Patti, Glenn & Sunset: Analyzing Two Very Different Normas

No words can tell the stories their eyes tell...

When discussing the various actresses who have played Norma Desmond over the years in Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Sunset Boulevard", author Sam Staggs, in his book "Close-Up on Sunset Boulevard" had this to say:


 

So many contenders, and the search goes on for the one who gave the great, the definitive performance. It's a question opera fanatics used to ask. They argued, yelled, debated and fought over it: You're dirt if you think Tebaldi's a better Violetta/Mimi/Butterfly than Callas! Dame Joan? Gimme a break. Monserrat can sing it but she can't act...Jessye has the most fabulous instrument...You should have heard Zinka Milanow, now there was a great...Bubbles...Leontyne...Schwartzkopf. Where are they now, the voices and the fans, the claques, the passion, the factions, the opinions, and the worship?

 

 

It's easy enough to answer that last question. Today, the voices, fans, claques, passion, factions, opinions and worship (not to mention plenty of drudging) are found on youtube comment pages, Broadway World forums, Amazon reviews, Facebook groups, IMDb boards, and too many other online communities to name. The subject is no longer opera per se, but musical theatre as a whole. Thanks to "High School Musical" and "Glee", not to mention megamusicals aimed at tweens like "Wicked" and "Hairspray", more people than ever are becoming musical theatre "experts". They argue, yell, debate and fight every single day. Once in a while an insightful and/or respectful comment is made, but more often than not it's vitriol aimed at another for having the audacity not to share the same opinions that they do. I myself have been guilty of this behavior in the past but am trying to veer towards more respectful, objective evaluation nowadays. Personally, it sickens me to see juvenile banter that reveals no insight and accomplishes nothing. At the end of the day, you will always feel you were right and nothing will change your mind. End of story.

 

Negatively comparing actors who have played the same role is a particular pet peeve of mine. It's an inevitable hazard with play/musical revivals and replacement casts. No one actor can stay with a role forever, and no part should ever die with an actor, so eventually somebody else will come in. Especially if the original actor was quite beloved in the part, there will naturally be much scrutiny to see how the replacement holds up. Many people will refuse to accept a new interpretation of the role and dismiss the new performer outright, while others may appreciate the new actor's take on the character moreso than that of the original actor and as a result find a whole new appreciation for the piece, and so on and so forth. In a perfect world, each performance would be compared, contrasted and ultimately appreciated for what it is, but sadly, we do not live in that world as of yet. 

 

A lot of the venom spewed on these online communities tends to result from differing opinions on these multiple interpretations. Frances Rufelle's Eponine compared to Lea Salonga's Eponine is a common one, not to mention all the actresses who've played Fantine over the years coming under scrutiny ("LuPone is definitive, Graff's a pale imitation/Byrne's emotion is unparalleled/Henshall's voice is too tight", for example). And not just musicals that have made it in America, either. Ones only popular in Europe suffer the same fate, with Pia Douwes and Maya Hakvoort often being compared for their performance of the titular character in "Elisabeth". Usually these comparisons involve the women of musical theatre, in part due to the broader selection of big roles for women as opposed to men, but occasionally the various Phantoms and Sweeney Todds and Marius Pontmercys pop in from time to time.

 

But there's no doubt that some of the biggest bones of contention one will encounter are the Norma Desmond debates, specifically Patti LuPone vs. Glenn Close. Despite the many actresses who have played the role over the years, most critiques seem to zero in on these two for several reasons. Firstly, they were the two original Normas, and the only two to have their (nearly) complete performances preserved on record, as opposed to the highlights albums and singles featuring subsequent Normas. Secondly, and most crucially, due to the controversy surrounding their casting. For those not familiar with the scandal, here's a brief summary:

