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Havoc on DVD: Old Tony Awards Performances, Part II
Part I
Disc 2 gets a little less dated and a little more contemporary...if by "contemporary" you mean "more people with 80s hair." We start off with Lauren Bacall introducing cohost Brian Stokes Mitchell (side note: When my dad showed this special to us around the time it first aired, he referred to Stokes as "the kinda black guy." I don't know if that's just ignorance or the alcohol buzz he so enjoys at dinnertime, but he really is a big fan of Stokes.) who presents a clip of Patti LuPone singing the title song from Anything Goes. She doesn't do a whole lot of tapping. And you've got your Howard McGillen as Billy Crocker and a battalion of dancers in matching sailor outfits. My dad has this CD and I could never understand any of the words Patti sung on it.
"Bosom Buddies" from Mame. Angela Lansbury and Bea Arthur sing and dance in sequined gowns about how they're best friends. And then we get Robert Morse doing a super-hammy "I Believe in You" from How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. Morse was pretty scary-looking even before he played Truman Capote. Although, one thing I find truly scary is this YouTube video of what happens when opera singers try Jerry Herman.
Stoker Ace over here (other side note: I think I just became the very first person my age to drop a rererence to Stroker Ace!) gives us some background on a show we (I) hadn't heard of, Piaf, starring Royal Shakespeare Company member Jane Lapotaire. She sings "La Vie en Rose," and it's pretty eerie how much she really sounds like Piaf. It gets boring after about two seconds.
Richard Kiley sings "The Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha. I don't know why, but this song has the ability to instantly regress me from a somewhat unpredictably mature twentysomething to a blubbering one-year-old in poopy diapers. Actually, I do sort of know why. However, if you don't want to know why, I suggest skipping the next few paragraphs and going straight to the part about Ain't Misbehavin'.
See, Man of La Mancha is my dad's favorite musical. He talks endlessly about seeing it at the ANTA Theatre with Richard Kiley in the title role. If you watched last Monday's "How I Met Your Mother," you should know, or at least get the reference, that musical theatre, to me, is like Ted and baseball. Which is, to say, the only thing I can talk to my dad about without him blowing a gasket. As long as I don't tie it into my own issues. Which is tough, because my dad usually does, whether I appreciate it or not.
He has seen this show on repeat business, both on and off-Broadway, and owns both the original and the revival cast recordings. Mind you, I have never even seen the movie version, but I saw a local production of this show when I was very young. If you have never seen Man of La Mancha, it is a musical about the fabled author/political activist Cervantes, but it is also a musicalization of his most famous story, "Don Quixote." The show is unique in that the whole story is told by Cervantes, who "plays" Don Quixote, and acted out/believed by his fellow inmates, who play all of the other roles, including the Windmill.* The story of Don Quixote and his "impossible dream" is essentially Cervantes's justification as to why he is a political prisoner.
Anyway, the only thing anyone ever remembers about Man of La Mancha is that song. Because, within the context of the show, it packs this extremely unsettling emotional wallop. And, I mean, come on. Who's going to tell Richard fucking Kiley that the Golden Helmet of Mambrino is really an unwashed bedpan? Clearly, the character of Cervantes has some serious issues.
That being said, this song and its version by Richard Kiley can pretty much get me to weep on cue barely marking the part just before "and the world will be better for this," where he almost internally rhymes "quest" with "rest." Same goes for when Brian Stokes Mitchell performed it on the Tonys a few years ago, and my mom unwittingly caught me blubbering like a moron in the popcorn bowl. But when they did it on "American Idol" and "Saved by the Bell"? That was just plain wrong.
Now that I've got my deep-seated psychological issues with Dale Wasserman, Joe Darion, and Mitch Leigh out of the way, where were we? A number from Ain't Misbehavin'. We did this show locally, too, and people really didn't like it. Probably because there are only five actors, no plot, and nothing fucking happens in it. But I like this show and its brilliant supporting turn by Nell Carter (of blessed memory), whose moves and facial expressions are just priceless. During the big tap break, she gives this look that's like, "Oh, hell no, I ain't doin' that." And she does it anyway! By the way, of the songs in that show? "The Viper's Drag" kicks fucking ass!
