A Potent, Little Metaphor

In the late 1980s, I wrote a musical called Attempting the Absurd, about a young man who has figured out he's only a character in a musical and doesn't actually exist, and that knowledge causes him lots of grief. Ultimately, he wins the day by producing the script for Attempting the Absurd. I recently published the script and vocal selections for the show on Amazon, and I described the show as "meta before meta was cool."

But you know who did meta way before any of us? Gilbert and Sullivan.

Their operettas frequently referred to themselves and occasionally to each other, and more than that, half their agenda was mocking the conventions of opera, as they used them. Since we did our public reading of The Zombies of Penzance in January, I've been reading books about Gilbert & Sullivan, and seeking out videos of their shows (I highly recommend anything from Opera Australia). I had seen some of their shows, but I'm discovering the others now as well.

And what I realize is that half the G&S agenda is mocking polite society, politics, and human nature; and the other half is writing operas that mock opera. Gilbert's lyrics mock opera (with wildly inverted sentences, overblown imagery), Sullivan's music mocks opera (the repetition, the bombast, the self-indulgence, and once in a while, forty notes to one syllable), and the two of them together mock opera's seriousness, it's pomposity, its faux exoticism. Gilbert and Sullivan "broke" old-fashioned opera. They laid bare the silly conventions and cliches by both using and abusing them all at the same time. In term's of today's musical theatre, we might call G&S shows neo musical comedies, in the language of opera.

In fact, I think that's what I called Jerry Springer the Opera when we produced it.

Writing The Zombies of Penzance was technically very hard for me, but it wasn't hard conceptually. I get G&S and I've been in love with The Pirates of Penzance since I saw Kevin Kline do it on Broadway in the early 1980s -- just a few years before I started writing Attempting the Absurd, now that I think about it. It was enormously fun getting into Gilbert's voice with this show. Writing the dialogue in his voice was a breeze, but writing lyrics in his style is insanely difficult.

Here's one of my favorite moments of dialogue:

FREDERIC: Oh, would that you could render this extermination unnecessary by accompanying me back to civilization! No doubt the doctors and scientists have by now concocted an antidote, or failing that, they could cut all your heads off with a clean, sharp knife.

KING: No, Frederic, no, no, no, that cannot be. I don’t think much of this tedious, soulless, shadow life we endure, but contrasted with the forty-hour work week, it is comparatively fulfilling. No, Frederic, I shall live and die – and then live again and likely die again – a Zombie King!

But Gilbert wrote some incredibly complex rhymes, and I'm pretty sure I kept every rhyme scheme he set up, interior rhymes and all. This is my rewrite of "Climbing Over Rocky Mountain."

We’re Christian girls on a Christian outing,
No bad words and please, no shouting,
Far away from male temptation carnal,
Where our nethers never quiver,
By the ever-throbbing river,
Swollen where the summer rain
Comes gushing forth;
Gushing forth in spurts and sputters
Sloshing through the roads and gutters,
Pounding through the virgin hills below us.
Scaling rough and rugged passes,
Working out our shapely asses,
There are greater joys, we know, in purity!
Fit and healthy virgin lasses,
Keeping pure our virgin asses,
There are greater joys, we know…!

The one exception to my fidelity is in "Modern Era Zombie Killer," where I added one syllable to the title phrase though it still scans to the music correctly.

I am the very model of a modern-era zombie killer,
I can cut off heads and yet be gentle as a caterpillar.
Since the early days when the initial virus circulated,
When you think of me, you think of walking dead decapitated.
I’m very well acquainted, too, with matters metaphysical,
I understand the issues, both the obvious and quizzical.
If I could slaughter zombies, I would cross the River Styx for them.
I’ve seen Romero’s movies and I’ve memorized all six of them!

I like to make them suffer but I don’t think they can feel a lot;
Decapitation’s fun, I know, but zombies really squeal a lot!
In short, I can be fearsome or be gentle as a caterpillar;
I hereby present myself, a modern-era zombie killer.

But I don't think I changed anything else (other than making it into a zombie story). Despite the wacky origin story, I want Zombies to be as authentic a G&S show as this fanboy can make it.

