The musical Duncan Sheik was working on when he…
Theater review
MEMOIRS OF AMOROUS GENTLEMEN
90 minutes with no intermission. At the Culture Club at 530 W. 27 St.
When Duncan Sheik, the author of the musical “Spring Awakening” and singer of the music “Barely Breathing,” unexpectedly died last month at age 56, his new off-Broadway show was about a week away from beginning previews.
That’s robust for a work in progress, which must be making modifications nightly. Without one of the creators, they’re caught in a state of paralysis. But Sheik’s rating, while far from excellent, will not be actually the main downside for “Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen,” the clumsy and uncomfortable musical that opened Thursday in the previous “Sleep No More” compound in the depths of Chelsea.
Although not his best work (that’s still “Spring Awakening”), some of the songs — notably those sung by Sophia Anne Caruso as Colette — are emotive and rousing; a wall of pure sound that’s more transportive than the rest in this awfully acquainted nightclub.
Sophia Anne Caruso stars in “Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen” off-Broadway. Andy Henderson
What troubles “Memoirs,” a musical set in a Parisian brothel that caters to males’s fetishes, is that it’s not arousing. Or even a little horny. Repeatedly calling the viewers “perverts” and cracking Borscht Belt orgasm jokes doesn’t actually get the blood pumping so a lot as the thoughts wandering.
And Rob Ashford’s direction has all the class of a meat mallet. I began to really feel dangerous for the supporting actors on the sidelines who spent minutes awkwardly petting each other during other people’s numbers.
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It’s particularly cringey when the rota of Johns are turned into straightforward jokes. Think a man with a circus kink dressed as a clown, a dude in a pink corset who likes getting shaved and a tongue-wagging man on a leash who desires of being a Labrador. The show isn’t sure if we’re supposed to rejoice these horn canines letting their freak flags fly or cruelly mock them for it. So the near-unanimous selection is silence.
And eerie quiet is deafening in this cathouse called the Night Egg, since the scantily-clad actors are often less than a foot away from you. Like a slew of other productions in current years — “Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812,” the current “Cabaret” revival and “Moulin Rouge!” — it’s set in an immersive membership.
There’s a spherical stage in the center, cocktail tables all over and I suspect the Garment District is totally out of purple velour. The atmosphere brings to thoughts a French phrase: Deja vu.
The musical is set in the Night Egg, a Parisian brothel. Andy Henderson
That can work sometimes. But too often, and undoubtedly right here, it’s akin to sneaking veggies in your child’s food. Let’s trick the viewers into going to the theater!
Scott Pask’s set is fairly, but also bland, just like the prefab home model of a burlesque theater. Just plop one down whenever and wherever you need it. Worse, Ashford makes no enjoyable or artistic use of the large room. It’s a complete lot of strolling in circles and writhing in the center of the stage. Clunky, clunky.
There is a story, type of. But Leah Nanako Winkler’s horrible e-book is a ham-handed assortment of cliches and cartoons that are laborious to take critically. Its 2-D high quality may very well be because it’s based on a Japanese Manga comedian e-book. In fact, it’s billed as the first-ever American musical to be. Not precisely an auspicious start!
Colette (Sophia Anne Caruso) is given an uncommon writing task by a buyer. Andy Henderson
The only character with some heft is Colette (Caruso), a younger spitfire of a prostitute who’s smarter than all the remainder. She’s our Emcee and our Satine rolled into one lesser creation.
One evening, a boring man named Mr. Sakae (Marc delaCruz) stops by the Night Egg. A blocked author, he’s not in the market for a roll in the hay, but for inspiration. Sakae provides Colette a pocket book and pays her to reply 4 questions: What makes you snigger? What makes you cry? What do you long for? And what is your perversion?
Everybody else: What is the run time?
Marc delaCruz performs Mr. Sakae. Andy Henderson
Nkeki Obi-Melekwe seems in a scene from MEMOIRS OF AMOROUS GENTLEMEN. Andy Henderson
With its struggling creator and courtesans in France, “Memoirs” has grand aspirations to be an edgier, downtown “Moulin Rouge.” Only it might’t can’t can’t. There is no operatic feeling, or even a lot of a level — only the faint suggestion of a vibe.
Colette’s ardour principally lies in her loser boyfriend Leon (Cory Jecoma with a very fairly voice), a smooth-talking jerk who takes her money and cheats on her with a high-end woman of the evening named Nana (Nkeki Obi-Melekwe). Love is in the air!
Really, the only instances during “Memoirs” we care about something is when Caruso is powerfully belting out her emotions, imprecise though they’re as written. The “Beetlejuice” star’s distinctive voice is the musical’s biggest asset. And for three minutes right here and there, the show abruptly switches into being good. Her sound is reminiscent of a trendy Edith Piaf, and is therefore the only remotely French factor in this.
The late Sheik’s music definitely isn’t — it’s a lot more Sheik than stylish — but it’s tuneful mushy rock with an occasional facet journey into “nntz nntz” beats and even a trace of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” at the end. The lyrics are choppier, but there’s nothing to be achieved about that now. Once recorded, it’ll make a good addition to a connoisseur’s assortment.
But to expertise the composer at his peak, skip the Night Egg and head uptown to the revival of “Spring Awakening” in November.
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