It might end up being one the longest partnerships in the history of the American Musical... Read More
From the show: Broadway Bound: The Musicals That Never Came to Broadway
About
It might end up being one the longest partnerships in the history of the American Musical. Betty Comden and Adolph Green, the lyricists of On the Town, Wonderful Town, Bells Are Ringing, Do Re Mi, Applause, On the 20th Century, the screenplay writers of Singing in the Rain, and the duo that gave the world phrases like “New York, New York, it’s a helluva town!” “Never Never land!” “Make Someone Happy” “The Party’s Over” and so many others.
But, all of that amazing work might not have happened if they had brought their gold rush musical, Bonanza Bound, onto Broadway when they were first starting out!
Grab your sleds and huskies because there is gold in them that hills….and by hills I mean Philadelphia where we will look at 1947’s Bonanza Bound!
Transcript
This transcript was automatically generated and might contain errors.
[0:00] Robert W. Schneider: Will everyone here kindly step to the rear and let a winner lead the way? It might end up being one of the longest partnerships in the history of the American musical. Betty Comden and Adolph Green, the lyricists of On the Town, Wonderful Town, Bells Are Ringing, Do Re Mi, Applause, On the 20th Century, the screenplay writers of Singing in the Rain, they gave the world phrases like "New York, New York, it's a hell of a town," "Never Never Land," "Make Someone Happy," "The Party's Over," and so many others, but all of that amazing work might not have happened if they had brought their gold rush musical, Bonanza Bound, onto Broadway when they were first starting out and were being looked at as the next big thing.
So, grab your sleds and huskies, because there is gold in them there hills, and by hills I mean Philadelphia, where we'll look at 1947's Bonanza Bound. See what happened was, well, stay tuned to find out. Hi, I'm Rob Schneider, and welcome to another episode of Broadway Bound, the musicals that never came to Broadway. And if you like this show, please head over to robwschneider.com, click the tab that says AMTA, make a tax-deductible donation so our show can continue on and continue thriving.
[1:23] Robert W. Schneider: Okay, I'm going to climb on my soapbox for a moment. It really grinds my gears when we discuss musical theater and musical theater history, and people discuss Sondheim and Herman and Hammerstein and Hart and Rogers, and they leave out one of the most iconic partnerships of all time, especially when their track record is actually stronger than Sondheim and Herman's and Hammerstein's. I said it. Betty Comden and Adolph Green. Comden and Green. More than just a shout out in title of show. Speaking of title of show, one of my favorite things is, I hope you've all read Jen Tepper's books, The Untold Stories of Broadway, and she talks about, like, she takes the theater and then she does all the history of the theater and, you know, interviewing people with it.
And I think she was doing the Lyceum, where title of show was playing. And the title, the way it's written, it's all lowercase, I think, with, like, in brackets. So people would be like, oh, I did title of show, blah, blah, blah, blah. And people kept writing in, I think, on Amazon, being like, somebody needs to proofread the book, because they kept saying that they would insert the title of show, and it was never inserted. So, also, you're not a true musical theater fan if you don't know title of show. So, there we go. Thanks, America.
[2:23] Robert W. Schneider: Anyway, Betty Comden and Adolph Green. Who are they? What did they do? I'm so glad you asked, because they wrote the lyrics for these Tony Award-winning best musicals: Wonderful Town, 1953; Hallelujah, Baby, 1968; Applause, 1970. Then the Will Rogers. Will Rogers. How many Rogers are there? He has Will Rogers. The Will Ro... That's Nathan Lane in the Birdcage. Will Rogers Follies, 1991. Plus, On the Town, 1944; Peter Pan, 1954; Belzerine, 1956; Do Re Mi, 1960; On the 20th Century, 1978. Has also one of the best overtures ever. So, you all talk about Mac and Mabel's overture. Listen, On the 20th Century. It's got a freaking steam train in it, before Starlight Express. And they also wrote the screenplays to The Bandwagon, It's Always Fair Weather, Auntie Mame, and Singing in the Rain.
Singing in the freaking rain. Come on, people. Singing in the Rain has one of my favorite, favorite lines in it. It's Donald O'Connor, and he's describing Lena Lamont, and he goes, yeah, she's a triple threat. She can't sing, she can't dance, she can't act. I know lots of triple threats. I'm one of them. Each of the shows we just mentioned gave us songs that we still sing today. If it wasn't for Comden and Green, we wouldn't have "New York, New York," "The Party's Over," "Ohio," "Just in Time," "Make Someone Happy," and the list goes on and on and on. Okay, I need to lay down.
