Cabaret Scenes Theatre Review - Young Frankenstein

The new Mel Brooks musical, at the Hilton Theatre, is silly. Silly is good when all the pieces fit, but it takes a couple of hours before Young Frankenstein finds its fountain of youth with Irving Berlin's "Puttin' On the Ritz." Sit back and enjoy those jokes that hit the mark, because really, there are not that many.

"These are times when your brain should be the last thing on your mind!" says Inga. Brooks, Meehan and Stroman certainly heed the advice, but close as Young Frankenstein clings to the original comedy film – and close it is – it remains shtick oriented with enhanced sexual double entrendres ballooned to their limits. The songs befit the 1930s: A vaudevillian "Together Again;" fail-safe allusions to familiar tunes ("There Is Nothing Like a Brain;" "Pardon me, Boy/Is this the Transylvania Station?"). Cute yes, but they quickly feel shoehorned into the spaces. The songs neither flow, nor enhance characters or plot because the 1974 film is not naturally suited to musical adaptation.

Dr. Frankenstein ("Fronkensteen," if you please) has died, and his grandson, Frederick Frankenstein (Roger Bart), travels from America to claim the estate in Transylvania. He leaves behind his American fiancée, Elizabeth (Megan Mullally). Arriving in the old country, Frederick connects with a humpbacked sidekick, Igor ("eye-gore"), played with compelling loyalty by Christopher Fitzgerald. He also meets Inga (Sutton Foster), an earthy local girl who becomes Frederick's love interest and helpmate. They hop a video-friendly hayride to the castle, pulled by two amusingly fake horses, with projections of bare birch trees whooshing by. There Inga, singing "Roll in the Hay," all flailing legs and pushed-up bosom, makes her move on Freddie, revealing yodeling skills with her lustiness.

Dr. Frankenstein's Transylvania castle is much as you might imagine, with shadows, steep staircases and a deliciously malevolent housekeeper, Frau Blucher (Andrea Martin), feared by all. Even the horses whinny whenever they hear her name; it's funny the first time, done repeatedly it's tiresome. Martin plays Frau Blucher with captivating sly control. She confesses that once upon a time, she was Dr. Frankenstein's lover and delivers, Dietrich-style, a crowd-pleasing, "He Vas My Boyfriend."

Poking around the castle, Frederick, Igor, and Elsa find the secret staircase leading to the hidden basement laboratory where Dr. Frankenstein created the monster. Frederick decides to continue the "family business" and revives a dead man with a new brain and a dose of electricity. Shuler Hensley plays the resulting old-style movie monster, threatening only by his size, color and groan. In his big "Puttin' On the Ritz" sequence, this not-jolly but very green giant, all gussied up in top hat, tails, and wonderfully clunky tap shoes, shows his plucky inner self, lumbering through a tap dance with a chorus line behind him. No Fred Astaire, for sure, but giving it the spunky musical comedy try in a monstrous kind of way.

The ensemble dancers and singers are enthusiastic and cheerful, but the cast hardly sparkles. Roger Bart, unforgettable as Carmen Ghia in The Producers, is a bland Frederick Frankenstein, lacking the tense quirkiness to round out the character. As the abandoned Elizabeth, Megan Mullally tries her darnest to enliven into her deadly songs, all aiming for humor with the lowest vulgar denominator, from "Please Don't Touch Me" to a belting "Deep Love."

Sutton Foster's Inga calls in all her cartwheels, high kicks, and acrobatic skills, but her sexiness comes off more sprightly than sultry. A sympathetic moment is her rendition of "Listen to Your Heart." Sidekick Igor is an irrepressible ham, and cavorts engagingly in "Transylvania Mania." Fred Applegate is satisfying as both the Transylvanian inspector and the blind hermit, a blend of Al Jolson and Mandy Patinkin.

Director/choreographer Susan Stroman's vivacious dance numbers help keep the energy level high, but they are largely familiar production prop numbers,

Spectacularly theatrical, however, is Robin Wagner's staging, dramatically filling the huge Hilton stage and the yawning space above it. While the musical numbers do not sing, the staging does, with lightening blasts that won't quit and thunder that astounds. If Peter Kaczorowski's lighting and Jonathan Deans' sound threaten the senses, they do galvanise the stage, shaded in horror-film black-and-white. William Ivey Long designed colorful costumes for the characters, and the opening scene is arresting when villagers shed their funereal black to reveal vibrant peasant dress.

Young Frankenstein, after almost $20 million and much anticipation, turns out to be a so-so blend of stale yuks, repetitious clichés, and high-tech stage effects. Not really funny business for high-priced Broadway.

