Reviews & Columns |
Reviews DVD TV on DVD Blu-ray 4K UHD International DVDs In Theaters Reviews by Studio Video Games Features Collector Series DVDs Easter Egg Database Interviews DVD Talk Radio Feature Articles Columns Anime Talk DVD Savant Horror DVDs The M.O.D. Squad Art House HD Talk Silent DVD
|
DVD Talk Forum |
|
Resources |
DVD Price Search Customer Service #'s RCE Info Links |
Columns
|
|
Meredith Wilson's The Music Man (TV Film)
The DVD:
When Prof. Harold Hill jumps freight in River City, Iowa, he has one heck of a devious plan in mind. The Professor is really a confidence man, hopping from backwater burg to Bible Belt boarding house offering to sell the rural rubes on the idea of a boy's band. All he has to do is stir up trouble, link the brash behavior to juvenile delinquency and demand that parents place their deviant kids in a marching band to give them discipline and respect. And he will be there every inch of the way to sell them instruments, sheet music and band uniforms. After pocketing the dough, he'll then rush off to another city full of suckers and do it all over again. He has ways of confusing public officials and local schoolmarms. But three things happen in River City that he wasn't expecting. First, he never thought he'd meet old friend (and fellow grifter) Marcellus Washburn. And while he hoped for a gullible group of dupes, the citizens of River City buy everything (and I do mean EVERYTHING) he has to sell with cheerful glee. But the most obvious pitfall to completing this scam is the local librarian, Marian Paroo. She has Prof. Hill's number in more ways than one. Not only is she convinced he's a fraud, but she may also be falling in love with him. And much to his surprise, Hill finds himself head over heels as well.
There is no denying that Matthew Broderick has talent. He is one of the few modern performers who can balance comedy, drama, straight and musical theater with equal skill. Where once Tinsel Town was top heavy with gifted singers and dancers, all able to sell a show tune with power and presence, there are precious few today who can carry a tune and shuffle off to Buffalo with style. The fact that Matt has put his money where his tap shoes are, constantly climbing in front of the footlights to test his musical mettle is fantastic. And so far, he has been pretty good about the libretto companions he keeps. Only he could take the dated, swinging silliness of the corporate take-off How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying and turn it into a modern must-see. The revival show's success could definitely be chalked up to Broderick's work in it, not the timelessness of Loesser's limp social commentary. Presently, Matt is breaking the bank with Mel Brook's box office blockbuster, The Producers. He has even earned his own place in the lexicon of classic Broadway history by being an irrevocable, definitive part of that delicious duo of bad play backers. People have actually canceled their tickets, high priced passes that they waited months to receive, simply because Broderick (or his equally creative co-star Nathan Lane) are unable to perform that night. Being so skilled as a song and dance man, one would have to assume that Broderick could take on any role he wanted. Too bad this notion, and his next choice, was so completely wrong.
It's with much musical loving sadness that one has to report that this latest version of The Music Man is shipped via Wells Fargo to the audience not C.O.D. but D.O.A. Frankly, this was the wrong project for Broderick's baby face features and regular guy grace. Prof. Harold Hill is a super slick lothario, the kind of traveling salesman that adults tell tasteless jokes about. Part of the joy in the original production (and film version) of the show is that Robert Preston seemed like the kind of sleazy pervert who would love them, leave them and take a few monetary reminders as mementos. It makes the final act of love-inspired redemption that much more dramatic and sweet. But poor old Matt just can't look cocky. He can strut and spin the bull with the best of them, but he always looks like your little brother trying to imitate your fast talking Uncle. Meredith Wilson worked within Preston's limited vocal range to create near-rap renditions of brilliant lyrical characterization. But Broderick just can't seem to get the complex couplets out of his mouth without looking unsure. And nothing kills a 'confidence' man faster than lack of certainty. If there's one role his talent is perfectly suited for, it would be as Bobby in a full on retro-groovy TV telling of Company, Stephen Sondheim's early 70s variety showcase for the sexual revolution and all its interpersonal pitfalls. As a matter of fact, this interpretation of one of theater's great works makes so much sense that you shouldn't be too surprised to see it sometime soon (and hopefully they will give yours truly the praise – and the associate producers credit – I so rightly deserve). But to tackle one of the more complex, precarious pieces of classic musical comedy is downright foolish. The Music Man is and always will be the sole chattel of Preston and his verbal volley skills. Our man Matt is just not up to the task.
