St. Tropez Revisited

Even at its 1983 premiere, La Cage aux Folles was a resolutely old-fashioned musical. Harvey Fierstein's book and Arthur Laurents' staging were very much in the traditional mode. And Jerry Herman's score successfully brought back the sort of take-home tunes that many had thought to be out of style.

But if it was hardly innovative in its composition, La Cage contained a notable political message. After all, the plot revolved around the twenty-year marriage of two middle-aged men, one of whom sings a love song to the other. Still, if the subject matter was daring for a mainstream musical, the treatment stressed tolerance and family values, allowing the show the broadest possible appeal.

You probably recall the gist of the story, either from the original Broadway production of the musical, the popular French film, or the Americanized movie version, The Birdcage. Georges runs the eponymous St. Tropez nightspot, at which his lover, Albin, is transformed into the star attraction, transvestite entertainer Zaza. Twenty years back, Georges had a brief dalliance with a woman, and it produced a son. That son becomes engaged to the daughter of a local politician who heads the tradition-family-morality party and has vowed to shut down joints like La Cage. The union of Georges and Albin is threatened when the extravagantly effiminate Albin is asked to disappear when the prospective in-laws come to visit.

The original La Cage was a great show rather than a great musical. There were weaknesses in Fierstein's book, particularly in the dialogue for Les Cagelles, the drag performers who support Albin at La Cage. The score has at least one "Masculinity" disappointing number. But Laurents' production was a series of delights, thanks to a perfect pair of leads; David Mitchell's dreamy evocation of the French Riviera setting; Scott Salmon's inventive choreography for a series of glitzy production numbers; and Theoni V. Aldredge's witty costumes for a stageful of drag queens, a couple of whom were actually women.

Some may feel that the new production at the Marquis Theatre comes with a built-in problem: At a time when gay characters are routinely depicted on stage, screen, and television Will & Grace, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, the show's once-daring depiction of a same-sex marriage may come across as quaint. Then again, with gay marriage such a hot-button issue, La Cage couldn't be more timely.

As it turns out, the new Cage feels closer in spirit to the farcical film versions of the property than to the more emotional Broadway musical original. As in a couple of earlier revivals, director Jerry Zaks has emphasized hard-edged comedy over warmth. The book scenes are often more cartoonish than charming, and, while the laughs are in place, it's harder to fall in love with Georges and Albin.

Without erasing memories of originals George Hearn and Gene Barry, both of the revival's leading men do nicely, even if they've been directed to give rather uninflected performances. Recycling a bit of his previous transvestite role, The Producers' Roger De Bris, while also channeling a good deal of Nathan Lane's comic delivery, Gary Beach evinces all of the necessary flamboyance and vulnerability for Albin. If he lacks something in star charisma, he's a hard-working pro, and he rises to an intense "I Am What I Am" to close the first half.

In the heretofore less flashy role of Georges, Daniel Davis is fully Beach's equal, and if his line readings can be overemphatic, he displays fine comic timing, and does well by "Look Over There" and "Song on the Sand." Both men possess more than serviceable singing voices.

Gavin Creel is luxury casting for son Jean-Michel, and he's a pleasure to hear in "With Anne on My Arm" and "Look Over There." The role of Jacob, the butler who wants to be a maid and a star at La Cage, has been slightly built up for the revival, and Michael Benjamin Washington is a scene-stealer. Michael Mulheren lacks the priggishness for the right-wing politico, while there are helpful contributions from Angela Gaynor as the fiancée, Linda Balgord as her mother, and a relatively subdued Ruth Williamson as restaurateur Jacqueline.

Les Cagelles are all male this time around, and even more athletic, capable of very high kicks, reckless tumbling, dangerous-looking flying splits, and other assorted calisthenics. Putting to good use a ramp surrounding the orchestra pit, Jerry Mitchell's choreography for them reaches its peak in the all-stops-out title-number can-can, and Mitchell has also provided a pleasing soft-shoe for the leading men in "With You on My Arm."

If it's considerably less lavish than the original, this is a handsome production. Scott Pask has designed an attractive drop that depicts St. Tropez by day and night, while his nightclub is slightly darker and more dangerous-looking than the original's. La Cage has always been a field day for a costume designer, and William Ivey Long is just the man to provide all the necessary sequins and boas.

Herman's toe-tapping score holds up admirably. Fierstein, whose voice is heard making the pre-show loudspeaker announcement about cell phones and cameras, has revised his libretto, and the result is a faster, leaner La Cage. There's a marked improvement in the Cagelles' material, some of which has been eliminated altogether, and cutting the dance section of "Masculinity" is also advantageous.

"With Anne on My Arm" features a new counterpoint melody for Georges to accompany Jean-Michel, who dances with Jacob rather than the now-absent Anne. There are a few new lyrics in the title song and elsewhere. And there are entirely new dance arrangements by David Krane.

Also unlike the original, the final curtain falls on Beach and Davis locked in a kiss. This is welcome, but hardly necessary; even without it, the original La Cage managed to convey the love of its two leading characters. La Cage is likely to remain what it always was, a surefire crowd-pleaser. But this new production has a hard time locating the heart of the piece, and fails to scale the heights of the original.