Review: Bartlett Sher's FIDDLER ON THE ROOF Breaks With Tradition

With his Lincoln Center revivals of SOUTH PACIFIC and THE KING AND I, Bartlett Sher has earned a reputation for digging deep into the texts of classic musicals and exploring themes that, while addressed in their original productions, perhaps require more amplification to be absorbed by contemporary eyes and ears.

That reputation hasn't come without controversy, as he'll sometimes, with the permission of those who hold the deceased authors' performance rights, make adjustments to the scripted and composed material.

His new production of Fiddler on the Roof is framed by two quick moments that even those only casually familiar with the piece might recognize as a contemporary revision, but this time, as explained by at least one pre-opening print media article that has described them in detail, change comes with the approval of the 1964 musical's sole surviving author, lyricist Sheldon Harnick.

Before we hear the violin solo by composer Jerry Bock that has opened the drama based on the stories of Sholom Aleichem for over fifty years, the evening begins with a train whistle and a lone man standing at the depot of the little Russian village of Anatevka. That man, played by Danny Burstein, who will eventually evolve into the musical's leading man, Tevye, wears a modern red parka and carries a book that we can only assume is a published volume of the musical's text, as he reads aloud the prologue's famous lines written by the musical's bookwriter Joseph Stein, "A fiddler on the roof. Sounds crazy, no?"

It isn't long before he's removed the coat, adjusted his clothing, and becomes the familiar humble and devout dairy man who ekes out just enough of a living to support his wife and five daughters.

The musical then continues as magnificently as it always has, until the final scene, when an edict from the Czar has demanded that all Jews leave Anatevka, and the man in the red parka appears again. His book is now turned to the last pages. Perhaps the production we've just seen is his modern interpretation as he reads the libretto of an old Broadway blockbuster. In any case, he's ready to take his place among those refugees of over a hundred years ago, seeking new homes that will accept them.

It'll be left to individual viewers to judge whether or not such symbolism works, but thankfully the rest of the production is an exemplary revival, especially focused on the solidly acted and deeply thoughtful performances of Burstein and Jessica Hecht, who plays Teyve's wife of twenty-five years, Golde.

As always, the superb script's major theme is how an oppressed people will faithfully cling to religion and cultural traditions to bond them as a community and provide emotional strength. Teyve and Golde, it seems, have produced at least three children who develop radical ideas to challenge those traditions.

First it's the eldest, Tzeitel (Alexandra Silber) who pleads with her father not to force her to marry the wealthy butcher Lazar Wolf (Adam Dannheisser) and instead allow her to marry her friend since childhood, the poor tailor Motel (Adam Kantor). Next it's Hodel (Samantha Massell), who asks for her father's blessing, but not his permission, when she tells him she's accepted the proposal of the young activist Perchik (Ben Rappaport). Teyve learns to adjust to this new idea of young people choosing their own spouses, although the town's matchmaker, Yente (a dry-humored Alix Korey), is not amused.

The supreme test of Teyve's willingness to bend comes when his middle child, the avid reader Chava (Melanie Moore), announces that she will marry the intellectual Fyedka (Nick Rehberger), a man from outside their faith.

There is a great deal of humor in Fiddler on the Roof, but, as is typical for Sher, it's played down. Not that Burstein's darkly-tinged conversations with God aren't warmly funny, but this time around there's more grounded focus on his emotional conflict between doing what his faith commands and providing happiness for his beloved daughters. When he finally snaps, it's a devastatingly sad and horrific moment for all involved.

Hecht's Golde is simply a stunning revelation. In a role that's commonly played for laughs as a domineering wife and mother, Hecht appears somewhat cold and quietly efficient until the middle of the second act, when Tevye, prompted by these strange new ideas of his daughters, asks her in song, "Do you love me?"

Hecht's reaction is withdrawn and fearful, and as the lyric describes how the arranged couple first met on their wedding day, it brings out feelings of how, by contemporary standards, she has been raped by him since they were introduced. There are clues in her interactions with Tzeitel, Hodel and Chava that she perhaps feels a bit of resentment that they get to be intimate with men they love. Her mention that, "for twenty-five years my bed is his," reminds the audience that a previous scene revealed them sleeping in twin beds and that maybe she's fearful that Teyve wishes to resume a part of their relationship that might have ceased since the birth of their youngest.

While tinkering with the text was used to bring out one modern parallel, this incredibly effective second parallel was achieved with incisive acting.

If Michael Yeargan's set seems a bit sparse, it emphasizes the concept that we're watching what the contemporary man from the initial scene is reading. He's thinking more of the people than the places.

Likewise, Israeli choreographer Hofesh Shechter, making his musical theatre debut, doesn't stray far from traditional period folk dances, but they're done with exhilarating leaps and fluid extensions that make the movements appear more like vivid examples of a reader's imagination that exaggerates reality. (An informal survey of people who have seen different preview performances indicates that the show's iconic dance where men balance bottles on their head has been choreographed with a moment where one of them drops a bottle.)

Bock and Harnick's wonderful, character-driven score includes standards like "Matchmaker, Matchmaker," "If I Were A Rich Man," "To Life" and "Miracle of Miracles"; all sung and acted splendidly. Fiddler on the Roof is a great example of intelligent, literate musical theatre that invigorates the heart and entertains the spirit. But it has to be done right. Some details can be argued, but overall, Bartlett Sher has done it right.

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