[3:32] Robert W. Schneider: Of course, they did have some bumps in the road, like Billion Dollar Baby, Subway's Are for Sleeping, and A Doll's Life, but their witty, urbane, and contemporary lyrics have not been matched. Not by Cole Porter, not by Lorenz Hart, not by Stephen Sondheim. There were complaints that they were more interested in their wittiness than in their characters, but I disagree. And they also—that was Larry David for you—I disagree. And they also pushed the envelope, giving us a loser as a protagonist in Do Re Mi, a modern comic opera in On the 20th Century, and tackling Ibsen in A Doll's Life. Even their less-than-stellar works have great material, like Bonanza Bound. See what I did there? Our story begins—we're going to Bonanza Bound, so if you're taking notes, please, new paper, new heading, do something, please.
Our story begins in 1938, down at New York University, where aspiring actor Adolph Green met aspiring actor Betty Comden. Adolph had a friend he met a year prior, a composer named Lenny Bernstein, and they were all friends with an adorable actress named Judy Toovum, but she hated that last name and she just changed it from Toovum to Holiday. That was the foursome that would pal around downtown New York and, as Milton Berle said, or probably stole this from someone else, if opportunity isn't knocking, build a door. If you want to know how Milton Berle knocked at a door, just watch the movie Saturday Night. Broadway was not really a home for these eccentric types, but nightclubs were. Remember, there is no TV, no UCB, no SNL, no Off-Broadway, so if you were looking for a place to be weird and performative, you had to play a club with your own materials.
[5:04] Robert W. Schneider: So this lovely group created The Reviewers, called The Reviewers, and took up residence in January 1941 at the Village Vanguard in Greenwich Village, New York. Back then, it was traditional that after a show, performers and audiences would go to a club to unwind, and so people came down to the Vanguard and were taken by this motley foursome and their offbeat, witty material. While Bernstein wasn't an official member, he was a huge fan, consistently bringing people down to see them do their own material. Things like this.
[5:57] ♪ Musical number: "The Reader's Eye" — performed by The Reviewers ♪
[12:11] Robert W. Schneider: Well, soon Broadway took notice and put the reviewers in the Broadway-bound musical My Dear Public in 1942. Who came up with these titles? My Dear Public, now with the Minskoff. But the show didn't come in, and when it did, it was without the reviewers. But no matter, Hollywood was doing a movie called Greenwich Village, starring Donna Meachie, and they put the reviewers in the film. Plus, when they weren't filming, they were able to perform at Hollywood's most prestigious nightclubs, getting seen by Tinseltown's greatest studio heads and creatives. That's not too shabby. And when the film debuted, they weren't in it. Cut. They were gone. And 20th Century Fox was like, hey, nice work, but we want Judy Holliday, so the others can go away.
Thanks so much. Sorry, Comden. Sorry, Green. Now, where did they go? Where were they to do? They were out on their fanny. Until good old Lenny. Good old, good old, good old Lenny invited them to write a musical with him. Lenny had been working with an up-and-coming choreographer named Jerry Robbins, and they created a ballet that debuted in January of 1944 at the Met called Fancy Free, about sailors on leave in New York, dancing in front of remarkable Oliver Smith sets. Producer Paul Fiege, I think that's how we say it, Fiege? Paul? We're just gonna call him Paul. Paul saw it, he loved it, and said it should be a full-length musical comedy. But unlike a ballet, a musical needs words and lyrics, and Lenny went to his friends Betty and Adolph.
Would they be interested? They loved this idea and really loved that they could also put themselves within the show. Within a year of its ballet premiere, Fancy Free became On the Town, and opened on December 28, 1944 to strong reviews, and suddenly New York, New York was the anthem of the city that never sleeps. Also, shout out to Comden and Green. The cast was racially diverse, and no jokes were made at the expense of their diversity. Good for you, Paul. Good for you, Betty. Good for you, Adolph. Good for everybody. Comden and Green were on top of the world, and they gladly signed on for Billion Dollar Baby, with a lot of the same On the Town team. The producer, Paul, Oliver Smith, librettists and lyricists Betty Comden and Adolph Green, director George Abbott, choreographer Jerome Robbins, scenic designer Oliver Smith, music director Max Goberman, and cast member Robert Chisholm.
Yes, a little reunion from On the Town to Billion Dollar Baby, but this musical about a gold digger making her way through man after man wasn't wildly and popularly received, and this female pal Joey just sort of faded away. No matter, they were busy adapting good news into a screenplay, and their popularity in Hollywood was so legendary that the East Coast press began telling people a new Comden and Green musical would be in the 1947-1948 Broadway season, and it would be produced by Feigei and Smith. From the New York Times, August 20, 1947. The Betty Comden-Adolph Green musical revolving around the Alaskan gold rush of 1898, first on the agenda, of Paul, Feigei, and Oliver Smith, is rapidly nearing completion.
If present arrangements hold, the show should be on the local boards by mid-December. Mr. Feigei said yesterday that rehearsals have been scheduled to begin October 15th. The world premiere will take place at New Haven November 20th, to be followed by a three-week stand at Philadelphia's Forest Theater, variously known as Free-For-All, and Gold Diggers of 1898. The entertainment now bears the title of Bonanza Bound. Free-For-All was dropped when it was discovered to be the name of another play, The Ralph Rose Jr., satire on communism in which Brock Pemberton is interested. Pat Marshall is said to be in the running for the leading feminine lead. She has been seen here in past seasons in The Day Before Spring and Hats Off to Ice.
