As a seasoned theater-goer who has seen my fair share of musical adaptations, I must say that Andrew Lloyd Webber‘s latest creation, “Norma Jeane,” is a rollercoaster ride of emotions, much like Norma herself. The storyline is gripping, the performances are captivating, and the innovative blend of theater and film is nothing short of brilliant.
In 1993, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s stage adaptation of the 1950 film “Sunset Boulevard” premiered in London, and on Broadway the following year. This production might be considered the final breath of the ’80s style of grandiose musicals – until productions like “The Lion King” and “Wicked” came along to add a twist to the formula. The success of shows such as “Cats”, “Les Misérables”, “The Phantom of the Opera”, and “Miss Saigon” was not only due to their impressive spectacle, but likely more so because of it.
Crowds were drawn to productions like “Cats“, “Les Misérables“, “The Phantom of the Opera“, and “Miss Saigon” due to their innovative stage designs that left a lasting impression. In “Cats“, this was an immersive junkyard setting and the dramatic ascent of worn-out feline Grizabella towards the heavens on an oversized tire. For “Les Misérables“, it was a massive turntable and the shocking unveiling of the Paris Uprising barricade. The climax of “The Phantom of the Opera” featured a colossal chandelier collapsing on stage, while “Miss Saigon” ended with a helicopter landing to evacuate the final Americans during the end of the Vietnam War.
The grand staircase, under the glow of sunset, stood as the breathtaking spectacle within Norma Desmond’s crumbling estate. Towering over the fading opulence, it was crafted for the dramatic entrance and eventual fall from grace of that once-celebrated silent film star. Notable actresses like Patti LuPone, Glenn Close, and Betty Buckley have traversed those stairs, adorned in jeweled attire reminiscent of Salome, the tragic princess whom Norma longed to portray in her fantasized comeback role.
Choosing a musical, given his penchant for sparse, contemporary productions devoid of elaborate sets and props, was an unexpected move for Jamie Lloyd, a British director renowned for his minimalist approach that exposes the raw emotional heart of a script. His most acclaimed works, admired on both sides of the Atlantic, include “Betrayal” with Tom Hiddleston, “A Doll’s House” with Jessica Chastain, and “Cyrano de Bergerac” with James McAvoy.
How well does the production of “Sunset Blvd.” fare without its opulent backdrop that sustained Norma’s illusion of everlasting fame? Remarkably well, it seems. Though some group numbers vary in impact, Lloyd skillfully transforms what was once a grand spectacle into an intimate musical for four characters. The stage design is artfully minimalistic yet reminiscent of the Wilder film, maintaining its black-and-white aesthetic until a bloody red wash overtakes it upon the murder scene.
I must admit that I’ve often viewed Sunset Boulevard as a mediocre musical, made exceptional by a few standout tunes and the spectacular roles it offers to its female leads. However, on this occasion, I find myself viewing it as a profound tragedy with a message relevant to modern audiences. Its explorations of the harsh reality of aging and irrelevance, the seductive lure of fame, the value placed on youth and beauty, and the tragic solace found in madness now resonate more deeply than ever before.
In this production, Lloyd Webber’s rich music is beautifully brought to life by an exceptional ensemble of vocalists. The script penned by Don Black and Christopher Hampton effectively mirrors the eerie atmosphere of the film. However, it’s the vision and performance of the director and lead actor that truly make this show shine.
The headline news of Lloyd’s revival, which comes to Broadway after sweeping the Olivier Awards in its London run, is Nicole Scherzinger’s sensational turn as Norma. Many wondered if the performer, made famous by early 2000s girl group the Pussycat Dolls, was too young, or if she had the stage presence and acting chops for the role. But those concerns vanish almost from the moment she’s hoisted by the chorus into the spotlight during Lloyd’s amusing live-capture opening credits, just as the title appears in the boldest of red fonts.
In the production of the film, Gloria Swanson was 50 years old, while Scherzinger is currently 46. This aligns well with the show’s setting in 1949, as it follows a character who began her career in silent movies at 16. Similar to how Swanson’s real-life history as an early star in the pre-talkie era influenced her character portrayal, there’s a meaningful undercurrent in casting Scherzinger, who has moved beyond mainstream pop music (though she may find success in musical theater).
Scherzinger’s powerful vocals on the musical’s hit songs “With One Look” and “As If We Never Said Goodbye” are breathtaking, often bringing the show to a halt with her high notes that seem to reach for the sky and dramatic key changes. She’s one of the few Normas who can also dance gracefully, adding to her captivating performance. Her authority is undeniable, and director Lloyd ensures we feel every emotion she portrays by frequently using a camera close-up to capture her expressions intimately.
The cameras are mounted on a frame that serves as both a steering wheel at times, and they’re controlled by both chorus members and main performers. While Scherzinger is captivating when she moves like a panther, barefoot and clad in a sleek black satin slip, the instances where we see her performance in two forms – live on stage with a direct gaze into the camera, and in black-and-white on the large, slanted rear screen – create an intense, private atmosphere.
The character Norma displays a dramatic flair reminiscent of silent film era, with intense eyes, sprawled fingers, and tightly stretched arms that reveal every muscle. However, there’s also a layer of sharp wit and theatrical flamboyance present, which eventually takes a back seat as the tragic undertones intensify. As Norma edges towards homicide, her long black tresses give off an eerie vibe reminiscent of Japanese horror flicks.
