Susan Stroman's charming revival of Meredith Willson's classic tuner begs the question: Can they make them like they used to? The answer is a resounding yes; this one's as old-fashioned as they come, but nearly irresistible. Ace choreographer-director Stroman doesn't really bother to update the material (thankfully, there's no Jesus Christ Superstar-style boneheaded ideas here) -- an admirable choice lately, as many revivals of late dilute the impact of what make them work in the first place. Wonderfully performed with some dazzling set pieces, The Music Man falters a bit in its second act when the romantic angle is beefed up, but anyone who couldn't thoroughly enjoy this production is a potato, or worse.
For those unfamiliar with the story, the action is set in small-town America, circa 1912 (River City, Iowa, to be exact), where an over-confident, handsome swindler named Harold Hill (Craig Bierko, in a remarkable Broadway debut) shakes up the town's static lives, especially by way of the children in the community. He becomes the town's musical director despite not being able to play a note, and they begin to warm up to his savvy. But a librarian named Marian (Rebecca Luker) is on to him and has a few surprises of her own. Meanwhile, Harold must evade a word-mincing Mayor (Paul Benedict) and his diva wife (Ruth Williamson, an absolute delight), who is one of the more enthusiastic products of Harold's charms and musical delight.
This is no Wild Party (which plays right across the street); you will not see bare breasts or men smooching here. Hell, you're lucky to see an exposed knee in this one, but it is a pleasant reminder of one of the reasons musicals were invented. At its best, there is a sense of wonder at hand (something missing from the recent revival of The Rainmaker, which has a strikingly similar plot), and musically, the truly fine score lifts it into that outer realm that many of the characters dream about, and without being too sugary about it, makes goodness palpable. When the mechanics of the story begin to show up in act two, staging's urgency weakens, especially in intimate scenes between Harold and Marian. Their helplessly-in-love demeanor does not seem enhanced, and therefore, some of the romance is stifled. Even so, Bierko and the comely Luker give triumphant portrayals. Luker is well cast and handles her first big number, "Goodnight, My Someone," with grace and exhibits the kind of old-school elegance that is now a rarity. Bierko, a Broadway first-timer only previously seen in forgettable film roles, is simply stunning. Sexy, generously receptive and surprisingly polished, he gives you the impression he's been at this game for years. His resemblance at times to the late Robert Preston (who originated this role) is jarring, but Bierko makes this role all his own. His every appearance creates a feeling of joy, and you're as infected by his enchanting nature as the characters are.
Stroman could have found a stronger correlation between the then-and-now aspects of the musical to give it a more memorable sheen, but her helming can hardly be faulted, and her choreography, though at times redundant, is still delectable. And I'm not going to spoil it for you, but the caboose detail of this production is a gem and not to be missed. It is just one amenity that ensures you leave the Neil Simon Theater with a smile on your face, whether you like it or not.
