Considering Pete Townsend’s willingness to water down the original story and score of The Who’s 1969 double LP Tommy (and its subsequent film version in 1975, starring Roger Daltrey and Ann-Margret) for its 1993 Broadway incarnation, one would imagine that today the deaf, dumb and blind lead character would find release in the uninhibited flailing of a Wii Fit, rather than a pinball machine. Surely the comforting, health-inducing Wii would be more appropriate to the neutered stage version than pinball, a game that conjures forth visions of smoky arcades and teenage rebellion.
The original album (and to an even greater extent, the movie) was a vicious howl against normalcy and complacency. Witness to a murder as a child and urged by his mother to keep quiet, Tommy retreats so fully into himself that he’s virtually catatonic. Taken advantage of by a pedophile uncle and a cruel cousin, Tommy eventually shows an unexpected aptitude for pinball, in the process becoming a Christ-like figure—until he orders his followers to deafen and blind themselves. But even 20-odd years later, Broadway wasn’t ready for such a blistering, dark rock opera, and Townsend and co-writer Des McAnuff adapted the story to turn Tommy into someone yearning to be normal, leading to a spectacularly unlikely happy ending being tacked on to a truly hallucinatory story.
Not that any of the actors in The Gallery Players’ production give any evidence of their characters’ sometimes-contradictory actions, instead seeming thrilled at the chance to roar out rock songs at full volume. The show’s best moments still come courtesy of the set pieces, the songs that do little for the plot but provide talented singers with moments to own the stage—particularly Nathan Brisby’s very funny “Tommy’s Holiday Camp” and, supremely, Marcie Henderson’s performance as The Gypsy, a hooker who threatens to cure Tommy with sex and drugs while shrieking “Acid Queen.” And Anna Lise Jensen manages to break through the confines of Tommy’s mother, a woman so busy trying to help her son that she has little time to mesmerize the audience by singing a frightening “Break the Mirror” before freeing Tommy from his self-imposed inner exile.
But while the stage show differs greatly from the film, Brett Travis still sports Daltrey’s hideous hair as Tommy. His dank blond curls look as if various forms of insect life call them home, making it surprisingly difficult to look at him. Vocally, Travis is a perfect example of the varying skill levels of the cast. Brash and confident on Tommy’s epiphany-in-song “I’m Free,” Travis runs out of breath before the end of a phrase or strains to reach a note on other songs, difficulties that most of the cast fall prey to at one time or another.
Nor have any of them been done any favors by the erratic sound system (hopefully the tech problems have been sorted out since opening night). During the show I saw, performers frequently overpowered their microphones (especially Henderson, whose every note is a trumpet blast), or they opened their mouths to find that they had no amplification. But the rest of the design team has done a remarkable job of making this sometimes unwieldy show fit in The Gallery Players’ small space. Set designer Michael P. Kramer and projection designer Ron Amato deserve a great deal of credit for keeping the plot moving swiftly, without the attention-lessening scene changes that have afflicted so many Broadway shows this season. Considering the amount of talent involved in this production, it’s a shame that it wasn’t in the service of a better show.
> The Who’s Tommy
Through May 24. The Gallery Players, 199 14th St. (betw. 4th & 5th Aves.), Brooklyn, 212-352-3101; times vary, $18.
The original album (and to an even greater extent, the movie) was a vicious howl against normalcy and complacency. Witness to a murder as a child and urged by his mother to keep quiet, Tommy retreats so fully into himself that he’s virtually catatonic. Taken advantage of by a pedophile uncle and a cruel cousin, Tommy eventually shows an unexpected aptitude for pinball, in the process becoming a Christ-like figure—until he orders his followers to deafen and blind themselves. But even 20-odd years later, Broadway wasn’t ready for such a blistering, dark rock opera, and Townsend and co-writer Des McAnuff adapted the story to turn Tommy into someone yearning to be normal, leading to a spectacularly unlikely happy ending being tacked on to a truly hallucinatory story.
Not that any of the actors in The Gallery Players’ production give any evidence of their characters’ sometimes-contradictory actions, instead seeming thrilled at the chance to roar out rock songs at full volume. The show’s best moments still come courtesy of the set pieces, the songs that do little for the plot but provide talented singers with moments to own the stage—particularly Nathan Brisby’s very funny “Tommy’s Holiday Camp” and, supremely, Marcie Henderson’s performance as The Gypsy, a hooker who threatens to cure Tommy with sex and drugs while shrieking “Acid Queen.” And Anna Lise Jensen manages to break through the confines of Tommy’s mother, a woman so busy trying to help her son that she has little time to mesmerize the audience by singing a frightening “Break the Mirror” before freeing Tommy from his self-imposed inner exile.
But while the stage show differs greatly from the film, Brett Travis still sports Daltrey’s hideous hair as Tommy. His dank blond curls look as if various forms of insect life call them home, making it surprisingly difficult to look at him. Vocally, Travis is a perfect example of the varying skill levels of the cast. Brash and confident on Tommy’s epiphany-in-song “I’m Free,” Travis runs out of breath before the end of a phrase or strains to reach a note on other songs, difficulties that most of the cast fall prey to at one time or another.
Nor have any of them been done any favors by the erratic sound system (hopefully the tech problems have been sorted out since opening night). During the show I saw, performers frequently overpowered their microphones (especially Henderson, whose every note is a trumpet blast), or they opened their mouths to find that they had no amplification. But the rest of the design team has done a remarkable job of making this sometimes unwieldy show fit in The Gallery Players’ small space. Set designer Michael P. Kramer and projection designer Ron Amato deserve a great deal of credit for keeping the plot moving swiftly, without the attention-lessening scene changes that have afflicted so many Broadway shows this season. Considering the amount of talent involved in this production, it’s a shame that it wasn’t in the service of a better show.
> The Who’s Tommy
Through May 24. The Gallery Players, 199 14th St. (betw. 4th & 5th Aves.), Brooklyn, 212-352-3101; times vary, $18.
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