| Cry-Baby |
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| Written by Michael Portantiere | |
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Cry-Baby Book by Mark O'Donnell & Thomas Meehan Songs by David Javerbaum & Adam Schlesinger With James Snyder, Elizabeth Stanley, Harriet Harris, Chester Gregory II, Christopher J. Hanke, Alli Mauzey, Carly Jibson, Lacey Kohl, Richard Poe, Tory Ross Marquis Theatre crybabyonbroadway.com  Elizabeth Stanley and James Snyder in CRY-BABY; photo by Joan Marcus One of the show's biggest problems is that it's very similar in tone, style, and/or certain plot elements to several pre-existing properties, its most obvious antecedents being Grease, All Shook Up, Dirty Dancing, and Footloose. Here we have the slight tale of a “bad boy” who romances a “good girl” in Baltimore circa 1954, bringing raw sex appeal and rock 'n roll to her squeaky-clean world of bobby sox, charm school, and barbershop quartets. The 1990 Waters film version starred Johnny Depp as a kid “too young to be square, too tough to be shocked, too late to be saved.” But without Depp or an equivalent presence, the story is very thin stuff for a Broadway musical. Cry-Baby has a book by Mark O'Donnell & Thomas Meehan, who far more successfully adapted Hairspray. The songs by David Javerbaum & Adam Schlesinger are pretty nifty in and of themselves, featuring catchy rhythmic/melodic hooks and lots of fun lyrics, but they are presented so aggressively and at such a high volume level that it's hard to enjoy them. (This is one of those shows where the pre-performance announcement about cell phones and candy wrappers seems pointless; the unwrapping of candy would be completely inaudible over the super-amplified din, and even a ringing cell phone would most likely go unnoticed.) Mark Brokaw's uninspired direction and the diffident casting of the leads are two more strikes against Cry-Baby. There's nothing wrong with James Snyder's singing and dancing in the role of Wade "Cry-Baby" Walker, but Snyder lacks the requisite high-wattage charisma and smoldering sexuality to play a character who, according to another tag-line for the movie, is "a doll, a dreamboat, a delinquent." Elizabeth Stanley isn't especially charming as Cry-Baby's love interest, Allison, and she looks too mature for the part -- so much so that I found myself giggling every time it was mentioned that she's supposed to be the granddaughter of the character played by Harriet Harris. As always, Harris brings her scrupulous comic timing to the table, and she acquits herself well in her songs. There are nice turns by Chester Gregory II, Alli Mauzey, Carly Jibson, Lacey Kohl, Richard Poe, and Tory Ross in supporting roles. Christopher J. Hanke is very funny indeed as the outwardly Pat Boone-ish Baldwin, leader of the Whiffles. (That's a four-part-harmony singing group.) The real stars of this show are the amazing dancers; they revel in the thrilling, high-energy, hot-as-a-pistol choreography of Rob Ashford, who is almost certain to score a Tony Award nomination for his work here. Scott Pask's scenic design, Catherine Zuber's costumes, and Howell Binkley's lighting are spot-on, but Randy Houston Mercer's makeup does no great favors to several of the cast members. And, as mentioned above, Peter Hylenski's sound design is borderline intolerable in terms of the amplification level. On top of everything else, Cry-Baby has the misfortune to be ensconced in the most poorly designed of all Broadway houses: the Marquis, located in the Marriott on Broadway between 45th and 46th Streets. The unpleasant experience of attending a show here is exacerbated by the failings of this particular show, making for an extremely disappointing evening (or afternoon) at the theater. |
