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A CurtainUp Review
The Cradle Will Rock
Under a white backdrop with the words, "In the rich man's house, the only place to spit is in his face," the setting is a jail in Steeltown, USA. It is the night of an expected riot at a union drive in front of union headquarters. The police have arrested masses of people, some mistakenly, like the conservative "Liberty Committee" of prominent company bosses, university professors, journalists, artists and a Reverend, all under the thumb of Mr. Mister, Steeltown's most powerful citizen. Over the evening, each steps forward to tell his story, making it evident that in one way or another, everyone, including the homeless druggist and the street walker, have already somehow sold out to Mr. Mister. The original opening of The Cradle Will Rock, has its own fascinating story. The production was financed by the WPA's Federal Theater Project and scheduled to open in June 1937 at New York City's Maxine Elliott Theater. New York was in a state of unrest between newly organized labor and employers. Four days before opening, the WPA forbade actors and musicians from appearing on stage without union membership and then padlocked the theater and everything in it. With no money, sheet music, costumes or scenery, the play seemed doomed until a donor provided an upright piano and members of the press contributed to rent another space. On opening night, director Orson Welles and producer John Houseman led the cast and ticket-holders uptown to the off-Broadway Venice Theater where the actors sat with the audience. At the upright was Blitzstein who played the score while the cast sang from their seats. (Although they were forbidden to sing on a stage, there was no injunction against singing from the house.) The show played at the Venice for 19 performances, then moved to the Mercury Theater and in January 1938, began a regular run at Broadway's Windsor Theater. Directed by Sam Gold in concert style, the Encores! production reflects a similar dramatic conceit today and the Encores ensemble embodies its multifaceted characters with incendiary spirit. Battle is waged between Larry Foreman, played by Raul Esparza ( Company ), versus Mr. Mister, portrayed by Danny Burstein ( Golden Boy, Follies . In flawless performances, Esparza is dynamic, a fiery evangelistic union organizer, the only one not under Mr. Mister's control. As Mr. Mister, Burstein projects pompous confidence, evidenced as he strolls in front of the stage, too self-important to care about the audience as he passes. With steely malevolence he pits his committee members against Foreman. David Friedman as Harry Druggist grabs your heart as he tells his story of selling out and artists Yasha (Martin Moran) and Dauber (Henry Stram) comically add a Gallagher-and-Sheen style vaudeville segment. Other cast members include Judy Kuhn, cigar clamped in her mouth, as the newspaper editor, Mathew Saldivar as sleazy Reverend Salvation and young Aidan Gemme, IPad in hand, humorously triple-cast in adult parts. Stunning as a widow who has just identified her husband's body, a pro-union working stiff, Da'Vine Joy Randolph steps from the end of the row. With restrained fury, she nails the searing 11 o'clock number challenging Mr. Mister, "How many toiling, ailing, dying, piled up bodies, Brother, does it take to make you wise?" Playing Moll, the prostitute, Anika Noni Rose, with her warm, rangy vocal tone, compellingly evokes Moll's naiveté under a street-tough veneer. She also plays the haughty and comical Mrs. Mister with costume designer Clint Ramos providing clever colorful hats to fit the decades. Irony is evident with the cast dressed in black tie (Mr. Mister, the big-shot, was in white tie) and long evening gowns. A split in reality comes when Moll, the streetwalker, lavish in silk, sings her lament of poverty, "Mister, you don't know what it felt like, thinkin' that was a nickel under my foot." Blitzstein's music, with Chris Fenwick leading a 14-piece orchestra, is alive with street energy, discordance, chorals and solos with melodic lines that support the spirit of the times. The gripping finale has the cradle rocking with Foreman's arm pointed into the rafters while from offstage come the sounds of marching feet and shouting crowds. Onstage, the cast stands poised as stagehands remove Mr. Mister's tuxedo jacket and bulky padding, and collect microphones and music stands. With the house lights on, the audience is left to consider how, and if, the ensuing years have affected unions, big bosses and society at all. in Editor's Note: Too bad this interesting production had too short a run for Elizabeth's justly enthusiastic review to send you to City Center to see it. Instead, the show has closed just as we post this. For another and different production reviewed at Curtainup, go here.
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