The Broadway Theatre Review: The Shark is Broken & Back to the Future: The Musical

By Ross

I must admit something. Well, actually two things. One of them was a confession that was hard for my friend to believe. But I had to come clean as we sat down in one of the two different Broadway theatres to watch two very different Broadway shows; one a big loud musical and the other a simple boat of a play. But both had their mechanical roots firmly tied to two old classic movies that are still as widely known today as they were back in their time. My time, basically. And both are somehow inexplicably linked, oddly enough, to the one and only Steven Spielberg. One of these, I had never seen before, except for snippets here and there, but never from start to finish, and the other I did see once, and only once, cause I could not, and would not, watch it again, or I would not, could not, ever go back into the ocean water again. Can you guess which films I talking about?

The first is “Back to the Future“, a 1985 American science fiction film directed by Robert Zemeckis, written by Zemeckis and Bob Gale, presented by Spielberg, and starring Michael J. Fox, Christopher Lloyd, and Lea Thompson. Now, the movie has been turned into a big-budget Broadway musical, transferring over from London’s West End, with music and lyrics by Alan Silvestri & Glen Ballard, book by the same Bob Gale, and starring Roger Bart and Casey Likes. I’m not sure why I never saw this movie when it first came out, or on television years after. Nothing against it, but somehow it bypassed me.

The other floats its wobbly ship around the infamous and troubled making of Steven Spielberg’s 1975 horror classic “Jaws” and the film’s difficult mechanical beast of a star; a bunch of malfunctioning ocean-not-so-worthy sharks that continually fail to do the job being asked of them, basically almost sinking the project alongside them. This new play, based on those days at sea on hold, is a Waiting for Godot-like creation, obviously titled The Shark is Broken, written by Joseph Nixon and one of the star’s actual son, Ian Shaw, directed by Guy Masterson, and starring the same Ian Shaw, alongside Alex Brightman and Colin Donnell. And I’m not overstating the chilling effect it had on me.

Yet, these two staged productions are a crazy pairing, seen one night after the other during the summer of 2023, and I wish I could say that they are both blockbuster hits like their legendary cinematic counterparts, but unfortunately, I can not. And although both are pretty spectacularly presented and somewhat entertaining in some very different and unique mannerisms, both left me wandering out into the streets of Broadway hungry for a much bigger fish to fry in the future and wishing for a whole lot more than what was being served up in these Broadway houses.

It’s no surprise that The Shark is Broken begins with that ominous and epic threat of a soundtrack sound. Even if it is only a vague tip of the hat to that iconic soundtrack. Those notes are well known to anyone who has seen the movie, and they could (and probably have) mimicked them at one point in time or another. Most likely when a friend or younger sibling has entered the ocean for a nice refreshing swim. Or, I must admit, heard in my head whenever I go for an ocean swim. When played here at Broadway’s Golden Theatre, they make the audience rapturously happy, clapping and laughing because of the connective strings being pulled. This, it turns out, is the theme of both shows; giving you that familiar thread and making everyone pretty reminiscently happy to play along. That is if you have a strong good connection to the source material. But what if you don’t?

On a miraculously well crafted and designed floating ship-slash-waiting room, courtesy of set and costume designer Duncan Henderson (The Roundhouse’s Bloodlines), with devilishly good lighting by Jon Clark (Broadway’s A Doll’s House), solid sound and original music by Adam Cork (Almeida/MTC’s Ink), and the most impressive video design one could imagine by Nina Dunn for Pixellux (West End’s Bonnie & Clyde) – so good it almost made me sea-sick, The Shark is Broken delivers forth a backdrop and location the excels on all fronts. It’s the perfect playground for the film’s three stars to wile away their time in between shots, embodied by three very fine actors giving us uncanny and definitive portrayals, drinking, arguing, gambling, and attacking one another’s egos with glee.