There are actually two other ghosts haunting this remake, the spirit of one late great comedian and the soul of one of the stage's most soaring, magnificent musical voices. These peeved poltergeist storm this cracked creation with a tidal wave of wanting that Broderick and cast can never quite overcome. While it may not be fair to compare the past with the present, it is a bold faced fact that David Aaron Baker is no Buddy Hackett and Kristin Chenoweth cannot hold Shirley Jones Chloraseptic. They are not bad performers, not by a long shot. Placed in the proper vehicle capable of accenting their winning talents, they could easily steal the show from their fellow co-stars. Inserted into this dry, droning remake though, each manages to find a way to be even duller. Baker's limp, lackluster version of Hackett's quintessential "Shipoopi" is just shi-shitty. And though she nearly redeems herself with a heart wrenching reading of "'Til There Was You" with Broderick, Chenoweth is never really 'old maid' Paroo. She cannot give the role the knowing naiveté and sexual allure that Jones personified. Indeed, the entire casting of this near-catastrophe is completely off the mark. Victor Garber may have made a great Liberace, but he is absolutely wrong for the role of the mentally aloof, malapropos dropping Mayor Shinn. This character is supposed to be a joke, not a villainous heavy. But Garber insists upon giving every line reading some venom-dipped dramatics to utterly kill the tone. And any movie that has you pining away for the ripe ribaldry and classic comic timing of Hermione Gingold has got to be missing a few cinematic screws.
But that's exactly the problem with this version of The Music Man. From the opening train car roundelay, a highlight from the original film and a fantastic bit of introductory song craft, this modern muddle gets off on the wrong foot. Maybe it's the sore thumb qualities provided by the sole African American salesman leading his 'white' brothers in the complicated choral (PC makes for strange boxcar fellows). Perhaps it's the myriad of ethnic groups represented in what is historically a Caucasian enclave (Iowa is apparently as much of a melting pot as Hell's Kitchen). Truth be told, the diversity of River City's citizenry wouldn't be as noticeable had ham handed director Jeff Bleckner not constantly made them the center of attention. This TV movie maestro whose sullied the small screen with such awful offal as Peter Benchley's The Beast, Runaway Virus and Dean Koontz's Black River (quite the resumé for helming a movie musical, huh?) basically gets caught off-guard by Wilson's mix of operetta and rapid fire farce and never manages to catch up. In order to compensate, he makes sure his minority cast members are front and center in almost every shot. Only after the Fourth of July celebration, when Hill and Ms. Paroo meet at the footbridge to pitch woo, does his direction seem to catch its breath. For the last 20 minutes, this update of the classic wants to work. Broderick can act and Chenoweth delivers the goods on "'Til There Was You". But it ends up being far too little too late (at 2 hours and 25 minutes, the movie feels much longer).
The Music Man originally was very much a musical reflection of a time and place, of an attitude and social structure that now seems impossible for modern America to understand. Basically a cautionary tale about remaining closed off to culture and conservative in your mindset, it's a show that mocks the embracing of conformity as it champions expression through the arts. All of this nuance is lost in the remake, perhaps because it is so busy trying to be respectful to the source. Or maybe it's because it every so often looks like a group of goofy youngsters playing dress-up. There is no attempt to make River City seem like a real place instead of a back lot locale and the entire population of the town looks like visitors from the studio tour, not tried and true Midwesterners. When they sing the famous "Iowa Stubborn" song, you get the impression that the actors are speaking from purely second hand knowledge. Nothing is authentic about this version of The Music Man. It merely hopes to showcase the talent of one of our few remaining musical mavens and get away with everything else being borderline amateur hour. If Broderick had been Robert Preston Lite, this confused concoction still could have worked. But too many things are wrong about this dull, drippy dirge-a-thon (since when did the songs from this show become so lifeless?). Prof. Harold Hill may believe the "think" system will teach his so-called "band" to play. But no amount of brainpower could make this critic "think" this Music Man is anything but derivative.
