Power-contralto Eden Espinosa strives mightily to keep Lempicka – an overstuffed, formulaic musical – in forward motion, to mixed effect. Despite the evident willingness of co-creators Carson Kreitzer and Matt Gould to play fast and loose with history, the show plugs along like a Bugatti (an emblematic subject of the Polish-born painter) in need of a lube job.
Espinosa portrays painter Tamara de Lempicka (1898-1980) at various stages in her life and career, in a scrambled timeline starting with the bitter reflections of an elderly, one-time art star seated on a park bench, daubing dejectedly. “Plane, lines, form,” she mutters, “plane, color, light…” (Kreitzer likes employing lists as lyrics). “Circling the drain, in Hollywood,” Lempicka laments. Cue the swirling dissolve, or the stage equivalent thereof.
Flashback – unnecessarily far back – to a dewy bridal scene in 1916, when Lempicka married Tadeusz Lempicki, a socially prominent Polish lawyer. The scene is gratuitous and saccharine, but at least serves to introduce Andrew Samonsky’s silky, seemingly effortless tenor.
[Read David Finkle’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
The newlyweds’ idyll is short-lived. For those in the audience unschooled in 20th-century history, we’re given hints of trouble to come via projections (designed by Peter Nigrini). Russia is in violent flux. As a member of the hitherto elite, Tadeusz is jailed and Tamara bargains with a commandant (George Abud) for his release.
The historical account suggests that this was a relatively civilized exchange – if sexual favors rendered under duress can be categorized thus – but the musical goes all out in depicting a hellish descent into brutal debauchery. Abud, in this and subsequent scenes in which he plays assorted roles, goes all in, jacked up and shamelessly spotlight-grabbing.
Wouldn’t adequate lighting be a sine qua non for painters? Once the couple flees to Paris (set designer Riccardo Hernández works in Eiffel-esque girders as markers), the atmosphere – effective chiaroscuro by lighting designer Bradley King – is mostly cavelike, nocturnal.
Abruptly, with little by way of a segue, we’re seeing a gutter-flower – resplendent Amber Iman – straddling a skeletal Bugatti-chassis and wowing a crowd with a cri de coeur: “Don’t Bet Your Heart.” This is the prostitute Rafaela, based on a real-life muse – and presumed lover – of Lempicka’s. Rafaela will be back (she and Tamara spend a lot of time in bed, thrashing out their relationship), but this is Iman’s shining moment, worth the overall tedium of admission.
Also notable is Natalie Joy Johnson as Suzy Solidor, founder of the famed lesbian club La Vie Parisienne (here redubbed Le Monocle). Initially blending into the corps (unremarkable choreography by Raja Feather Kelly), Johnson gradually acquires a distinctive persona and cheerleads a rousing ensemble number, “Women,” stylishly costumed by Paloma Young in sexy-modernist monochrome.
Transforming Lempicka’s appearance through six decades proves a challenge, and the platinum wig provided by Leah I. Loukas is a disaster: it’s an immutable, muffling casque. (Even marcelled waves tend to get mussed in bed.)
If you spend the first two hours wondering why Beth Leavel (a Tony Winner for The Drowsy Chaperone) is so grievously underused, wait for it. Playing the Baroness (a patron), Leavel, not the marathoning Espinosa, gets the eleven-o’clock number, as a moribund wife graciously passing along the torch. The gist: “Take my husband – please.”
Is the scene unapologetically sentimental? You bet – as is the entire project, a garbled paean to an ambitious woman who, under duress and with a healthy helping of ego, carved her own path. Lempicka deserves – deserved – better.
Lempicka opened April 14, 2024, at the Longacre Theatre. Tickets and information: lempickamusical.com
