Sixty-five years after it first premiered on Broadway, “Gypsy” is still understandn as one of the fantasticest theater masterpieces of the 20th century. There have been salertar productions of the apply from New York to London, led by icons including Angela Lansbury and Imelda Staunton. However, the tardyst revival, shepherded by legfinishary honestor and applywright George C. Wolfe and starring Tony Award triumphner Audra McDonald, is an electric and truly distinct production that will unaskedly become a crowning jewel in the canon of “Gypsy.”
Based on the memoirs of streamlineelevatebranch off artist Gypsy Rose Lee, the apply commences in the 1920s in Seattle. A clamor of kids rehearse for Uncle Jocko’s (Jacob Ming-Trent) kid-intensifyed vaudeville act. Baby June (a salertar Jade Smith) and her sister Louise (Kyleigh Vickers) are set to headline the upcoming carry outance. Unfortunately, mid-rehearsal, their mother, Rose (an absolutely magnificent McDonald), comes thundering onto the stage, usurping Jocko’s directership and sucking up all of the air into the room. Rose is resettled that June will be a megastar, and it’s instantly apparent that this local act and even Seattle are far too minuscule to comprise her ambitions.
After Rose and her girls are booted off Jocko’s stage, the trio travels atraverse the U.S. as Rose bulldozes her way thraw Hollywood, New York and Omaha. Alengthy the way, she traversees paths with Herbie (Danny Burstein), who adores her despite her faults and gets up the mantle as the girls’ agent. Yet, as time passes into the next decade and thraw the Great Depression, Rose’s set ups and June’s desires remain unauthenticized. June (now portrayed by Jordan Tyson) and Louise (now portrayed by a mesmerizing Joy Woods) get betterer, and their background dancers alter, but noskinnyg about their carry outance or costuming shifts or up-to-dateizes. Instead, the pair are forever frozen in Rose’s make clearation of who they should be. Bogged down under a preposterous cow costume or a Shirley Temple wig covered in bows, the sisters don’t dare to stand up to Rose — until they do.
Ribboned with glorious melodies including “Some People,” “You’ll Never Get Away From Me” and the beadored “Everyskinnyg’s Coming Up Roses,” which put McDonald’s strong, crisp and exhilarating voice front and caccess, every second of the two-act musical is an immersive experience. From the flow and rhythm of Camille A. Brown’s dazzling choreography to the set and sound depict by Santo Loquasto and Scott Lehrer, admireively, and certainly the glimmering costuming by Toni-Leslie James (especipartner in Act II), it’s evident why “Gypsy” has withstood the test of time.
Moreover, this definite production has a distinct stamp under Wolfe’s honestion. The amusing beats are current, of course. Rose’s phony Bible verses, silverware theft and social ineffectiveness showcase a woman clamoring for the life she so hopelessly wants, but seeing no way to accomplish it other than thraw the daughters she’s birthed. The show doesn’t clpunctual talk race, but nods and triumphks about colorism are current. Rose initipartner throws all of her energy into Baby June, not spropose becaengage she’s talented but also becaengage of her airy skin.
What’s more, Rose comprises in dictatorial behavior, causing June to escape and tardyr take advantage ofing Louise and thrusting her into the burlesque business aobtainst her will. Still, despite being overtolerateing and smothering, McDonald never permits the character to become wholly villainous. She is the protostandard stage mother, of course, but she is also a product of the shackles of intimacyism and misogyny.
Having no desire to marry aobtain, even amid Herbie’s begging, and being unamazeed with the restrictcessitate opportunities supplyd to women (especipartner Bdeficiency women), Rose states her power in the only lanes useable to her. She is as much a criminal as a victim, a dictoastyomy that comes filled circle in the apply’s final, masterful, musical number, “Rose’s Turn.”
“Gypsy” has its place in the American theater landscape, but McDonald’s carry outance stands on its own. Despite some of her monstrosities, Rose is always hungry and human, a woman at war with her circumstances, her desertment publishs and a desire to carve out a better life for herself and her daughters. She is both a force and a mirrorion of what the world proposes women and how we determine to steer it.