But now as we're blocking the show, I realize, this is a really different kind of performance for the actors. There are so many songs and sections of songs in which the characters turn to the audience and explain the situation, their opinion of it, what they want, etc. Sometimes at great length. For musical theatre actors, that's so unnatural, to just stand and explain.

But as I think about it, I realize that's exactly what Threepenny does. Next to Normal does it a lot, also Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson, High Fidelity, and so many other shows. Even Sweet Smell of Success, which we produced last season. In these shows, the actor has to be both (or alternately) inside the scene and outside the scene -- but still the character either way -- both narrating and living through the moment, both in the place and time of the story, but also aware of and talking to the audience. That's a hell of a tightrope.

Also, like the original G&S show, we have a small stage and a relatively big cast, so staging is limited when everybody's onstage -- which is the last 10-15 minutes of both acts. I know being so physically static onstage for such a long time also feels weird to the actors. But having seen a lot of G&S shows now, they really do work this way. The music and text are so funny, and the plot is so insane, that the audience doesn't get bored in the least. The audience needs time to focus just on the words.

In fact, G&S shows usually follow a rule I learned from Hal Prince -- the more complex the content, the less active the scene should be physically. Think of brilliant musical theatre moments like "Being Alive," "The Ladies Who Lunch," "I'm Still Here," "Rose's Turn"... there's not a lot of movement, because there's so much going on emotionally, narratively, thematically.

If we make the audience choose between visuals and content, they'll choose visuals. Humans are visual creatures. We have to make them choose content sometimes -- well, often in a G&S show.

So our actors have all kinds of obstacles thrown at them this time. To find that neo musical comedy style, exaggerated, highly stylized, but still really honest -- that's not always easy (especially when you're playing an unusually high-functioning zombie). To find that reality that contains both the crazy inside world of our story and also our performance and audience. To get comfortable in the slow telescoping time of opera, even slower than musical theatre time. The scripts for musicals are much shorter than scripts for plays, because it takes longer to sing words than to speak them, because music operates on a different kind of time, a slower time. In musical theatre, actors learn to live inside those extended moments of time, fully alive but staying in that moment, that emotion, that reaction. Opera slows time down even more, because the music is even less in constant service of the storytelling. And Gilbert and Sullivan sometimes slow time down opera time even more than that, to mock the repetition and narrative pace of opera. Mabel's first entrance in Pirates/Zombies is one example. So are both act finales.

So the challenge for our actors is to create an interesting performance not in physical zombie shtick as much as in character, reaction, backstory, social context, and our wonderfully absurd set of circumstances. The idea of zombies eating, then marrying these girls has to seem to be a Very Serious Matter Altogether.

'Cause really, are marriage-friendly zombies any more ridiculous than man-eating flytraps? The secret to Little Shop is for the actors to take it totally seriously, to believe that Audrey II is a genuine threat. The material takes care of the funny. It's the same for us.

But our guys are playing zombies, after all. They have to be recognizably zombies. Zombies who sing operetta, including patter songs. Even though they can't walk very well. Because, did I mention, they're zombies.

All this reminds me of a great, weird show we produced called Bukowsical. The central joke of the show is that it tells the dark, ugly, cynical life story of the brilliant American writer Charles Bukowski, but in the most inappropriate form possible, a cheery, colorful, upbeat musical comedy. And that's essentially what The Zombies of Penzance is. It's a horror story told in the most inappropriate form possible, a bouncy, dry-humoured British comic opera.

And that wrongness, the frequent self-reference, the mismatch of form and content, and the constant violations of period (even though we're pretending this was written in 1878) are all part of the meta joke.

My zombie hunting habits, though a potent, little metaphor,
Are really more subversive than the critics give me credit for.
In nineteenth cent’ry operetta, comedy or thriller,
I am still the very model of a modern-era zombie killer!

We're telling the audience Gilbert and Sullivan wrote Zombies in 1878, but as you watch the show, we're constantly reminding you that Gilbert couldn't have possibly written these references to movies, to George Romero, to Pepto Bismal or the Aqua Teen Hunger Force, and he certainly never would have used the word fuck, which our show does a few times.