And that’s about it, in a nutshell. The movie stars are instantly recognizable to anyone who knows the film well and extremely well performed by the trio of stage actors here, with the most obvious being the hilariously neurotic and sea-sick Richard Dreyfus, played perfectly by Alex Brightman (Broadway’s Beetlejuice), alongside the cool intellect of black turtleneck-wearing Roy Scheider, played beautifully by Colin Donnell (NYCC Encores’ Merrily We Roll Along). The third is an actor I recognized, but can’t say I knew much about; Robert Shaw, an English actor, novelist, playwright, and screenwriter who dutifully portrayed shark hunter Quint in the film, and is played on stage here by his dead-ringer-of-a-son, and co-playwright Ian Shaw (NT’s War Horse), growling the time away with his co-stars in between nips from the bottle as they wait for the mechanical shark to get its act together. It’s a great set-up for a confined interaction, worthy of the artists that have come together for this piece.

The three actors deliver the goods stupendously, finding authenticity and humor with every wave and rock of the boat, and as directed with a clever wit by Gus Masterson (Edinburgh Fringe Festival/West End’s Morecambe), The Shark Is Broken tries to find some fucked up familiarity in the Godot-like framework. The play gives the three movie stars-played-by-actors plenty of space to unload baggage and take out their frustrations on each other and the sea. And they dive right into the rough waters with glee, but will it be enough? That is the question.

The filming off the coast of Martha’s Vineyard is legendary for its troubled sea shoots, managed and orchestrated by a young unproven director, Spielberg, for a worried movie studio, on location with some pretty fussy mechanical sharks who are almost the most difficult things on that ship and in the film. But it’s Brightman’s Dreyfus who takes center stage after the star shark, even with his third-billing poster status. He struggles to keep his fragile sanity and food down while tossing and turning on that ship constantly being provoked by his fellow actor, Shaw, drinking his unknown sorrows down regardless of the time of day. Shaw, as beautifully embodied by the actor’s son, can’t seem to help himself, finding fault and poking at the insecure actor, Dreyfus, every chance he gets. It’s a comedy show of sorts, with Dreyfus’ desperation for stardom, and Shaw, the pretentious artist, writer, and famed stage actor, ridiculing the man for his obvious ambition. Scheider is the calmer force, reading and sunning his slim (most excellent) body in the sun, patiently doing his time as well as he can, until the moment he can’t hold it in anymore.

At one point, after endless rounds of storytelling regarding fathers and fame; drinking and debauchery, the question of the day is finally asked from one actor to another; “What is this film about?” It’s a question asked for pure curiosity-sake, and I couldn’t have wished for a better one. Dreyfus responds metaphorically, Donnell’s Scheider answers symbolically, but it’s Shaw, the perpetual artist, who answers simply and directly. “It’s about a shark!” he exclaims, impatiently. But I wish we could ask the same of this play. For us all to be more certain what the actual play that we are watching is all about. Because, to be honest, the more it went on and on, and the more these three wrangled and drank the days away, the less energy I spent trying to figure it all out. And the less I cared.

I guess the on-set difficulties of this film, detailed in Carl Gottlieb’s memoir, The Jaws Log, are widely known and heralded, but does that, in essence, make this unpacking and unloading more, or less interesting? It certainly explains the title, but even at a brisk 95mins, The Shark is Broken fails to make me want to lean in and make sense of the wild sea laid out before us. The known fact that the filming would finally make it to the last day and wrap, only makes the meanderings and the recreations of that one infamous scene more meaningless to me. I know it was meant to delight and drive the ship forward, but I couldn’t get on board. I must admit that every joke made about the future of film making; dinosaurs and extra-terrestrials et al., is well received and amusing, making me chuckle a bit here and there, but the play is not as funny as how loud and big the guy behind us was laughing. Obviously, it didn’t bite me as hilariously as it did him. Maybe this slight sea-worthy ship should have docked at a smaller, more intimate off-Broadway port. It might have made more sense tied to a smaller dock.