And here's "Take a Glass Together" from Grand Hotel, which I really, really want to see for myself, because, man! If that's one number from the show? The rest of it must really kick ass. Michael Jeter and Brent Barrett sing and do weird moves behind a barre and that's your brilliant Tommy Tune choreography right there where Jeter moves his legs and torso around like he doesn't even have any bones in his body. It's freaky! But what little else I know about Grand Hotel: The Musical is as follows: It's a very complicated, very muddled, kooky murder mystery set in Germany during World War II, where every character is repressed, diseased, and/or suicidal to the point of it being massively symbolic. Why they ever made a musical out of the movie, I will never comprehend; probably because the inscrutably complicated characters (who really border on farce) are catnip to any discerning musical theatre actor/singer/dancer, and if the last name of the guy commandeering this is "Tune," clearly you're in very good hands.
The only other thing I know about Grand Hotel: The Musical is that it gave way to the Best. Forbidden Broadway. Parody. Ever. "Ah, Kringelein, the bookkeeper. Here to enjoy his last days here at Grim Hotel before he dies of terminal symbolism." "You want Dr. Von Shrapnel? He's in the lobby, shooting up!" Classic. It's scary to think that Jeter is no longer with us. Barrett's not dead. He's just doing Phantom in Las Vegas.
I totally skipped over this next one: "That's How You Jazz" from Jelly's Last Jam. Starring the brilliant triple-threat Gregory Hines. As much as it comforts me to know that Tommy Tune is still among the living, I don't like seeing so many dead people on this.
Okay, next up? The fourth (fourth?) Broadway revival of Guys & Dolls. The set, costumes, and choreography look like they came straight out of a high school, but Guys & Dolls tends to remind me of high school in general, so, I don't think there's much to write about here. Especially if the number is "Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat." Which, aside from "The Crapshooter's Dance," couldn't be more high school if it tried. I know Walter Bobbie, who plays Nicely-Nicely Johnson on this is now a director, but the thing I can't stop focusing on is the fact that Vern Schillinger plays one of the gangsters. That was the only thing about this I could never truly get over. Also? The guy who plays Big Jule is, like, eight feet tall!
Maybe it's the other leads. If Nathan Lane, Faith Prince, Josie de Guzman, and Peter "How does it feel to be nailed by the King?" Gallagher all appear to stand the same exact height, they must be freaking tiny!
Here's "I Am What I Am" from the original La Cage aux Folles. It's pretty cool for what it is. I don't like the fact that, towards the end of the big dance number, all of the chorus members pull of their wigs, and it's quite obvious that there are some girls stuck in there with the Cagelles to fill in all the gaps. And it ends with everyone singing that big last chord, with some obligatory soprano singing a high "C." It's kind of disappointing watching this. But my sister saw the revival and loved it. Probably because, by that time, they could actually find dudes who could sing high C and do a frak of a lot more than parading around in heels and evening gowns (we're talking full-on gymnastics, people). Then, the "leading lady of La Cage aux Folles," George Hearn comes out in a tuxedo, in front of a drawing of his character, Zaza, and sings "I Am What I Am." It's a great moment, because he's just so hammy in this. The tune is pretty much old-fashioned but the lyrics are very politically outspoken for the early 80s. A friend of mine still can't believe Hearn as anything other than Sweeney Todd, and she freaked when I told her he won his Tony for playing a drag queen ("Noooo!"). I like the rhyme they came up with for "closet." So, this is the show that beat out Sunday in the Park with George for Best Musical? That. Is. Awesome.
Okay. A medley from the original cast of Les Miserables. "At the End of the Day" and then "One Day More." If you really care about how the new cast is going to measure up, watch this video and get back to me. I think it's promising, but you'll probably want to slug me for saying that.
Honestly, the only things I could think while watching that video were "They finally let black people be in this show!" "There must be a reason we don't get to hear Marius sing..." and "What the hell is Marya Grandy doing in the background? Get her out of the chorus, you stupid Brits!"
Here's what I've learned from this DVD: Broadway is like some Bizarro World opposite to the "American Idol" universe where the men can out-belt the girls, as opposed to the other way around, where "belting" to guys sounds a lot more like "screaming." And, just by watching Colm Wilkinson hit that penultimate note when he sings the line "ONE DAY MOOOOOORRRRE!" (and also seeing the new Valjean belt higher, louder notes than that on the linked video?) on key? It gives me some hope that people's conceptions of great belting can go beyond bad Celine Dion covers on reality television. It can also refer to Messrs. Wilkinson, Hearn (whose tongue looks like it's about to detach from his huge vocal cords during the "I Am What I Am" clip), Orbach, and McGillen (who could hold his own opposite LuPone and Buckley? All those out-belting contests must have given his audiences a massive headache).
