Back in 2003, when the third revival of “Gypsy” opened on Broadway, the big behind-the-scenes news was a spat that broke out in previews between the show’s director, Sam Mendes, and Arthur Laurents’ longtime partner, Tom Hatcher. Laurents wrote the book for the 1959 classic, and went on to direct the first Broadway revival starring Angela Lansbury in 1974, and the second one, starring Tyne Daly in 1989. In other words, the show’s book writer-turned-director harbored proprietary feelings, and Hatcher was there to defend his boyfriend’s prized possession.
There had been doubts about the 2003 revival’s Mama Rose – shouldn’t Bernadette Peters be playing Baby June instead? – but Hatcher voiced much bigger concerns. He told Mendes, “Well, you’ve done something no one’s ever done before. You’ve ruined ‘Gypsy.’” Laurents’ agent from William Morris had to break up the fight, but agreed: The show under Mendes’ direction was too Brechtian, too dark. To prove this point, Laurents went on to direct the fourth revival, starring Patti LuPone in 2008. It’s what many consider the definitive “Gypsy.”
The fifth Broadway revival of “Gypsy” opened Thursday at the Majestic Theatre, and it is the first production there that its book writer and its lyricist, Stephen Sondheim, won’t be able to see. Unfortunately. It’s an audacious production and it is also very, very dark. George C. Wolfe takes over for Laurents and Mendes, and he adds another layer of meaning to a show that is arguably the most layered musical ever written for the Broadway stage. Despite all its revivals, “Gypsy” has never been a mega hit with audiences, even when Ethel Merman first sang the great tunes by Jule Styne.
Rose remains the worst stage mother in theater history, and ironically or not, her spirit lives on next door to the Majestic at the Broadhurst Theatre where the Sam Mendes-directed production of Jez Butterworth’s “The Hills of California” gives us one of the character’s direct descendants, a British mother who attempts to turn her four daughters into the next Andrews Sisters.
Laura Donnelly delivers a big, fierce stage mother in “Hills.” In the new “Gypsy,” Audra McDonald is even bigger and fiercer. Most important, she is physical. Musically, the score lies uncomfortably on McDonald’s register break, especially in “Everything’s Coming Up Roses.” In some ways, it is just another struggle for this Rose to meet and conquer, which she does magnificently in “Rose’s Turn.” Whether this ruthless mom is lying to landlords or ordering around waitresses or directing her adult children (Joy Woods as Louise, Jordan Tyson as June) or flirting with her long-suffering boyfriend Herbie (Danny Burstein, the epitome of generosity), McDonald wins by being tougher and stronger than anyone else on stage and, by extension, the world.
As Wolfe and McDonald see her, Rose has even more reason to fight, and turning her daughter into a stripper is only half of it. Having seen “Gypsy” so often, I was genuinely surprised when the audience at the preview I attended gasped out loud when Rose makes that career choice for Louise. In the new revival, the moment is almost anti-climactic, at least for me. Equally brutal is Rose putting Louise in the cow costume and, before that, replacing all the Black kids in the Newsboys chorus (“Extra! Extra!”) with white teenagers. This cast change from children to adults is one of the show’s most famous moments, and, in the past, has been handled quickly with strobe lights. The scene always gets big applause.
Under Wolfe’s direction, there are no strobe lights and there’s also not much applause, if any. Rather than dazzling us, the moment shocks. Here, Rose singlehandedly replaces each performer, and getting rid of all the Black children in the chorus, she also does away with Louise. June, on the other hand, can pass as white in her curly light brown (almost blond) wig, whether she is being played by the amazing child actor Marley Lianne Gomes or later by Jordan Tyson. As sung by Tyson and Woods, “If Momma Was Married” emerges as an anthem of survival for the two daughters, and is this production’s vocal standout.
Rose now conjures up a much more complicated masterplan, and the scheme begins as soon as she meets Herbie, a former agent turned candy salesman, who, because he’s white, can open doors for her with all the impresarios. Historically, this is very dubious. Theatrically, it is Wolfe’s masterstroke and extends right up to his final take on Gypsy Rose Lee as Josephine Baker.
This is not the definitive “Gypsy.” It is a very different “Gypsy.” And the newsboys are right on the money when they tell us, “Extra! Extra! Historical news is being made.”