[12:42] Robert W. Schneider: If I'm remembering it correctly, Lucy and Ethel have had a fight. No, no, no. Yeah, they've had a fight, and they somehow both go to see Over the Teacups! He's so excited. They got tickets to Over the Teacups, Lucy! And, like, while they're there, Lucy and Ethel start, like, crying because, like, the broken-up friendship, whatever. Anyway. Just so you know. If anyone was curious, the show was called The Cup of Trembling, a sequel to Over the Teacups, which was a prequel to Not Without My Dishwater, starring Sally Field. But Hollywood knew what it had in Comden & Green, and offered them a really lucrative deal to write the screenplay for Easter Holiday, an Irving Berlin vehicle with Judy Garland, Gene Kelly, and Frank Sinatra held.
They could even write it in New York. No matter the perks, it wasn't a live show, so they turned it down. Yes, can you imagine turning down a movie like that? Broadway was in their blood. Finally, in May of 1947, it was announced in the trades that the new Comden & Green musical would hit Broadway in January of 1948. The show would be called Gold Diggers of 1898, it'd have a book and lyrics by Comden & Green, and the music would be written by Saul Chaplin, a newcomer to Broadway, but in no way a newcomer to composition, having composed the scores to 16 movies when he had met the team, whom he quickly fell in love with. How could you not? Betty Comden, Adolph Green. You might recognize these two Chaplin songs, a man adept at both composition and lyric writing. By me, Bisty Shane, please let me explain. By me, Bisty Shane, means you're grand. Oh, how we danced on the night we were wed. We vowed our true love the world.
[14:37] Robert W. Schneider: So, this mighty trio sat down and began to craft a show, a show that looked at a topic that had always been tricky for musical theater writers, even though it seems like a wealth of riches. The gold rush. Yes, that moment of get-rich-quick in the 1800s in Western territories, hereto unexplored. When gold was everywhere, and if you worked hard enough and dug deep enough, you too could be on Easy Street. There was Paint Your Wagon, an audience success but not a financial one. Foxy, don't even ask. Stephen Sondheim's never-been-to-Broadway Bounce, plus Alaskan Stampede. Movie musicals seemed to deal with the gold rush better, with Bell of the Yukon and Road to Utopia. Perhaps one needed to see the dirtiness of the Yukon up close and personal, because the stage doesn't seem to capture the excitement, earthiness, and greed that is essential to tell this particular story.
And this story was a doozy, and like the best Comden and Green shows, it was looking back on the past, a stylized past. The show opens on a delightful Eskimo family, enjoying their day and their simple life with their little fish. Yes, that's the name of the opening number, Little Fish. And honestly, kudos to this team, because musicals used to start back then with big ensemble numbers, so to start it simple and quaint, that's actually pretty groundbreaking. Well, their song isn't even over when their entire little piece of ice is taken over by a horde of excited miners, all looking for gold anywhere they can, and in the middle of this is a Victorian melodramatic villain, Crookshank. This is from the stage directions of Bonanza Bound.
[16:07] Robert W. Schneider: The music gets more frenetic, and more people come on. Entering at this point is an outstanding figure. Dressed somewhat differently from the rest of the prospectors, he is noticeable at once, by his forceful mien, big cigar, and big black hat. It is Waldo Crookshank, arch-villain and opportunist. Crookshank is a man of infinite ambition and contempt for people. But he is not one of those crude, hulking villains who rely on pure brawn. He has great style and polish, uses colorful, rather refined speech, but at the same time has a volatile temper and is given to wild fits of rage. Even at his most controlled, he gives the impression of a steam boiler about to explode. A man of about forty-five or so, he has tremendous energy, and is rather attractive in a sinister way.
He is the essence of villainy. Comic, but completely believable. At this moment, he stops suddenly. He watches them go. With him is a kind of henchman, hunk, who now runs ahead. Waldo has an idea. He won't travel to more out-of-the-way places looking for gold like Dawson City. No. He will create, out of thin air, a fake gold strike and will defraud innocent prospectors. To do that, he needs to create his own town. Anyone can whistle? Anybody? With fake gold. And therefore, Crookshank Town, Alaska, is created. Once again, that's Crookshank Town, Alaska, off of I-95. If you've hit the Waffle House, you've gone too far. If you actually have hit the Waffle House, there's a lawsuit.
