Neither Musical Theater nor Opera, It's not What I Wanna See

"See What I Wanna See"

 

Words and music by Michael John LaChiusa; directed by Stephen Terrell; musical direction by Jonathan Goldberg; fight direction by Meron Langsner; scenic design by Brynna C. Bloomfield; costume design by Rafael Jaen; lighting design by Karen Perlow

 

Cast:

 

Kesa, The Wife, An Actress Aimee Doherty

Morito, The Husband, A CPA Andrew Giordano

The Janitor, A Priest Brendan McNab

The Thief, A Reporter Andrew Schufman

The Medium, Aunt Monica June Baboian

 

Performances: Now through February 3 at the Lyric Stage, Boston

Box Office: 617-585-5678 or www.lyricstage.com

 

In the talkback session following the press performance of Michael John LaChiusa's highly acclaimed Off-Broadway musical "See What I Wanna See" now making its New England premiere at the Lyric Stage in Boston, Massachusetts, actor Andrew Giordano responded to a question about the difficulty of the score by saying, "This makes Sondheim sound like Rodgers and Hammerstein." And therein lies the problem.

 

Musical theater shouldn't be this hard on the actors or the audience.

 

In "See What I Wanna See," a musical adaptation of three short stories written by 19^th century Japanese author Ryunosuke Akutagawa, librettist/lyricist/composer Michael John LaChiusa has tried to meld in two acts titled "R Shomon" and "Gloryday" the headiness of Akira Kurosawa's 1950 art film "Roshomon" (also based on one of Akutagawa's short stories) with the spiritual angst of post-9/11 New York City. The result is a jarring mismatch of styles and sensibilities, despite a common theme: different people can perceive and experience the same situation very differently, based on what they want and need to see.

 

The concept is intriguing and ripe with possibilities, but the execution is heavy handed with an emphasis on point making. Instead of soaring, LaChiusa's songs pound out narrative that makes otherwise evocative music feel off putting. Orchestrated and played beautifully under the baton of music director Jonathan Goldberg, the score would be much better suited as an instrumental movie soundtrack. The jazzy, steamy sounds of the 1950s-set "R Shomon" are perfect for film noir, and the pulsating rock rhythms of "Gloryday" would ably suit any counter culture examination of modern urban desperation. As songs meant to be sung, however, the music takes a muted back seat to LaChiusa's labored rhymes and forced prose. The author might be advised in future endeavors to collaborate with lyricists who have a better ear for musical poetry and librettists who can tell a story without using a two by four.

 

In "R Shomon," which balances its gritty storyline with sensual humor, five different people tell an unseen police interrogator what they know about a rape and murder in Central Park. The Janitor, a reluctant witness, limits his testimony in a song called "Best not to Get Involved" while the Thief who lured the Husband and Wife into the park proudly cops to the killing in "Murder." The Wife gives her version in "Louie," painting herself and her husband as inconsolably distraught after her Husband witnesses her rape by the Thief. Then the Husband (now dead) tells his vastly different version of the night's events through a psychic medium in "Simple as This." In two quartets, "You'll Go Away with Me" and "No More," all four stories come together to lend new meaning to the Wife's earlier sultry title song, "See What I Wanna See."

 

"Gloryday" is far less subtle or nuanced than "R Shomon." A Priest is experiencing a crisis of faith, wondering how God could have allowed the calamity of 9/11 to occur ("Confession/Last Year"), so he resorts to taking out his anger by perpetrating a hoax on the people of the city. He posts a sign ("First Message") claiming that Christ will come again on a specific day and time in Central Park. Then he watches as a homeless CPA, a drugged out Actress, a cynical Reporter, and even his atheist Aunt Monica cling to the belief that the prophecy might be true. What he doesn't bargain on is his own reaction to the promised miracle. What each person does or doesn't see at the designated moment begs the question: What do they want to see and why?

 

LaChiusa ties together the two main stories of "See What I Wanna See" with two brief prologues titled "Kesa and Morito." In these scenes, two lovers in medieval Japan act out different versions of Morito's murder, the climactic stabbing in each mirroring the one in "R Shomon." First Kesa, then Morito, sing the same song. Their actions while singing, however, reveal very different intentions.

 

The cast for "See What I Wanna See" is quite competent and deserves a great deal of credit for mastering LaChiusa's difficult score. Aimee Doherty is the emotional center for "R Shomon" and delivers a pleasant, if not overwhelmingly powerful, rendition of the title song. Her Act II Actress is less grounded, but the fault lies more in the clichéd writing of the character than in her performance. Brendan McNab as the Priest in Act II is properly impassioned, but his delivery is monochromatic. He needs to balance his anger and determination with more vulnerability and humor. His Janitor in Act I is a nicely nuanced working Joe who seems to know more than he is telling to the police.

 

Andrew Giordano has the strongest voice in the cast, handling the jazzy riffs in "R Shomon" as easily as the power anthems in "Gloryday." He is also a fine actor, capturing the proud swagger for Morito, the come-to-Jesus philosophizing of the burned out CPA, and especially the defeated machismo and painful disillusionment of the murdered Husband. As the Thief, Andrew Schufman is appropriately seductive and sinister, but his voice is better suited to the softer tenor requirements of his second act Reporter's "Curiosity/Prayer" than to his first act's lushly jazz-styled "She Looked at Me" and "Big Money." June Baboian brings an unexpected depth and warmth to her Medium in "R Shomon," but her lasagna-serving Aunt Monica in "Gloryday" is hampered by stereotypical writing and a deus ex machina turnaround for her character.

 

Stephen Terrell's direction is serviceable but uninspired. Brynna C. Bloomfield's angularly columned backdrop and multi-leveled set evoke changing cultural landscapes and time periods nicely, and she gets an able assist from Karen Perlow's smart mood and area lighting. The real standout of this production, however, is Jonathan Goldberg's direction of LaChiusa's complex score. Time and again I found myself wanting to silence the intrusive lyrics so that I could be swept away by the rich blend of haunting keyboards, reeds, and infectious percussion.

 

The Lyric Stage can certainly be credited for its ambition in staging such challenging work. With such difficult material, however, exceptional direction and superlative singers are needed to lift it beyond its own sense of self importance. Unfortunately, neither are present here. I didn't see what I wanted to see.

 

PHOTOS:

 

1. Aimee Doherty, Andrew Schufman, and Andrew Giordano

2. Aimee Doherty and Andrew Giordano

3. Brendan McNab and June Baboian

 

Photos courtesy of Lyric Stage