Patti LuPone opened the show in London in July of 1993, with a signed contract stating she'd take the show to New York the following year. However, before the Broadway premiere, the show would open in Los Angeles with a completely different cast, including Glenn Close as Norma. Patti's reviews in England were mostly positive, but most American critics who saw the show were less impressed. When Glenn Close received rave reviews, rumors began to swirl that the financial backers would want to go with Close instead of LuPone in New York. Lloyd Webber and his company, Really Useful Group, denied this staunchly, yet still the rumors continued to spread, making LuPone understandably upset. RUG continued to say Patti would do New York, until February of 1994, when Lloyd Webber and RUG finally decided to cancel LuPone's contract and bring Close to Broadway instead. LuPone was naturally furious, hurt and humiliated, and hasn't been on speaking terms with Lloyd Webber since. Despite a heafty payout for breaking her contract, LuPone would never forgive anyone involved in the incident and continues to harbor ill feelings to this day. As for Glenn Close, she was met with thunderous acclaim in New York and even picked up a Tony Award for Best Actress (although with only 2 nominees in the category that year, it would have been in the bag for either Close or LuPone).

This naturally has created very mixed feelings amonst fans of the show. Those on LuPone's side not only admire her performance but also have a great deal of sympathy, arguing that Close was a usurper who stole the role from LuPone. Then there are those on Close's side who felt she was better cast and that Lloyd Webber made the right decision to bring her to New York, and that showbusiness is rough and Patti needs to get over it. Is one camp right and the other wrong?

Any answer to that, of course, will be subjective. There is no right or wrong answer here. There are only facts: facts about their individual performances and of the creative decisions that lead to the debacle. It is certainly true that Patti LuPone did NOT deserve the treatment she was given, and she was hurt solely because of bad business decisions and cowardice on behalf of the creative team. In hindsight, it seems foolish of Lloyd Webber to contract her for New York knowing that there'd be another Norma in Los Angeles before then. The smart decision would have been to hold off casting for New York until both productions and their stars were established. Yes, somebody would still lose out, but at least there wouldn't have been any broken promises.

Despite her impressive acting credentials, LuPone's fame is largely due to her singing voice, as those are the recordings that reach the public at large. Plus, her voice is legendary, and for good reason. She has a delivery style and timbre all her own; there's never mistaking her for someone else. Unlike many of the American Idol-esque clones that permeate musical theatre nowadays, LuPone is a unique standout, never one to get lost in a flock of identical sheep. Her Evita is legendary, her Fantine bar-raising, her Mrs. Lovett revelatory and her Madame Rose a penultimate triumph. Norma Desmond is, perhaps, her most divisive role. She's often said that she wanted to avoid a campy performance and was very concerned with making Norma "extravagant but real." In short, she didn't want to give a drag queen performance, nor did she. Hers is amongst the most subtle Norma Desmonds, at least in regards to acting. Vocally, LuPone pulls no punches and delivers a performance described as both "Broadwayesque and operatic" - no easy feat. Most of the criticism directed at her zeroed in on her acting, or perceived "lack" of acting, rather than her singing. Many found her too human, too sane. Perhaps in her desire to avoid camp she restrained herself too much during her early days of doing the part. LuPone herself even felt she got better after she was fired, due to the anger she felt at RUG mirroring the anger Norma felt at the current film industry. Surviving glimpses of her final performances show tremendous growth in the role, both vocally and emotionally, and there's no doubt that her personal experience helped her identify with Norma more than ever before and lent a sense of urgency and truth to her performance that perhaps, through no fault of her own, she simply couldn't find early on. If only the cast album were recorded later in the run...

Glenn Close is a horse of a completely different color. Whereas LuPone started off demure, Close was full-on intensity right from the very beginning. Where LuPone's speaking voice was subdued and dripping with passive-agressive disdain, Close's voice was loud and commanding and burning with fury. Here was the performance the critics were waiting for. A movie star playing a movie star, what could be more appropriate? Extravagant, manipulative, theatrical, dynamic...here was the intense Norma they'd been hoping for. On the album, some of her line readings are pure Cruella DeVil, but as with London the recording was made very early on in the run. Glenn herself admitted the recording didn't capture her at her best, wishing it had been made in New York when she was more comfortable with the part. And while her singing voice was no match for LuPone's power, oftentimes full-blooded singing isn't the only way to approach a show. Sometimes an imperfect voice can lend the right amount of emotion and character that a perfect voice cannot. Critics of Close have cited the stark contrast between her head and chest voice as a negativity, and have also taken issue with the songs that were lowered in key to accommodate her range. Personally, this never bothered me. Dropping the keys was as much about creating a darker tone for the show as it was for Glenn's voice, and different keys can reveal different layers of the character depending on the actress in question. Naturally, some LuPone fans seem to take great pleasure at knocking Glenn for not having Patti's range (though they seem to have no problem with Patti performing "Sweeney Todd" and "Gypsy" in keys that are lower than the originals). LuPone's performance was appropriate for the key she sang in, and Close's was too.

