Great Moments in New York Theater: Steel Pier

Steel Pier is widely acknowledged as a flop musical. I guess the people who saw the show and didn’t like it didn’t see the show I saw. But then, I was at the Gypsy Run Through.

The Gypsy Run Through is the last dress rehearsal of a Broadway play before the general public and press are allowed in. It has an invited audience of friends and family – an audience that is made up, almost entirely, by show business people. We have attended a few of these. Steel Pier was one of the most memorable Gypsy Run Throughs I have attended.

A longtime fan of the musicals of Kander and Ebb, I knew I would like the show – it was inevitable. There was something special about it, for me, though. I genuinely love that score; I truly adored that cast; hell I even liked the time period and that is saying a lot (a depression era musical – doesn’t sound appetizing, does it? I mean, unless it’s ANNIE, right?). It was obvious to me that what this was meant to be was a musical of They Shoot Horses, Don’t They but when the obvious changes in storyline indicated that it wasn’t a retelling of that awful (in a completely artistically triumphant, slit your wrist out of depression after it is over kind of way) movie, I went with it. And I bought it. I imagine that the reason I bought it (that is to say the reason that put me over the top) was Karen Ziemba; because I loved the whole show. It was tuneful, colourful, glitzy, dance-filled… it was my kind of show. Admittedly, the glitz became a problem as the show moved forward because these characters are dance marathoners and they are supposed to get more tired and haggard and run down and they were still pretty much just as clean and pretty at the end of the show as they were at the beginning…that was a directorial choice that could have been changed but not one that, I felt, could have caused the total failure of the show.

But I digress. Let’s get back to Karen Ziemba. I have never kept my adoration of this artist a secret. She is a wonderful actor, a delicious dancer and an enjoyable singer; more to the point, though, is that she exudes a charm and warmth that always makes me cheer for her – and in this role, you were required to cheer for her. The character was so likeable, so lovely, so much one of us – the dreamers, the real people who just want something more. To make us be even more in touch with her, she had a villain in her life – her own husband! Ech. Karen had great numbers in this show, including a (it has to be said) McKechnie-esque rant in which the character recognizes the villain that is her husband, sings her tantrum and then climaxes her diatribe with a tour de force of dance. It kicked so much ass. From the moment Ziemba walked onstage at the top of the show to the moment she stood, downstage center, all alone, asserting her independence amid great fear and trepidation, the audience rooted for her. Well. This audience did.

Karen Ziemba’s cast mates were equally engaging for me. First of all, there was Daniel McDonald, one of the dreamiest leading men you could ever hope to witness and, sigh, what a voice! Oh I just loved him. I was crestfallen at his death. Then there was the great American actress Debra Monk and I just don’t know how a person could sit in a theater and not be drawn to her by the heartstrings (except, possibly, in THOU SHALT NOT, which I did not see, but which I hear left audiences stupefied). Debra Monk’s performance in Steel Pier remains one of my all time favourites but not because of the famous Ev’rybody’s Girl number.. no, no. It was the obligatory act two quiet ballad that got me. I have studied Kander and Ebb and it is part of their formula. CHICAGO – Mr Cellophane. WOMAN OF THE YEAR – Sometimes a Day Goes By. ZORBA – Woman. KISS OF THE SPIDERWOMAN – Mama, It’s Me. THE RINK – Marry Me. In STEEL PIER it is the lovely Somebody Older; it’s a song that moved me so that, years later, when I was 38 and dating a 24 year old, I even went into a studio and recorded it. It can’t come close to the original performance by the genius Miss Monk, but, still, it’s a part of me.

Then there was Kristin Chenoweth in a supporting role that told all of the people in the seats that this girl was destined for greatness. I’m so proud of myself when I think of the fact that I saw her in this show and, immediately, penned her a letter asking her to be in The Sweater Book. It sort of validates that I know what’s good and what goes and, dudes, from that first show, I knew she would rise to the top.

So what do we have here? A great score by multiple Tony award winners, a cast of beautiful actors and dancers (and, for the record, Gregory Harrison did a wonderful job playing a completely reprehensible character that warrants no comments in this story, though Mr Harrison’s performance does and here it is: great work being a slimeball!) and amazing choreography by a Broadway genius named Susan Stroman.

So WHAT went WRONG?!

I will tell you.

They didn’t trust their audience.

