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March of the Falsettos is the sequel to William Finn's In
Trousers, which originated at Playwrights Horizons and was
recently revived by the Second Stage. Whereas In Trousers was
somewhat reluctant to announce itself as a musical about a
married man who discovers he's gay and bids goodbye to the
women in his life, Falsettos directly confronts the
emotional issues involved by bringing on all the concerned
parties: our hero Marvin, his wife, his son, his lover, and
his shrink. The result is a fast-paced, strongly Sondheimian
"soap operetta" whose only peer among current
musicals is Marry Me a Little, another modest,
intermissionless show that tells its story through song
instead of dialogue.
Falsettos has its faults, but they exist on a plane
where you would never think of discussing such mindless
hackwork as Woman of the Year or Annie. Finn's
Marvin musicals are more than mere entertainment, more that
pleasant distractions; they aim to engage the intellect with
intricately crafted music and a libretto that addresses real
life instead of make-believe, that treats romance
realistically and unembarrassedly rather than sweetening and
simplifying it for consumption by imbeciles. The 20 songs that
make up Falsettos aren't conventional
verse-chorus-verse compositions but subtle conversational
numbers through-composed, beautifully interwoven and
gorgeously arranged for a lavish (by OOB standards)
seven-piece orchestra. Like any work that attempts to tread
new ground, it doesn't imprint itself on the brain at first
hearing; but what the score lacks in variation and hummable
tunes, it makes up in the moment-by-moment unexpectedness that
defines good theater.
Almost everything about the undertaking is decidedly brave.
Finn assembles five credible, startlingly unstereotyped
characters: a woman who chooses to be a full-time homemaker
yet is not presented as dull nor ridiculed for her choice; a
kid who is wise beyond his years but still has a child's
needs; a shrink who oozes both jargon and compassion; a
gay male couple who meet each other as equals and exhibit none
of the mannerisms familiar to stage faggots. The author then
has them sing with treacherous relentlessness about love and
psychology without becoming boring or predictable and without
lapsing into what prudes call "special pleading."
There are no blanket conclusions such as "marriage
sucks" or "gay relationships are superior";
Marvin is clearly a self-centered, confused prick whether he's
with a man or a woman. And in the most poignant song, Marvin's
ex-wife and shrink (who have rather contrivedly fallen in love
and decided to marry) extol the pleasures of "Making a
Home" while Marvin's lover Whizzer packs sadly to leave
-- an untrendy but truthful acknowledgement that it's
attractively easy to play society's traditional sex roles and
depressingly tough, if not futile, to attempt redefining them.
The characters' cartoony humor and emotional verisimilitude
are so refreshing that it's disappointing when a song trails
off into vagueness or triteness, as on Whizzer's solo
"The Games I Play" and "Trina's Song";
more character development wouldn't hurt. The pay's
psychoanalytic orientation produces an occasional glut of
words, which leads to an overreliance on sub-melodic themes
rather than real tunes. Playwrights Horizons' bare-bones
production obviously -- and wisely -- poured its money into
terrific musicians and singers (unmiked!). Although James
Lapine has done a wizardly job of staging a demanding show,
his direction falters whenever a number requires production
values, such as "March of the Falsettos" or
"Jason's Therapy." Still, these are tiny quibbles. Falsettos
exemplifies the kind of "pocket musicals" Stephen
Sondheim used to dream about. I wish there were 10 composers
writing two of these a year, but obviously the talent is much
more rare; Finn seems to be the only one doing it, and his
achievements thus far rank him among the most exciting (never
mind most promising) composers in the musical theater.
The title song, incidentally, pinpoints what March of the
Falsettos is really about. The four men, wearing
see-through business suits over their street clothes, clomp
around trilling in high voices a song about how it takes a
real man to do what they're doing. The march of the falsettos
is a metaphor for daring to expose -- at the risk of seeming
castrated or effeminate or in some way less than manly -- the
little-boy emotions lurking beneath the sturdy veneer of Man.
What I most admire about Finn's work is how he narrowly avoids
sentimentality and corniness in his earnest insistence on
exploring men's feelings, whether romantic, (homo)sexual or --
as in the case of Falsettos' surprisingly tender finale
-- parental.
Soho News, April 15, 1981
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