the finale
by Douglas Messerli
Stephen Schwartz (music and lyrics), Roger O Hirson (book), Bob
Fosse (contributions to the libretto) Pippin / 1972. The production I
saw was filmed for Canadian Television.
I never saw Pippin on Broadway and had no
inclination to listen to an original cast recording, particularly since Stephen
Schwartz—despite his great successes with Godspell and Wicked—the
latter of which I listened to simply because I was trapped on an airplane, and
had already listened to classical music and jazz. I was not impressed, to say
the least. May the tourists keep the show open for years, but I’ll never visit
it.
I
very much like the dancer/singer Ben Vereen, but from the few clips I’d seen of
Pippin it seemed to be more like a circus than a serious musical. And I
must admit, I’ve never been a deep admirer of circuses.
The
other day, however, I noticed that a Canadian television version of the musical
was available on my HDBroadway site, and decided to give it a chance. I’m glad
I did.
And yes,
there is a kind rowdy circus atmosphere to much of the show, particularly with
those who guide the confused young Pippin, son of the conqueror Charlemagne,
through his search for a meaningful life.
Pippin,
who has been well educated—perhaps in the manner of Candide by Dr.
Pangloss—believes that he destined for an identity that defines his being. As
he sings in “Corner of the Sky”:
[PIPPIN]
Everything has its season
Everything has its time
Show me a reason and I'll soon show you a rhyme
Cats fit on the windowsill
Children fit in the snow
Why do I feel I don't fit in anywhere I go?
Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
To
find how he might fit into the world the young Pippin (played in the production
I saw by William Katt) first explores war with his violent half-brother, whom
even Charlemagne (Benjamin Rayson) calls an idiot. War is clearly not the
gentle Pippin’s destiny.
The
troupe—who through Bob Fosse’s choreography and directorial additions—look more
like figures out of Cabaret than a traveling circus band, next proffer
up to Pippin a magical landscape of sex—lesbian, gay, and heterosexual. The educated
young man clearly does not perceive this as his “corner of the sky.”
Hearing the protests of the peasants against the harshness of his father,
however, turns the son suddenly, and with a little help by Vereen, into a
revolutionary. As his father goes to pray at Arles, Pippin meets him there and
attempts to change Charlemagne’s ways without success. The only way to rule is
through power, dominating your subjects, argues the King. The musical suddenly
speaks to us in Trumpian terms.
Charlemagne
argues that if Pippin thinks he can do better he should kill him, which Pippin
quickly does by stabbing him in the back.
Immediately crowned King, Pippin is suddenly met head on with numerous conundrums,
none of which he can solve. Begging for release from his newly attained
position, Pippin begs for his father’s return. The Leading Player suddenly brings
Charlemagne back to life, Pippin stalking off in search of his true destiny
once more.
All
along this musical has also been a sort of statement about theater itself. And
there is no better evidence of this in the next adventure along Pippin’s path
when he meets a wealthy widow with a young boy who is smitten by the arch of Pippin’s
foot.
Taking
him back to her home, she nurses him back to health, and encourages him to
become one of her hired hands, who plant her gardens and fix up any areas of
the estate that need carpentry.
Pippin, expectedly, grows tired of this as well,
and she finally invites him into her home to sit at her table, possibly
becoming her new husband. The two have sex, the first time a disaster, but the
second time a success. As she pleads with Pippin to sit at the head of the
table, The Leading Player suddenly reappears to criticize her acting, demanding
that she do the scene over, scolding instead of speaking pleasantly.
This
time Pippin is almost tempted to take on the new role, but still believing he
is of special worth cannot be bothered with such a closed-off destiny, and
sadly leaves the widow.
The Leading
Player and his troop try to cheer him up with their Finale, which does include
magic tricks, including one figure who seemingly immolates himself. Pippin scoffs,
knowing it was a trick. “But it won’t be when you perform it,” argues The
Leading Player.
In
short, they demand for the finale of the show that the always searching Pippin
end his searches by allowing himself to be burned up alive.
If
Pippin utterly rejects the idea, they cajole him on how perfect it would be,
the audience going home teary eyed for the death of the always unhappy hero.
Suddenly Pippin determines that he is better off with the widow and her
child that being dead, and determines to return to her.
Angry with the course of events The Leading Player and his troupe
suddenly take away all the theatrical elements of this work, halting the
orchestra’s instruments, stripping the stage of curtains, lights, and other
elements of the set. It is a stage the way it might appear before any theatrical
sleight-of-hand.
The widow, Pippin, and her son now stand, almost
naked in theatrical terms, on a devastated stage, but sure of their futures
and, finally for Pippin, his own true identity. It is the story of Candide all
over again. They almost sing “Make Our Garden Grow.”
One
commentator complained that the Canadian production “truncated” the original,
primarily it seems, by dropping two words and cutting one song, “I Guess I’ll
Miss the Man.” But any production that also brought in three Broadway legends:
Verren, Chita Rivera as Charlemagne’s sexy and plotting wife (“I’m just and
ordinary housewife,” she declares), and Martha Raye as Berthe, Pippin’s
grandmother (who demands that the audience sing along with her until last
chorus, when she takes over), is just
fine with me.
Los Angeles, June 12, 2020
Reprinted from USTheater, Opera, and Performance
(June 2020).
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