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By
FRANK BEHRENS
Leonard Bernstein's
"Candide" is not the best of all possible
musicals, but it does have a very good score and
some really good lyrics. The problem is that its
initial failure -- or more accurately, lack of
popularity -- led to too many hands in the
revising. So by the time, a semi-staged concert
version was telecast in May of 2004, we had lyrics
by Richard Wilbur with additional lyrics by
Stephen Sondheim, John Latouche, Lillian Hellman,
and the composer himself. This is what happens
when a great comic operetta is given to an
audience expecting a Broadway musical. Still, the
over-tinkered version is what they chose to give
and we are lucky to have that "Candide" on the
Image Entertainment label.
The cast is quite good. In the triple role of the
Narrator, Voltaire and Dr. Pangloss is the opera
bass-baritone Thomas Allen. Paul Groves is
Candide, chasing around the world for his beloved
Cunegonde, played by the very petite and pretty
Kristin Chenoweth, who in turn is being pursued by
just about every other male in the cast and
chorus. (Many will object to her delight in being
gang-raped, which got a cheap laugh from a willing
audience.)
Jeff Blumenkranz is the repulsive Maximilian and
Janine La Manna the sexy Paquette. I think Patti
LuPone overdoes it a bit with her Old Lady, and
her thick stage accent does make her a bit
difficult to understand. A bit too much of la
Grande Dame, if you know what I mean. Marin Alsop
does a great job conducting the large cast and
very active Westminster Symphonic Choir as well as
the New York Philharmonic.
I think "very active" is the key phrase here. I
found everything just a little TOO busy. There
were so many sight gags, so much of the large
chorus running across the stage, that Bernstein's
score and much of the lyrics began to take second
place. Seeing Candide preparing for his departure
from the castle by packing an LP of "West Side
Story" really added nothing to "Candide," but his
then putting in a broken (cardboard) heart was a
good touch.
All in all, many will enjoy this memory of what
television is best at. And perhaps some really
daring producer will consider giving us what
Bernstein originally had in mind, even if Lillian
Hellman told all and sundry how much she disliked
her own part in it. |