Patricia Morrison, Alfred Drake, Lisa Kirk, and Harold Lang in the original Broadway production of Kiss Me Kate. |
Cole Porter had a
problem. More than one, actually. One of the most acclaimed composers and lyricists of his time was in the midst of a long dry spell.
The onset of World War II had
driven him from his beloved Paris where
he had churned out hit after hit while living an extravagant life style. Back home in the U.S. and in constant pain from a horseback riding accident left both of his legs crushed, he had not
had a genuine Broadway hit since DuBarry
Was a Lady with Ethyl Merman and
Burt Lahr in 1939. His two most successful subsequent shows
produced no hits or durable standards, three others had modest runs, and two
were out and out flops. Although he
continued to contribute memorable songs to a string of Hollywood movie musicals, he yearned to once again reclaim the
stage triumphs of shows like Anything Goes.
Worse
than that, Porter saw an old rival who
he considered to be no more than a journeyman
lyricist—Oscar Hammerstein II—rise
to unprecedented success. Hammerstein,
the son of a famed theatrical producer had collaborated with the like of Jerome Kern, Sigmund Romberg, and
others producing a long string of hits.
He had teamed up with tunesmith Richard
Rodgers, former partner of Lorenz
Hart, and together they had created Oklahoma! in 1943, a show that
revolutionized musical theater by fully integrating the songs and dance numbers into advancing the
plot. Almost immediately the revue style shows and flimsy farces during in which songs were
inserted almost at random—the kinds of shows Porter had mastered—were out of
fashion.
Porter
was frankly not sure that he was capable of writing one of the new book shows. His specialty was highly sophisticated patter laden with innuendo and often wry
detachment which he did not think would lend themselves well to the new
form.
Then
Bella Spewack approached him with an
interesting proposition—collaboration on a musical based on William Shakespeare’s bawdy comedy, The
Taming of the Shrew. Bella was
the distaff half of a prolific playwriting couple. But she was currently estranged from her
stormy relationship with husband Samuel
Spewack. Both were Eastern European born Jewish emigrants to New York who had met while working on
the Socialist Daily Call. The state of
her tempestuous marriage clearly attracted Spewack to the project.
Despite
the enormous differences in their backgrounds and politics—Porter was a wealthy
WASP from Indiana who, as far as he had any politics at all, was a Republican—the composer agreed to give
it a try. At first it did not go
well. The tunes did not flow. There was trouble with the book. Eventually Samuel was brought in as a
collaborator. Working sessions were
tense, and Porter clashed with the valuable male partner of the writing duo.
It
was Porter who arrived at a solution to a major problem. Instead of just setting the Bard’s play to music, why not make it a backstage musical and feature a show within a show—an operetta of the play being performed by
bickering stars who mimic their personas on stage. For bickering dialogue, the Spewack’s had a
wealth of experience to draw on and Porter was comfortable in backstage milieu similar
to some of his previous plays and several of the movies to which he had
contributed.
Once
that decision was made, things went much better. Porter was able to salvage songs written for
the original play and add very different material, to the behind the scenes high jinx.
In
the Spewack’s book an egotistic
writer/director/producer, Fred Graham,
is putting on a musical production of The
Shrew casting himself, naturally as Petruchio
and his ex-wife, Lilli Vanessi, as Katherine.
She is a full blown diva
who returns to the stage after her once glittering career as a movie star begins to dim. Graham seems to have an ulterior motive for
the casting—to win back his ex-love. All
of the action takes place on opening
night of the musical. His ambitions
are thwarted by being caught with a roving eye for the ingĂ©nue, Lois Lane—not Superman’s paramour—who plays Bianca.
Lois’s ne’re-do-well boyfriend,
Bill Calhoun who doubles as Lucentio
provides complication by signing a gambling
marker for 10 Gs in Graham’s
name attracting to Damon Runioneque
hoods out to collect their boss’s money.
Fussing, fighting, and hilarity ensue on stage and off.