[17:38] Robert W. Schneider: We then flash forward a year. Waldo is rolling in gold. Others aren't, but he is. He sells newspapers from New York City for $15, and when his assistant tells him, uh, but these newspapers are six months old, he says, oh, up to the minute news? Charge them $20. And interrupting Waldo's life is an eager young poet, a man looking for adventure. His name is Peter, and boy is he down on his luck. So down on his luck that Waldo brings him on as a janitor. The more Peter cleans, the more supplies he can take to go look for gold somewhere else. That's the deal. Then, as always, complications arise. The Versatile Da Vinci's, that's the name, the Versatile Da Vinci's have come to Crookshank to entertain at the saloon, and the hottest thing is their lead singer, Belinda, and her goofy sister, Tootles.
Obsessed. Her name is Tootles. Well, Tootles Da Vinci. As I live and breathe. I didn't realize you were over here anymore, Tootles Da Vinci. What have you been up to? Oh, good for you. See you later. Tootles. No, no, don't turn around. I'm just saying Tootles, Tootles. Why don't we just say goodbye?
[19:11] ♪ Musical number: "Every Girl Has a Love Ideal" — performed by Robert W. Schneider ♪
[19:46] Robert W. Schneider: Well, Peter falls in love with Belinda, and Crookshank falls in love with Belinda, and no one loves Tootles. Now that's the title from a musical. No one loves Tootles. Starring Maureen Stapleton. And Janet Van de Graaff. Peter can't take it anymore. He grabs Belinda, and he kisses her. Now, in modern day, Peter grabbing Belinda and planting one on her without consent would be problematic, but in 1947 that was a cue for a ballad. Hit it!
[22:39] Robert W. Schneider: And this is followed by the lusty drinking song that is a staple of saloons across America, especially saloons with twinks posing as minors.
[22:47] ♪ Musical number: "I've Been a Month on the Marsh" — performed by Robert W. Schneider ♪
[25:25] Robert W. Schneider: In the original script, there's a typo that I like, so I'm going to read this to you. Here's the typo from that song. Tell me if you can see what the problem is. To the gals, to the gals, up from Dawson to Nome. To the gold, to the gold, that has made us leave Homo. I think it's supposed to be home, but it's typed out as Homo, and trust me, these guys ain't leaving Homo anytime soon. Anyway, Peter promises Belinda that they will leave this horrible town together in two weeks, but soon an Eskimo comes in and finds gold in the mouth of a fish he has caught. Wait, there is gold along the river upstream. Peter delays leaving, which doesn't sit too well with Belinda. Belinda doesn't have time to linger in this, because she needs the money Cruikshank owes her family, so he tells her to come up to his office to get it, alone. And when she arrives, she tells him what a pig he is, and he explains he's not a pig. He's simply misunderstood.
[27:14] Robert W. Schneider: I must consume my passion as an impulse to deflower you. Believe me, I'm basically good. All my life I've been misunderstood. When I was a lad, as most urchins will, I was swooned to play hooky from school. On just such a day, the dear school was blown up, and they found TNT with the fuel. To my utter surprise, they came round to my house and found TNT under my bed. As they led me away to reform school that day, I displaced my accusers and said, Oh, misunderstood. I may not be misunderstood. Circumstantial evidence may look pretty good, but I'm still misunderstood. I used to admire the face of Abe Lincoln, and painted it many a time, on green and white paper, of five in each quarter, to give them to friends with no crime.
I was very much hurt when the government claimed that each one was a count of his notes. Though I cried like a babe, I just love honest Abe. I was guilty by general vote. Oh, misunderstood. I'm an artist! Misunderstood. Circumstantial evidence may look pretty good, but I'm still misunderstood. A red-headed friend of mine went for long trips, and he asked me to look up his wife. They say she was blonde, but I really don't know, for I never saw her in my life. To my utter chagrin, this same friend of mine tried to shoot off my head with a gat. For their baby was born on a bright frosty morn, with black hair, black moustache, and black hat. Oh, misunderstood. He's a bloodshed! Misunderstood. Circumstantial evidence may look pretty good, but I'm still misunderstood.
[29:47] Robert W. Schneider: Just as Cruikshank takes Belinda in his arms, Peter returns, sees this, and scorns Belinda. Now, you think this would be a nice place to end Act One, right? But one of the issues with Bonanza Bound is that Comden and Green stuffed it with subplots. There's a rich dowager and her butler who have come for an adventure. Cruikshank's horny daughter, Eustasia, who lusts for Belinda's brother, Leonardo, a gambler. In order to keep Belinda, Cruikshank tricks Leonardo in a game of cards, meaning the Da Vinci's owe $65,000, but they can work it off by appearing at the saloon. For free. For 12 years. But Belinda won't allow that to happen. She is going to look for gold. $65,000 worth. And that will buy her family's freedom. OK, that's a good place to end Act One. Act Two picks up as everyone is now on the hunt for either more gold or Belinda. Peter finds her and promises her that he will save her from Cruikshank.
