My thoughts on The Cher Show, a new musical that touts double-digit incarnations of the ultimate diva.
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SATURDAY NIGHT’S ALRIGHT FOR SEQUINS: Last weekend, my husband and I spent over two hours at the Oriental Theatre getting a steady stream of cross-decade glitz and glam to the face at what ended up being the final Chicago out-of-town tryout performance of the Broadway-bound new musical (with no actual new music), The Cher Show.
I’d pour out one of the concession stand’s signature Cher margaritas for all my homies who had tickets to the actual final performance on Sunday afternoon that was cancelled last-minute due to a set malfunction (apparently the beat doesn’t always go on), but what they missed was more of a wildly mixed bag than the next Les Miz.
Some parts were great, and some, well… just weren’t strong enough. (I can’t resist an opportunity for a bad pun.) So, here are my thoughts from the cheap seats in the back.
I BOW DOWN TO THE DIVA, BUT… Let’s start with the fact—yes, FACT—that Cher is fkcing amazing. I’ve been following the superstar since I was a kid and saw the first of her many ‘farewell’ tours, but I had no idea about so many parts of her life story until I saw the show. (See, the arts do educate, folks!)
The creators have chosen to tell this sprawling tale through the framework of a show-within-a-show tribute episode of a TV special sharing the same name as the musical that celebrates the diva’s life and career. Book writer Rick Elice (who also penned the mega-hit, Jersey Boys) clearly put in work—perhaps too much labor, though—in making this narrative angle interesting and impactful. But the conceit plays structural ping-pong with what is essentially a glimpse into Cher’s mind as the action occasionally and suddenly takes an internal turn as she recalls her life’s defining events, blurring the dividing line between the two approaches.
Such is the case in the first 10 minutes: A production assistant character runs on stage onto a TV-set-within-a-theater-set, frantically looking for the star in her current day incarnation (more on that in a minute). Cher enters, sassy and fabulous in her tardiness, and retreats to her dressing room to get ready for the big show as she swells with anxiety. Then—I swear—something to the effect of 25 ‘Cher’s’ emerge from closets within the multi-purpose set in a drag dream incarnate, each representing one of the many looks and lives within the diva’s epic journey.
(As this unfolded in front of me, I felt a deep need for a pitcher of bottomless mimosas, the powdery smell of too much cheap hairspray on a fake wig and all my ‘ladies’ gathered ‘round a brunch table, because the occasion called for every bit of it.)
‘Star,’ the modern day Cher (played by the always excellent Stephanie J. Block, who steps into fiercely iconic sequins for the second time after bursting onto the Broadway scene as Liza Minnelli in The Boy From Oz), seemingly picks two of these versions of herself from the bunch and they skip off into the next hour-and-forty-five of life-long musical reminiscence. The lucky ladies are ‘Babe’ (Micaela Diamond), the young, idealistic ‘The Beat Goes On’ version of Cher that marries and partners with Sonny Bono, and ‘Lady’ (embodied by Teal Wicks) who picks up where she leaves off as we transition from the ‘70s era and into the ‘80s.
THREE ‘CHER’S’ FOR THE PRICE OF ONE: These three ‘Cher’s’ continue to intermittently engage at major nexus points in the star’s life, literally and consistently bringing her inner dialogue to the audible forefront in moments that almost feel like group therapy sessions. Subtle it is not; basic, it certainly comes close to. But with Diamond and Wicks turning in only serviceable performances, it’s clearly a device concocted by Elice and director Jason Moore (who helmed the Tony-winning Avenue Q) to keep Block—and her powerhouse to-the-back-of-the-theater-and-out-to-the-sidewalk voice—an integral part of the show throughout instead of being the more narratively obvious opening/closing bookends to the story. And while I’m the first person to raise my hand for more of the bad ass Block, the tact breaks the action more than it heightens it, while importing a not-really-but-kinda schizophrenic overlay to the psyche of the woman we’re delving into pretty deeply over two full acts.
STELLAR SUPPORTING STARS: We learn early on that Cher started out as a back-up singer on some big hits (‘Da Do Run Run’ is one example), and her story is amply backed up by the show’s crackerjack supporting cast. Broadway vet Emily Skinner (of Side Show fame) plays Cher’s mother and confidante, Georgia Holt, with a grounded intelligence and insight, aging to fabulous effect throughout the decades. The always-reliable Broadway mainstay, Michael Berresse, bounces between three roles, including director Robert Altman—who cast Cher in her first acting role in a Broadway play that led to her movie stardom—and, most notably, the duh-vine flamboyant fashion designer, Bob Mackie (who gets a Costume Design credit). Where Skinner provides grounding, Berresse brings a breeze of light air, especially in a number that ends up being the equivalent of a rom-com fashion montage as multitudes of ‘Cher’s’ trot across the stage in his iconic bespoke designs for the star.
But it’s Jarrod Specter as Sonny Bono—so great in the Broadway production of Beautiful: The Carole King Musical—who does some massively heavy lifting without breaking a sweat. Physically and vocally inhabiting Bono’s distinctive style while riding the fine line of parody, Specter transmits the many sides of the man with full believability: lover, friend, charmer, cheater, ruthless businessman and ego maniac. Late in the evening, Block’s Cher delivers the eulogy at Sonny’s funeral in the show’s most emotionally affecting, all-too-short sequence, and I bought every word because of the expertly built rapport between Specter and all of the Cher incarnations.
THE MUSIC AND THE (POP CULTURE) MIRROR: No matter what I thought of the production overall, hearing 35 of Cher’s greatest hits isn’t a bad way to spend an evening. Though a few are used to strange effect—a slower, down tempo version of ‘Believe’ shows up a few times too many, and ‘Bang Bang’ gets an interpretation that bordered on uncomfortable—most of the jams hooked me and the rest of the crowd, and took us along for the ride.
The hits were a fitting soundtrack to some cool behind-the-glitter looks at the pop culture world Cher began to inhabit mid-career. Block’s scene with Berresse as Robert Altman, capturing her Broadway audition punctuated by a touching admission of a life-long struggle with dyslexia, brings entertainment fable to lovely life. Ditto her ascent to film stardom, as the show depicts Cher’s successes and failures with the Academy in an awards season-fueled sequence that culminates with her accepting the Best Actress Oscar for Moonstruck in that still-talked-about skin-revealing get-up with a headdress for days. There’s even passing, faux bitchy commentary on her slim chances of winning against co-star and friend, Meryl Streep, to add to the fun, amounting to catnip for pop culture watchers like us. (Equally as humorous was seeing the two real life actresses kiss on the red carpet at the Mamma Mia! sequel premiere just days after seeing the show. Meta much?!)
TO SUM IT UP: To paraphrase Cher herself in talking to Page Six after seeing an early preview of the show in June: it needs work. And, though I think it will do fine selling tickets on Broadway based on title name recognition alone, I also believe it would be well-served to skip the Great White Way and head straight to the Strip in Vegas, where a chunk of the show’s action takes place and is a setting that’s much more suited to a long, successful (read: critic-proof) run. If I could turn back time, I’d still choose to see the show, but take a beat before deciding to add it to your ticket hit list this busy Broadway season.