On speed and machismo: Mercury’s ‘Jersey Boys’ and Skylight’s ‘From Here to Eternity’
Michael Metcalf, Adrian Aguilar, Jason Michael Evans, and Andrew MacNaughton. Photo by Liz Lauren.
Jersey Boys, the musical biography of The Four Seasons is highly efficient. This is high praise—it’s all very no B.S., even with the whole Rashomon effect going on.
And thanks to Mercury, this no-stop muscle car of a musical makes for a swell crowd-pleaser.
Even with four competing narrators—Tommy DeVito (Adrian Aguilar), Bob Gaudio (Andrew MacNaughton), Nick Massi (Jason Michael Evans), and Frankie Valli (Michael Metcalf), in control of the telling of one “season” each—you never feel like you’re getting less than the straight dope on the group. That’s not a very common feeling in these stage musical biographies, which no doubt dial things back in the name of good relations with the original songs’ rights holders. Thus, the worst crime any musical bio character tends to commit is “loving the music too much” or some such. Meanwhile, Jersey Boys bookwriters Rick Elice and Marshall Brickman give us a jail sentence in the first fifteen minutes, with several more to come. Music is a way to get up and out, and the writers never hide the fact that these boys will have to break a few eggs to make a sweet cannoli. Not to mention that a little bit of neighborhood “manhood” goes a long way.
There’s plenty sweetness to offset the sourness, for sure. Naturally, these Jersey devils sing like angels, separately and in unison. Metcalf’s Valli, the best-for-last narrator’s spot, rightfully deserves it, but I had a special sympathy for Aguilar’s DeVito, the first narrator who then becomes Mr. “I Was Here First” when his street smarts can’t keep up with the brains behind the music industry.
To-the-point staging by L. Walter Stearns and Brenda Didier, apropos step-touch moves by Christopher Chase Carter, and music direction by Eugene Dizon and Linda Madonia complete the package.
These hotheads with slick-cool harmonies are here through the summer.
Jersey Boys runs through Jul. 28 at 3745 N. Southport Ave.. For tickets or more information, please call (773) 360 - 7365 or visit mercurytheaterchicago.com.
The Company. Photo by Mark Frohna.
Following a brief West End run in 2013 (which—fun fact—I happened to catch), From Here to Eternity—based on the novel by James Jones and immortal in moviedom for that beachside embrace—has had a few productions stateside, all with hands-on involvement from its writers and backing from its lyricist, no less than Tim Rice. To what end—whether it’s a bid for a large-scale commercial production or fine-tuning for licensing—remains to be seen.
In any event, when Milwaukee announced it was making a special berth for the musical, I made plans. (So did composer Stuart Brayson, who was in the house when I went.)
Consequently, too, even for as long as this has been around, I’m considering this a work in progress rather than something set in stone.
For all one might wonder about the appropriateness of an all-British writing team tackling red-blooded American material, Rice has always been drawn to characters trapped in machinations beyond their comprehension—just look at Jesus Christ Superstar or Chess. And Brayson’s music—touching on period blues and jazz and dipping even into rock—has muscle and groove enough to keep even the most ruminative passage moving forward.
The challenge with Eternity, though, is that it is is a sense about nothing happening. The biggest conflict affecting Waikiki’s G Company in late autumn 1941 is whether the stoic Private Prewitt (Ian Ward) can be broken so he’ll box in an Army-wide tournament. (He has his reasons not to, to be sure.) Meanwhile, Private Maggio (Gianni Palmarini) keeps digging a hole for himself in the sand thanks to his big mouth. Meanwhile, their C.O., Sergeant Warden (Matt Faucher), is trapped in an affair with his superior’s wife (Kaitlyn Davidson) and that’s coming to a head with the pace of a Hawaiian sunburn.
We know what’s coming, though—Eternity is also, with a perfectly Rice-like wryness, about how all these small dramas can get swept up in an even bigger one. The challenge in that, though, might be that Pearl Harbor isn’t something the cast can react against or even brace for, what with it being a surprise attack. Without revealing anything, the show’s frame is about how Prewitt, Maggio, and Warden together almost became the most infamous thing to happen to a Hawaii military base.
But in dealing with their present tempests, director Brett Smock has put together an ideal cast to show off this material, especially Palmarini as a Maggio so wiry and emotive you forget Sinatra ever touched this character. (Smock also puts them through the ringer every night with his moves—you can see the red in their faces.) And Jeffrey D. Kmiec’s haunting and eternal arches of greyed and charred barrack beds deserves another showing in whatever comes next.
I’d happily wait on the beach for it to come back and see what it has become.
From Here to Eternity runs through May 5 at 158 N. Broadway, Milwaukee, WI 53202. For tickets or more information, please call (414) 219- 7600 or visit sklyightmusictheatre.org.
For more reviews on these or other shows, please visit theatreinchicago.com.