La Bohème on Broadway
Performance review by Mercy Bell
15 December 2002
"I loved this show, simply loved it. I saw
the matinee yesterday and I’m still thinking about it, and I haven’t stopped
since the end of Act I.
I had formed a bit of an experiment around it, I know next to nothing about opera, and
have never been to one before. The closest I got was watching the end of
"Carmen" with Placido Domingo on PBS, and an open air, free, fundraiser concert
when I was about 11 or 12. They were amusing but far from memorable experiences. Quite
simply, I wanted to see if I could enjoy it as much as a musical or any other piece of
theater. So I went into this knowing only a rudamentary synopsis of the plot, and none of
the songs, and it all worked for me, beautifully.
It was completely packed, and the crowd outside the theater for tickets was large, and
inside the theater, the whole front mezzanine (I couldn’t see the back) was full, as
was the entire orchestra. It took it a while to get started, it must have been ten or
fifteen minutes after 2:00 that it actually started, but in between there was a lot of
work onstage by the crew, who all have "period"(50s) working clothes on, and
which was fascinating to watch, and you get to see these sets raw. They’re beautiful,
even when they’re mainly steel pipes draped and lighted a shadowy gray.
When the show actually started, I was surprised to find that it was easy to see
everything. I had tickets for "row 7" but, I’m guessing because of the
orchestra pit, they had taken out several rows of seats, because I ended up exactly three
rows from the front of the stage. But, despite some fear of missing out and having heard
that seats further back are better, my view was perfectly fine, and it was easy to see
everything going on, though not easy to focus on one thing in particular. As much as I
love it, I’ll admit that Moulin Rouge was brashly excessive and frenetic. Where I
liked that quality of the film, I can easily understand why other people wouldn’t
like it. But Boheme has nothing like that type of flashiness. It’s very reverent in a
way, but it's still incredibly busy. It's VERY busy. There are always three or more things
going on at once, the leads, the supports, the ensemble, the super/side/subtitles, the
music, the props, the costumes, and I had a difficult time focusing on one thing in
particular, though it made it all the more exciting. The business gives it a very layered
feeling and quality, that is only helped by the direction and acting.
The direction is simply brilliant, the shining example of which was the Latin
quarter/Musetta's waltz. I was awestruck by everything going on and the details of every
aspect. And it's like this every scene, whether the whole cast is onstage or not. There
really is acting, from the way the cast moves and walks around and their facial
expressions, to the ensembles' interactions with each other, to the way that the leads
listen to each other. I was very impressed by them all.
A note on the cast, I saw Jesús Garcia and Lisa Hopkins, both of whom are splendid. They
created magic onstage; they exuded almost palpable, tangible emotions and chemistry. Ben
Davis played Marcello, I thought he was great, has a beautiful voice. But I was very
impressed by Christine Arand, who played Musetta in place of Chloe Wright. That fact was
unknown to me as I was watching, I found out after the show when I looked at the slip that
I got, but she has such charisma and talent, she stole almost every scene she was in, not
to mention she has a great voice. I can't say enough on her behalf, and I'd love to see
her play Musetta again. I really did love this cast, though I'm itching to see the other
two sets as well.
I have to focus on the production design: costumes, effects, titles, and sets. These
together are a player on their own, especially since the production allows us to see
everything happening. The titles are great, and are placed wherever you need them to be. I
couldn't be more grateful for their existence, I understood every line of every song
perfectly, and it hindered no part of the experience, in fact they were an enormous plus,
since I could get every single line. The sets would move, the cast would move somewhere,
and the titles would be where you needed them to be. There's a set of titles on the left
and right sides of the stage, one at the top of the stage, and one that moves around the
bottom, inconspicuously attached to a setpiece. Back to the visibility of scene changes,
when they put snow on the ground for Act III, we see them emptying buckets of flakes. When
they move the main set pieces, you see them pushing and pulling everything around. When
they need a light somewhere onstage (for the fire in the stove, for example), a stagehand
kneels there with a light as the cast reacts to it. You get the picture. But where this
might seem like it will ruin the world being created onstage, it doesn't. I was surprised
by that fact, that I could see the reality of getting a scene set up, but could still be
completely immersed and taken on this trip.
And that is what this show does, it takes you on a trip. The combination and symbiosis of
every aspect, the music (simply beautiful, I'd never heard any of it before), the lyrics
(it really is poetry) , the acting, and the visuals create an incredibly potent piece of
art. It was more than a musical, maybe it was more than an average opera, it was an
artistic experience and performance altogether unique and heightened which seemed to have
struck the essence and heart of this simple story, and pulled the rich emotions out of
this piece of classic music and drama. It dragged me everywhere it wanted to go: when it
wanted to evoke a dismal, cold, lonely dawn for Act III, it did with snow and the
shivering, gray-clad ensemble. When it wanted carefree and giddy atmosphere for Act II, it
created the scene it needed with jolly steps, funny scenarios, a gorgeous song, and the
equivalent of onstage fireworks concoted entirely out of costumes, song, blocking, and
acting. At the last scene, the somber, solemn, empty, strange world of a beautiful warm
summer mingling with the coldness of death, the use of contrasting lights, the intensified
orchestra, the stricken characters, Musetta's pleas to heaven, Rodolfo's sobs, and the
glorious music got me crying so that even when they fade out and come out for the curtain
call, I was still crying as I was clapping. But my favorite part, the end of Act I with
the gorgeous "O, Soave Fanciulla", they stand in front of the glowing
"L'amour" sign, as the house gets darker than it already is, and the sign gets
brighter, and brighter till it's the only thing you see. That mental image stayed with me
through the rest of the show, though they never lit it up again. That got me crying, and
the lady next to me was crying, and I could hear sniffles throughout the audience, and
heck, it was a happy moment.
The show got a standing ovation as soon as Act IIII ended, the fastest standing ovation
I've ever been witness to save the last performance of Jane Eyre (to be honest, I haven't
seen that many shows in my life compared to a lot of people I know, but it was still
wonderful to see). As I was leaving, the lady in front of me turned around, patted my arm,
smiled, and said "I'm glad to see that someone else is crying, or else I'd feel
silly." And I never thought I'd use such a cliche, but my heart was full. It's an
inspiring, beautiful show that defies any kind of definite definition. If Mr. Luhrmann and
Co. wanted to bring this 100 year old masterpiece of an opera down to a level anyone off
the street could understand, I can't speak for anyone else, and this may be because I've
never been exposed to this beautiful piece of opera before, but it fulfilled even my
highest expectations, and did it with geniune, real, heartfelt emotion and a deep,
colorful soul with a love for life, and you can feel it buzzing through the air. It's
incredible. Absolutely incredible. And it is what it says: "Baz Luhrmann's production
of Puccini's La Bohème."
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Image copyright Mercy Bell, used with permission