The Broadway Theatre Review: Water for Elephants and The Outsiders

By Ross

Directly across the street from one another on West 45th St in the heart of Broadway are two new musicals based on well-known movies adapted from well-known books. Not a surprising thing these days; to take such well-regarded base material and give it the ol’ Broadway musical treatment, and each fly forward as pretty solidly entertaining pieces of musical theatre, but in very different splashy ways. Both deliver forth casts of exceptional talent, with, to be honest, the malefactor being handsomely displayed throughout on both those stages, whether it’s shirtless and greased, or hanging magnificently from a slowly raised pole with the greatest of ease (I apologize in advance for using that turn of phrase probably more times than I should, but it is the circus…). The adaptations, unpacked with loving care and heart, find their way through the fire and a magnificent puppet stampede, each after a parental catastrophe that is at their emotional core, yet somehow each lingers differently; one in a more visually spectacular way; the other, more emotionally heartfelt and tender.

A strumming banjo draws us inside the world of the infamous Benzini circus, riding into town on the back of the impressive Rosie the elephant, hurdling itself excitedly up into the air at the Imperial Theatre on Broadway. The memories wash over the older man wistfully standing center stage staring into the landscape as if he is watching a passing ghost train filled with acrobats and animals. We can almost hear the applause, as Water for Elephants, the musical based on the best-selling novel by Sara Gruen (At the Water’s Edge) and 2011 film directed by Francis Lawrence, swoops in on two paralleled death-defying levels. It lives where the past and the present collide, riding in on the back of a long-gone circus horse with a bad leg that only this old-timer circus vet can see. The memories and parallels find their way into the center ring, unleashed inside the mind of an older gentleman, played with earnestness and affability by Gregg Edelman (Broadway’s City of Angels), who has returned to the circus, sneaking out of his retirement, not as a man running from something, but to reconnect to the origins of his heart. And hers.

With music and lyrics by Pigpen Theatre Co. (The Old Man and the Old Moon), the first song on that circus train is as wobbly as that horse’s leg. It doesn’t exactly pull us hard into the big tent as it should, but it does lay down the straightforward tracks of this tale in quick simplistic tones. The younger version of this gentleman, Jacob Jankowski, played in the same earnest manner by a very engaging Grant Gustin (“The Flash“; “Glee“), materializes before us, after suffering a devastating shock to the system when his parents die just days before his finals at veterinarian school. Overcome with grief, he runs, desperate to leave his pain and grief behind as he leaps over the abyss onto a passing train. Little does he know that this leap of desperation, not faith, will end up taking him on a wild animal journey to a place he never could have imagined from the safety of his veterinarian classroom.

Directed with skill and an eye for adventure by Jessica Stone (Broadway’s Kimberly Akimbo), Water for Elephants finally rolls out its handsome barker pullers to enthrall and excite, and we are off to the three-ringed circus and spectacle that is at the core of this dynamically astonishing big top. “I Choose the Ride” sing the bodies on stage, as the ever so talented and brave fly through the air with the greatest of ease, erecting the structural tent pole of this musical with all the circus magic one could hope for. Rick Elice (Jersey Boys; The Cher Show) does a fine job with the writing of the book for this energizing tale of love, jealousy, and revenge, but as we engage with both the older and the younger versions of the central figure, good-guy Jacob, the songs become the sideshow attraction to this circus of a show, with the acrobats taking over the central ring, tumbling and flying into the spotlight over and over again, even if their actions play little to no part in the story being told.

We welcome them regardless, as the acrobats and gymnasts, circus-designed by co-choreographer Shana Carroll (Cirque du Soleil’s Crystal) and co-choreographer Jesse Robb (Cameron Mackintosh’s Les Misérables), are the glue that holds this show together. And without their magic and death-defying acts, this memory play musical would rattle down the train tracks into the sunset, quickly forgotten and dismissed. The “Kinkers & Rousts” are the silver stars of the show: namely Antoine Boissereau, Paul Castree, Taylor Colleton, (the incredible) Gabriel Olivera de Paula Costa, Isabella Luisa Diaz, Keaton Hentoff-Killian, Nicolas Jelmoni, Caroline Kane, Michael Mendez, Samuel Renaud, Marissa Rosen, Alexandra Gaelle Royer, Charles South, Sean Stack, and Matthew Varvar, who never fail to captivate and entertain throughout, and should not be forgotten as we dive into the actual tale that this train is trying to tell.