But it’s all about nostalgia, right? Especially when we examine the parts and pieces that make up the film-to-stage show, Back to the Future: The Musical. The new and original musical, based solidly on the much-loved 1985 Robert Zemeckis film, drives fast and furious into Broadway’s Winter Garden Theatre after a very successful world premiere in the West End of London. The fanfare and excitement of the project, as it counts down to acceleration inside the theatre, is truly astounding, making me wonder about what I missed out on. This is the famed movie I had never seen, beyond snippets here and there, and my theatre buddy wondered out loud, as he excitedly informed me of its iconic puffy red vest and attacking Libyans (sadly cut), if I would be as into it as everyone else around me seemed to be. And I must admit, I did too.

From the man who wrote the screenplay of that iconic film, book writer Bob Gale doesn’t, I am told, stray too far from the source, driving in the well-known numbers, like “The Power of Love” and “Back in Time” as scheduled to the delight of all. With absolutely forgettable new music and lyrics by Glen Ballard (Jagged Little Pill) and Alan Silvestri, who also happened to be the person behind the film’s original theme. The musical attempts to shift itself into high gear with every trick in the visual book (as it certainly won’t be the music you remember), and in a way, it works. Under the hyper-direction of John Rando (Broadway’s Urinetown), Back to the Future: The Musical finds the decadent DeLorean dynamic in its radioactive construction and awesome visual effects, thanks to scenic and costume designer Tim Hatley (Broadway/West End’s Life of Pi), lighting designers Tim Lutkin (Old Vic’s Lungs) and Hugh Vanstone (Broadway’s The Boys in the Band), video designer Finn Ross (Almeida’s Tammy Faye), sound designer Gareth Oen (Broadway’s & Juliet), and illusions by Chris Fisher (Broadway’s Company). The spectacle is all there, delivering at every turn of the wheel. And the crowd eats it up. Just like The Shark…, every known element is greeted with cheers and applause, and even though those nostalgic bits were not hitting my gears in the same way, I can’t say I was ever not entertained. Did I care about the outcome in the end? Not really, as it was clear everything was going to turn out just swell, and the journey from beginning to swell ending just wasn’t musically or emotionally compelling enough to lean in, but I wasn’t exactly bored by it all either. No seat belts are required here, though, as nothing dangerous (or new) is going to happen.

From the first revving of its engine, the musical makes it clear that the McFly family of Hill Valley is destined for not great things. But it is also clear that lead actor, Casey Likes is on a pretty impressive film-to-stage roll having just closed out Broadway’s Almost Famous in a quick flash of rockstar light. In that new musical, just like this one, he is (and was) the perfect formulation for the part, playing out his need for connection and coolness with equal affability. He seems to be the perfect foil for adaptations, and in the BTTF universe, his girlfriend, Jennifer Parker, played to period perfection by Mikaela Secada (TheLex’s West Side Story), delivers one of the more engagingly simple moments in this loud and revved up musical, “Wherever We’re Going” to the “Got No Future” Marty McFly (Likes).

And I must admit, that early on in this musical, I was filled with hope. But it didn’t last long. Cause in walks the overdone dead-ender dad McFly, George, played by Hugh Coles (the original Marty in West End’s Back to the Future). The performance starts out big with a long-legged capital B, flinging himself around the stage in a way, I am told, was reminiscent of the movie. So I guess it works, especially when being bullied by his current work boss/high school nemesis, Biff, played in a strong kinda expected way by Nathaniel Hackmann (Disney’s Beauty and the Beast). George’s wife, Lorraine, portrayed by Liana Hunt (Broadway’s Newsies) isn’t faring any better, pouring vodka down her throat in big gulps, while trying to guide her children in a manner that is sad in its avoidance. It’s over-the-top disastrous, but I guess nostalgia wins again, even if I didn’t quite join that bandwagon.

