Songs sung blue

Current theater critic Tom Jenkins Curblogs again, this time re: The Color Purple, the novel/miniseries we said couldn't be musicalized:

The Color Purple -- a musicalization of Alice Walker’s Pulitzer-prize winning novel — has some huge strengths: much of the cast remains intact from the musical’s Broadway run, and the physical design — by John Lee Beatty — is a beautiful, postcard-perfect evocation of the rural South. But even at over 165 minutes (!), there’s simply too much plot for a fully satisfying musical: the first hour’s catalog of personal tragedies races by at breakneck speed — if it’s been eight minutes, it’s time for another sexual assault! — until you feel like you’re watching a list, not a plot. When the musical takes the time to luxuriate in a specific scene — such as a tension-filled evening at a local bar — the musical finally feels like a musical: staging, song, and plot all mesh. Otherwise, The Color Purple feels reverential, like a commentary on the novel rather than a free-standing work.

The music — by a trio of popular writers — is serviceable enough, but the demands of the plot usually mean a snippet here, a snippet there: few songs are allowed to really catch fire. The lesbian subtext, meanwhile, was met with a noticeably subdued response by Majestic patrons, which likely bodes ill for a pastiche musicalization of The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas.

The evening’s far from a dud. The woman next to me actually started weeping, in contradistinction to my frosty, marble gaze. (Hell, I won’t even cry for Argentina, so perhaps I’m not the target audience for this type of show.) Obviously, it’s connecting with audiences, and it has a strong social conscience, and I’d much rather see this than the 20th tour of Cats. Lastly, the chances of The Color Purple receiving a local remounting are pretty slim, so if you’re interested in what Oprah hath wrought, this handsome, talent-filled, yet ultimately flawed musical runs through Sunday downtown.

-- Thomas Jenkins