The fact that I rewrote Pirates as Zombies, and then concocted a ridiculously meta origin story, means it's a meta meta musical. It was already self-aware as Pirates, but now The Zombies of Penzance carries with it, every second, an awareness of Pirates, and for people who know Pirates well, there's even more fun to be had there, in how close to the original my "translation" often is.

Meanwhile, our actors will find their way. They always do. We often do shows that are just so weird or so unique in their particular rules that it takes the actors a while to figure out how it all ticks and how they fit into that clockwork. Luckily, they all trust me, so I just keep moving forward and they keep lumbering along beside me.

So much fun ahead. The adventure continues.

Long Live the Musical!
Scott

Buy Your Tickets Now!

"New Line Theatre is Saving the Musical."

New Line will soon start our 28th season. And I'm feeling more optimistic right now than I have in a long time. We have some long overdue good fiscal news...!

Believe me, this has never been an easy journey. I knew that when I started the company in 1991, but knowing it doesn't make it any easier. Throughout most of our history, we've generally stayed on an even keel fiscally -- one season might end in the hole a few hundred dollars, or less often, a few thousand, but the next season would always compensate. Only once were we in real fiscal trouble, after we had to close an already badly selling run early, due to a death in the New Line family. But the Regional Arts Commission stepped in with a loan, and within a year, we had corrected the imbalance and repaid the loan.

That was the only time, until a couple years ago.

Suddenly, for various reasons, we lost two big donors, a foundation grant, and then we were hit with the indignity of getting zero-funded by the Regional Arts Commission (under new management) after twenty-seven years of funding. More than fifty local organizations were similarly cut off by RAC for the coming season. So since 2016, we have been struggling mightily and we've completely retooled our budget, reducing it by about a third. But still we soldier on, and all this time we've have had amazing support, incredible loyalty, and venders with the patience of Job.

And now, I'm extremely happy to report that our 2017-2018 season ended with a surplus for the first time in three years, and two-thirds of our debt has been erased. If the season ahead sells half as well as we expect, we'll soon retire the rest of our debt.

I would be remiss if I didn't point out at this time that donations made before our fiscal year ends on August 31, can make that surplus even bigger and put us in an even better position as the new season begins! (hint, hint)

I make that pitch because New Line needs to replace that funding we lost. So we need to step up our fundraising efforts, and we hope all our supporters and fans will help us with these increased efforts. Ticket sales cover only about 40-45% of our budget. The rest is grants and donations. (Here's a post of mine that explains why nonprofits work this way.)

You can make a donation right now by clicking here. You're welcome.

And let me make a pitch to my readers who don't live in St. Louis about why you should still support New Line. For much of our history, New Line has been the only company in the country producing only alternative musical theatre. Today, we're thrilled that small companies around the country now frequently do the kind of work New Line does. But New Line is still unique in our ability to bring back to life shows that were ill-served and left for dead in New York, and to bring national attention to weird, lesser known, but brilliant shows, like Night of the Living Dead and Bukowsical.

Our art form, the American musical theatre, is in a new Golden Age, and New Line is one of the forces moving us forward. But don't just take my word for it...

Broadway composer-lyricist-bookwriter Kyle Jarrow says:

I love New Line Theatre. Not just because they did a great production of one of my plays -- not just because Scott Miller is one of the most thoughtful, passionate and engaged artistic directors I’ve ever interacted with -- but because New Line Theatre is saving the Musical. The musical is one of the most iconic American popular art forms. And yet, it’s struggling to stay relevant. As I see it, this is the result of a number of factors: ticket prices rising, the average age of theatergoers rising, as well as the commercial pressures that bring more and more unnecessary film adaptations to Broadway. For the next generation of audience, for whom theater is competing with film and television and video game systems, it’s not surprising that musicals often don’t feel like a very good investment of time and money.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. A great piece of musical theater can have incredible power. Music has the ability to drill straight into our emotional cores, to elevate drama in a profound way. New Line Theatre understands this. From my discussions with Scott, it’s clear that his company approaches musicals as drama -- committed to digging deep to excavate the best in the works his company chooses to produce. In every production, they work to prove why the musical form is important. They demonstrate why this form deserves to live on, and why it deserves to evolve with the times.