Anyway, the "divos" are all over here, so if you're interested in the girls (LuPone, Buckley, Loudon), take your chances with Disc 1.
Here's one that's mercifully short: "You'll Never Walk Alone" from the Lincoln Center revival of Carousel in the mid-90s. This show is so antiquated. What I can't understand is, out of all the numbers in the show, why did they do Billy's death scene for the big Tony number? Why not something with, y'know, energy, like "A Real Nice Clambake," or "Stonecutters Cut It on Stone"? I don't know who played Julie Jordan in this, and I really don't care to find out. Although, there's Audra McDonald in the chorus as Carrie Pipperidge. I can't find Fisher Stevens, who played Jigger. There's Eddie Korbich with the freaky facial hair as Mr. Snow. Hilarious. He's not to be confused with Jeffrey Kuhn, who wears a similarly funny "Pringles Man" fake moustache in the Ragtime clip, but Korbich was the original Giuseppe Zangara in Assassins and Kuhn played Zangara in the revival, so I guess that sort of clears things up.
Hmm...what else? Jerry Orbach takes off his shirt and pants and manages to still be able to sing with a cigar in his mouth in "All I Care About Is Love" from the flop version of Chicago ("Can you believe it? A flop version of Chicago. Yes, I was in that flop that ran for three years!" Gerard Alessandrini is a genius.); Katherine Hepburn plays Coco Chanel in the longest Tony Award performance ever taped: An entire scene from the show Coco followed by a song, followed by an opulent fashion show, followed by the rest of the song! Every time I see Hepburn I think of Eleanor Sherman from "The Critic." Then we're treated to "Lambeth Walk" from Me and My Girl, which was a wacky British import in the early nineties, but was actually (obviously) from 1915. The best thing about this is that the cast members run out into the audience and hassle people like James Earl Jones and Malcolm McDowell. They should do that in more shows where people don't play cats.
More bonuses: Tom Bosley doing this number from Fiorello! (another one of my dad's favorites...he always used to sing this song around the house and I never knew what it was supposed to be) about Tammany Hall. He appeals to some stereotypically energetic chorus people (including Dolemite and some girl wearing a head scarf who really looks a lot like Beth Leavel) by singing to them in every dialect that was common to New Yorkers during Fiorello LaGuardia's mayoral campaign. Leading me to believe the entire population of New York City begins and ends with just Italians and Jews. Speaking of, it's "Be Italian" from Nine, which is endlessly fascinating to me. Little boys wearing kneepads? That rather large woman with the beady eyes and 80s flattop perm who's featured on every Sondheim tribute DVD ever made?
It is at this point that I grab the original Nine Playbill from 1981 that I bought at a flea market for $.25 and check that her name, was, indeed, Susan Terry. And she was never in Nine.
Finally, there's a medley from the original Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Now, here's a musical made for a high school, because there are no sets, and the men's costumes allow for little more than funny hats and overalls with patches on them denoting which brothers they are. This is a "medley" in the sense that, if you've never seen or done it in high school, it's still the entire damn show. There's no set or real lighting, just a bare stage. They sing a few lines from every song. In a really accelerated speed. First, "Jacob and Sons," and the narrator is played by the late, beloved Laurie Beechman. I take back whatever it was I said about girls not being good belters. Then "One More Angel in Heaven," "Those Canaan Days," "Benjamin's Calypso," "Potiphar," "Pharoah's Story," "Go, Go, Go Joseph"...they just don't stop! Even if the songs totally aren't in sequence! Then they run out into the audience and act crazy. Then the Pharoah comes out with some wicked bulge in his jumpsuit costume and sings some of "Seven Fat Cows." And, finally, Joseph comes out and sings "Any Dream Will Do." This is pretty dated. Obviously, the costumes don't look as "Free to Be You and Me" as they do here. And Bill Hutton's hair is still caught somewhere between 1975 and 1983. But the dreamcoat itself actually looks like it was stolen from a Bible preschool.
Lloyd Webber, you rapscallion.