[30:43] ♪ Musical number: "Look at Us" — performed by Robert W. Schneider ♪
[31:38] ♪ Musical number: "Spring" — performed by Robert W. Schneider ♪
[33:13] Robert W. Schneider: Their love is dashed because Cruikshank finds them and threatens to shoot Peter if Belinda isn't returned to him so he can marry her and make her the Queen of Alaska. Belinda plays along and says she never wants to see Peter, Leonardo, or Tootles ever again. Tootles, Tootles! Cruikshank throws a ball to celebrate and invites everyone who is everyone to come. However, three strangers, the brothers Karamazov, crash. Psst, it's really Peter, Leonardo, and Tootles, but don't tell anybody. All hell breaks loose and everyone gets separated, which gives Leonardo and Eustasia time to be together. Peter! Belinda! They're not here. Maybe they didn't get away. Oh, I'm sure they did. When we left, Daddy looked ready to throw in the towel. He was panting hard. I would have stayed and helped them, but I don't know how to fight. Don't worry, they'll be here any minute. Oh, I'm no good. I think you're wonderful.
[34:11] Robert W. Schneider: You do? I think you'll be a great man someday. Aw, I didn't even stay and fight. But you're not meant to be a brutal man of action. You're an artist. I am? Of course. When I get back to the States with you, you're going to be the greatest actor in the world. I am? But not without me. You're going to join the act? No, I'm going to be your inspiration. Oh. I'm going to travel all over with the act. I'll mend your socks, rehearse you in your lives, collect your salary. Why, no man has ever become great without that little woman by his side, believing in him, leading him on, inspiring him. Leonard, I'm your little woman. I'm your inspiration. You are? Hit it.
[35:05] ♪ Musical number: "Inspiration" — performed by Robert W. Schneider ♪
[36:47] Robert W. Schneider: Ludwig von Beethoven long, long ago wrote four big symphonies all in a row. Ah, but the fifth one he could not create. He was worried because his lady friend was giving him the gate. But suddenly, out of her scorn, Beethoven fifth was born. Ludwig von Beethoven, you here again? Liebchen, I, I love you. Ludwig, uh-uh-uh. But Liebchen. La-la-la-la. But Liebchen, have pity. Leave me alone. Get out of here. Leave you alone? Get out of here? Yes, get out of here? Dun-dun-dun-dun. Yes, that's it. My fifth symphony. She was an inspiration. She was the inspiration behind every conflict and aim.
[37:53] Robert W. Schneider: Samuel Morse, the inventor of fame, worked on the telegraph. That was his aim. But his machine only gave forth a screech. He was sure it wouldn't work, for it could not make human speech. But suddenly, his nagging wife brought the Morse code to life. What am I going to do with this machine? What am I going to do? Samuel Morse, why don't you spend all your time tinkering away with that fool's thing? Why don't you go out and earn an honest buck? But what if you do send it to Washington? New York to Washington. Washington to New York. What's that? Please, please. I'm trying to work. Work? You call that work? All day long. I think I could have married that butcher. I had plenty of chance. Believe me, believe me. I had plenty of chance. I would have to marry him. I'm not going to marry him. Shut up or I'll shut you up. Yes, that's it! The Morse code!
[38:08] ♪ Musical number: "A Trial of the Heart" — performed by Unknown performer ♪
[40:24] Robert W. Schneider: Meanwhile, Peter and Belinda are about to leave when Belinda says she's sorry Peter came and didn't find gold. Yes, he did. He found her and stakes his claim where they first met. Oh, isn't that sentimental? She's like, you didn't find gold. And he's like, I did. It's you. And, you know, then we're going to put a little stake here just to say this is where we met. They are interrupted, however, with Crookshank, who has a bomb. And when the bomb goes off, hurting no one because it's a musical, it reveals a massive gold vein in a mountainside, the same mountain where Peter just staked his claim. The show ends the same way it started with the entire community moving out, leaving our happy Eskimo family back in front of their igloo as the curtain falls.
[41:19] Robert W. Schneider: OK, so this outline makes it actually sound tighter than it is, but there are some big problems with this particular show. Peter is kind of a non-entity. Crookshank is either laughable or dangerous, but never both. So the tone is really off. We don't know if we're supposed to laugh with them or be scared of them. And the scenes involving the other characters seem like they're shoehorned in and there's no real payoff to any of it. In fact, you could cut everyone but Peter, Belinda, sorry, Peter, Belinda and Crookshank — it's a law firm — and still have the show. Betty Comden even said that they did the gold rush because it gave them carte blanche to put whatever they wanted into the show. Oh boy.
[42:01] Robert W. Schneider: But someone like George Abbott, Mr. Abbott, the great director, he could whip this thing into shape, right? Except he wasn't going to direct Gold Diggers of 1898. Actually, no one was going to direct Gold Diggers of 1898 because Warner Bros. said they owned that term, Gold Diggers. So the show then became free-for-all and then eventually became the more specific Bonanza Bound. So, who should direct it? Someone who could whip a show into shape, keep it moving, keep it fast, keep it funny. If you couldn't get Mr. Abbott, who else could you get? Well, it seems the producers took a real chance and got Charles Friedman. Not exactly the most obvious choice because Friedman's biggest hits were Street Scene, that big musical comedy, and Carmen Jones, both very serious pieces. What would he know about an Eskimo running around pulling gold out of salmon?
