The Age of Chivalry may not be dead, but it's under attack in the new national touring production of the Broadway musical "Camelot."
Based on "The Once and Future King," the modern classic by T.H. White, the 1960 Broadway musical "Camelot" was created by Alan Jay Lerner (book) and Frederic Loewe (music). Two themes play out in their adaptation: Arthur's dream of a civilized world where might serves right, and an ill-fated love triangle between Arthur, his wife Guenevere and his most trusted knight, Sir Lancelot.
Supposedly, Lerner's children wanted to improve the original "Camelot" by revising the book and streamlining the action. They promised a grittier production that was darker, sexier and shorter. Well, it is shorter. And it is grittier - at least the costumes are, circa Renaissance. However, the touring production fails to deliver the sex and darkness. Between musical numbers, this revival often plods along, negating the romance, excitement and magic we've come to expect when transported back to the mythical court of King Arthur.
The plot of "Camelot" unfolds like an extended flashback. Arthur, on the brink of a mighty battle, wonders how he blundered into this moment. Urged by his teacher, the wizard Merlin, Arthur thinks back to the day he first met his future bride Guene-vere. All goes well in their arranged marriage until the bold and egotistical French knight Lancelot shows up at court to join the Round Table. Guenevere takes an instant dislike to him, but her feelings soon evolve into love. When Lancelot responds, the die is cast. Arthur's idealistic dreams turn to rubble, destroyed by betrayal, intrigue and treason. All that remains is the faintest glimmer of hope.
As directed by Glenn Ca-sale, there are wonderful musical moments in this production. Lerner's lush music goes straight to the heart, but the show is besieged by its clunky pace, shoddy scenery, "authentic" costumes and unimaginative choreography. The most exciting events happen offstage, like the swordfight between Lancelot and Arthur, knightly challenges and Guenevere's impending execution and last-minute rescue.
Both Richard Burton and Richard Harris played Arthur to great acclaim. Alas, that cannot be said of Michael York, though his performance is not as forgettable as Robert Goulet's stint as Arthur. Bottom line, despite his innate elegance and likeability, York seems too old for the role. Plus his interpretation seems a little fey for a King who earned his reputation as a great warrior before he launched his "might for right" crusade. York often lacks the vocal power and resonance needed to project Arthur's kingly dialogue and sustain his songs. His best musical moment comes during the duet with Guenevere, "What Do the Simple Folk Do?"
As the Queen, Rachel York (no relation) exudes sassy stage chutzpah, her beautiful singing voice reminiscent of Broadway's original Guenevere, Julie An-drews. York shines on the playful "Where are the Simple Joys of Maidenhood," grows tender on "Before I Gaze at You" and merrily romps through the show's only big production number, "The Lusty Month of May," although the latter suffers from Dan Mojica's uninspired choreography - it should be much naughtier. Better known for her comedic roles in musical theater, York may not be the quintessential Guenevere, but she's one of three reasons to attend this production.
The second is Lerner and Loewe's lovely score. And the third is James Barbour's voice. As long as he's singing, Barbour makes a magnificent Lancelot. His rich baritone soars majestically through the theater, especially on one of Broadway's most romantic anthems, "If Ever I Would Leave You." But though he tickles the funny bone with his narcissist purity in "C'est Moi," Barbour's acting leaves much to be desired. When it comes to matters of the heart, his ardor flat-lines. Let's just say that the chemistry between Gwen and Lance won't leave you breathless.
As Arthur's bastard son Mor-dred, Shannon Warne personifies slimy and underhanded when he shows up at court, hoping to destroy Arthur's visionary Round Table. While Eric Anderson makes Merlin into a younger and more lascivious wizard, Time Winters offers comic relief as Pellinore, a bumbling old knight chasing after a questing beast. And speaking of Pelly, where is his usual canine companion - a devoted sheepdog?
Songs have been shifted or deleted for this new "improved" version of "Camelot." "If Ever I Would Leave You" comes later in Act Two. Although we don't miss the knights' rendition of "Fie on Goodness," Guenevere's lyrical lament, "I Loved You Once in Silence," has been omitted, and the endearing "What Do the Simple Folk Do?" has been trimmed to two verses.
OK, we know that life was earthy and grimy way back when, but a musical is not a documentary. With the exception of Guenevere's lush velvet gowns, Arthur's royal regalia and Lancelot's silver armor, Marcy Froehlich's period costumes are lackluster; dressed in their motley duds, Camelot's finest would be challenged to find a fair maiden willing to be rescued. And Merlin and Pellinore's hair and beards could have easily been styled by a hairdresser who moonlights as a jeweler on New York City's 47th Street.
John Iacovelli's artificial-looking set design does little to enhance this production. Though Guenevere's boudoir reeks of elegance, the enchanted forest looks as if it was fashioned out of plastic plants from Wal-Mart.
But for devoted "Camelot" fans (including this critic), the biggest letdown of the touring revival comes at show's end. Just before the battle, Arthur usually discovers a very young stowaway who wants to become a knight when he grows up. The tour's revisers unwisely decided to have this role played by a grown man pretending to be a teenager. That's grounds for a joust, for it undermines those last exquisite words of hope, spoken after Arthur commands the boy to run behind the lines so he will live to tell to tell future generations the tale of a fleeting wisp of glory once called "Camelot."
"Man's fate is less than a drop in the great blue motion of the sunlit sea," Arthur joyfully proclaims to Pellinore, "but it seems some of the drops sparkle...." But not often enough in this production.
'CAMELOT'
5th Avenue Theatre
Through Sunday, April 8
Tickets: $20-$73, 625-1900
[[In-content Ad]]
