Good Night, Oscar – Goodman Theatre – March 20, 2022

Spoiler alert! In case you don’t know—I did—Sean Hayes was a musician before he was an actor or comedian, having studied piano performance in college, and working thereafter as a classical pianist. (It’s amazing the stuff you learn on the Internet when you have nothing else to do for two years.) He has musical chops.

What I didn’t know, but was glad to see, was how much time he must have spent studying all things Oscar Levant, so that he could emulate his tics and mannerisms as if they were his own. (After the performance I found and viewed on YouTube Levant’s final television appearance, as the mystery guest on What’s My Line, to confirm the accuracy of the depiction.)

Now, imagine Hayes playing Rhapsody in Blue while playing the quirky Levant at the height of his mental health issues and drug addiction. Chopsticks would be tough under those conditions.

This is the seventh Goodman show I’ve mentioned in my blog. Regulars may remember that I haven’t been too kind in regard to four of those prior productions. In my defense, they weren’t kind to me either. But this one had everything, including actual Levant insights like “There’s a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.”

The Music Man – The Goodman Theatre – July 7, 2019

I would rather see a Neil Simon play than one by Shakespeare, so it should come as no surprise that I smiled for two and a half hours while watching The Music Man (despite what I considered a rather drab performance by the leading man), just knowing, that at some point, the Wells Fargo Wagon would be coming down the street, to the roars of the audience, creating even more excitement than an Amazon delivery.

I didn’t find the play dated. To me, River City is like Brigadoon, a pastoral place, frozen in time, that seems uninviting if you’re a cynical New Yorker or an anvil salesman, like the ten-time Jeff-nominated, scene-stealing Matt Crowle, but, eventually, idyllic, if you’re Tommy Albright in Brigadoon, or Harold Hill, who realizes that there was nothing till there was Marian, and the beautiful singing voice of Monica West.

When Hill jumps off the train, it reminds me of the passenger, who definitely didn’t know the territory, in the Twilight Zone episode A Stop at Willoughby, a place around the bend, when he jumped into “sunlight and serenity.”

The Music Man features a wonderful group of townspeople that fittingly includes three of the actors I last saw auditioning for roles in Porchlight Music Theatre’s production of A Chorus Line in May. No solos for them this time, but Laura Savage and Adrienne Velasco-Storrs, along with Ayana Strutz (great name for a dancer), help light up the stage.

I don’t know if Meredith Wilson, through Professor Hill, introduced the “think method” of learning to play an instrument as a wink and a nod to the then incipient Suzuki method of instruction, but Rock Island and Ya Got Trouble are still my favorite rap songs.

Seventy-Six Trombones is the signature song of the show, but the best line is Hill’s concession that he always thinks there’s a band. With a nod to another show, that should be everyone’s new philosophy.