I loved Molina and Graff in FiDDLER, long with Laura Michele Kelly, Lea Michelle from GLEE and Robert Petkoff. John Cairani was all over the place physically. If you had never seen the show before and came to it with fresh eyes, you had a better chance of enjoying it.
That revival was misquided from the get go. As previously stated, the set looked like a Chechov play--the Cherry Orchard to be exact. Placing the orchestra onstage was a mistake; it made you always realize you were watching a play at all times. Humor was missing. Yente wasn't funny but forced. Golde didn't seem Jewish. It lost its heart.
The original staging by Jerome Robbins is classic. I am all for reinvention when it works (for example the brilliant revival of Pippin) but there was no need to put the orchestra on stage and make the show look like the cherry orchard. In fact, this is a case (like Annie) that didn't need reinvention.
It's really hard to ruin Fiddler on the Roof. It really hard to ruin Annie. But both revivals were tarnished (if not ruined) by misquided directors. David Levaux and James Lapine. Not a fan of either director.
British directors have a bad habit of taking all the heart, soul, pacing, and humor out of muscial classics. This Fiddler had no "yiddishkeit". Alfred Molina was about as far from a Jewish father in early 1900's Russian shetl as you can get. No warmth or humor or charm. He and the director did not get it or have a clue. It was pretty, but wrong scenically. Nancy Opel as Yenta was evidently thrown into the role when Barbara Barrie was fired, but she didn't get one laugh. You need a Yid to do this Fid.
Goldenboy, despite the reconceived staging--they still had to use the Robbins choreography, right? Which always seemed like it might be a weird fit to me.
I saw the show twice with Molina and Graff and once with Harvey and Rosie. It was a far more satisfying production overall with Harvey and Rosie, and I have to agree with what someone said above about Rosie 'getting' Do You Love Me?. For Me Harvey and Rosie never tried to play against their larger than life personalities and even played into their sexualities, at least to me, in this song/scene.
Golde and Tevye were an arranged marriage. A little gay boy and a little lesbian girl get paired up by their parents and have built a family on the traditions of their people from their past, while both still playing the truth of who they were as individuals.
Molina and Graff sang the songs and spoke the lines but had little chemistry and the production dragged. John Cairani was great early on before he started getting the buzz and turned into a manic caricature of Motel. Still more exciting to watch than Graff and Molina, but it got to be a little too much.
My introduction to Fiddler was in 1990 at 11 on a school trip to see Topol on Broadway. Much of the show was lost on me then, but it remains one of my most favorite memories because it introduced me to Broadway, still have the $5 souvenir program from it somewhere.
Although I didn't see this revival, I saw the 2007 London revival, and thought it was the most beautiful production I'd ever seen. You were able to find the humanitity from the first few opening lines of piece. I dont think British director Lindsay Posner lost the heart at all.
"Ok ok ok ok ok ok ok. Have you guys heard about fidget spinners!?" ~Patti LuPone
I'm at a disadvantage here-- the original production was the first Broadway show I ever saw, in '67 with Harry Goz. From that pinnacle it's very hard for a modern chamber-scale reinterpretation to even approach the magic and wonder of the original.
That said, this production fell woefully short. I'd been a fan of David Leveaux's revival of NINE, but he seemed afraid of all the juice that makes FIDDLER so compelling. The skeletal roof and birch tree surround was really straight out of the Russian scenery 101 handbook. And Alfred Molina was hopelessly miscast as a poor Shtetl milkman.
The one stroke of genius I did appreciate was during the Dream sequence when that boring old deck began to tilt upward into a 45 degree slope for a true Chagall-inspired nightmare-scape. Sadly that brief spark of life couldn't ignite the rest of the evening. How I'd love to see a true recreation of the original production back on Broadway in my lifetime. (From my mouth to God's ears.)