*pre-John Doyle's Sweeney Todd
Part I
Disc 2 gets a little less dated and a little more contemporary...if by "contemporary" you mean "more people with 80s hair." We start off with Lauren Bacall introducing cohost Brian Stokes Mitchell (side note: When my dad showed this special to us around the time it first aired, he referred to Stokes as "the kinda black guy." I don't know if that's just ignorance or the alcohol buzz he so enjoys at dinnertime, but he really is a big fan of Stokes.) who presents a clip of Patti LuPone singing the title song from Anything Goes. She doesn't do a whole lot of tapping. And you've got your Howard McGillen as Billy Crocker and a battalion of dancers in matching sailor outfits. My dad has this CD and I could never understand any of the words Patti sung on it.
"Bosom Buddies" from Mame. Angela Lansbury and Bea Arthur sing and dance in sequined gowns about how they're best friends. And then we get Robert Morse doing a super-hammy "I Believe in You" from How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. Morse was pretty scary-looking even before he played Truman Capote. Although, one thing I find truly scary is this YouTube video of what happens when opera singers try Jerry Herman.
Stoker Ace over here (other side note: I think I just became the very first person my age to drop a rererence to Stroker Ace!) gives us some background on a show we (I) hadn't heard of, Piaf, starring Royal Shakespeare Company member Jane Lapotaire. She sings "La Vie en Rose," and it's pretty eerie how much she really sounds like Piaf. It gets boring after about two seconds.
Richard Kiley sings "The Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha. I don't know why, but this song has the ability to instantly regress me from a somewhat unpredictably mature twentysomething to a blubbering one-year-old in poopy diapers. Actually, I do sort of know why. However, if you don't want to know why, I suggest skipping the next few paragraphs and going straight to the part about Ain't Misbehavin'.
See, Man of La Mancha is my dad's favorite musical. He talks endlessly about seeing it at the ANTA Theatre with Richard Kiley in the title role. If you watched last Monday's "How I Met Your Mother," you should know, or at least get the reference, that musical theatre, to me, is like Ted and baseball. Which is, to say, the only thing I can talk to my dad about without him blowing a gasket. As long as I don't tie it into my own issues. Which is tough, because my dad usually does, whether I appreciate it or not.
He has seen this show on repeat business, both on and off-Broadway, and owns both the original and the revival cast recordings. Mind you, I have never even seen the movie version, but I saw a local production of this show when I was very young. If you have never seen Man of La Mancha, it is a musical about the fabled author/political activist Cervantes, but it is also a musicalization of his most famous story, "Don Quixote." The show is unique in that the whole story is told by Cervantes, who "plays" Don Quixote, and acted out/believed by his fellow inmates, who play all of the other roles, including the Windmill.* The story of Don Quixote and his "impossible dream" is essentially Cervantes's justification as to why he is a political prisoner.
Anyway, the only thing anyone ever remembers about Man of La Mancha is that song. Because, within the context of the show, it packs this extremely unsettling emotional wallop. And, I mean, come on. Who's going to tell Richard fucking Kiley that the Golden Helmet of Mambrino is really an unwashed bedpan? Clearly, the character of Cervantes has some serious issues.
That being said, this song and its version by Richard Kiley can pretty much get me to weep on cue barely marking the part just before "and the world will be better for this," where he almost internally rhymes "quest" with "rest." Same goes for when Brian Stokes Mitchell performed it on the Tonys a few years ago, and my mom unwittingly caught me blubbering like a moron in the popcorn bowl. But when they did it on "American Idol" and "Saved by the Bell"? That was just plain wrong.
Now that I've got my deep-seated psychological issues with Dale Wasserman, Joe Darion, and Mitch Leigh out of the way, where were we? A number from Ain't Misbehavin'. We did this show locally, too, and people really didn't like it. Probably because there are only five actors, no plot, and nothing fucking happens in it. But I like this show and its brilliant supporting turn by Nell Carter (of blessed memory), whose moves and facial expressions are just priceless. During the big tap break, she gives this look that's like, "Oh, hell no, I ain't doin' that." And she does it anyway! By the way, of the songs in that show? "The Viper's Drag" kicks fucking ass!