All seems sad and awkward in that family unit, even if Marty never really gives off the same overdone vibe that is coming big from the other members of his family. That is until he rushes to the assistance of his mad scientist friend and father figure, Dr. Emmett Brown, played strong and wild by the very game Roger Bart (Broadway’s The Producers). In a radiating flash of an eye, Marty finds himself in the driver’s seat, zooming his way from 1985 to 1955 in Dr. Brown’s time machine. Barned up in the DeLorean car, the invention and Marty find themselves stranded in the 1950s with no way back (I’d give you more info, but I’m sure you know the deal). So Marty must find the much younger Dr., convince him of his predicament, and find a way to generate the 1.21 gigawatts of electricity to power himself Back to the Future, musically, all the while trying to avoid inadvertently changing the course of history by meddling in the past. Which, to no one’s surprise, he has already done just that before he even finds the Doctor. Without realizing it, Marty has become the love object for his young and beautiful teenage mom, supplanting the affections she was going to have with his own father, and possibly erasing his entire future, one sibling at a time.

It’s a playground for time frames and period play, this new musical, playing with both the 80s and the 50s with not exactly equal pleasure, but with similar frames and fun. It’s America, and isn’t it great to be alive in the 1950s? Or so sings the ensemble. “It just feels right when / All of these white men / Get to have their cake / So let the women bake / We get to have our cake and eat it too.” There are smoking and drinking pregnant ladies and more, once we fly back in time, and opportunities and predictable outcomes between bullies and their prey, but Back to the Future: The Musical isn’t really here to reinvent anything, especially those wheels that are a wonder to watch.

I wasn’t in the position to notice the slight revisions in Gale’s book, but most seemed to work after being informed by my buddy, and maybe a few of them even fixed some cultural insensitivities or superficial plot points. What I do know is that in general, the musical does succeed in entertaining those in the know and those few of us who are not so in the know. The actors, even those that start out oversized and awkward, find their footing and their emotionality, driving their personas towards an ending that registers on more than just a familiar level. Likes, once again, inhabits a part made famous by someone else, giving us just the right amount of breathy vocal cracking to never let us forget the wonderful Michael J. Fox, yet never being so overdone that we are ourselves sent back in time to the film. Coles as his father, George, annoying at first, finds himself just in the nick of time in the well-formed, “Put Your Mind to It“. Sadly he has to also sing earlier on the ridiculously incoherent “My Myopia” while hiding in a tree. I might hide too if I was burdened with that number.

Roger Bart, on the other hand, is instantly unique, barely giving us any Christopher Lloydisms, which is a blessing, although I could really do without his “21st Century” number that made no sense at the top of Act 2, and is only memorable because of its utter stupidity. But “For the Dreamers” is who he is playing this for, and his performance is completely embraced by all, including me. Hunt, as both messy adult Lorraine and young wide-eyed teenager Lorraine is a delight at every libido-raised turn, and Jelani Remy (Broadway’s Ain’t Too Proud) expands the part of Goldie Wilson every chance he gets, giving it his all when he “Gotta Start Somewhere“. It’s a show-stopping moment, even if it doesn’t really drive this musical all that forward. It’s more of an amazingly magnificent park and play moment, rather than a fourth gear acceleration.

Back to the Future: The Musical only really kicks itself into fifth when that magnificently designed car does its duty, riding fast and flying high, in the opposite yet similar way that the mechanical “Jaws” shark continually slammed on the brakes in the movie, but inspired The Shark is Broken. The visuals are what ultimately drive both of these vehicles, as well as America’s obsession with nostalgia and the known and already loved commodity. If it isn’t a sequel, it’s a remake. Or a remake of a sequel, or a prequel to a remade sequel. The list goes on, as Ian Shaw’s Robert Shaw, while waiting for the mechanical shark to take his place on set, states on that Golden Theatre stage, ironically, as Ian is, in a way, a sequel embodiment of his father, the great drunken British actor. I’m just happy to have a few originals lined up for the following few days of theatre, because that is where “Here Lies Love” lives somewhere on Broadway at “The Cottage” and beyond.