Elizabeth Ahlfors
Cabaret Scenes
November 27, 2007
www.cabaretscenes.org



	Young Frankenstein Hilton Theatre New York, NY
The new Mel Brooks musical, at the Hilton Theatre, is silly. Silly is good when all the pieces fit, but it takes a couple of hours before Young Frankenstein finds its fountain of youth with Irving Berlin's "Puttin' On the Ritz." Sit back and enjoy those jokes that hit the mark, because really, there are not that many. "These are times when your brain should be the last thing on your mind!" says Inga. Brooks, Meehan and Stroman certainly heed the advice, but close as Young Frankenstein clings to the original comedy film – and close it is – it remains shtick oriented with enhanced sexual double entrendres ballooned to their limits. The songs befit the 1930s: A vaudevillian "Together Again;" fail-safe allusions to familiar tunes ("There Is Nothing Like a Brain;" "Pardon me, Boy/Is this the Transylvania Station?"). Cute yes, but they quickly feel shoehorned into the spaces. The songs neither flow, nor enhance characters or plot because the 1974 film is not naturally suited to musical adaptation. Dr. Frankenstein ("Fronkensteen," if you please) has died, and his grandson, Frederick Frankenstein (Roger Bart), travels from America to claim the estate in Transylvania. He leaves behind his American fiancée, Elizabeth (Megan Mullally). Arriving in the old country, Frederick connects with a humpbacked sidekick, Igor ("eye-gore"), played with compelling loyalty by Christopher Fitzgerald. He also meets Inga (Sutton Foster), an earthy local girl who becomes Frederick's love interest and helpmate. They hop a video-friendly hayride to the castle, pulled by two amusingly fake horses, with projections of bare birch trees whooshing by. There Inga, singing "Roll in the Hay," all flailing legs and pushed-up bosom, makes her move on Freddie, revealing yodeling skills with her lustiness. Dr. Frankenstein's Transylvania castle is much as you might imagine, with shadows, steep staircases and a deliciously malevolent housekeeper, Frau Blucher (Andrea Martin), feared by all. Even the horses whinny whenever they hear her name; it's funny the first time, done repeatedly it's tiresome. Martin plays Frau Blucher with captivating sly control. She confesses that once upon a time, she was Dr. Frankenstein's lover and delivers, Dietrich-style, a crowd-pleasing, "He Vas My Boyfriend." Poking around the castle, Frederick, Igor, and Elsa find the secret staircase leading to the hidden basement laboratory where Dr. Frankenstein created the monster. Frederick decides to continue the "family business" and revives a dead man with a new brain and a dose of electricity. Shuler Hensley plays the resulting old-style movie monster, threatening only by his size, color and groan. In his big "Puttin' On the Ritz" sequence, this not-jolly but very green giant, all gussied up in top hat, tails, and wonderfully clunky tap shoes, shows his plucky inner self, lumbering through a tap dance with a chorus line behind him. No Fred Astaire, for sure, but giving it the spunky musical comedy try in a monstrous kind of way. The ensemble dancers and singers are enthusiastic and cheerful, but the cast hardly sparkles. Roger Bart, unforgettable as Carmen Ghia in The Producers, is a bland Frederick Frankenstein, lacking the tense quirkiness to round out the character. As the abandoned Elizabeth, Megan Mullally tries her darnest to enliven into her deadly songs, all aiming for humor with the lowest vulgar denominator, from "Please Don't Touch Me" to a belting "Deep Love." Sutton Foster's Inga calls in all her cartwheels, high kicks, and acrobatic skills, but her sexiness comes off more sprightly than sultry. A sympathetic moment is her rendition of "Listen to Your Heart." Sidekick Igor is an irrepressible ham, and cavorts engagingly in "Transylvania Mania." Fred Applegate is satisfying as both the Transylvanian inspector and the blind hermit, a blend of Al Jolson and Mandy Patinkin. Director/choreographer Susan Stroman's vivacious dance numbers help keep the energy level high, but they are largely familiar production prop numbers, Spectacularly theatrical, however, is Robin Wagner's staging, dramatically filling the huge Hilton stage and the yawning space above it. While the musical numbers do not sing, the staging does, with lightening blasts that won't quit and thunder that astounds. If Peter Kaczorowski's lighting and Jonathan Deans' sound threaten the senses, they do galvanise the stage, shaded in horror-film black-and-white. William Ivey Long designed colorful costumes for the characters, and the opening scene is arresting when villagers shed their funereal black to reveal vibrant peasant dress. Young Frankenstein, after almost $20 million and much anticipation, turns out to be a so-so blend of stale yuks, repetitious clichés, and high-tech stage effects. Not really funny business for high-priced Broadway. Elizabeth Ahlfors Cabaret Scenes November 27, 2007 www.cabaretscenes.org

Young Frankenstein

Hilton Theatre New York, NY

Hilton Theatre
New York, NY