And here's "Take a Glass Together" from Grand Hotel, which I really, really want to see for myself, because, man! If that's one number from the show? The rest of it must really kick ass. Michael Jeter and Brent Barrett sing and do weird moves behind a barre and that's your brilliant Tommy Tune choreography right there where Jeter moves his legs and torso around like he doesn't even have any bones in his body. It's freaky! But what little else I know about Grand Hotel: The Musical is as follows: It's a very complicated, very muddled, kooky murder mystery set in Germany during World War II, where every character is repressed, diseased, and/or suicidal to the point of it being massively symbolic. Why they ever made a musical out of the movie, I will never comprehend; probably because the inscrutably complicated characters (who really border on farce) are catnip to any discerning musical theatre actor/singer/dancer, and if the last name of the guy commandeering this is "Tune," clearly you're in very good hands.
The only other thing I know about Grand Hotel: The Musical is that it gave way to the Best. Forbidden Broadway. Parody. Ever. "Ah, Kringelein, the bookkeeper. Here to enjoy his last days here at Grim Hotel before he dies of terminal symbolism." "You want Dr. Von Shrapnel? He's in the lobby, shooting up!" Classic. It's scary to think that Jeter is no longer with us. Barrett's not dead. He's just doing Phantom in Las Vegas.
I totally skipped over this next one: "That's How You Jazz" from Jelly's Last Jam. Starring the brilliant triple-threat Gregory Hines. As much as it comforts me to know that Tommy Tune is still among the living, I don't like seeing so many dead people on this.
Okay, next up? The fourth (fourth?) Broadway revival of Guys & Dolls. The set, costumes, and choreography look like they came straight out of a high school, but Guys & Dolls tends to remind me of high school in general, so, I don't think there's much to write about here. Especially if the number is "Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat." Which, aside from "The Crapshooter's Dance," couldn't be more high school if it tried. I know Walter Bobbie, who plays Nicely-Nicely Johnson on this is now a director, but the thing I can't stop focusing on is the fact that Vern Schillinger plays one of the gangsters. That was the only thing about this I could never truly get over. Also? The guy who plays Big Jule is, like, eight feet tall!
Maybe it's the other leads. If Nathan Lane, Faith Prince, Josie de Guzman, and Peter "How does it feel to be nailed by the King?" Gallagher all appear to stand the same exact height, they must be freaking tiny!
Here's "I Am What I Am" from the original La Cage aux Folles. It's pretty cool for what it is. I don't like the fact that, towards the end of the big dance number, all of the chorus members pull of their wigs, and it's quite obvious that there are some girls stuck in there with the Cagelles to fill in all the gaps. And it ends with everyone singing that big last chord, with some obligatory soprano singing a high "C." It's kind of disappointing watching this. But my sister saw the revival and loved it. Probably because, by that time, they could actually find dudes who could sing high C and do a frak of a lot more than parading around in heels and evening gowns (we're talking full-on gymnastics, people). Then, the "leading lady of La Cage aux Folles," George Hearn comes out in a tuxedo, in front of a drawing of his character, Zaza, and sings "I Am What I Am." It's a great moment, because he's just so hammy in this. The tune is pretty much old-fashioned but the lyrics are very politically outspoken for the early 80s. A friend of mine still can't believe Hearn as anything other than Sweeney Todd, and she freaked when I told her he won his Tony for playing a drag queen ("Noooo!"). I like the rhyme they came up with for "closet." So, this is the show that beat out Sunday in the Park with George for Best Musical? That. Is. Awesome.
Okay. A medley from the original cast of Les Miserables. "At the End of the Day" and then "One Day More." If you really care about how the new cast is going to measure up, watch this video and get back to me. I think it's promising, but you'll probably want to slug me for saying that.
Honestly, the only things I could think while watching that video were "They finally let black people be in this show!" "There must be a reason we don't get to hear Marius sing..." and "What the hell is Marya Grandy doing in the background? Get her out of the chorus, you stupid Brits!"
Here's what I've learned from this DVD: Broadway is like some Bizarro World opposite to the "American Idol" universe where the men can out-belt the girls, as opposed to the other way around, where "belting" to guys sounds a lot more like "screaming." And, just by watching Colm Wilkinson hit that penultimate note when he sings the line "ONE DAY MOOOOOORRRRE!" (and also seeing the new Valjean belt higher, louder notes than that on the linked video?) on key? It gives me some hope that people's conceptions of great belting can go beyond bad Celine Dion covers on reality television. It can also refer to Messrs. Wilkinson, Hearn (whose tongue looks like it's about to detach from his huge vocal cords during the "I Am What I Am" clip), Orbach, and McGillen (who could hold his own opposite LuPone and Buckley? All those out-belting contests must have given his audiences a massive headache).