[42:44] Robert W. Schneider: Well, maybe a strong choreographer would help. Jerome Robbins was not interested, but do you know who was? Jack Cole, a choreographer who made a name for himself in the movies and with Something for the Boys. He'd at least offer a fresh take on the world of Broadway dance. So they were all signed in September of 1947, and as capitalization came through, they decided they would do an out-of-town tryout in Philadelphia in December of 1947. It was at this point that the producers also took on a third producer, Herman Levin, a man who has been a bureaucrat, but he really wanted to be on Broadway, isn't that the way? From bureaucrat to Broadway. And he was determined to get a big star for the amazing role of Waldo Cruikshank. It needed a larger-than-life personality, someone who was witty, acerbic, could be villainous, and also be fun doing it. Someone like Groucho Marx.
[43:36] Robert W. Schneider: So why not Groucho Marx? Well, Groucho, who loved Comden and Green, didn't have the energy to do it, so the role of Cruikshank was open. Who else? Burt Lahr? Ray Bolger? Phil Silvers? Nope. It was going to be George Koulouris, an alumni of Orson Welles' Mercury Theatre. He also played Thatcher in Citizen Kane, if you're a Citizen Kane fan. Would he have the energy and temperament for musical theatre? Well, that's what being on the road is about. Remember, this was before workshops and before people even auditioned, really, with sides from the show. This shows during this time was a lot of, you know, blind faith.
[44:15] Robert W. Schneider: As for Belinda, the leading lady, the newspapers announced it would be movie star Janet Blair, best known for playing Eileen in the movie My Sister Eileen. How ironic later on, right? However, Blair couldn't get out of her studio contract, and British singer Carol Ray took over the role. Supporting player in movies Hal Hackett would be the idealistic Peter, Betty Lou Bartow, Nancy Walker's sister would be Tootles, I wanted that role, the Eskimo would be played by, get this, an actor named Sid Melton. Now, if you don't know Sid Melton, you know Sid Melton. If you're a Golden Girls fan, he's the actor who plays Sal Petrillo, Sophia's husband in the flashbacks. And Adolph Green, can you imagine him as an Eskimo?
Sorry. And Adolph Green would be playing Leonardo opposite his new wife, Anne McLeary, as Eustasia. And in the ensemble, a dancer Jack Cole demanded be in the show, even though her name was spelled oddly, G-W-E-N-N-V-E-R-D-U-N. Yes, had it come in, Bonanza Bound would have been Gwen Verdon's Broadway debut.
[45:17] Robert W. Schneider: The Hirschfeld poster for Bonanza Bound, it's a minor carrying a saloon girl over his shoulder. The saloon girl looks a lot like Verdon, just saying. Rehearsals began November 24th at the Central Opera House on East 67th Street, and every single room there was occupied with a flurry of activity because the premiere was scheduled for December 25th, 1947 at Philadelphia's Schubert Theatre. Think about that, less than a month later, first day of rehearsal, opening night in front of an audience. The rehearsal process was actually documented by a few individuals. Jack Cole sat down with newspaper journalist Vernon Rice and told him about the show, its issues, and how the women in the show were ladies of the evening. Apparently, he used another word, but it was a family newspaper.
[46:08] Robert W. Schneider: What was most surprising was Cole's frankness, that the women of the Yukon were tired and beat up, so how could he put that into a dance and still feel energetic? Cole was known for ethnic dances, and he wanted to include an authentic Eskimo dance, except when he mentioned that Eskimos actually dance naked, the idea was cut, so they had Eskimos just dance around a totem pole, which looked very much like a Freudian wet dream. As Cole admitted to Rice, it wasn't the big dances that scared him, it was the numbers with movement. Mr. Cole? Men singers are against all movement, and women singers get so carried away that they think they are Diosa Costellos. You end up having them lined up like the music hall glee club. I am now on a liquid diet. Always I see in my mind the producers stalking the halls, with the investment hanging heavy over their heads. So I keep a liquid cycle going, coffee, orange juice, milk soup, scotch, and celery juice.
[47:58] Robert W. Schneider: What also didn't help matters was that Jack Cole had a very specific vocabulary and style that was just really unique to himself, so much of the choreography days with him was him teaching his style to the dancers, then teaching the actual dance. But what was exciting for those who loved dance was for the first time, Cole was not creating in a vacuum like in ballet. He needed movement that fit a predetermined situation, so kind of exciting. A wonderful magazine, Theatre Arts, which was published monthly in their February 1948 edition, chronicled the show's journey, oblivious to the fact that it would not come into Broadway. Written by Hermine Rich Isaacs, the article was titled A Musical Takes Shape, and this is how Rich set the scene.