While those are some of the major differences between the two actresses, I could go on for hours about the particular elements of each performance and all the subtleties therein, but there's no need. You can describe to your hearts content, but the simple truth is that they're different. No matter those involved, each performance is unique. You can have the view that there's only one way to play the part, and anyone who doesn't stick to that mold is wrong, or you can take each performance in turn and figure out how different interpretations can add or take away from a show. There is nothing wrong with having a preference, that's unavoidable. But there's also nothing wrong with appreciating multiple versions of the same thing. At the end of the day, LuPone and Close offer two valid Norma Desmonds, each of which will appeal to different people in turn. And that goes for all the other Normas, and the Fantines, and the Eponines, and the Phantoms, and every other musical theatre role out there that most actors would kill for. Theatre is organic, constantly growing, ever changing, ever flowing. There is no right or wrong way to do anything in the theatre. If something perhaps doesn't illicit the desired response, it can be changed come the next performance. You can do it one way this night, a different way the next. Patti LuPone and Glenn Close each contributed, and continue to contribute, to that organic lifeform that is the theatre. Their Normas bloomed and faded in turn, but thanks to the magic of cast albums those flowers can be regrown at any time. And for striving for artistic excellence and inner truth, I commend both of them for giving us new ways to dream.

C'est Magnifique! Recalling Tom Hooper's Les Miz

My initial exposure to the musical Les Miz was a live recording of "I Dreamed a Dream" sung by Aretha Franklin. Being 8 or 9 years old at the time, I was unaware that the recording was taken at an inaugral performance and naturally assumed it was recorded live during the actual show. As a result, I spent a year or so under the impression that Les Miz was all about the oppression of black slaves in the American south. It wasn't until I stumbled across a used copy of the 10th Anniversary Concert on VHS, watched a few minutes and thought: "Why are they all white?" that my misinterpretation was corrected. Now I realized why the title was in French, and settled in to watch the story of one man's journey through the years to earn redemption, and the uprising of the miserable ones along the way. I'm not even going to bother to give a more complete synopsis than that, it'd take too long.

Since that inauspicious start, my knowledge of Les Miz, its story and its many productions has become much more well informed. I now own not only the concert but the French concept album, the original London and Broadway recordings, the three hour Complete Symphonic Recording and a highlights album of the Duisberg production in German. When I learned the long-awaited film version was finally to be made, I braced myself. I knew I had to see it, yet my buring passion for the show had faded somewhat in the last several years. Would this film rekindle the flame or put it out for good? Suffice it to say, the film's highlights album now sits on my shelf next to the other recordings.

I'll be honest: Les Miz didn't hook me from the start. True, the opening underwater shot of the tattered French flag floating on the surface, then the dramatic rising of the camera to reveal a giant ship being pulled into drydock by Javert's prisoners was very impressive. But the overture sounded so timid, so scaled back. Where was the dymanic surround sound this film surely deserved? Why was all the music and singing so firmly anchored in front, reserving only sound effects for the back? And why wasn't it louder? Had the much-hyped "live" singing on the set prevented the orchestra from getting too big? I can only speculate for now, but despite Hugh Jackman looking his grittiest and Russell Crowe looking imposing, I wasn't won over yet.

A few minutes went by. I enjoyed seeing Colm Wilkinson, the original Jean Valjean in both London and New York, as the Bishop of Digne. But why were all the cameras so tight on the action? Where's the sense of space, the epic grandness these types of Hollywood films are afforded. Why is everything so cramped? Still not convinced...

