BROADWAY SNAP-SHOT, 29 November 1999
by Russell Bouthiller

Broad, bright and brassy are the bywords for this play-within-a-play linked by a feuding couple playing the leads of both. Indeed, the origins of the show are as juicy as the show itself. During a production of Shakespeare's THE TAMING OF THE SHREW, the youthful and unemployed producer, Arnold Saint-Subber, witnessed Alfred Lunt and Lynne Fontanne carry the Bard's on-stage brawls to an off-stage setting. Thus, the scheme was hatched. Along with Lemuel Ayers, Saint-Subber hammered together a production by enlisting the talents of book-writers Sam and Bella Spewak, who at the time were enjoying their own marital mishaps.

Though they may not have been speaking to each other, the Spewaks managed to convince a reluctant Cole Porter to climb on board and take his pen to music and lyrics. Porter, it seems, had misgivings about brushing up his snappy style against that of old Will's. Such apprehensions proved ill-founded, for after its opening night in December of 1948, KISS ME, KATE was hailed by critics and went on to enjoy a run of over a thousand performances. The original cast starred Alfred Drake, Patricia Morison, Harold Lang and Lisa Kirk. KISS ME, KATE became Porter's greatest success and secured his place in the Pantheon of theatrical composers. As for their reward, the Spewaks joined Saint-Subber, Ayers and Porter in winning a Tony. They also managed to mend their own connubial woes, for good. So in love were they to stay.

KISS ME, KATE--the title plucked from Petruchio's dialogue--details the light-hearted story of Fred Graham (Brian Stokes Mitchell) and Lilli Vanessi (Marin Mazzie), a one-time couple who have reunited in an out-of-town musical production of Shakespeare's THE TAMING OF THE SHREW. This musical-within-the-musical has no shortage of back-stage back-biting to keep the on-stage fireworks aflame. Vanessi, returning from a not-so-successful stint in Hollywood, provides star appeal for the egotistical Graham's fledgling production which he also conceived and directs.

Lois Lane (Amy Spanger), certainly no blushing Bianca, has one hungry eye on Graham and another on Bill Calhoun (Michael Berresse), the company's Lucentio whose luckless gambling bring in a couple of local gangsters who are as eager to collect on a debt as they are to earn an Equity card. This is musical comedy at it best, both in score and book. No linear explanation can do it justice. It simply must be seen to be savored. And, the only thing that really matter is that the guy gets the girl in the end, which he does with no firm explanation. But, who cares? After all, it's not as if this is one of the Bard's histories.

Director Michael Blakemore aims straight for the funny bone and makes no bones about it. He seems to wring every last bit of talent out of each department, resulting in a final product worthy of a new axiomatic description. It's the Peter principle somehow idealized where everyone rises to a level of perfection. Stars Marin Mazzie and Brian Stokes Mitchell aren't simply good; they're utterly captivating. Costar Amy Spanger punches out of the scenery with every song and Michael Berresse's acrobatics seem to defy human potential. From the costume and lighting designs to the supporting cast, every creative player gets the chance to reach for the heavens and by the end of the evening the stage of the Martin Beck seems littered with star dust.

Of course, none of this would be possible without the brilliant Cole Porter score which is chock-o-block full of classics. Setting the pace is "Another Op'nin, Another Show," and, then, we soon drink in Spanger's moneyed turn on "Tom, Dick or Harry." Brian Stokes Mitchell and Marin Mazzie, who lit up the stage in the dramatic production of RAGTIME, bless us anew with a lighter fare this time around. Mazzie's "I Hate Men" crackles and pops while Mitchell's "So in Love" stirs the soul and steals the show. Mitchell rolls Porter's lyrics in velvet ease with such lines as "If my wife has a bag of gold, do I care if the bag is old?" Gangsters Lee Wilkof and Michael Mulheren urge us with solid gold comedic currency to "Brush Up Your Shakespeare," And, last but not least, Kathleen Marshall's choreography in "Too Darn Hot" nearly burns the Beck to the basement with Stanley Wayne Mathis leading the heated ensemble.

This current revival of KISS ME, KATE is the first since the show's opening in 1948 and one has to wonder why it took so long. Perhaps, it needed half a century to get it right or to distance ourselves from the legendary original production. One thing's for sure, a show such as this comes around once in a lifetime. It's an unqualified must see.