The Making of a Musical: Part V
by John Kenrick
(Copyright 2000, Revised 2020)
Tryouts
Up until the 1970s, almost all new musicals were taken on tour to work out any kinks before opening on Broadway. Just how much fun is it to take a new musical out on the road? A writer (sources differ as to who) once quipped that the worst he could wish on Hitler was that he be stuck out of town, working on the tryout of a new musical.
Its amazing how many producers have ignored disapproval on the road. In 1944, Alfred Bloomingdale (owner of the famed NYC department store) was producing the musical Allah Be Praised, which tried out in Philadelphia. He called in writer Cy Howard (some sources say it was playwright George S. Kaufman) who urged him to "close the show and keep the store open nights." Refusing to listen, Bloomingdale brought the show to Broadway, where it closed after 20 performances.
The original production of No, No Nanette toured for nearly two years, changing most of the score and libretto before it finally came to New York. As a rule, pre-Broadway tours last for no more than four to six weeks. Favorite tryout cities have included New Haven, Boston, Philadelphia, Atlantic City and Baltimore. Today, any regional company with a properly equipped theater may become a tryout location.
Tryouts often involve extensive re-writes and revisions. After the authors sit up all night re-writing scenes and songs, the cast rehearses the changes and add them as soon as possible. This frequently entails rehearsing the new material in the morning, performing the old version at a matinee, and debuting the new material that evening. When Call Me Madam was previewing in Boston, the authors kept re-writing until it got on leading lady Ethel Merman's nerves. As she later told it
They never stopped trying to add a joke, tidy up an exit, improve a punch line. I went along with the tinkering until the Thursday before our New York opening, when the show was supposed to be frozen -- meaning no more changes. Still they continued making a change here and there until I faced them down, saying, "Boys, as of right now, I am Miss Birdseye of 1950. I am frozen. Not a comma!"
Merman An Autobiography (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1978), p. 164.
In the "good old days," a musical followed up its tryout tour by playing one or two previews in New York (for technical purposes) before all the critics attended the official opening night. For a hilarious, and only slightly exaggerated glimpse at what the traditional tryout process could be like, see the classic MGM musical The Bandwagon (1953). Writers Betty Comden and Adolph Green based that film on their actual experiences with egotistical directors, frazzled stars, sets that refused to work and investors who slithered into the night at the first sign of trouble.
Previews
Since the 1970s, it has been too costly for most musicals to tour before opening in New York. Some shows now start with full-scale productions at one or more regional theatres. Other producers opt for four to six weeks of Broadway previews. Up to the early 1980s, tickets to previews were discounted to attract adventurous theater goers. But rising costs and sheer greed led producers to charge full price -- a practice that has unfortunately remained the norm.
The downside of Broadway previews is that a new production is subjected to the merciless scrutiny of New York's theatrical community. Many important musicals (Merrily We Roll Along, Legs Diamond, Carrie) were so roundly ripped apart by preview word-of-mouth that they were doomed to failure. Since the appearance of the internet and social media, it is possible for New York's theatre buffs to share intimate details of every preview. After critics dismissed Jekyll and Hyde, fans of the show quickly organized via the web, helping to keep the show alive. When a respiratory infection forced Bernadette Peters to miss several previews of Gypsy (2003), disgruntled fans had the word out on the web before newspapers picked up the story.
Some shows have tried to extend previews endlessly in hopes of avoiding the critics. Beatlemania (1977) postponed its opening repeatedly for several months, playing to packed houses. Thanks to strong word of mouth, it then survived bad reviews and ran for several years. Others that tried to avoid the critics were not nearly as lucky. Sarava (1979) cancelled its opening three times, but even an amazingly aggressive ad campaign could not keep it open for more than 149 performances. Merlin (1983) tried the same tactic, but critics finally saw it and tore it apart, forcing it to fold after 199 performances at a cost of millions.
New musicals usually undergo revision during previews. Songs, scenes and bits of business that seemed fabulous during rehearsals are often scrapped. Now and then, a performer is replaced or a role is cut altogether. New songs and scenes may be added, but this is an expensive proposition. When Legs Diamond added a new opening number part way through previews, the orchestrations and extra rehearsal time cost over ten of thousand dollars. Although the new opener ("When I Get My Name in Lights") was a success, it was not enough to save an otherwise ill-conceived show.
Previews are also the time when technical problems must be resolved. The massive turntable that kept Les Miserables flowing froze during previews, and the musical version of Shogun (yup, there was one) had critics in the audience when a runaway set literally knocked the lead actor out cold. The performance had to be stopped, and the critics returned a few weeks later. Their reviews were so scathing that it hardly seemed worth the wait. An early preview of Titanic had to be halted when the ship refused to sink on cue, but the glitch was resolved and the musical went on to become a Tony-winning triumph.
Eventually, a Broadway musical reaches that culminating moment the opening night. But not all openings are created equal.