For his revivals director Jamie Lloyd has a formula. When he takes one on, which he regularly does with great eagerness (most recently here: A Doll’s House, Cyrano de Bergerac, Betrayal), he presents it devoid of anything approximating a traditional set. His impulse is to stress the material, minus the (distracting?) enhancement that furnishings bring. He retains only the essentials. Perhaps for obvious reasons, he doesn’t eliminate lights and sound.
He’s done it again with the Andrew Lloyd Webber-Don Black-Christopher Hampton musical Sunset Boulevard, based, of course, on Billy Wilder’s 1950 film of the same name. Customers playing plenty for tickets, will find that this Sunset Blvd. lacks, among other glittering aspects, anything like a grand staircase, though it does feature Jack Knowles’ carefully concentrated lights and Adam Fisher’s imposing sound.
The result—which gloriously stars Nicole Scherzinger as fading silent-screen idol Norma Desmond—is unique. In my view, nothing quite like it has ever previously been seen on a Broadway stage or, recently, a West End stage. And whether that’s unadulterated praise remains a question. The immediate answer is weighted toward the positive, since this time waving his revival wand, Lloyd is not merely reducing the film and the musical to its basics but is after a larger point about making black-and-white films.
[Read Frank Scheck’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
On previous revivals, he had set-and-costumes designer Soutra Gilmour keep whatever cast is at work in black and white. He does so again here—all black—but this outing she’s pointedly remaining true to the black-and-white screen where, despite the actual color range, the wardrobe only appears black, white, and shades of gray. (For this Sunset Blvd. red eventually appears, but detailing when, where, and why amounts to a spoiler.)
This time Lloyd’s black is very deliberately commenting on the finished quality of movies. Once they’re wrapped and printed, that’s it. They’re frozen in time. Lloyd enlarges this irreversible truth by using constant onstage videoing to remind spectators that the actors are regularly, if not always, facing cameras—the images then seen on an upstage screen—as if they were filming. (Nathan Amzi and Joe Ransom are the busy-busy video and cinematography designers.)
At the end of Sunset Boulevard the movie, Gloria Swanson unforgettably tells C. B. DeMille she’s ready for her close-up. In Sunset Blvd. all the focal characters are repeatedly ready for their close-ups, so much so that when Norma outright says she’s ready for hers in the unforgettable finale, Wilder’s cathartic edge is slightly diminished.
Lloyd’s determination to demonstrate that Norma is giving a screen performance is primarily focused on Scherzinger. It’s as if her every expression, her every gesture is calculated. The impression is that at every performance—she’s already played it many times in London where she won an Olivier award—she plays it exactly as she has every previous performance and will every subsequent performance. The strategy is possibly most apparent in her interpretation of the beloved anthems “With One Look” and “As If We Never Said Goodbye.” Her attack on each note, her every movement is so precise, it’s as if this is, as with movies, the take meant for posterity.
The audience is watching her finished filmed performance. The night I attended, Scherzinger’s renditions, the very raising of her arms at the strategic measures, the extended climactic notes as she concluded “As If We Never Said Goodbye” triggered the desired theater reaction: a standing ovation. (Alan Williams is the music director.)
At all Lloyd’s demands of her, former Pussycat Doll Scherzinger is ready, willing, and able to comply. The singing is unrelentingly strong. That she’s too young to play the role isn’t a factor here. Lean with long black hair flowing and in a tight black mini dress, she’s asked only to present the unremitting Norma Desmond drive and ultimate madness. She presents it completely.
The tall Sunset Boulevard tale is, as always, narrated by down-at-heel, frustrated screenwriter Joe Gillis (Tom Francis, acquitting himself with rugged and properly trapped aplomb). Still gracing the brooding action are ubiquitous butler/former husband Max Von Mayerling (David Thaxton, stern and expressionless almost to the somber end) and young studio worker Betty Schaefer (Grace Hodgett Young, beautiful and nicely determined.) Lloyd and choreographer Fabian Aloise frequently bring on a hot ensemble to dance up a nervous storm whenever the dramaturgical weather warrants it.
Lyricists-bookwriters Black and Hampton have taken only some liberties with the original Wilder-Charles Brackett-D. M. Marshman Jr. script. They leave out, for two instances, Norma’s amusing Charlie Chaplin imitation and the former silent screen stars bridge game. They do hold on to crucial elements like the burial of Norma’s adored chimpanzee.
Incidentally, there is a second-act opener, through which Francis robustly intones the title number, while…well, while Joe takes a time-consuming walkabout. It’s videoed 100% live by camera operator Shayna McPherson. Just know it’s a gimmick and leave it at that.
Often during Sunset Blvd., Norma insists on informing Joe that in Hollywood “we gave the world new ways to dream.” It surely can be said that with his revivals, especially with this one, the estimable Jamie Lloyd attempts to give the theater world new ways to scheme. You go, guy.
Sunset Blvd. opened October 20, 2024 at the St. James Theatre. Tickets and information: sunsetblvdbroadway.com