[48:43] Robert W. Schneider: The top floor ballroom, dominated by a raised platform at one end, girdled by a balcony and domed with a distant ceiling of blue and gold, is the scene of the dance rehearsals. Here, Jack Cole, lean, concentrated, mercurial, works out his routines, while Ray Barr, the show pianist, beats out the notes on a honky-tonk piano. Here the youthful ensemble Twenty Strong learn the dance pattern slowly, painfully, for Cole uses parts of the body they never knew they had, following the choreographer through his motions ten times, twenty times, thirty, his rapidly pulsing, mounting beat pressing harder and faster as he goes. On the floor below, Layman Engle holds court with his twenty singers in a barn of a room whose wall's throwback sounds like an echo chamber. The chorus is up on the score by now, and Engle's baton plies the musical beat with the unerring tempo, the easy rubato of the polished musician.
[49:35] Robert W. Schneider: Round-faced and beaming, he stands with his back to a painted bandstand in which, as likely as not, the composer Saul Chaplin is perched, singing cheerfully along with the cast. This is all one big romp for Chaplin, who has escaped a confinement of years as composer, conductor, arranger for Hollywood musicals. Since the films do not encourage a musician to meddle in the other elements of production, he is inclined to get mystified and lonely. Now as Chaplin dashes in and out of rehearsals, he reminds us of nothing so much as the tuba player in the pit of the Metropolitan, the one who went to the opera on his night off. The next day he reported in astonishment to the other tubas, you know the part in Carmen where we go oom-pa, oom-pa? Well, the rest of the orchestra is going da-dun-da-dun-dun-da.
[50:21] Robert W. Schneider: Across the hall from the singing, the book rehearsals proceed in the ladies' lounge. Stripped of most of its red plush furnishings, this emporium still retains a memory of its former glory in mirrored walls and two rose-painted statues of figures of indeterminate sex, very neoclassic. Occasionally, as the director Charles Friedman puts his principles through a scene, a singer from the neighboring room, or a dancer leotard-clad, slips quietly through to the functional part of the lounge, like a character in a Tennessee Williams play. Yet despite its amiable depth to the past, there is nothing old-fashioned about the way Bonanza Bound comes together as a show. It has all the tangled interrelationships of a modern musical.
Gone is the ancient and comfortable pattern of separate songs and dances and gags, hitched loosely together on a time progression. Now the music underlies the whole show, the dances weave in and around the book, and the songs grow organically out of the story. The separation between the various rehearsing units is more or less illusory, since they are constantly shifting and merging as the show congeals into final form. Bonanza Bound is even more modern than yesterday, for it has no pure ballets, no private agonies for the choreographer while the singers and actors relax offstage. Jack Cole must choreograph every number for a singing as well as a dancing chorus, and for principals who have never faced a knee bend in their lives. Since the stage picture carries as much of the burden of entertainment as the dialogue, the script bears as much resemblance to a movie scenario as it does to a play.
[50:52] Robert W. Schneider: Back at the Central Opera House, it is a gloomy Sunday afternoon in the third week of rehearsals.
[50:59] Robert W. Schneider: On the top floor, Jack Cole is pushing hard to make up for the time he lost at the outset training unaccustomed dancers to his vocabulary of motion.
[51:06] Robert W. Schneider: The dancing schools spend all their time stretching their legs, he complains, and forget to make dancers of them.
[51:12] Robert W. Schneider: Only Dick Reed of the Ballet Theatre and Gwen Verdon, a Degas ballerina with a boogie-woogie style, came to the first rehearsal with sufficient technique to pick up Cole's dance cues as he gives them.
[51:22] Robert W. Schneider: They are working on a routine to back up the song number, Fill Her Up, which takes place in an outsized Alaskan barroom.
[51:29] Robert W. Schneider: Out of the ingredients of his own style, Cole has made a witty commentary on burlesque dance.
[51:34] Robert W. Schneider: He is a deadpan humorist, introducing each sly new turn with barely the promise of a smile.
[51:40] Robert W. Schneider: Seldom off his feet, he plots out each pattern for the others to follow and then repeats and again repeats.
[51:46] Robert W. Schneider: Cole works like a painter, first blocking in the background, then filling in details one by one, until the whole surface is alive with movement.
[51:55] Robert W. Schneider: Often he fools you, says my friend Tony, chorus boy and philosopher.
[51:59] Robert W. Schneider: You think you have a solo, and then by the time he is finished, the whole stage is full of people.
[52:05] Robert W. Schneider: Tony is right. When Cole is through, the stage is writhing, jumping, beating, a frenetic display of leaps and knee bends, mobile torsos and low-bar curved backs, of interlocked patterns and split-second timing.
[52:17] Robert W. Schneider: In the ladies' lounge, there is a lull while the authors, crouched over a typewriter in an adjoining room, dash off a new ending to the scene in which the bonanza load is discovered.
[52:27] Robert W. Schneider: This is the way it should be, says Freedman. A show has to change in rehearsal as you see how it fits on a stage.
