Good morning, and welcome to Broadway News’ Broadway Review by Brittani Samuel — our overview of reactions, recommendations and information tied to last night’s Broadway opening of “Sunset Boulevard.”
RUNDOWN
There is a phenomenon called frisson — a cellular response akin to goosebumps, triggered by great art. I nearly forgot about it until I took a trip to “Sunset Boulevard.” Director Jamie Lloyd’s revival of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical traps us in a relentless state of frisson for its two and a half hours. Lloyd’s stark and atmospheric strip-down of the musical — in which he abandons traditional sets for the industrial beams of the St. James Theatre, costumes actors in pools of black and pops of white (scenic and costume design by Soutra Gilmour) and blankets the stage in a foggy haze — is a brilliant interpretation of the “ruthless” and “lethal” La La Land that chews up and spits out Hollywood dreamers. The original story remains the same: The once-great silent film actor Norma Desmond (Nicole Scherzinger) seeks to reclaim her status as the greatest star of all. But what’s different, aside from the bleached aesthetics, is Norma’s power. In Scherzinger’s hands, she is not a pawn of the industry nor a subject solely of her powerful male directors’ making. Norma is Geppetto pulling the strings of those around her and enveloping them into her fractured psyche. Other characters sing about Norma’s delusions, but with every one of Scherzinger’s growls, we believe not just in Norma’s desperation, but her belonging under those bright lights.
Lloyd keeps Norma onstage for the majority of the show, even in scenes that don’t involve her. Why? Because, in reality, they all involve her. No one is allowed to barter, plot or fall in love without her looming presence. Some of that hovering is enhanced by a screen delivering live feeds from cameras, sweeping across, behind and — in one truly thrilling sequence — outside of the theater. On those screens, Lloyd (in collaboration with video designers and cinematographers Nathan Amzi and Joe Ransom) masterfully smashes together iconic features of silent pictures — black-and-white film stock, eager close-ups, histrionic facial expressions — with the actual bodies moving about onstage (choreography by Fabian Aloise). It’s a symbiotic hybridization of the two forms, proving technology’s ability to enhance the vibrancy of live theater rather than flatten it.
