Though you live in this town, you live so far away...
Here is my arts review for my COM writing class. Apparently, it was good. I'd like to be a theater critic, but I imagine that's a difficult field to break into.
"If Only 'Jackie' Could See How Well it Goes" October 26, 2006
“One day the devil came up to Earth. He watched everyone. He heard everything they said. Then, he went back home to Hell and made a speech. This is what he said: Ça va?”
“Ça va?” asks Gay Marshall, in the opening song of Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris-“How goes it?”
Newly revived at off-Broadway’s quirky Zipper Theater in the Hell’s Kitchen section of Manhattan, the show is an evocatively sung revival highlighting four distinct and talented performers. It goes well. Very well.
Featuring Robert Cuccioli, Natascia Diaz, Gay Marshall, and Jim Stanek, Brel…makes its lyricist proud, using Eric Blau and Mort Schuman’s English translations of his French-language songs.
Performed in two acts, the first focuses on war and lost love, and the second on aging…and lost love (Brel was a Francophile). There are no rules here in the Parisian night club, graffitied and appropriately sparse, as per Robert Bissinger’s set design. Audience members will delight both in the cheerful group numbers, and in the personal solo numbers.
Robert Cuccioli, the best-known member of the cast, is infinitely more than the token “tall guy.” Remembered for originating the title roles in Jekyll and Hyde, the smoky, rich tone he takes on for Brel is a nice (and appropriate) change from his interpretation of Frank Wildhorn’s pop-Broadway score, which earned him a Tony® nomination. He skillfully balances charming and genuine while retaining the bitter arrogance of Brel himself-particularly while snarling “Jackie,” in which Brel muses on the time when someone interpreted his name as so. What is also odd is that Cuccioli has that same tall-dark-handsome look that Brel did in his heyday. (Call it fate, or perhaps a postmortem intervention from “Jackie” himself.) Cuccioli also shines in “Funeral Tango,” which was music to the ears of someone whose previous experience with the song involved a Brel -obsessed father method acting at the dinner table. (Thank you, Mr. Cuccioli.)
In a word, Natascia Diaz is engaging. In two words: thrilling singer. If it is possible to powerfully coo music, then this is it. She can do comedy-“Timid Frieda,” “Marieke”-and mon Dieu!-can she do tragedy. From “Old Folks” to “My Death” to “No Love You’re Not Alone,” just when it seems she cannot outdo herself, she does…and then she does again…and again. It was a déjà vu dream come true. If anyone remained unaware of his own mortality after “My Death,” someone should check his pulse. He’s probably already dead.
For a dancer, Gay Marshall (who made her Broadway debut as Morales in A Chorus Line) is some singer. The tiny, well-aged spitfire embodies American strength and French charisma and frankness. Her French, which she utilizes many times in the show, is crisp. She sounds nothing but native when she begs “Ne Me Quitte Pas (Don’t Leave Me)” entirely in its original language. And as she literally lets her hair down for the number-clever direction by Gordon Greenberg-almost every couple, whose median age was probably nearing 60, held hands. She was excitingly child-like crooning “My Childhood” and devilishly frantic as she wrapped up the show with “Carousel,” proving she can act as well.
Finally, there is Jim Stanek, taking over for Drew Sarich who left the role to play Grantaire in forthcoming revival of Les Misérables. (Note: Why leave a Paris night club for a revolution? Doesn’t he know that Grantaire dies “at the barricade of freedom”?) Stanek has a strong vibrato but a weak upper register, which is forgivable, because, well, he doesn’t look bad in a tank top. Stanek best flexes his muscles-both literally and musically-in the haunting “Next.” He does well as he vividly recounts Brel’s war experiences while Diaz and Marshall mercilessly shout, “Next! Au suivant!” His “Madeleine” is darling-think Harvey Johnson from Bye Bye Birdie. And he has very nice chemistry with Diaz on the powerful duet, “No Love You’re Not Alone.”
The four strong performers blend well together; in group numbers, each leaves room for the rest to shine. There is a whole new meaning to Diaz’s “Timid Frieda” as she fools both the older Cuccioli and the younger Stanek. And “The Middle Class” is hilarious, as an accordion-clad John O’Neill (the excellent musical director) joins the two men.
The show is two hours of quality theater-the kind perhaps more consistently produced in Brel’s era. To answer Marshall (and Cuccioli, Diaz, and Stanek): Ça va très, très bien.