Jacob, unaware that the train he has jumped upon is carrying his future, finds himself surrounded by circus performers and animals of all shapes and sizes. Almost thrown off by the always angry, and forever damaged Wade, played intensely by the impressive and imposing Wade McCollum (Broadway’s Wicked; Off-Broadway’s Make Me Gorgeous), Jacob manages to remain on board, thanks to the kindness and care of the side acts who take a liking to the young corn-fed man. Beautifully performed by the impressively gifted Sara Gettelfinger (Broadway’s Nine) as Barbara; Joe DePaul (Salto Natale-Zurich) as Walter; and the wonderful Stan Brown (Off-Broadway’s Open Heart) as the aging Camel, alongside a few other circus performers and acts, they draw him into the circle, seeing something inside him that Jacob (and the audience) can’t completely connect with. Yet.

But there, in the moment when he comes across the faltering star act; a beautiful white horse named Silver Star, majestically embodied in silks by Boissereau (graduate from the National Circus School of Montreal), and Star’s caring lovely leading lady rider, Marlena (also June), played tenderly by Isabelle McCalla (Broadway’s The Prom), the tables turn and he decides to stay, choosing the ride, regardless of what it may bring. Their chemistry is undeniable from the get-go, but somehow remains unnoticed by Marlena’s husband and owner of this traveling struggling circus, August (also Charlie), played to perfection by the incredible and focused Paul Alexander Nolan (Broadway’s Slave Play; Bright Star), until its too late. Nolan is outstanding, finding his way through the tangled rope of charming and dangerous with an undeniably electric force. It’s his formula and charisma, layered with distinct tones that are frightening, threatening, and enthralling, which hold the tent poles of this circus together, binding them tight and giving Water for Elephants its crackling dangerous energy.

Both McCalla and Nolan perform their dual acts of past and present circus performers seamlessly, delivering forth the wistful memory play that is at the heart of this musical pleasure ride. We can’t help but be engaged in Mr. Jankowski’s flight of fancy into his emotional past, even if this lion of a musical “…Has Got No Teeth“. Yet, the circus puppet animals enliven, especially in the well-crafted final showdown, thanks to the fine work by lighting designer Bradley King (Broadway’s Fat Ham), sound designer Walter Trarbach (Broadway’s SpongeBob…), and puppet designers Ray Wetmore & JR Goodman (Broadway’s Here Lies Love) on a stage meticulously designed with clever sparseness by Takeshi Kata (Broadway’s Clyde’s). But the music, supervised and arranged by Mary-Mitchell Campbell (Broadway’s Some Like It Hot) & Benedict Braxton-Smith (Carnegie Hall’s My Golden Age), is merely the background soundtrack to the more thrilling acts that come alive in the center ring. You won’t really remember a lyric or a note sung at the Imperial Theatre. But you will walk away enthralled by the impressive feats performed on stage and the sweet lump in your throat delivered by a man who ran away to the circus leaving his heartache and troubles behind him, only to find that love again, waiting patiently for him to return.

Over at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre, another young man, this one going by the name Ponyboy Curtis, played fantastically true by the oh-so-talented Brody Grant (NYCC’s Parade), quietly sits and writes as we take our seats. He stares out, dreaming of the likes of movie star, Paul Newman and the personas he embodied on the big screen. He also ponders how he’s going to get home safely to the wrong side of the tracks in Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1967, back to his two older brothers who wait for him anxiously. Somehow, he has to navigate the dangerous streets on the wrong side of town carefully, as they are patrolled menacingly by those rich, and naturally mean and violent (privileged white) guys who like to terrorize poorer kids like himself from their shared high school. He knows, instinctually, that he has placed himself in a precarious situation, but ‘first things first‘, he sings, with that warm velvety and powerful caressing voice of his, a great introduction song, one of many by book, music & lyric writer, music supervisor, orchestrator, arranger, Justin Levine (Broadway’s Moulin Rouge!) and music and lyric writer, Jamestown Revival; an American band from Austin, TX; about the hardened hearts and aching souls of his chosen family, The Outsiders, and we can’t help but be pulled in by his swoon and intelligent swagger.

With a strong but often meandering book by Adam Rapp (The Sound Inside) that may (or may not) adhere too closely to the classic novel by S.E. Hinton (Tex; Rumblefish) and the landmark motion picture directed by Francis Ford Coppola starring a slew of young actors who became movie stars, The Outsiders finds itself planted firmly in the touching and emotionally bonding jungle bar tale of three young brothers trying to survive familial tragedy, wrapped up in the somewhat traditional and stereotypical street wars between the ‘haves and have-nots’ in small-town America. It’s “West Side Story“, mashed together with “Rebel Without a Cause” (as well as a number of other period films and shows) where caring, financially-challenged young men find themselves fighting battles too big and violent for their natures, against class and prejudice, trying to hold on to their sense of self in a world that may never accept them. Yet even as the comparisons fly through our collective heads as we watch the tensions rise on stage, impossible to ignore, The Outsiders easily wipes away those parallels and makes us focus our love and attention on these three orphaned brothers and their chosen family of ‘greasers’ and ‘outsiders’. They all are just too hard to resist. And why would we want to?

