First off, the byline
By Chris Jones for the Chicago Tribune
Published October 30, 2006, 1:10 AM CST
'The Pirate Queen," the earnest and epic but ill-ruddered and oft-cartoonish voyage from the creators of "Les Miserables" and the producers of "Riverdance," is far from shipshape. How long its costly Irish sail will last in New York will depend upon the willingness of its creators to face potentially painful truths—beginning with a lack of clear commitment to the kind of legitimate, sophisticated, and, above all, complex musical that has marked Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schonberg's glorious careers to date.
These producers currently have a pre-Broadway show, which opened Sunday night after several weeks of previews, too dull and dour for the "Riverdance" or the family crowd, yet too full of predictable archetypes to function as the kind of weighty but broadly accessible musical of which this Broadway season is in dire need. They have a show about a potentially fascinating heroine, the titular 16th Century Irish freedom fighter Grace O'Malley, thorn in the side of Elizabeth I and adventurer of proto-feminist flamboyance and nationalist achievement, yet they garner perilously little emotional involvement from a willing Chicago audience hoping in vain to care as they once did for the Fantine of "Les Mis" or the Kim of "Miss Saigon."
(...cut...)
That may sound like more than enough to sink this ship. Perhaps. But these are brilliant, world-class artists—if they can stare down their own defenses—and they have things on their side. Most notable is Stephanie J. Block's central performance—a gutsy, powerful, honest piece of acting that will land her a Tony nomination, regardless of what happens to the show. And there are hints of a worthy score—the poignant "I'll Be There," the exciting "A Day Beyond Belclare," and, especially, "She, Who Has All," have the soaring melodies we associate with Schonberg.
(...cut...)
Time after time, though, you can see Block fighting the show's broad melodramatic strokes. We get precious little backstory on Grace—one of the show's serious problems—and we see far too little of her spirited youth. Her men—and this show is way too much about her men—are boiled down into good lover Tiernan (played by the boyish Hadley Fraser) and bad husband Donal (Marcus Chait, whom we know as villain the moment we see his hair). Much of the first act is dominated by Grace's father, Dubhdara (Jeff McCarthy) a conventionally drawn (if well-sung) type whom we know is going to croak somewhere around intermission and who gets too much in the way of his daughter.
Halfway through Act One, we get Grace's obliged marriage to Donal, whom we already despise (we first meet him in a tavern number that recalls the Gaston number from "Beauty and the Beast.")
(...cut...)
Which brings us to Queen Elizabeth—the most heinous aspect of "The Pirate Queen." Instead of providing us with insight into a famously quirky monarch, the show turns Linda Balgord into an Elizabethan fashion model, at times resembling a gilded but constricted butterfly and at others Beatrice Straight in "Poltergeist." She's also stuck with a harpsichord perennially bleating in the background, lest we forget this is a court.
(...cut...)
In its last half-hour—the best half-hour—the two women finally converse and "The Pirate Queen" belatedly takes shape. Despite her constrictions, the brilliant Balgord's rich emotional life bursts out of her costumes (if only she had more to say and sing! If only it weren't all so high!). The women start to sing of torn loyalties, women's power, life's compromises, the pain that flows from nationalist aggression. Even then, the show runs away from them, rendering their pivotal negotiation scene as a dumb show behind a screen. Such a shame. That's the conversation—the compromise that maybe saved lives and maybe caused generations of bloodshed—we came to weep over.
Tribune says Pirate Queen "Off Course"
http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/reviews/critics/chi-g202evc59.15oct29,1,7318347.story
Some quotes...
First off, the byline
By Chris Jones for the Chicago Tribune
Published October 30, 2006, 1:10 AM CST
'The Pirate Queen," the earnest and epic but ill-ruddered and oft-cartoonish voyage from the creators of "Les Miserables" and the producers of "Riverdance," is far from shipshape. How long its costly Irish sail will last in New York will depend upon the willingness of its creators to face potentially painful truths—beginning with a lack of clear commitment to the kind of legitimate, sophisticated, and, above all, complex musical that has marked Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schonberg's glorious careers to date.
These producers currently have a pre-Broadway show, which opened Sunday night after several weeks of previews, too dull and dour for the "Riverdance" or the family crowd, yet too full of predictable archetypes to function as the kind of weighty but broadly accessible musical of which this Broadway season is in dire need. They have a show about a potentially fascinating heroine, the titular 16th Century Irish freedom fighter Grace O'Malley, thorn in the side of Elizabeth I and adventurer of proto-feminist flamboyance and nationalist achievement, yet they garner perilously little emotional involvement from a willing Chicago audience hoping in vain to care as they once did for the Fantine of "Les Mis" or the Kim of "Miss Saigon."
(...cut...)
That may sound like more than enough to sink this ship. Perhaps. But these are brilliant, world-class artists—if they can stare down their own defenses—and they have things on their side. Most notable is Stephanie J. Block's central performance—a gutsy, powerful, honest piece of acting that will land her a Tony nomination, regardless of what happens to the show. And there are hints of a worthy score—the poignant "I'll Be There," the exciting "A Day Beyond Belclare," and, especially, "She, Who Has All," have the soaring melodies we associate with Schonberg.
(...cut...)
Time after time, though, you can see Block fighting the show's broad melodramatic strokes. We get precious little backstory on Grace—one of the show's serious problems—and we see far too little of her spirited youth. Her men—and this show is way too much about her men—are boiled down into good lover Tiernan (played by the boyish Hadley Fraser) and bad husband Donal (Marcus Chait, whom we know as villain the moment we see his hair). Much of the first act is dominated by Grace's father, Dubhdara (Jeff McCarthy) a conventionally drawn (if well-sung) type whom we know is going to croak somewhere around intermission and who gets too much in the way of his daughter.
Halfway through Act One, we get Grace's obliged marriage to Donal, whom we already despise (we first meet him in a tavern number that recalls the Gaston number from "Beauty and the Beast.")
(...cut...)
Which brings us to Queen Elizabeth—the most heinous aspect of "The Pirate Queen." Instead of providing us with insight into a famously quirky monarch, the show turns Linda Balgord into an Elizabethan fashion model, at times resembling a gilded but constricted butterfly and at others Beatrice Straight in "Poltergeist." She's also stuck with a harpsichord perennially bleating in the background, lest we forget this is a court.
(...cut...)
In its last half-hour—the best half-hour—the two women finally converse and "The Pirate Queen" belatedly takes shape. Despite her constrictions, the brilliant Balgord's rich emotional life bursts out of her costumes (if only she had more to say and sing! If only it weren't all so high!). The women start to sing of torn loyalties, women's power, life's compromises, the pain that flows from nationalist aggression. Even then, the show runs away from them, rendering their pivotal negotiation scene as a dumb show behind a screen. Such a shame. That's the conversation—the compromise that maybe saved lives and maybe caused generations of bloodshed—we came to weep over.