"If Only 'Jackie' Could See How Well it Goes" October 26, 2006
“One day the devil came up to Earth. He watched everyone. He heard everything they said. Then, he went back home to Hell and made a speech. This is what he said: Ça va?”
“Ça va?” asks Gay Marshall, in the opening song of Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris-“How goes it?”
Newly revived at off-Broadway’s quirky Zipper Theater in the Hell’s Kitchen section of Manhattan, the show is an evocatively sung revival highlighting four distinct and talented performers. It goes well. Very well.
Featuring Robert Cuccioli, Natascia Diaz, Gay Marshall, and Jim Stanek, Brel…makes its lyricist proud, using Eric Blau and Mort Schuman’s English translations of his French-language songs.
Performed in two acts, the first focuses on war and lost love, and the second on aging…and lost love (Brel was a Francophile). There are no rules here in the Parisian night club, graffitied and appropriately sparse, as per Robert Bissinger’s set design. Audience members will delight both in the cheerful group numbers, and in the personal solo numbers.
Robert Cuccioli, the best-known member of the cast, is infinitely more than the token “tall guy.” Remembered for originating the title roles in Jekyll and Hyde, the smoky, rich tone he takes on for Brel is a nice (and appropriate) change from his interpretation of Frank Wildhorn’s pop-Broadway score, which earned him a Tony® nomination. He skillfully balances charming and genuine while retaining the bitter arrogance of Brel himself-particularly while snarling “Jackie,” in which Brel muses on the time when someone interpreted his name as so. What is also odd is that Cuccioli has that same tall-dark-handsome look that Brel did in his heyday. (Call it fate, or perhaps a postmortem intervention from “Jackie” himself.) Cuccioli also shines in “Funeral Tango,” which was music to the ears of someone whose previous experience with the song involved a Brel -obsessed father method acting at the dinner table. (Thank you, Mr. Cuccioli.)
In a word, Natascia Diaz is engaging. In two words: thrilling singer. If it is possible to powerfully coo music, then this is it. She can do comedy-“Timid Frieda,” “Marieke”-and mon Dieu!-can she do tragedy. From “Old Folks” to “My Death” to “No Love You’re Not Alone,” just when it seems she cannot outdo herself, she does…and then she does again…and again. It was a déjà vu dream come true. If anyone remained unaware of his own mortality after “My Death,” someone should check his pulse. He’s probably already dead.
For a dancer, Gay Marshall (who made her Broadway debut as Morales in A Chorus Line) is some singer. The tiny, well-aged spitfire embodies American strength and French charisma and frankness. Her French, which she utilizes many times in the show, is crisp. She sounds nothing but native when she begs “Ne Me Quitte Pas (Don’t Leave Me)” entirely in its original language. And as she literally lets her hair down for the number-clever direction by Gordon Greenberg-almost every couple, whose median age was probably nearing 60, held hands. She was excitingly child-like crooning “My Childhood” and devilishly frantic as she wrapped up the show with “Carousel,” proving she can act as well.
Finally, there is Jim Stanek, taking over for Drew Sarich who left the role to play Grantaire in forthcoming revival of Les Misérables. (Note: Why leave a Paris night club for a revolution? Doesn’t he know that Grantaire dies “at the barricade of freedom”?) Stanek has a strong vibrato but a weak upper register, which is forgivable, because, well, he doesn’t look bad in a tank top. Stanek best flexes his muscles-both literally and musically-in the haunting “Next.” He does well as he vividly recounts Brel’s war experiences while Diaz and Marshall mercilessly shout, “Next! Au suivant!” His “Madeleine” is darling-think Harvey Johnson from Bye Bye Birdie. And he has very nice chemistry with Diaz on the powerful duet, “No Love You’re Not Alone.”
The four strong performers blend well together; in group numbers, each leaves room for the rest to shine. There is a whole new meaning to Diaz’s “Timid Frieda” as she fools both the older Cuccioli and the younger Stanek. And “The Middle Class” is hilarious, as an accordion-clad John O’Neill (the excellent musical director) joins the two men.
The show is two hours of quality theater-the kind perhaps more consistently produced in Brel’s era. To answer Marshall (and Cuccioli, Diaz, and Stanek): Ça va très, très bien.