The main character of that murder case is unemployed screenwriter Joe Gillis, who might be unfamiliar to those who dislike Traditional Chinese Medicine or haven’t watched Billy Wilder’s classic film. However, it’s not a spoiler since the movie begins with William Holden appearing dead in Norma’s swimming pool face-down, and Tom Francis’ Joe is found struggling to free himself from a body bag at the start of the story. He assures us that he will share the true account, rather than the sensationalized versions seen in the newspapers.
The talented Francis, returning to his role as in London, skillfully strikes a harmonious blend between Joe’s cynical ambition and his allure. In essence, he isn’t far removed from Norma, who is ever-prepared with a potential suicide threat to maintain her controlling relationship.
Joe finds himself stuck at a professional impasse, struggling to launch a project and feeling too disheartened to accept the proposal from talented up-and-coming script editor Betty Schaefer to work together on an adaptation of one of his short stories. In a desperate attempt to escape debt collectors, his vehicle swerves into Norma’s grand estate, where she and her loyal butler Max are preparing for the burial of her beloved pet chimp. Believing him to be an undertaker, he unwittingly stumbles into their ceremony.
In one instance, they learn about Joe’s occupation, and Norma becomes intrigued with the notion of enlisting his expertise to polish her grand script for “Salome.” Despite being aware that the venture will never come to fruition, Joe is lured by the prospect of simple earnings. Before he realizes it, Max shifts his belongings into a room above the garage. Norma’s fascination with Joe swiftly transforms into affection; she relocates him to the main house and outfits him in stylish new clothing before whirling him across the floor during a New Year’s Eve party, where he discovers that he is the sole invitee.
In my viewpoint as an ardent fan, by eliminating two interlude tracks titled “The Lady’s Paying” and “Eternal Youth Is Worth a Little Suffering,” Lloyd skillfully magnifies the narrative’s concentration on Norma’s deteriorating mental state. She portrays a majestic comeback to the Paramount studio, encountering Cecil B. DeMille (depicted as Shavey Brown through a shadowed close-up on screen). Despite his ambiguous replies regarding the script that Max handed over a week ago, Norma remains hopeful and confident that her time in front of the cameras is imminent once more.
Jack Knowles’ lighting, frequently glimpsed amidst swirls of smoke, maintains an intensely moody atmosphere across all scenes, with his ingenious employment of vintage pin spots creating striking dramatic shadows. However, the most visually captivating moment occurs when Norma treads upon the film set and is magically transported. When a hidden crew member up on a camera crane recognizes her from earlier times, she is illuminated by a radiant spotlight, made all the more stunning against the black-and-white backdrop of the series.
Scherzinger’s passionate rendition of “As If We Never Said Goodbye” intensifies that enchanting instant, escalating to a heartrending peak at the phrase “I’ve come home at last.” Admittedly, her vocal display of prolonging the note on “home” for what appears extraordinarily lengthy might seem excessive, but it undeniably works, eliciting massive mid-song applause.
Norma’s fantasized victory places her in a lofty position, making her fall from grace all the more swift. Her downfall is expedited when she learns that Joe has been secretly meeting Betty and working on their project together. Betty initially had romantic feelings for Joe’s best friend Artie (Diego Andres Rodriguez), but as her affections change towards Joe, he becomes even more motivated to break free from Norma’s controlling grip.
Keeping Scherzinger stationary at the center stage throughout – even during Max’s account of his unselfish devotion and long-term deceit aimed at making Norma think her fans had never deserted her – positions Norma as an observer of her own mortification.
Lloyd’s arrangement of ensemble pieces seems less compelling compared to the more personal songs, and Fabian Aloise’s choreography tends to be overly energetic, a blend reminiscent of both “A Chorus Line” and “West Side Story”. Although the tension in the final scenes aligns with the shift towards nightmarish terror, it becomes disconcertingly frenetic. The leading performers dart diagonally across the stage like athletes on a track race, which can be quite distracting.
In haunting scenes, the dance routine is more effective when performed by the youthful Norma (Hannah Yun Chamberlain). She adopts a chilling method reminiscent of “Follies,” frequently gliding across the stage as if a specter, intermittently performing Salome’s “Dance of the Seven Veils” expressively.
A well-discussed series unfolds further on an idea hinted at in Lloyd’s “A Doll’s House” by extending the action beyond the stage, drawing comparisons to Ivo van Hove’s video-heavy “Network.” As the intermission concludes and the orchestra plays, Francis navigates, caught on camera, through the intricate maze of backstage passageways and staircases. He occasionally glimpses into his fellow actors’ dressing rooms.
There are humorous visual jokes in this scene – Thaxton is captivated by a Pussycat Dolls poster hanging on his mirror; there’s a full-sized Andrew Lloyd Webber cardboard cutout; someone dressed as a chimpanzee appears; two chorus members are seen kissing; Scherzinger writes “Mad about the boy” on her mirror with lipstick. These playful nods to modernity, such as dance steps out of time, the group’s modern streetwear, the script being typed on a laptop, and a mug from the Jamie Lloyd Company sitting next to it, are reminiscent of other anachronistic elements found throughout this production.
In Act II, the boundaries between theater and cinema blur remarkably as Joe exits through a door, finding himself on 44th Street. He begins to sing the theme song, a bitter lament about the illusion of Hollywood, walking past Sardi’s and turning onto Shubert Alley, only to reappear on stage at the climax of his melody.
Watching the masterful camera movements, capturing an enviable slice of the digital Broadway, it’s hard not to feel that fame and success in any realm can be as unpredictable as a roll of the dice. As I gaze at the screen, it feels like I can almost see the fissures appearing in Norma’s carefully constructed illusion.
Performance Location: Saint James Theatre, New York City
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2024-10-21 05:25