Everday Rapture

When I go to a one-performer show, I expect a loose narrative for the performer to show off his or her talents – particularly if the show is steeped in music.  I don’t expect a fully-formed plot with character development that relies as equally on the dramatic skills of the performer as his/her well-recognized comedic and musical talents.  While Sarah Jones & Anna Deveare Smith have transcended the genre by inhabiting multiple characters to create a narrative, musical performers tend to rely on their vocal prowess to enrapture the audience.  Having seen both Bea Arthur and Elaine Stritch do this incredibly well, I was still struck by the balance of an actual plotline in Sherie Rene Scott’s Everyday Rapture.

I had seen the earlier incarnation of the show at Second Stage, and was thrilled to hear it was finally transferring to the big stage.  Strangely hosted by the Roundabout at their play revival theatre, Everyday Rapture isn’t simply a one-woman performance.  There are some other performers contributing, but Scott, with co-writer Dick Scanlon, is delivering arguably the most complete new musical of the season.

Scott recants fictionalized (one assumes) accounts of her Kansasan upbringing, including her (a) friendship with one of Fred Phelps’ clan, (b) love for Judy Garland, and (c) enjoyment of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.  There are some lovely bon mots about the Phelps church and their insidious ways, but Scott conveys that youthful contradiction of being a good half-Mennonite and loving Judy.  She even goes so far as to reenact a childhood performance at the local high-end rehab center at the behest of her not-out gay cousin.  Asking the eternal question about what would an idol do, she launches into “Get Happy”, fully inclusive of the climatic modulation to hilarious effect.  That moment early on has its gorgeous yang with a take on “You Made Me Love You”, performed with some outrageous images of Jesus.

There are some other tales about youth (and a fantastic rendition of Mr. Rogers’ theme song), but the dramatic pull between her two sides is constantly reinforced through two pieces of paper she keeps in her pockets: “I am a speck of dust” and “The world was created for me”.  A showbiz contradiction in gloriously rich terms, indeed.  As she grows, the dramatic arc dealing with her cousin, her move to New York, and a delightful if ultimately harrowing first romance is really quite splendidly executed.  Sure, there are some plot-lines that aren’t as strong as others, but the woven delivery and the development of a true story are quite excellent.

As Scott emerges into a “semi-star” of “semi-hit shows”, arguably the greatest section of the show, she recounts an interaction with a young male fan who records himself lip-synching to one of her soundtrack numbers.  Eamon Foley delivers a bright, energetic performance that is every bit as scene-stealingly delightful as David Bologna as Michael in Billy Elliott.  There’s a lot to be said in that moment, and Scott, rightly, allows the moment to speak for itself as Foley rightly upstages the star – the only exception being a zinger delivered (with love) at Idina Menzel.

What she doesn’t say, and what should be apparant from my effusive reaction, is that Scott is a star, radiating with charisma, talent & energy that befits a star.  If the Broadway-producing community can’t seem to find a good role for her, well, my inner casting director tells me she’d be a natural for Dolly (as in, Hello Dolly!), if anyone has the stones to mount that mammoth production.  She’s talented enough to hold a canonical role, and someone other than herself should write the woman a great diva role.

Anyway, the show moves into a few charming moments as Scott wraps up the show talking about her son, and her transition to motherhood.  Her final number, Up The Ladder To The Roof, is electric, and I was humming it all the way home.  And a little bit the day after.

But about that dramatic arc.  I haven’t done a great job of illustrating it, simply because it’s a narrative that really only works on stage.  There are moments of pride, joy, youthful delight, fear, and support for the LGBT community.  Scott’s tale of her life, from loving Judy Garland to dealing with her former friend in the Phelps clan who boycotted her cousin’s funeral to her rise on Broadway, is well-crafted, well-delivered, and a pure joy to watch.  In a season of under-developed shows, the balance and efficacy of the elements of this show really stand out.

And, yes, it really is one of the gay plays that have overcome the season.  Add it to Next Fall, Looped, The Pride, Yank!, La Cage Aux Folles,  and The Kid in a truly large (and strong) season of gay theatre.

While supported in his segment by Foley, Scott is also routinely balanced by her Mennon-ettes, Lindsay Mendez and Betsy Wolfe.  Both a delightful, in a supportive way that reminded me of Donna Murphy’s ever-present hot young things who followed her around during Anyone Can Whistle.  They do what they need to: provide sparkle while maintaining in the background.

The set is a little problematic, simply because while the theatre is on the smaller side (barely topping 800 seats), it feels much, much bigger.  And the stage is huge.  While not an ideal fit for this type of show, Christine Jones’s set design from Second Stage is simply bigger, creating a nice cosmic effect.  Given that the show transitioned in about a two week period from deal to first preview, there’s a lot of credit due to Jones, her team, and the rest of the production team.  And that doesn’t even touch on Scott, Scanlon, director Michael Mayer, and the rest of the creative team.

It’s always a pleasure to see potential greatness in a musical.  When that musical is essentially a cabaret act, there’s something special.  There’s a story, a performance, and music –  all delivered with brilliance.  Everyday Rapture is something special, powered by a dynamically lovely Sherie Rene Scott.  I could probably write another thousand words on the show – there’s that much material – but I’d rather you just go see it and experience the coming yourself.

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