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273 6 “A Model of Decorum and Tranquility” Other Megamusicals in the 1980s In May 1986, New York Times critic Frank Rich reported from London on several new musicals. He used the opportunity to summarize the current state of musical theater, both in London and New York. In short, he lamented the megamusical’s takeover of the theater scene in both cities. Though he did not use the word, which had not yet come into circulation, his transatlantic excursion led him to the realization that the era of the British megamusical was undeniably in full swing: “The unthinkable has finally happened—London, an erstwhile also-ran in the contemporary musical theater, threatens to surpass New York as a production center for musical extravaganzas.” Rich counted nine shows that qualified as (what we now call) megamusicals, ones which “adhere to the form of pop-rock opera that, as perfected by the now severed team of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice, is England’s latter-day claim to the Gilbert and Sullivan tradition.”1 Only a month later, he updated his conclusions: London no longer “threatens to surpass,” but now surpasses Broadway as a manufacturer of musical extravaganzas. What’s more, a distinctive London musical theater style has emerged—one that consolidates and coarsens the Disneyland-ride format of “Cats.” As with that commercial smash, English musicals now tend to be deafening soft-rock operettas, in which lavish environmental sets (often designed by John Napier, of “Cats,” and usually replicated in an elaborate line of merchandised knickknacks) take precedence over story, dancing or characters.2 Rich noted that although London was mounting few new plays, many of its slew of new musicals were expected to go to Broadway. Of these offerings, he argued, “Only ‘Chess,’ whose London reception will likely mandate improvements for a New York edition, resembles a Broadway product.” Whether he meant Chess was like a more typical Broadway musical or it was worthy of appearing on Broadway, the point is clear: the British invasion could not be ignored. The other 274 “A MODEL OF DECORUM AND TRANQUILITY” two shows he discussed in his report from London, Starlight Express and Time, both focused heavily on spectacle, for which the former would suffer in New York. Time never made it to Broadway, instead becoming a famous flop thanks to its bizarre features, including an overwhelming laser-filled planetarium set by megamusical designer Napier and the disembodied head of an alien Laurence Olivier.3 This chapter discusses megamusicals not embraced by critics or audiences, as well as the state of musical theater in general in the 1980s. What distinguished megamusicals other than the Big Three of Cats, Les Misérables, and The Phantom of the Opera? And what room was left for musicals of other styles, by different creators? Stephen Oliver and Tim Rice’s Blondel Tim Rice’s first show without Andrew Lloyd Webber, Blondel, was—as he notes in the liner notes to Blondel’s recording—“my first commercial failure.”4 It ran briefly in London but never arrived on Broadway. He takes much of the responsibility , suggesting that the problems lay in the book (which, like all three of his collaborations with Lloyd Webber, had been his idea, but became the work of many hands) and an overly large and somewhat unsuccessful staging. He expresses great admiration for the music, by opera composer Stephen Oliver, and hopes that someday a smaller, light-hearted production will honor the composer’s only foray into musicals. Blondel is, indeed, a romp. The two-CD original cast recording includes virtually every word of the show, and from it one gets a strong sense of the gleefully anachronistic, occasionally topical humor. The story takes place in the year 1189, when King Richard of England leaves his country in the hands of his smarmy brother John to lead the Crusades. A court minstrel, Blondel, hoping both to honor his beloved king and make it big in show business, treks all over Europe in pursuit of Richard, whom he eventually discovers imprisoned in Austria. Blondel ’s long-suffering girlfriend, Fiona, joins the search, and helps thwart a bumbling assassin that Prince John has sent after his brother. There is never any real danger; the show is all jokes, biting social commentary, clever puns, and running about. Blondel’s song to honor King Richard, with which he drives everyone mad by playing all over Europe, is a 1960s-style doo-wop complete with backup girls (the...

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