In my youth, I recall going with my parents to the Jewish Y in New Jersey to an annual entertainment called “Bits of Hits.” A wonderfully talented company of non-professionals would perform mostly well-known songs and even some dances from both past and current hit shows on Broadway. There was some scenery and a few props and an impressive orchestra in the pit that was also comprised of local musicians. The well-directed show was fast, often funny and always a joyful valentine to the Broadway shows that so many of us either had seen or heard about. There was no narrative thread, only a program that would tell us the name of the song and the show it was from. I’m not even sure if individual performers were credited except as part a general cast listing. Oh, it was a joy from start to finish. So why am I referring to those fondly remembered shows when I’m supposed to be reviewing a real Broadway show, Prince of Broadway, a revue that has something like a narrative thread but is really mostly threadbare—that is, when it comes to telling us anything interesting about the remarkably talented producer-director Harold “Hal” Prince who is justly lauded and famed for guiding the works of Stephen Sondheim, Adler & Ross, Bock & Harnick, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Kander & Ebb and others to success. Seven decades of either producing and/or directing shows is an achievement worthy of an homage. But unlike recreating danced highlights from the canon of a choreographer as was the case in 1989 with Jerome Robbins’ Broadway, and numbers that were able to stand alone and apart from their show’s plots, the musical numbers as presented in Prince of Broadway actually manage to do something very strange and often unsettling. In almost every instance, they do not reflect the brilliance of their source. Not helping was the very thin sound of the orchestra, almost always failing to reflect the brilliance of the original scores. The result here is that of a budget-constrained TV special on PBS, or, more disheartening, an evening in the casino in a borscht-belt hotel. This is not to say that the cast of nine very talented performers, who takes quick turns portraying Prince between segments written in a not very interesting way by David Thompson, are not putting their respective talents into every number, although the results range from the amiable to the on-one-occasion lamentable. While each performer can be applauded for making commendable contributions to this revue, not one makes a case for why we don’t need to need to look back to the original show and its stars. Can we really try to forget that Prince created a special magic in shows such as She Loves Me, Follies, A Little Night Music, Fiddler on the Roof, Cabaret, Company, West Side Story, Sweeney Todd, and The Phantom of the Opera, and that magic was in part due to his guidance and the unforgettable stars that brought his shows to life? I’m choosing not to list all the immortals that will come to mind as you watch this revue in which various numbers from 17 musicals will likely baffle those not in the know and, at their best, bemuse those in the know. As directed by Prince with co-direction by choreographer Susan Stroman, the revue is paced well. That is except for the over-long, over-intense newly conceived danced solo by an otherwise superb Tony Yazbeck in “The Right Girl” from Follies. Some lovely singing is done by Yazbeck and Kale Ann Voorhees from West Side Story and Brandon Uranowitz and Bryonha Marie Parham from She Loves Me. The Follies medley is almost a joke, as is Chuck Cooper’s “If I Were a Rich Man” from Fiddler. Not surprised, however, to see Karen Ziemba take possession of Fraulein Schneider in “So What” from Cabaret, but the rest of the cabaret cavorting is cheesy if not, as in the case of “If You Could See Her,” offensively out-of-context. Not a word from Janet Dacal’s Evita is understandable, while we relish every syllable when Ziemba makes “The Worst Pies in London” from Sweeney Todd. The show ends with a candle-lighted segment from The Phantom of the Opera giving Michael Xavier a chance to some octave leaping behind a mask. But Beowulf Boritt’s modest scenic designs and William Ivey Long’s beautiful costumes can’t mask a showcase that has little depth or definition, aspects that were supremely evident in every show that Prince ever directed.