I don’t know of any other theater that does the kind of programming that New Line does. They take chances on new, cutting-edge works. They revisit quality shows that flopped on Broadway but deserve another look. And they do game-changing reinterpretations of classics. It’s a varied, exciting mission, and I’m honored to have been included in it. I very much hope to be again. New Line deserves your fullest support. What they’re doing is truly important.

Broadway composer-lyricist Amanda Green says:

I have had the honor and pleasure of having two of my shows produced at New Line Theater: High Fidelity (twice!) and Hands on a Hardbody.

New Line was the first theater to produce High Fidelity after its brief run on Broadway. I went with trepidation. I came away floored by the intelligence, scrappy fun, big heart, talent of the actors and acumen of the production. It was a reclaiming to me of the show I wrote and loved, produced in the right spirit. Led by Scott Miller, New Line proves you can do a lot with a little. In a way, this production was more satisfyingly right to me than the Broadway production – and got to the heart and humor of the story.

I knew as soon as I walked into New Line’s production of Hands on a Hardbody in 2015, that once again, Scott ‘got’ the material and it was in excellent hands. Entertaining, funny, deeply moving, performed in an intimate space, with a supremely talented cast. Scott’s masterful understanding of the show, and ability to draw the audience in, made for another transformative experience.

I know I’m not alone in being a Broadway professional who holds New Line Theater in high regard: Ann Harada (Avenue Q), Stephen Sondheim (!) and a host of others count themselves vocal fans and supporters.

I am not only a grateful author, I am a donor to New Line Theater. I believe in Scott Miller’s vision, in the talent, ability, and dedication of this community of actors, designers and audience members he has created. This is what theater is all about: bringing bold new work, undiscovered overlooked work to the community – with intelligence passion and heart Transforming both those who produce it and their audience..

New Line Theater deserves to have a long healthy life in St. Louis.

Broadway producer Jennifer Ashley Tepper (author of the Untold Stories of Broadway series), says, “New Line Theatre is an essential maker of musicals. Their work over the years in bringing worthwhile, lesser known shows to life for the St. Louis community is commendable. I recently saw New Line's production of Yeast Nation and was wholly impressed by the top-notch work of every artist involved. New Line has made it a priority to present challenging, thought-provoking musicals rather than prioritizing shows that happened to be the biggest commercial hits. In that, they are unique among theatre companies. Their integrity and their follow-through over many seasons of great work are extraordinary.”

Broadway actor Ann Harada says, "Their success proves that there's an audience for musicals that might be just a little bit outside the mainstream. Even though everything in life is only for now, I hope these guys are now and forever."

John Waters -- yes, that John Waters -- called us “the coolest theatre in town.” He says, "New Line Theatre can make it work. They know how to make a show biz dollar holler. St. Louis, you're lucky to have this gang. Theatre-goers, put your money where you mouth is!"

American Theatre magazine wrote, in a glowing profile of New Line, "There are edgier theatre companies in the U.S., but it would be hard to find a musicals-only company with programming as consistently provocative or as reluctant to proffer theatrical comfort food. . . But by staging contemporary musicals of wildly varying styles and pedigrees, with attention to detail but minus needless frills in an intimate setting, and by advocating for them tirelessly, even quixotically, Miller is, in his quietly ornery Midwestern way, advancing and reifying the American musical-theatre form as it has come kicking and screaming into the 21st century."

Our own Riverfront Times did a wonderful profile of New Line, writing, "New Line has won a national reputation not just for launching new productions, but for saving shows that have been savaged on Broadway."

We New Liners have been ridiculously blessed over the years to have the kind of support we enjoy from our community. My friends running theatres in other cities are very jealous. But we have to do better in our fundraising efforts to keep our company healthy, and we hope you'll all help us. Think about making a donation before the end of August -- it would help us immensely.

And don't forget, season tickets are still on sale through Sept. 3. You don't want to miss this season -- The Zombies of Penzance, La Cage aux Folles, and Be More Chill...!

Thank you, St. Louis, for being such an amazing place to make cool musical theatre!

Long Live the Musical!
Scott