Audra McDonald, surely the best actress ever to play this iconic role, changes that trajectory in director George C. Wolfe’s disarmingly moving Broadway revival of “Gypsy,” the 1959 masterpiece ostensible about the coming of age of Gypsy Rose Lee, with music by Jule Styne, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and book by Arthur Laurents.
Wolfe puts McDonald in the middle of an unforgiving world, even within her own family, forcing the character to continually fight for her life, not least against her own self.
Wolfe could have made this a more explicitly Black “Gypsy,” had he wished.
As such, and especially with McDonald on the marquee, it could made have a powerful collective statement and I’d imagine it was discussed.
McDonald certain makes a good a case as anyone ever has for Rose qualifying as a tragic hero, and more power to both her and her director.
NEW YORK — Madam Rose is not known for bringing an audience to tears, but rather for winning the powerhouse belt and being named the scariest Bad Showbiz Mother of the Year. Director George C. alters that course with Audra McDonald, who is unquestionably the greatest actress to ever play this legendary role. Wolfe’s disarmingly poignant Broadway adaptation of “Gypsy,” the 1959 masterpiece with music by Jule Styne, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, and a book by Arthur Laurents that pretended to be about Gypsy Rose Lee’s coming of age.
Half of the orchestra audience was wiping their eyes during the performance I attended. A number of times.
Since some combination of Wolfe and McDonald has changed our conventional definitions of fear and pity into something more in line with those required for the tragic condition, the emotions here rush with force, with apologies to Aristotle. In order for us to recognize our own shortcomings in the ones she discloses and our own lost chances in the course of her destiny, McDonald universalizes her harsh personality. Because of the harsh environment in which Wolfe places McDonald—even within her own family—the character is constantly fighting for her life, not least against herself. It is said of her that she is a frontier woman without a frontier. Are we not all?
Broadway regulars will not be surprised that McDonald’s work is remarkably sympathetic, especially when it comes to her use of her so-called head voice in her well-known songs like “Everything’s Coming up Roses.”. McDonald’s authentic voice, which is more operatic than burlesque, implies that Rose’s internalized rage stems from a woman with genuine vocal ability who is sadly underappreciated.
However, that’s not the whole picture. There was never a less eager stripper than Joy Woods’ Louise, who grows increasingly cynical and wound-tight as the show progresses. As a result, you come to understand that the staged reconciliation following “Rose’s Turn” is largely a farce, a sop to the Broadway audiences of 1959, because the past cannot be undone. Even as they gritted their teeth together and gave the obligatory mother-daughter embrace to send the punters out in joy to the sidewalk, Laurents and Sondheim were undoubtedly making that point.
The wonderful thing about “Gypsy,” which is unquestionably one of the best musicals ever made, is how effectively it highlights those markers for filmmakers to follow. Until he witnesses his lover ready to take advantage of her own defenseless daughter and realizes that he will never be able to match her ego, Rose’s boyfriend Herbie, played with obvious pain by Danny Burstein, will put up with anything. As a result, he walks similarly to Jordan Tyson’s lucid June, who is the first to realize Rose is poisonous.
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On the brink of the show’s paradoxes, as choreographed here by Camille A., McDonald and Wolfe keep you dancing delightfully. brown. This “Gypsy,” which is playing across the street from “The Hills of California,” which would not have been possible without it, serves as yet another reminder of the sacrifices made by show people: the heartache, the possibility of failure, and the harsh passage of time for which elderly people are never adequately prepared. The aspirational song “All I Need is the Girl,” which Kevin Csolak’s Tulsa masterfully performs here, is one example of how these original creatives also demonstrate to us why people make these decisions.
If Wolfe had wanted to, he could have made this a more overtly Black “Gypsy.”. The Porchlight Theatre in Chicago used Black vaudeville and burlesque theaters with African American performers for their 2018 production. Accordingly, even if some or all of the theater owners and power brokers were white, as was the case in early 20th-century American show business, there was no reason why Rose’s young people’s troupe and the strippers could not have been composed entirely of Black performers. Therefore, it could have made a strong collective statement, especially with McDonald’s on the marquee, and I’m sure it was discussed.
However, Wolfe ultimately decided to use white adult actors for Tulsa and the majority of Rose’s crew, in order to highlight Black actors in the key roles without resorting to such overt criticism. Therefore, although racial discrimination issues are present, they are not specifically addressed in this production. That might have been a lost chance, considering the necessity of a break between revivals and the appearance of this megawatt star. Despite some surprises in Santo Loquasto’s set, this revival is essentially traditional in many aspects, including staging and design. Because “Gypsy” is such a masterwork of construction, most theatergoers will be perfectly content with that; any deconstruction would feel like a violation.
In spite of this, Wolfe has succeeded in making a significant statement by directing a “Gypsy” for all audiences and expanding the production beyond its original setting and context, much like one might take a King Lear or a Hamlet outside of England or Denmark.
McDonald undoubtedly presents a compelling argument for Rose’s status as a tragic hero, and she and her director deserve more credit for this. And kudos to the always energetic Rose, of course. She is aware, like many of us, that she will die the instant she slows down.
A critic for the Tribune is Chris Jones.
cjones5@chicagotribune.com.
