Loverly:The Life and Times of My Fair Lady (Broadway Legacies) by McHugh, Dominic (best ereader for pc .TXT) 📗

to become the longest-running Broadway show to date; it maintained this record for nearly a decade. The original cast won almost universal raves, both on Broadway and in London, and in 1964 the show went on to be adapted into one of the most successful movie musicals of all time, winning eight Academy Awards. The show was also seen internationally, including a tour to Russia at the height of the Cold War as part of a goodwill exchange with America. Broadway revivals in 1976 and 1981 returned to the original designs, choreography, and direction for inspiration, and three of the original 1956 cast members returned to their original roles. A further revival in 1993 continued this pattern, as Stanley Holloway’s son, Julian, took on his father’s role of Alfred Doolittle. Trevor Nunn’s 2001 production at London’s National Theatre quickly transferred to the West End, where it ran for 1,000 performances before touring first the UK and then the United States to mark the musical’s fiftieth anniversary. A new film version is currently in pre-production, which will make it one of the few musicals from Broadway’s golden age to enjoy two big-screen adaptations. Clearly, the show has a special place in the repertoire. This chapter explores its legacy in the theater, both in terms of trends and gestures in productions of the piece and how it was received by critics.

ORIGINAL BROADWAY PRODUCTION (1956)

Variety was one of the first publications to review the show. Its critic saw the premiere at the Shubert Theatre in New Haven on January 4 and reported: “[The show] has so much to recommend it that only a radical (and highly improbable) slipup in the simonizing process can keep it out of the solid click class.”1 This was the first of many ecstatic responses that the work would receive and is littered with gushing statements such as “George Bernard Shaw … never had it so good as with this lavish production,” “a glove-fitting score,” “stellar direction,” and “a general aura of quality.” A week later, Variety published a short article stating that fifteen minutes of the show’s running time was cut during the New Haven run (which ended on February 11), largely consisting of the “Come to the Ball” number. “Say a Prayer for Me Tonight” and the “Decorating Eliza” ballet were reported to have been cut after the New Haven closure but before the start of the Philadelphia tryouts on February 15. The article also said that “Local reaction to the musical set a new high for the last six years, rivaling that for the break-in stand of South Pacific at the same house in the spring of 1949.”2

This critical and popular success was to be more than matched when the show reached Broadway. The early reviews underline certain elements of the work that continue to inform its critical reception to this day. The first is the musical’s Shavian precedent, which was mentioned by all the reviewers. This is one of the points on which they were most divided. Some were highly complimentary of Lerner and Loewe’s work; for instance, Robert Coleman in the Daily Mirror said that Lerner’s lyrics had “kept the essence of the original” and that they “beautifully complement the Shavian dialogue.”3 Similarly, William Hawkins in the New York World-Telegram claimed that Pygmalion “has been used with such artfulness and taste, such vigorous reverence, that it springs freshly to life all over again.”

Most of the other leading critics made a point of attributing much of the musical’s success to Shaw. John Chapman’s review for the Daily News described My Fair Lady as a “musical embellishment of Bernard Shaw’s romantic comedy,” and went on to say that Lerner and Loewe “have written much the way Shaw must have done had he been a musician instead of a music critic.” The word “embellishment” here seems pointed; though not entirely pejorative, it portrays the composer and lyricist as having merely decorated something that was already there, rather than adapting the play as radically as they did. Similarly, Chapman’s comment about composing “as Shaw must have done” to some extent denies the imagination of Lerner and Loewe’s approach: it is as if their creation was pastiche rather than original. Three of the other reviewers were even more direct on the subject. John McClain’s Journal American review refers to the fact that Shaw’s text had not been “tamp[ered with] too much,” while Richard Watts Jr. in the New York Post wrote: “In handing out the allotments of praise, I suppose it would be a good idea to begin with Bernard Shaw. As a librettist, he is immense.” The latter comment apparently puts Lerner out of the picture as the show’s book writer. Along similar lines, Brooks Atkinson’s review in the New York Times contained the comment, “Shaw’s crackling mind is still the genius of My Fair Lady.”

In sum, although all the critics seemed to have hugely enjoyed the musical, they were almost united in denying Lerner and Loewe credit for its success, in spite of Lerner’s large number of departures from Shaw in his book. Of course, they did have a point, since more of Shaw’s play remains in the musical than would normally be the case, but one of the reasons for their stance is probably that they were drama specialists who all revered Pygmalion, rather than music specialists with an interest in the process of making it into a musical. The comments on the music almost speak for themselves: “Unpretentious and pleasantly periodic” was McClain’s description; “robust” was Atkinson’s adjective for the score; “they certainly are clever” said Hawkins of the songs.

In addition to overemphasizing Shaw’s contribution and lacking the space (or knowledge) to do justice to Loewe’s music, the critics’ comments on the Eliza-Higgins relationship are fascinating, not the least because there is no consensus. Atkinson refers to “love music” and describes Higgins as “a bright young man in love with fair lady.” Coleman is likewise certain that Harrison is “the Pygmalion who falls in