Directed with a strong sense of conflict and tension by Danya Taymor (Broadway’s Pass Over), this gripping and tender musical charges forth a formula of two different worlds in one typical 1967 American town. Some are clean-cut but live cruelly in their privilege, while others, the ones we totally side with, roll with the punches in their smooth-like grease and shirtless, sharp stances. It’s a war, even before it is called out. And we feel the tension as it continually escalates, embodied most heart-racingly within the dynamic and creatively chaotic choreography of Rick & Jeff Kuperman (MCC’s Alice by Heart), highlighted majestically in the dynamic lighting by Brian MacDevitt (Broadway’s The Music Man), splashing forth on a stage ‘scenographically’ designed distinctly by AMP, featuring Tatiana Kahvegian (Trinity Rep’s A Christmas Carol).

The blood bond of brothers carries a strong emotional weight, laying heavy and clear on the shoulders of the oldest and most worn-down, pseudo-father-figured brother, Darrel Curtis, beautifully embodied by the powerful, earthy Brent Comer (Les Misérables tour), alongside the middle brother, the sexy, loyal, and forever shirtless Sodapop, played empathetically by the engaging Jason Schmidt (TUTS’s Cinderella), who supports in the only way he knows how. Grant’s Ponyboy is their touchstone, seen by these two as the one who might actually get out of this soul-crushing trap these two find themselves. He is the intellectually strong one, they believe, the one who dreams in words and phrases they can barely comprehend. And their love for each other runs deep, even inside of their internal frustration and despair. Comer’s Darrel handsomely ignites the heaviness of the household with a passion and physicality that emulates far beyond that kitchen table, clashing hard with the more shiny thrilling object that is Dallas Winston, embodied strong by Joshua Boone (Broadway’s Skeleton Crew), a ex-con rebel without a cause that represents more than just stereotypical old movie formula.

But as the strongly framed songs keep rolling forward, dedicated to the familial desire for home, love, and dreams, the musical never fails to engage, particularly in the epic “Great Expectations,” pulled out from the Dickens’ novel that lives in Ponyboy’s back pocket. The Outsiders keep filling the air with righteous conflict and resignation, splashing bits of watery optimism forward with rebellious kicks by this crew. The musicality of the show soars, thanks to the fine work by music director Matt Hinkley (Broadway’s Bandstand), with a powerful assist from sound designer Cody Spencer (Broadway’s Gutenberg! The Musical), and a compelling projection design by Hana Kim (Broadway’s Summer, 1976). It’s an energizing drive-in framework that keeps working hard and true right up to the climax of conflict that stabs its way engagingly into our souls. There, in the beating heart of Johnny Cade, portrayed somewhat slightly and simply by Sky Lakota-Lynch (Broadway’s Dear Evan Hansen), is where the piece finds its ultimatum, and the war between the poor ‘greasers’ and the monied ‘socs’ boils up to overflowing.

The fuse is violently lit thereafter, and the rivalry of ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots’ is ignited by an innocent romance across enemy lines. With Cherry Valance at the center of this showdown, talking sweet and engagingly with the wide-eyed puppy that is Ponyboy, that handholding, sweet, casual interaction ultimately power kegs itself into an intense cutting confrontation and a second-act rumble ripped right out of the “West Side Story” playbook. Portrayed well by Emma Pittman (Broadway’s Chicago), the female lead part flickers on the edges of meaningful and meaningless, being an important touchstone to the young Ponyboy, but not the focal point of his force – unlike the Maria (or Juliet) counterpart who has a lot more to say and do. This Outsiders conflict lives and breathes fully in the roughness of its Abercrombie & Fitch, pseudo-masculinity, set swirling and rolling in an erotically charged rainstorm battle that is as captivatingly majestic as it is violent.

Drenched in sweat, tears, and blood, the young men finally come together in community and defiance, costumed strongly by Sarafina Bush (Broadway’s Tommy). It’s a show, driven by the bonding of brothers, both chosen and of blood, brimming with poetic engagement and care. Its tender heart beats defiantly with determination and grit, heightened by the well-crafted rockabilly and blues songs, that are sometimes gentle and reflective, and deliver the framing, even when repetitive and overly self-narrative. The tenderest of moments enters in late, blossoming between Ponyboy and Lakota-Lynch’s Johnny on the hood of a car, that, in a way, resonates far beyond the sidebar destruction of ex-con and mentor Dally. It’s in the friends’ tragic poetic connection, sung in sideways through a letter, where The Outsiders unleashes its soul, hitting the mark solidly and beautifully. It’s a connection that the other book and movie epic turned Broadway musical, Water for Elephants never really discovers fully, even with all the silk-wrapped death-defying leaps of faith it contains. Neither show is perfect, but one quenches our thirst, both emotionally and musically, even if it is from the leftover puddle water kicked high into the air every chance those handsome boys can find.