By Ron Fassler . . .
It’s hard to believe that the first off-Broadway edition of Forbidden Broadway was forty-one years ago. I remember it all too well as I saw it at the old Palsson’s Supper Club—now the Triad Theatre—on West 72nd Street. Gerard Alessandrini, whose idea it was and who cleverly crafted its script of song parodies as well as appeared as a member of its four-person cast, then spoofed the 1982 Broadway season. Dreamgirls, Nine and long-running shows like Cats were in their infancy. At 2,332 performances, and with an overhead far cheaper to maintain, the first Forbidden Broadway ran longer than Dreamgirls and Nine combined! Subsequent editions, of which there are too many to count, have entertained not only in New York but in other major cities across the U.S. and abroad. It’s a franchise, so much so that one was even titled Forbidden Broadway: Special Victims Unit. Some of its alumni have included names we now know, like Jason Alexander, Bryan Batt, Michael McGrath, Ann Morrison, Brad Oscar, Christine Pedi, Barbara Walsh and Chloe Webb.
With that preamble out of the way, this report is on a new edition—titled Forbidden Sondheim: Merrily We Stole a Song—that opened for two nights this week at the cabaret Don’t Tell Mama on West 46th Street. Devoting an entire show solely to The Master held promise, but it quickly became clear it was going to straightjacket the proceedings. Relegating every parody to one composer is like homing in on the dances of just Bob Fosse or the films of Michael Bay. A sameness creeps in, even with someone as versatile as Sondheim. Add to that the fact that his songs are notorious mouthfuls (after all, the opening number is “Into the Words”) and are deeply crafted acting soliloquies in their original sources. It’s much easier to lampoon Annie’s “Tomorrow” than it is Follies’ “The God-Why-Don’t-You-Love-Me Blues.”
The evening’s offerings have been culled mostly from various old Forbidden Broadways, a sort of “greatest hits” compilation. It was wonderful having Christine Pedi on board with her Elaine Stritch impersonation, but it’s been nine years since Stritch died. And takeoffs of Ethel Merman and Ann Miller, both long gone, can’t possibly score the way they once did. Forbidden Broadway has always been known for its bite, and bringing back these golden oldies feels toothless. Jokes about Sunday in the Park with George being half a show or Ann Miller killing “L.B. Mayer with my hair” can only go so far in the year 2023. Alessandrini is on much firmer ground when he’s current, as with the latest Sweeney Todd revival, taking on how unscary Josh Groban is by singing, “The nicest guy you’ll ever meet is playing a Sweeney incredibly sweet.”
A good cast has been gathered. In addition to having the always-welcome Pedi back for an encore, Jenny Lee Stern makes a wonderful Patti LuPone with the lung power and grand gestures to match. It’s obvious when caricaturing “Ladies Who Lunch” that she not only worked tirelessly on the vocal eccentrics but has watched videos of the way LuPone holds a martini glass just so. Dayna Jarae Dantzler was aided by getting to play outside the Sondheim sandbox more than some of the others, pulling off brief send-ups of Six and Some Like it Hot, as well as the recently departed New York, New York (“Start spreading the news” translates to “You’ve read the reviews”). Chris Collins-Pasano showcases a robust tenor voice (perfect for mimicking Mandy Patinkin), and a well-honed comedic sensibility. He also did himself a solid as the sole member of the cast to have made the extra effort to be off-book as much as possible, considering what a minefield Sondheim’s tongue-twisting lyrics can be even when satirized. Michael West’s arched eyebrow and strong voice helped communicate a great deal of self-inflicted mockery in his portrayal of Sondheim for much of the evening,
Special credit to Fred Barton on the piano, who has the distinction of being the co-creator/arranger/performer/pianist of the original Forbidden Broadway company. Time seems to have not affected his passion and craftsmanship. It was a pleasure watching him pour his heart and soul into each number.
It’s nice to see Forbidden Broadway back in a tiny, crowded club. Next time, a return to its tried and true format of ridiculing all things musical is best recommended. Personally, there’s never been a Sondheim revue that’s worked for me. Pastiches like Marry Me a Little, Putting it Together and Sondheim by Sondheim have been valiant attempts at weaving songs in smart ways to create something new, but don’t really work out of context since they are so deeply woven into the shows from which they were birthed. I guess in the end even too much of a genius like Sondheim can be, well . . . too much.
Forbidden Sondheim: Merrily We Stole a Song took place August 23-24 at Don’t Tell Mama (343 West 46th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues). www.donttellmamanyc.com
Photos: Maryann Lopinto
