THEATRE REVIEW:
“THE EDUCATION OF RANDY
NEWMAN” At South Coast Repertory Theatre
SUBMISSION DATE: JUNE 22, 2000
Online@kpbs.org
Composer Randy Newman
loves to grate against the grain of society. His songs often set gritty lyrics
to sunny melodies, reflecting his jarringly humorous, slyly sarcastic view of
America. So one might have hoped that a musical culled from his huge canon
would also be amusingly off-kilter. But "The Education of Randy
Newman" isn't much of a musical at all. It's a revue, comprising some 40+
songs, with no dialogue, and a loose chronology that supposedly traces Newman's
socio-political evolution and life-changing move from the faux gentility of New
Orleans to the (faux everything) wilds of L.A., the two cities that helped shape
his mentality and his music.
The title and conceit
were supposedly derived from the ground-breaking turn-of-last-century
autobiography, "The Education of Henry Adams." But there are only
vague and oblique references to writing that don't really work, and not all the
songs fit neatly into the predetermined (semi-autobiographical) structure.
In the first act, a
songwriter (the Newman alter-ego) is reduced to a zhlubby observer, as Southern
life goes on around him. In the 2nd act (after the move to L.A.), he's
more proactive, falling in and out of a marriage or two and making a big splash
in the music biz. Except for big, obvious events, the Synopsis contains far
more detail than would ever be perceived by just watching the show.
The singing is good,
with several knockout numbers by Jennifer Leigh Warren, with Gregg Henry most
closely capturing the composer/lyricist's sardonic style. The vocal
arrangements and orchestrations (by co-conceiver Michael Roth) are terrific,
but the staging (Myron Johnson) is generally static and often repetitive, and
for a revue, the seven performers are surprisingly less attractive and less
multi-talented than one might hope. So choreography is pretty much out of the
question.
Mostly, this is a great
initiation or re-introduction to the spirited songs of Randy Newman, and this
format, given little else but slides to look at, forces you to pay close
attention to those often chilling and unsettling lyrics. From
"Rednecks" to "Fat Boys," Newman takes no prisoners; yet he
obviously loves his disappointing and frustrating homeland, and his cockeyed
optimism invariably peeks through.
©2000 Patté Productions
Inc.