From: eric@npri6.npri.com (Eric Williams)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.theatre,dc.general
Subject: ASSASSINS (Review)
Date: 30 Aug 92 15:25:18 GMT
Distribution: usa
Organization: NPRI, Alexandria VA

Caveats: I am not a professional critic nor a regular theatergoer. All
opinions (twisted or otherwise) are my own. SPOILERS the further 
you proceed.

Can a musical built on a theme of desperation and despair be successful? 
Having just seen one, I still can't say. ASSASSINS is successful in fits and 
starts, but it is far from unified glory. Now that the odor of gunpowder is 
clearing from my nostrils, I'll try to puzzle it out.

The production is currently playing at "Theater Two" at the Gunston Arts 
Center in Arlington, VA, and is presented by Signature Theater. (They won a 
Helen Hayes Award last year for SWEENEY TODD.) The space is a neatly remodeled 
middle school studio which holds about 120 people. (My estimate.) The stage is 
decorated as a turn-of-the-century art salon; on the rear wall, several large 
"portraits" are blank, and these serve as rear-projection screens for 
detailing mood and scene. The atmosphere is dark, stuffy and stiffly formal, 
and it reminded me somewhat of Ford's Theater. Additional sets are spare, with 
a few dollied platforms and hand-carried flats. I'd say the visual aspects of 
the production are quite effective, although more money spent on props might 
improve the authenticity and might better integrate the details (bottle 
labels, newspapers, gallery prizes, etc.)

Comparing book versus music is a no-brainer. The music is "typical" Sondheim, 
which is to say it's exceedingly witty, entertaining and well-constructed, 
with one clunker on the otherwise admirable list. Weidman's book is another 
matter.  Most of the problems arise from the narrative's structure and method 
of development. There seem to be numerous devices at work, sometimes competing 
more than cooperating. The first device is the assassin's limbo. Here the 
characters routinely take a break, converse and complain like gloomy refugees. 
There are two subplanes in this realm: the communal and the intimate. The 
communal scenes (shooting gallery, bar, assembly for "Another National 
Anthem") present the subjects as a group, sort of a Misfits' Union. 
Unfortunately, in the early scenes (gallery and bar), the characters are not 
yet fully recognized, and yet they interact as fully-formed individuals; this 
results in a certain awkwardness. However, in the case of "Another National 
Anthem," they are less a random collection and more a group, the chemistry 
gels, and the scene plays superbly.

Of the one-on-one scenes, the Moore-Fromme incidents are the funniest and most 
inspired. The Hinkley-Fromme duet is spookily touching (although the actors' 
voices were a little weak), and Booth tries to hold a private consultation 
with everyone at least once. On the whole, the intimate scenes work better 
than the congregational, since they provide tiny focal points on the 
characters. The chief exception is Byck, who rambles too much and is 
ultimately uninteresting.

The second device is the Balladeer. He shows up for *some* of the scenes (as 
far as I can tell, the more remote ones) and he's dispatched in "Another 
National Anthem" in a manner reminiscent of the Narrator in INTO THE WOODS. 
Michael Sharp has a full, forceful voice that overpowers anyone and anything 
else in the theater. (This is not a criticism; it befits the role, though I 
wish some of the other singers--notably Buzz Mauro as Booth--had vocal powers 
approaching his.) The Balladeer, being a spokesman and focus for the 
assassins, steps into direct competition with the Proprietor (first scene) and 
subsequently J. W. Booth. Curiously, he introduces Booth, "tells his story," 
then steps back when Booth takes charge as the organizing element. This annoys 
me. I can see reasons for centering on the Balladeer (or the Proprietor--what 
happened to him?), or Booth, but the show's ringmasters should not alternate.

The third device is the portrayal of the "real" events, the assassinations or 
chance meetings with historical figures. Most of these events are cast in a 
darkly humorous light. A local critic accused the show of inaccuracies; while 
I am not a presidential history buff and cannot comment on this, two jarring 
anachronisms did make me wonder about the text's authenticity. The first 
(somewhat subtle) error is when Moore accuses Fromme of being the type of 
youth that hangs around in shopping malls. Correct me please, but I do not 
believe mall culture was an issue in the 70s. The other faux pas is when Byck 
mentions ozone hole(s). The term (as well as recognition of the problem) did 
not exist while Nixon was in office. I can excuse some latitude in precision, 
but not when an oversight distracts viewers from the play, as it did for me 
and my companion. These are easy things to correct and should be obvious to 
the creators.

These primary devices go into orbit and take their turns in the
limelight. The difficulty isn't the inclusion of all three, but that
they seem stitched together, disjointed and unconnected. It's as if one
were watching several different drafts of the same material, where
scene three of script one followed scene two of script three. An
example of this effect is how Booth is portrayed as a very serious
character (he is about to die in a barn after shooting Lincoln), but in
other scenes turns up as a jovial, almost playful figure. I am certain
these conflicts could be leveled, but it would require some extensive
thought on how the drama is best served and which elements should
predominate.

Then there is the Oswald scene. I had listened to the recording of the New 
York cast long before seeing this work, and I had come to the conclusion that 
the Booth-Oswald chat would be the most unbearable part of the show. It was. 
For one thing, the company makes a very effective climax in the preceding 
scene--as I have said, the ensemble piece "Another National Anthem" works well, 
and it seems to be the natural place to sum up the play. However, there is 
another long scene that trails it, sort of an epilogue, where Booth cajoles 
Oswald into shooting JFK instead of himself. The idea here (and a rather alien 
one, since it is introduced and developed at the end, like an afterthought) is 
that the assassins together form a conspiracy (the *real* conspiracy, get it?) 
to perpetuate their deeds throughout history. This contradicts the 
lonely-desperate-deluded thread, and it isn't a convincing argument. This 
concludes in a reprise of "Everybody Has the Right" (Sondheim's weakest 
contribution, a parody of sun-shiny musical numbers with the obvious irony of 
look-who's-singing-it, but it's too close to its target to be a barb) and 
conformity to canonical musical form. The dawdling pace of the Booth-Oswald 
exchange exacerbates its irritating properties; a friend said the whole thing 
should be dropped, but I think it could be shortened and inserted earlier 
among the other biographies.

Final analysis? Well worth seeing! Despite my reservations, this is a show of 
considerable merit. It delivers content (and style), but no tapdances; it 
treats its audience like adults and does not hesitate to point its 
controversial gun in the ticketholder's face. Part morbid review, part history 
lesson, part evening of tuneful (yes!) musical theater, you are not likely to 
see it playing in a theater with a big marquee. All the better. In its cozy 
presidential salon, ASSASSINS delivers a blast at point-blank range.

-------- eric@npri.com ---------- or ---------- ...uunet!uupsi!npri6!eric -----
              "After all he was a critic, and silence became him."              
Eric C. Williams/ NPRI/ Alexandria, VA/ USA/ (703) 683-9090/ Usual disclaimers.