History relates that I Married an Angel was among Broadway’s most enchanting musical comedy hits of the 1930s.
The critics frothed over the 1938 production, typically scribbling raves such as “a winged wonderwork from the musical heavens of Rodgers and Hart.” Photographs reveal a gorgeous looking affair. The original company was headed by top-ranked artists, most notably Dennis King, Vivienne Segal, Walter Slezak, and making a stunning debut as the angel of the title, ballet dancer Vera Zorina, whose future husband, George Balanchine, choreographed the show.
But other than a lousy M-G-M film version starring Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy, and such Rodgers & Hart standards as the title number and “Spring Is Here,” the musical was soon otherwise forgotten. The so-called Golden Age of Broadway musicals began in the 1940s and, with only a few exceptions, the tuners that flourished before then were left in the past, never to be seen or heard again.
[Read Steven Suskin’s ★★★ review here.]
Fortunately, the New York City Center Encores! series came along some 25 years ago to provide concert versions of neglected musicals. Its latest revival, which opened Wednesday for a brief run, is I Married an Angel of heavenly Broadway memory.
Capturing again the lightning in a bottle that was a vintage Broadway musical is challenging, especially when a work, for all of its period charms, appears flimsy by modern-day standards.
Such is the case with I Married an Angel, but let’s substitute for flimsy the word gossamer.
Set in 1930s Budapest, the story is simple. Burned by love, Willy, a wealthy banker, declares that he will marry no one but an angel. And so the lovely Angel sails down from above. Willy is smitten. Off they go to Paris, where they wed and she loses her wings. Back home in Budapest, Angel’s all-too-angelic penchant for brutal honesty nearly ruins Willy’s business. Then Willy’s ultra-sophisticated sister, Countess Peggy, teaches Angel the art of deception and everyone lives happily ever after.
Season this wisecracking script with alternately vivacious and romantic songs by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart and then leave plenty of room for dancing, and that’s the show.
The most entirely satisfying component of this concert is the visuals. Designer Allen Moyer situates the onstage orchestra upon a pearly Art Moderne-style bandstand, above which glitters several crystal chandeliers. Shimmering drapes and alabaster columns assume many iridescent shades through Jeff Croiter’s lighting. It looks perfectly divine for an extremely light musical.
Beginning with its suave overture, musical director Rob Fisher and his orchestra do very nicely by Rodgers’ sprightly music, although the brass section hits a few curdled notes. The original Hans Spialek orchestrations, sleek with strings, boast an especially glistening quality. During the “Angel Without Wings” number for Angel and her heavenly chums, sound designer Marc Salzberg sneaks in an aural effect so that their singing sounds wonderfully ethereal.
As directed and choreographed by Joshua Bergasse, the performances tend to be spotty. That particular 1930s comedy style of snappy chitchat evidently does not come easily for some performers. Looking chic and singing agreeably Nikki M. James cannot achieve Countess Peggy’s urbane ease of manner. As Willy, Mark Evans certainly pleases as a well-tailored leading man of the era, and he boasts a clear, resilient voice. Yet often Evans seems merely flustered as Willy rather than showing anxiety over his bride’s beatific ways.
Ever a supple and lissome dancer, Sara Mearns sweetly and steadily portrays Angel with a wide-eyed naivety that mostly compensates for being not much of an actor.
Ann Harada gets very little do as an elderly dowager but late in the show, when a flock of angels materialize, she brings down the house by her perfect delivery of the line: “Am I dead?”
Injecting these proceedings with considerable energy is Hayley Podschun as a brash American visitor “dirty with charm,” whose snazzy rendition of the upbeat “How to Win Friends and Influence People” turns into a rousing tap number for the ensemble that she leads with Phillip Attmore. Podschun’s dynamic way with a song also helps to drive the second act’s dizzy “At the Roxy Music Hall” sequence of comical dances that culminates in a surreal tribute to Magritte.
Bergasse’s choreography is more effective in creating the show’s lively ‘30s period dances than during the balletic sequences, which swirl around prettily but never seem to get anywhere. Fortunately, he provides any number of humorous touches in his “Roxy” lampoons, including send-ups of The Rockettes and stein-clanking male operetta choruses.
Alejo Vietti, the costume designer, dresses everyone correctly and usually beautifully (such elegant chapeaux) in a tasteful array of colors. His several all-white ensembles devised for Angel flow as gracefully as she does.
Although the visual and musical sides of I Married an Angel are fairly blissful, the unsubstantial book needs sharper staging and performances than it gets here in order to make this legendary show fly as high as it might.
