October 11–18, 2001

theater

All Aglow Again

Lady in the Dark

Through Oct. 21, Prince Music Theater, 1412 Chestnut St., 215-569-9700

Lovely ladies: (From left) Alison Fraser, Andrea Marcovicci and Maureen Mueller in Lady in the Dark.

In January 1941, the musical Lady in the Dark set Broadway ablaze. It tells the fictional story of Liza Elliot, the editor of a glamorous fashion magazine who has reached the pinnacle of success but remains romantically unfulfilled. When she finds herself unable to make up her mind in both work and personal life, Liza seeks out a psychoanalyst. Together they explore her dreams. There’s a glamour fantasy in which she is the toast of New York; some poignant recollections of her childhood; and a circus that becomes Liza’s trial for the crime of indecision. In wending her way through her dreams, Liza ultimately finds keys to her waking life.

Lady dealt with psychoanalysis at a time when it was still a little-known topic in public consciousness. Even more innovative was Kurt Weill’s score, where each dream sequence becomes a mini-opera, eschewing the traditional parade of solo songs in favor of something more complex. Ira Gershwin’s lyrics remain a model of sophistication and eloquence seldom equaled before or since. ("A delicate poem by Herrick — / But surely heavier than a derrick / Compared to our Liza — she’s so glamorous / She makes all other women appear Hammacher Schlammorous.")

Lady had everything going for it, including an incandescent star performance. (Gertrude Lawrence in what would be the greatest role of her career.)

Everything but time. Eleven months later, Pearl Harbor changed everything, including our taste in musicals. Lady ran for a few more months, but its brand of brittle elegance was less popular during — and after — the war. In the years since, the enormous challenges of producing the show and its specialized appeal have discouraged major revivals. Lady more or less disappeared from our stages. Most of us know it, if at all, through recordings and legend.

How wonderful to welcome the Lady back — all aglow again in the Prince’s superb revival.

Ted Sperling’s production is a triumph of theatrical vivacity and smarts. He captures perfectly the dazzling world of fashionable ’40s New York. Special kudos here to James Schuette’s set, David Beglou’s costumes, and James F. Ingalls’ lighting — the three have designed as sumptuous a show as I’ve seen in ages.

Lady can’t work without that. But it’s just as important (and much more difficult) to locate its mind and heart. For a contemporary audience to appreciate Liza, we must understand what the journey of self-discovery means to her. And Sperling finds this as well, managing in the process to dispel any doubts we might have had about the timeliness and attitudes toward women inherent in the piece.

I could justifiably exceed my word limit just praising the cast and musical forces. Let me say that everyone is simply terrific, and give special notice to Maureen Mueller as Liza’s Lauren Bacall-ish pal, and especially Mark Vietor, who is absolutely sensational as Russell Paxton. This role made a star out of the young Danny Kaye; it should certainly do the same thing for Vietor. Rob Berman’s musical direction is first-rate.

Andrea Marcovicci is such a classy, graceful performer that I’d love to report she triumphs in every aspect of the title role. She certainly comes close, especially as the controlling editorial persona of the waking Liza. But the wide-ranging music (even transposed into lower keys) doesn’t lie easily for her. She copes, providing the gamut of a smart veteran’s interpretive tricks, but there are times when we want more pure voice than she can provide. Let’s not make too much of it, though. In most other ways Marcovicci is as good a Liza as I ever hoped to see — and I rather suspect that her presence and commitment to the project is a large part of how the show got produced here.

But the real heroine of the evening remains the dark Lady herself. Sixty years after its premiere and superbly resurrected at the Prince, she is back with us, still as fizzy and delicious as a glass of Dom Perignon.

Toss Schiaparelli hats in the air now, please.

—David Anthony Fox