When we saw Steel Pier, at that Gypsy Run Through (and be warned, there is a spoiler coming up here), Act One was moving right along. Great overture. Curtain up. Handsome pilot onstage meets pretty marathoner. Marathon starts and neither have partners and they end up dancing together. Dance. Sing. They get to know each other. She’s married to the marathon promoter who is a schemer who lies to his wife (he freakin’ sold their house to pay for the marathon and has never told her). She and the pilot are, clearly, developing a real affection for one another and as the desperation of the marathon moves to the end of the Act something amazing happened (and this is one of those things that you never forget – at least me). At the end of Act One there is a number called The Sprints in which the marathoners are leashed together in pairs and have to run a race and whoever falls is out. At one moment, Karen Ziemba falls, taking down her partner, Daniel McDonald. They will be out. But then… in one of the most baffling moments I have ever, ever, ever seen onstage, the music sounds like a record album being played backwards and all the runners begin moving slowly in reverse. WHAT?! That was me, in my seat, saying WHAT is THAT?! I was baffled and confused. Then, after a few seconds of slow-me, they all began running at top speed in the right direction as the curtain fell.

I went out to the street during the intermission, eyes wide, asking Pat what he got out of that and dying to get back to my seat so I could watch Act Two and get my head around it.

THAT is THEATER.

Every play in the world should have that as their goal: send your audience out to intermission, desperate to get back to the action.

In Act Two there was an AIRPLANE on STAGE and a Busby Berkley number with girls tap dancing on the wings. What’s not to love? Then comes Debra Monk trying to convince the ( oh please forgive my profanity ) FUCKING GORGEOUS Jim Newman to do the older-younger thing that I know oh-so-well, Kristin Chenoweth doing Jeanette McDonald, Karen Ziemba doing Donna McKechnie and the earth shattering realization that THE PILOT IS DEAD.

Wait.

What?

He’s dead? He’s, what, a ghost? An angel? What? He died in a plane crash and he has been given three weeks to come back to earth just to dance with Karen Ziemba and, in the process, change her life. And that’s what he does because, at the end of the play she leaves her no good husband and goes out on her own to have her own life. The last thing that happens is the pilot tells her “Go on. Fly.” Well, kids. We all need someone to tell us to fly. I’ve needed it. Right now my husband needs it. This girl in this play needed someone to tell her to “Go on. Fly.”

And she does.

That kind of effing optimism is what I have built my life on. It’s what Kander and Ebb built their musicals on. It is what we all need – to be reminded that we can fly; we have the power inside of us to do it. We just forget now and then and need a reminder. And when I listen to the cast album, (and I am loathe to admit this) I still cry at this point.

STEEL PIER was a magical experience for me – it still is. When the reviews came out, I didn’t get it. They were almost universally bad to lukewarm. The show was nominated for some Tony awards but failed to catch the brass ring. When the closing notice went up, Pat and I knew we had to see the show a second time, for he loved it as much as I did.

That is when I found out why the show tanked.

They changed the script. They didn’t trust the audience to be smart enough to get it. When I went out for intermission, confused, it was that confusion that brought me back to my seat. When Rita Racine found out he was dead, I found out he was dead. The book kept me in the dark until that moment and I gasped. I was with them the entire time. Upon our return visit, the overture played, the curtain came up and the pilot was lying on the stage. He stood up, looked heavenward and said “I understand. I’ve got three weeks. Three weeks!” and I turned to Pat, both our eyes THIS WIDE and we mouthed the words “What the FUCK?!” Throughout Act One the audience was given at least two, maybe even three tips to the fact that he was dead and he had some kind of fucking heavenly magic that heals injured pigeons and makes time roll backwards and other nonsensical garbage. Oh, it made me so mad! No wonder audiences didn’t like it. I am, and have been (since I was old enough and smart enough to think about this) always been a fan of trusting your audience. Whether you are writing a book, telling a story, making a movie or a play or any other form of storytelling, you MUST trust your audience. Make demands on them. MAKE them KEEP UP with you. No wonder so many people are so stupid – the dumbing down of society has reached a fever pitch because of the lack of intellectual challenge being presented to the public. I know that, in the grand scheme of things, a Broadway musical doesn’t greatly affect the intelligence level of the American public – but it’s a part of the whole big puzzle.

There are a few trivial things in my life about which I am certain, in my heart:

--When a female movie star who is married to a male movie star wins an Oscar and he doesn’t have one, the marriage is doomed.
--If the movie Dolores Claiborne had been released at a different time of year, there would have been Oscar nominations for all three of the stars
--If the creators of Steel Pier had trusted their audience and demanded that they keep up with the story, the show would have been a hit.

It isn’t fair for me to make this criticism, though. After all, I have never written, directed or produced a Broadway play. It must be tough work and very nerve wracking. However, as an audience member, I am a bit of an expert. So I stand by my opinion and my conviction.

Still.

I’m so very happy that I saw that Gypsy Run Through. It’s what puts Steel Pier on my list of favourites.



A place it will always be.