Ogre and Ogre Again
by Evan Shultz
As if three movies weren’t already one too many. As if Broadway, having just seen Wicked, The Producers, Spamalot, Urinetown, and a dozen other shows dating back to Avenue Q, needed another antiestablishment parody of itself. As if anyone, anywhere, needed yet another rehash of a property everyone knows backwards and forwards instead of, say, something original. Audiences had plenty of reason to cringe at hearing the phrase Shrek the Musical.
So when a few hundred patrons and press members crowded into Seattle’s 5th Avenue Theatre on September 10th, 2008 to see the opening performance of that very show, they most probably expected something cringe-worthy. Was there a single fairy-tale joke we hadn’t heard yet? Weren’t we about to see Shrek 4: The first movie, only now with dancing? Wasn’t this just one more attempt by the entertainment industry to scrape the last quarter-barrelful out of a dry well?
Boy, were we surprised.
One would think that after about seven hours of fairy-tale parody spread over three movies, the Shrek universe would have run out of jokes — yet this stage play might be funnier than any of the films.
A whole new medium offered fresh targets for satire, so instead of mocking moments from The Matrix, E.T., or Lord of the Rings, the makers of Shrek the Musical take direct aim at classic Broadway from 42nd Street all the way up to The Lion King, while poking fun at some of musical theater’s oddest conceits. Of course, the green ogre’s stage debut has all the bathroom humor audiences have come to expect (Question: How do you make a Hollywood screenplay kid-friendly? Answer: Take out fifteen minutes of character development to make room for flatulence), but not as much as there might have been, and not nearly enough to ruin the show.
DreamWorks Theatricals might have stopped there and sold audiences a box of new jokes wrapped in the same old story — but that would have been cynical even for showbiz. Yes, the stage play follows the same story (at least in outline form), but Shrek the Musical has more time to spend exploring the characters and uses that time well. Playwright David Lindsay-Abaire mined the characters’ childhoods for new veins of material, creating the play’s three most memorable songs: Fiona slowly goes neurotic pacing her tower for twenty years. Shrek explains to Donkey, in a heartbreaking moment, why he’ll never be a hero . . . even Lord Farquaad gets in on the act, explaining why he hates magical freaks so much. If you liked the characters in the movie, here’s your chance to love them.
Of course, the best-written characters in the world will stink like death if the actors can’t bring them to life. Fortunately, though you might smell onions, swamps, and ogres in this production, you won’t smell any walking corpses.
Apparently, DreamWorks has figured out how to genetically synthesize an actual ogre based on the blueprints from its first movie and cast him in the play under the stage name Brian d’Arcy James. He sounds like Shrek, he moves like Shrek, he acts like Shrek, and (thanks to phenomenal makeup) he even looks like Shrek. It’s like he stepped straight out of the movie, only better: James brings a hint of strength and pathos to the role that the computer generated version lacked.
Sutton Foster, as Fiona, takes the role originated by Cameron Diaz and plays her more like Debra Messing. In Foster’s hands, Fiona becomes vulnerable, cute, messed-up, and infinitely more sympathetic and likable than her big-screen counterpart. While her opening night performance seemed unpolished in places, once she found her groove she carried the role enchantingly.
Still, none of the other performers can hold a flaming torch to Christopher Sieber’s Lord Farquaad. Sieber has mastered the ham royale role (the same archetype he played in Into the Woods and Spamalot) so completely that the other leads come off as amateurs when forced to share a stage with him. Sieber can reduce the back row of the balcony to belly laughs with nothing more than the expression on his face. To make matters funnier, he has one of the best costumes in the production (which requires him to play the role on his knees) and most of the best props to play with. His scenes alone are worth the price of admission.
As for the supporting cast, including Kecia Lewis-Evans (Dragon), John Tartaglia (Pinocchio), and the host of thespians who compose Lord Farquaad’s cronies and the freaks exiled to Shrek’s swamp, every single part in this play has the makings of a show-stealing, breakout performance — and the cast knows it. Not a single line thrown away, not a single step missed, they made every last word and movement on that stage worth watching. Casts like this make one realize why some awards have a category for Best Ensemble.
With so many winners, someone had to wind up with the short straw, and in this production the big loser was Chester Gregory, who played Donkey. If there were no movie to compare it to, Gregory’s performance would have been delightful . . . but Gregory can’t compete with Eddie Murphy. Poor guy. No one can do Eddie Murphy — most of the time Eddie Murphy can’t do Eddie Murphy (see one of his recent movies for proof). Thank goodness Gregory doesn’t even try to imitate his superstar counterpart. Instead, he makes the role of Donkey his own, bringing out the lovably annoying friendliness that makes Donkey, well, Donkey. Those expecting someone who can sing the songs, make them laugh, and carry the role won’t be disappointed — but those expecting Murphy’s comic brilliance should stop by the video store on their way home instead.
(Note: As of Shrek the Musical’s move to Broadway in December, Donkey is now being played by Daniel Breaker.)
Speaking of singing, Shrek the Musical provides a good example of a problem that plagues many recent musicals: brilliant lyrics set to enjoyable music, with zero chance anyone will remember them on the way home from the theater. Fun songs abound in Duloc county, but nothing catchy. Even worse, Shrek the Musical eschews an overture, which might have helped get audience members in the right mood for the music (or at least reinforce it through repetition). Don’t expect to hum the Shrek score at work the next day like you did after seeing Wicked.
One final remark: Anyone who hasn’t seen a professional stage production in the last few years should prepare to be amazed. Live special effects have advanced by leaps and bounds in the past decade, and Shrek the Musical achieves technical excellence even by the new, higher standards. Without spoiling any surprises, let’s just say that by the end of the first act no one in the audience missed computer animation.
With so many popular movies migrating from the silver screen to the Great White Way, one might easily jump to the cynical conclusion that studios are just milking their cash cows. Productions like Shrek the Musical suggest that this isn’t always so: Some studios adapt their properties because the stage gives them even more room to do what the movie did right the first time. One can only hope that other stage adaptations take Shrek the Musical’s lesson to heart: Be like the movie, only more so.
Images care of DreamWorks Theatricals