Then we have a time lapse. Anne Hathaway is introduced as the destitute Fantine. Most reviews focus on Hathaway as delivering the film's defining moment while singing the aforementioned "I Dreamed a Dream." It was a tremendously moving performance, and I felt my cold heart slowly begin to melt at the sight of her tear drenched face, violins weeping in the background along with her. I could see what all the fuss was about; it was a tour de force of emotion and Hathaway fully deserves the Best Supporting Actress oscar for it.

Now things were getting interesting, the setting more stylized and gritty. My heart lit up even more at the sight of Frances Rufelle, the original Eponine in both London and New York, as one of the "Lovely Ladies" of the evening, and I began to tear up at the sight of Fantine dying while remembering her daughter's face.

Then we have a confrontation between Javert and Valjean, after skipping out on his parole all those years ago. Aha, things are picking up now. Then it's Valjean off to rescue Cosette from the hands of the horrible inkeepers, the Thernardiers. Now for some comedy relief. Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen gave delightfully restrained performances of the two most over-the-top roles the stage version produced, no doubt determined to make the parts their own. Then Valjean has the abused Cosette in his arms and has fled with her in a carriage, delivering the newly written "Suddenly", a beautiful little song that fits so seamlessly into the score it's as though it's always been there. I found myself starting to swoon at the emotion. The magic truly was back.

I won't ramble on much longer. Suffice it to say the next time lapse brought about my favourite section of the film by far: the building of the barricade and the revolution itself. By this point I was totally transfixed and mesmerized by everything on the screen. By this point, I understood why the sound was intimate, why the cameras so tight. The story is an epic one, yes, but it's so intrinsically human that Hooper made the wise decision not to let the scenery and settings engulf them. By keeping the camera focused tight on the action, we're in the story. We're fighting among them. On stage there will always be a sense of detachment as you watch people perform in front of you, often from quite a distance away. But in film it doesn't have to be that way, and I salute the filmmakers for making this as filmic an experience as possible.

Nor did we need over-produced music to engulf us and take us out of the story. Keep it quaint, keep it real. And it made it all the more powerful when the booming gunshots went off; so loud you'd swear you were in the line of fire yourself.

The performances were marvelous. Jackman was a terrific Jean Valjean, encompassing hurt, betrayal, anger, love, compassion...name the emotion, he covered it beautifully. Hathaway was to die for as Fantine. The divisive reaction to Russell Crowe left me feeling somewhat unsure about what to expect from him, but I was pleasantly surprised. No, his voice wasn't terribly commanding, but his more restrained, quiet Javert worked for the movie, and his presence was as imposing as ever. The brooding Aaron Tveit was an impressive Enjolras while Daniel Huttlestone was a great little scene stealer as Gavroche. Amanda Seyfried performed the underwritten role of Cosette without the overdose of saccharine many of her stage counterparts have imbibed the part with, and won my favour as a result, while Samantha Barks delivered a beautiful performance as Eponine. The real find for me, however, was Eddie Redmayne, who was absolutely fantastic as Marius Pontmercy, and managed to make his love for Cosette feel considerably less shallow than I've ever seen/heard before. With all due respect to Hathaway, Redmayne's gutwrenching performance of the tearjerker "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" was the film's defining emotional moment for me.

By the time the film's ending came about, I was trembling all over, my cheeks soaking wet, my body feeling numb. I won't give away more spoilers, but this movie has my vote for greatest ending of all time. I stayed in place until the credits had ended, being swept in by the gorgeous instrumental medley that accompanied them. As I stood to leave, the last one in the theatre, quietly sniffling, I knew I'd just had a once in a lifetime experience. I will, of course, buy the blu-ray when it comes out, but no subsequent viewing of the film will be quite the same for me. Never again will I have the opportunity to start the movie with a feeling of doubt, of disappointment, only to find myself being sucked in and won over until I've totally forgotten any other world exists apart from the one on the screen. To become so immersed in something very familiar yet very new at the same time is a rare feeling that's hard to put into words, but it's a tremendous feeling. I will cherish the memory of this viewing more than practically any other first-time movie experience. To see something you've loved for years given new life in such a beautiful way is beyond words. My thanks to all the cast and crew of Les Miz. You've done yourselves proud and created a true masterpiece. C'est Magnifique!