The Video:
Rule #1 about a musical is that it can never, EVER be shot in full screen and be considered suitable. True, before there was such a thing as Cinemascope or Panavision, most songfest movie frames were close to 1.33:1. But since the birth of the letterbox, there is no need to compress your compositions to fit the home viewer's idea of acceptable aspect ratios. Director Bleckner's boob tube choice means that everything about this image looks cramped and hemmed in. While the transfer itself is fairly dynamic, the overall feeling of the film is that of something that's supposed to be widescreen cropped to fit the glass teat. Bright colors, decent detail and deep blacks aside, this is a badly botched idea of a proper movie image.
The Audio:
Rule #2 about a musical is that it has to have an impressive aural presentation. Thankfully, The Music Man lives up to this mandate by giving the listener a wonderfully crisp and clear Dolby Digital 5.1 Stereo Surround soundscape. While the channels only come alive during the City Square and town hall sequences, there is a joyful ambiance created just hearing Wilson's wonderful score in an excellent sonic package. The best thing about this version of the classic musical is the audio itself.
The Extras:
Disney's decision to go light on the extras is a standard corporate policy for the miserly Mouse House. They just don't seem to think that a DVD is anything but flattened and rounded videotape. We do get a series of trailers representing further nauseating examples of the derivative daggers Big D has at the ready to thrust into Uncle Walt's lifeless legacy. But the main meat of the bonus content is a 6-minute making-of featurette that carries the smell of publicity puff piece all the way from Eisner's marketing office and into your living room. Nothing informative or enlightening is learned. We do get to witness some of how the musical was conceived and staged, but not enough to really matter. As if to continue making the point about perfect product positioning, the DVD's final extra is a clip from the 2003 affiliates conference where a frightened Kristin Chenoweth does her best to convince the small market managers that her take on the role of Marian Paroo will not be another Cop Rock. Though she belts her ballad like a trouper, she is fighting an uphill battle.
Final Thoughts:
Many may think that it's not fair to compare when dealing with The Music Man. After all, there have been several incarnations of other famous works associated with one major mover in the world of musical theater and the artistic world has survived quite nicely. Nathan Lane made mincemeat out of Zero Mostel's memory when he transformed A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum into his own decadent drag delirium. Alan Cummings made Joel Grey seem that much more older when he reinvented and recaptured the role of the depraved MC in Cabaret. Even little Bernadette Peters and country chanteuse Reba McIntire have managed to send Ethel Merman's memory home screaming to husband of 32 days Ernest Borgnine by taking Momma Rose and Annie Oakley back from the once brash belter's basket of definitive roles. Some may argue that Broderick himself swiped a swatch of Robert Morse's thunder, turning Pontie Finch into his own mixture of Ferris Bueller and naive mail clerk. But The Music Man should have remained untouchable. Although, throughout the course of the decades, many have tried (including Tony Randall and Forrest Tucker???) Robert Preston remains the gold standard by which any and all adaptations must pass. This 2003 made for TV tedium just can't live up to the level of expertise and precision rendered by the original Broadway and movie cast members. It may be worth a rental just to hear a masterful score since Meredith Wilson's spectacular music and lyrics survive mostly intact, but the rest of the musical is muddled and mundane. There definitely is trouble in River City. With a capital 't' and that rhymes with 'b' and that stands for 'Broderick'.
Want more Gibron Goodness? Come to Bill's TINSEL TORN REBORN Blog (Updated Frequently) and Enjoy! Click Here
|
Popular Reviews |
Sponsored Links |
|
Sponsored Links |
|
Release List | Reviews | Shop | Newsletter | Forum | DVD Giveaways | Blu-Ray | Advertise |
Copyright 2024 DVDTalk.com All Rights Reserved. Legal Info, Privacy Policy, Terms of Use,
Manage Preferences,
Your Privacy Choices
|