Morrison consults with Cole Porter during the recording of the original cast album. |
Saint Subber and Lemuel Ayers, the producers, came up
with brilliant casting. For
Graham/Petruchio they snared Alfred
Drake, a handsome, booming voiced baritone
who had catapulted to fame in the original production of
Oklahoma! Born Alfred Capurro in New York as the son
of Italian emigrant parents from Genoa, he was perfect for the
part. Mezzo-soprano Patricia
Morison as Lilli/Kate had a career that mirrored the part she played. An exotic, raven haired beauty she had mostly
minor rolls on Broadway in the 30’s before being signed by Paramount Pictures looking for a clone of their big star Dorothy Lamour. She appeared in a string of mostly B movies, usually cast as the villainess, vamp, or other woman in
both dramas and minor musicals. She occasionally
got leads in forgettable films. So she
was more of a starlet than a
star. But she gained a lot of attention
when she went on a USO tour to Britain in 1943 with Al Jolson and Merle Oberon. Her singing
was broadcast back home. Her voice, her striking
beauty, and here experience with mercurial movie rolls made her a perfect fit
for her bow as a Broadway leading lady.
Morrison, by the way, is still alive at 99 years of age and was active
enough to sing a number from the show last year at a charity event.
Rounding
out the cast were husky voiced alto Lisa
Kirk, an accomplished comedienne
and dancer as Lois/Bianca and British dancer Harold Lang as Bill/ Lucentio.
Kiss
Me Kate
had a short, hugely successful, three week try out in Philadelphia before opening on December 30, 1948 at the New Century Theatre, where it ran for
nineteen months before transferring to the Shubert,
for a total run of 1,077 performances.
It was by far Cole Porter’s longest running Broadway show. Everything about the eye catching production wowed
the critics and public alike—especially
Porter’s songs.
It
was an especially rich collection of future standards and memorable specialty
and novelty numbers including in the original production the curtain raising Another
Opening of Another Show, Wunderbar, So In Love, Tom Dick or Harry, I Hate Men, Too
Darn Hot, Always True to You in My Fashion, Bianca, Brush Up Your Shakespeare, and
the finale for both Act I and Act II, Kiss
Me Kate.
The
show nearly dominated the Tony Awards for
1949, the first year in which musicals were included in the competition. It took home Best Musical, Best Author/Book for the battling Spewacks, Best Score for Porter, Best Producer for Subber and Ayers, and
best costume design for Ayers. Its four
stars, however lost out to the cast of another show that opened that year, a
little thing called South Pacific.
After
the Broadway run ended, Morison successfully stared in a London East End production.
Kiss Me Kate has subsequently
been revived successfully several times in both London and New York as well as
enjoying productions around the world.
Most memorable was a 1999 Broadway revival that took home five Tony
Awards, and five Drama Desk Awards. It also was mounted several times on television on both sides of the Atlantic including a live 1958 production
with the original cast.
Ann Miller, Bobby Van, Bob Fosse, and Tommy Rall in one of the dazzling dance numbers from the MGM musical. |
But
most people are familiar the show from its dazzling mounting as an MGM Technicolor extravaganza in
1953. All of the major parts were
re-cast. MGM had its own deep pool of
musical talent. The beautiful Katheryn Grayson and the studio’s
resident theatrical soprano, hot off the success of Show Boat was cast as
Lilly. Howard Keel was the big—6’4”—hyper
masculine baritone who was an MGM heartthrob in such blockbuster musicals
as Annie
Get Your Gun, Show Boat, and Calamity Jane was a natural
for the male lead. Leggy Ann Miller, then the reigning queen of
the tap dance whose numbers stopped
a lot of films, took over as Lois and Bianca.
Dancer Tommy Rall was the
least known of the four leads and he shared memorable dance numbers with a
couple of other rising hoofers Bobby Van
and Bob Fosse.
In
the movie the relatively minor characters of the two hoods, Lippy and Slug, were particular scene stealers. Veteran character actor Keenan Wynn was cast as Lippy and rising star James Whitmore, known best then for his gritty soldiers in war films
was Slug. Their rendition of Brush Up Your Shakespeare is rightly
considered a movie musical classic.
The
movie also inserted a character named Cole Porter as the composer of the staged
Taming of the Shrew.
As said elsewhere, while Brush up your Shakespeare is funny in the movie, the Hayes Office so censored it from the staged production that it is a different number.
ReplyDeleteIn the production I did, one of the hoods was my fellow Shimer student Drew Eschelman.