about an actor, Daniel Hillard (Rob McClure) who is a dedicated father to his three kids, but for various reasons, also simultaneously unreliable in the responsibility department. His wife Miranda (Jenn Gambatese) files for and gets a divorce, and the judge gives him a limited time to prove himself stably employed and a stable influence if joint custody is to be granted. Miranda advertises for a Nanny to take care of the kids while she’s at work, and, a few machinations later—with the aid two make-up specialists, his gay brother Frank (Brad Oscar) and his partner (J Harrison Ghee), who provide him with prosthetics, including a mask—Daniel gets the job, as Mrs. Doubtfire, who hails from England. Who he fools and for how long and under what circumstances create the plot tension and build of course into a climax quick-change farce…the only important non-spoiler being that the long-game involves Miranda never catching wise; which is at first a blessing but at length a curse Daniel cannot undo without dire consequences.
So here’s what that gives you. And it’s not inconsiderable. Enough larger-than-life characters to carry song; enough things to sing about; and the kind of active, plotted story that many of the best musicals thrive on. It also gives the actors good roles they can sink their collective teeth into—unsurprisingly, McClure is sensational, as voice actor and physical comedian—and a director with a gift for this kind of comedy, in this case Jerry Zaks, a nice little playground in which to work his wares.
But what it doesn’t give you—at least, this adaptation shows no evidence of it—is that thematic core and/or artistic elevation I spoke of earlier. Now, you can argue, and not without some legitimacy, that none of that should matter, if the musical is hitting its marks. But here’s the conundrum:
You can feel that it’s not enough. The audience likes Mrs. Doubtfire. It’s an amiable show. But the audience doesn’t, in general, love Mrs. Doubtfire. Not like they’re currently loving Company and Kimberly Akimbo. But it’s not just the audience; you can feel the lack of necessity in the material itself. The libretto by Karey Kilpatrick and John O’Farrell feels overlong because the story can do naught but play out its plot points without benefit of resonant thematic points to make the experience richer. The score by Karey and Wayne Kilpatrick feels relentlessly familiar of style and vocabulary because there’s nothing intrinsic to the comedy mechanics of the material—nothing that’s been exploited anyway—that inspires deeper exploration. None of these people on the creative team has delivered badly, dishonorably or cheaply. They just seem to have hit the glass ceiling of source material that doesn’t let them rise to the next level.
Am I telling you not to attend? Not at all. By all means do, especially if you’re the kind of musical theatre aficionado who wants to be in on any decently thrown party. You’ll likely have fun; not much more than fun, I daresay; but fun that may or may not wear out its welcome; eye of the beholder. Either way, there’s much to admire when basic professionalism is in play. Ain’t no one’s assertion that that’s easy.
But what I am saying, I guess, is that you don’t have to be there. Anymore than Mrs. Doubtfire as a tuner…had to be there. And there’s the rub. Musicals are existential that way…