Monday, June 8, 1998
‘Broadway Damage’ tunes movie musical
FILM: While predictable, comedy manages to show loveable
characters who win audience’s sympathy
By Cheryl Klein
Daily Bruin Senior Staff
We knew they were out there – twentysomethings who read the
Sondheim Review and revel in the simplicity of a happy ending, but
refrain from launching into campy reprisals of, well, anything from
"Funny Girl." They’re suffering Broadway damage of the best
kind.
Victor Mignatti has written and directed a movie (opening
Friday) for a small but sincere segment of the population.
Its central characters are almost immediately likable; Marc
(Michael Shawn Lucas) is a determined actor, on the lookout for the
perfect part and the perfect man, which appear equally
unattainable. Robert (Aaron Williams) is his puppy-doggish best
friend, who, in a lovable tribute to financial suicide, is trying
to land an acting job to finance his career as a musical theater
writer. Marc’s roommate Cynthia (Mara Hobel) thinks the best route
to her dream job is stalking New Yorker editor Tina Brown.
In many ways, the film follows standard musical format, though
with one notable exception – the soundtrack plays third fiddle at
best. Robert moons over Marc. Marc is blind to it, falling instead
for a string of losers, namely the dashing David ("Side Show’s"
Hugh Panaro), whose tattooed bicep holds the key to a seedy double
life.
But they’re a duet waiting to happen and we know they’ll be
together before the credits role. Cynthia is the staple comic best
friend, filling in for that funny looking guy who followed Gene
Kelly around and gave him girl advice in "An American in
Paris."
So, yes, "Broadway Damage" is predictable. It succumbs
completely and knowingly to the psychological condition that is its
namesake: that desire for flash and innocence and romance. There is
an innocence to the film itself. Most of the cast could stand an
"and introducing …" tag before their names and it shows. Early
lines get an overly ambitious, read-through treatment, suggesting
the film was shot in sequence. The uneven dialogue mixes random
cliches and flat sitcom gags with wisdom and wit. (Theater ticket
operator Jerry to client on the other end of the line: "No ma’am.
You cannot get hit by the flying chandelier.")
But this naivete also opens a door for nuance and, believe it or
not, refreshing realism. The Greenwich Village apartment, for
instance, is actually small. Cynthia is actually fat. And she still
has friends, sex and a wardrobe that any savvy drag queen would
kill for.
And if the three principles (especially Lucas) are
less-than-natural in front of the camera at first, they end up
embracing their characters and forcing the audience to follow suit.
Williams’ Robert evokes winces when he unsuccessfully flirts with a
card shop employee – think Jon Favreau’s answering machine scene in
"Swingers" – but becomes his own Derby dynamo when he pours his
heart out on the keyboard later.
Hobel balances Cynthia’s thick-headed, poor-little-rich-girl
rants with humor and a no-sobs-barred scene which genuinely conveys
the sublime terror of fending for herself in a world without
Daddy’s credit card. Lucas manages to be a catch without being a
Ken doll. The only performance that never adds up is Panaro’s: with
a leather vest, ’70s haircut and smarmy smile, David is always more
dirty than dreamboat-y.
That said, "Broadway Damage" carves itself an interesting niche
in the movie musical history books. First, there’s that little
detail of it not being a musical – not musically speaking. Here
Mignatti adopts playwright Terrance McNally’s ability to weave
musical motifs and structures into a non-musical format.
Thematically, though, it tap dances in the footsteps of Fred and
Ginger’s early romantic romps.
Yet by dropping the needless bickering (Marc and Robert never
question their friendship) and the cardboard setting, "Damage" is
very much the ’90s. With colorful street scenes and characters who
would never address Lloyd Webber as "Lord," it has the texture of
"Rent" with a few more cockroaches.
Arguably, the movie musical has been suffering an identity
crisis for 30 years. Once the ’60s happened and we could no longer
kid ourselves, musicals toyed with darker themes, from the
psychedelic but ultimately un-impactive "Hair" to the ingeniously
cynical "All That Jazz."
"Broadway Damage" will have none of that. We can almost see
Robert’s bespectacled eyes widen with betrayal at the thought. And
perhaps the statement is all the stronger when we see the perfect,
comfortable, pettin’-in-the-park love story against a background of
rejection and peeling linoleum.
This dichotomy ultimately makes for a film that is both industry
and amateurishly indie, nostalgic but not condescending. People
break into song and even if there’s no off-screen band to back them
up, they still fall in love. Why? Because the courtees are
suffering from a beautiful case of Broadway damage themselves.