Anyway, the "divos" are all over here, so if you're interested in the girls (LuPone, Buckley, Loudon), take your chances with Disc 1.
Here's one that's mercifully short: "You'll Never Walk Alone" from the Lincoln Center revival of Carousel in the mid-90s. This show is so antiquated. What I can't understand is, out of all the numbers in the show, why did they do Billy's death scene for the big Tony number? Why not something with, y'know, energy, like "A Real Nice Clambake," or "Stonecutters Cut It on Stone"? I don't know who played Julie Jordan in this, and I really don't care to find out. Although, there's Audra McDonald in the chorus as Carrie Pipperidge. I can't find Fisher Stevens, who played Jigger. There's Eddie Korbich with the freaky facial hair as Mr. Snow. Hilarious. He's not to be confused with Jeffrey Kuhn, who wears a similarly funny "Pringles Man" fake moustache in the Ragtime clip, but Korbich was the original Giuseppe Zangara in Assassins and Kuhn played Zangara in the revival, so I guess that sort of clears things up.
Hmm...what else? Jerry Orbach takes off his shirt and pants and manages to still be able to sing with a cigar in his mouth in "All I Care About Is Love" from the flop version of Chicago ("Can you believe it? A flop version of Chicago. Yes, I was in that flop that ran for three years!" Gerard Alessandrini is a genius.); Katherine Hepburn plays Coco Chanel in the longest Tony Award performance ever taped: An entire scene from the show Coco followed by a song, followed by an opulent fashion show, followed by the rest of the song! Every time I see Hepburn I think of Eleanor Sherman from "The Critic." Then we're treated to "Lambeth Walk" from Me and My Girl, which was a wacky British import in the early nineties, but was actually (obviously) from 1915. The best thing about this is that the cast members run out into the audience and hassle people like James Earl Jones and Malcolm McDowell. They should do that in more shows where people don't play cats.
More bonuses: Tom Bosley doing this number from Fiorello! (another one of my dad's favorites...he always used to sing this song around the house and I never knew what it was supposed to be) about Tammany Hall. He appeals to some stereotypically energetic chorus people (including Dolemite and some girl wearing a head scarf who really looks a lot like Beth Leavel) by singing to them in every dialect that was common to New Yorkers during Fiorello LaGuardia's mayoral campaign. Leading me to believe the entire population of New York City begins and ends with just Italians and Jews. Speaking of, it's "Be Italian" from Nine, which is endlessly fascinating to me. Little boys wearing kneepads? That rather large woman with the beady eyes and 80s flattop perm who's featured on every Sondheim tribute DVD ever made?
It is at this point that I grab the original Nine Playbill from 1981 that I bought at a flea market for $.25 and check that her name, was, indeed, Susan Terry. And she was never in Nine.
Finally, there's a medley from the original Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Now, here's a musical made for a high school, because there are no sets, and the men's costumes allow for little more than funny hats and overalls with patches on them denoting which brothers they are. This is a "medley" in the sense that, if you've never seen or done it in high school, it's still the entire damn show. There's no set or real lighting, just a bare stage. They sing a few lines from every song. In a really accelerated speed. First, "Jacob and Sons," and the narrator is played by the late, beloved Laurie Beechman. I take back whatever it was I said about girls not being good belters. Then "One More Angel in Heaven," "Those Canaan Days," "Benjamin's Calypso," "Potiphar," "Pharoah's Story," "Go, Go, Go Joseph"...they just don't stop! Even if the songs totally aren't in sequence! Then they run out into the audience and act crazy. Then the Pharoah comes out with some wicked bulge in his jumpsuit costume and sings some of "Seven Fat Cows." And, finally, Joseph comes out and sings "Any Dream Will Do." This is pretty dated. Obviously, the costumes don't look as "Free to Be You and Me" as they do here. And Bill Hutton's hair is still caught somewhere between 1975 and 1983. But the dreamcoat itself actually looks like it was stolen from a Bible preschool.
Lloyd Webber, you rapscallion.
*pre-John Doyle's Sweeney Todd
posted by Gypsy at 12:25 PM
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