"Spider-Man' on Broadway (1st review)

"You know something's amiss when you leave a musical humming the scenery," goes an old Broadway musical axiom. But in the case of the recent opening of Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark, that's not a bad thing. In fact, it's a supreme compliment.

With its troubled gestation, traumatic birth and triumphant rebirth, this $70 million Broadway musical has attracted more press coverage than the recent scandals of Anthony Weiner and Dominic Strauss combined.

Ambulance chasers and theater vultures haven't bothered to disguise their glee, as one disaster after another has befallen a project nine years in the making. With its gargantuan budget, inflated artistic egos and super-sized technical ambitions, Spider-Man has already made history as the longest show technically in preview on Broadway.

Hospital case

During a high-wire flying sequence at a December preview, actor Christopher Tierney plunged into a pit, along with some equipment that tumbled into the audience. Tierney was rushed to the emergency room of Bellevue Hospital in serious condition. Miraculously, only one preview performance was cancelled.

Although the producers delayed the official opening repeatedly, in February the New York Times allowed its chief critic Ben Brantley to review Spider-Man. Brantley cited a technical glitch at the end of Act I as the highlight of the show, which he ranked "among the worst" ever to open on Broadway. Other newspapers soon concurred.

The producers asked writer-director Julie Taymor to step aside a month later; in April, the show closed for three weeks and the opening was delayed for the sixth time.

Yet on June 14, after 183 preview performances (the average is 30), Spider-Man opened to generally enthusiastic reviews (with a few exceptions, among them the New York Times). Audiences roared with laughter when the Green Goblin announced on stage: "I'm a $65 million circus tragedy "“ well, more like $75…"

Children's verdict

This kind of theater saga makes for colorful reading, if you enjoy a good dose of schadenfreude (which I don't, particularly). The question is: Is the show any good?

I for one have admired the producers' tenacity and perseverance, and have rooted for its success. At the same time, given the unsavory tone of the pre-opening press, I feared it would be difficult to comment on the show objectively. So I invited a 12-year-old and a nine-year-old, who knew nothing about the show's trials and tribulations, to attend the show with me and voice their comments.

Here are their reviews: "Cool" (the nine-year-old) and "Very cool" (the 12-year-old). I concur.

The creative team— old and new together— have served up the story, comic-book-style, of the nerdy Peter Parker, who is transformed into crime-fighting Spider-Man. To this story the collaborators have added a touch of mythology (Arachne as a guardian spider-angel) and a touching love story between Peter Parker and Mary Jane.

Jaw-dropping sequence

But it's the "serving up" that makes it a thrilling show. Set designer George Tsypin has created a spectacular high-tech, Technicolor Manhattan skyline from the top of the Chrysler Building. And not one, but a total of ten stuntmen fly in brilliantly choreographed sequence, creating the illusion of a Spider-Man who can soar faster than the speed of light.

It's that jaw-dropping flying sequence that captivated my 12- and nine-year-old companions"“ and me too. I haven't cheered that much since I saw Peter Pan fly more than five decades ago just a few blocks away.

All right— the musical score may be forgettable, the book may be pedestrian, and the atmosphere in the theater is a hybrid between a circus and Disneyworld. But oh, those flying Spider-Men….

Icarus flew too close to the sun too, but apparently, on Broadway, he's been given a second chance. Kudos for those tenacious Spider-Man producers, I say.

Flying at the Met, too

And they're not alone this season. Uptown at the Metropolitan Opera House, another Icarus— the avant-garde director Robert LePage— flew too close.

This time, the "musical" was of another order— Wagner's Ring Cycle— so there wasn't a question about improving the score. But like Spider-Man (forgive the dubious comparison), LePage's Ring became all about the scenery. Together with set designer Carl Fillion, he dreamed up a 45-ton set (rumored to cost between $20 and $40 million) that required a reinforced stage floor at the Met and a new hydraulic system beneath it.

At the opening night performance of Das Rheingold in September, the audience oohed and ahhed at the 24 undulating planks (dubbed "The Machine") and watched as the Rhine Maidens dangled from them in acrobatic poses while singing that celestial music.

But then it happened: In the opera's final moments, the set malfunctioned and a bewildered audience watched as Wotan and the gods, instead of ascending to Valhalla, simply shrugged and walked off the stage.

But producer Peter Gelb stood by his director and designer while they got "The Machine" to function, and a wonderful second installment, Die Walkure, opened this spring. Next season, we have Siegfried and Gotterdämmerung to look forward to "“ and all performed on a dazzling, newly functioning "Machine."

Keep flying, producers.♦


To read another review by Steve Cohen, click here.
To read a response, click here.