[52:33] Robert W. Schneider: Watch out for a script that is set at the beginning. It will be dead by the end.
[52:39] Robert W. Schneider: Finally, the authors emerge. The cast sits down in a half-circle while Freedman reads the revisions and the players take notes.
[52:46] Robert W. Schneider: Then the actors read the scene the new way, first from notes, then from memory, then once again on their feet.
[52:52] Robert W. Schneider: It is late in the afternoon and working Sundays are dreary days. The readings are desultory, the gestures half-hearted and incomplete.
[53:00] Robert W. Schneider: Suddenly, George Coulery cracks wise, a topical gag that was certainly not in the script.
[53:06] Robert W. Schneider: The cast laughs and picks it up. Adolph Green does a whimsical dance turn and Betty Comden mugs on the sidelines.
[53:12] Robert W. Schneider: They go into the scene again and now they throw themselves into their parts, boisterous, jubilant, bristling with gestures and expression.
[53:20] Robert W. Schneider: When they come to the song at the end, they are all projecting in full voice.
[53:24] Robert W. Schneider: True, what do you know, it's true, they sing.
[53:27] Robert W. Schneider: Layman Engle picks up his baton and leads them. Chaplin pounds his cane on the floor in time to the music.
[53:33] Robert W. Schneider: And next to us on the red plush couch, Paul Fege grins and sings and taps out the beat with his foot.
[53:39] Robert W. Schneider: One of the rose-colored statues sways giddily.
[53:42] Robert W. Schneider: Unlike what the Times had reported, the show would not try out in New Haven and Philadelphia, just Philadelphia, and it would open on Christmas.
[53:49] Robert W. Schneider: But technical elements delayed the show and it opened on December 26th, 1947.
[53:55] Robert W. Schneider: The next morning was not a good one for those involved with Bonanza Bound.
[53:59] Robert W. Schneider: Variety magazine. It had been widely rumored the show wasn't ready and should have been held back until a still later date.
[54:06] Robert W. Schneider: But a couple of days or even a couple of weeks work wouldn't be enough to put this one in the running for Broadway.
[54:11] Robert W. Schneider: If the yarn were played in a tongue-in-the-cheek fashion, it might have merit, but presented straight, it is silly, unbelievable burlesque without humor, flavor, or entertainment.
[54:20] Robert W. Schneider: It is hard to figure how this one can ever be whipped into shape for any real degree of success.
[54:25] Robert W. Schneider: The Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. Bonanza Bound is, we're afraid, stricken by a dull book and ailing lyrics.
[54:33] Robert W. Schneider: This is all the more surprising since its authors are Adolph Green and Betty Comden.
[54:38] Robert W. Schneider: This talented team wrote On the Town a couple of seasons ago, but little momentum from that sprightly success has carried over to their new one.
[54:47] Robert W. Schneider: Where do you go from here? It was literally, nope, this ain't working.
[54:52] Robert W. Schneider: So what to do? The New York Times, December 31st, 1947, New Year's Eve.
[54:58] Robert W. Schneider: Whatever became of that threatened booking jam, like magic, it evaporated into thin air.
[55:05] Robert W. Schneider: More and more Broadway houses are becoming available, so the congestion has eased up considerably.
[55:10] Robert W. Schneider: On top of that, many of the shows trying out aren't ready for the supreme test.
[55:14] Robert W. Schneider: Rather than risk it, some of the attractions that are undergoing trial engagements on the road are thinking of suspending operations a while, just to be on the safe side.
[55:23] Robert W. Schneider: Bonanza Bound gave in in Philadelphia on its first performance after a night's delay.
[55:28] Robert W. Schneider: It was to go to Boston in January and open here January 29th.
[55:32] Robert W. Schneider: Yesterday, Herman Levin, Paul Feige, and Oliver Smith admitted the musical would close down temporarily Saturday night for repairs.
[55:39] Robert W. Schneider: It has to be rewritten and recast.
[55:42] Robert W. Schneider: Confronting management is can they find the right musical performer to succeed George Coloris, whose ability in the dramatic field is unquestioned?
[55:50] Robert W. Schneider: Efforts were made to have Willie Howard step into the part, but he was said to be snowbound in the Catskills.
[55:55] Robert W. Schneider: How soon Bonanza Bound is picked up again depends on how quickly the revisions are made.
[56:00] Robert W. Schneider: On January 3rd, for the first and only time in their lives, Betty Comden and Adolph Green had a musical close on the road.
[56:04] Robert W. Schneider: Betty looked back on that experience.
[56:11] Betty Comden: It was not a good show. It had some lovely things in the score. Beautiful music by Saul Chaplin. But we just made too many mistakes and it was a disaster.
[56:28] Betty Comden: That was 1947 and about 20 years ago, someone came over to me in the theater and he said, I was in Bonanza Bound and I had this pang. I said, I'm sorry.
[56:44] Betty Comden: He said, do you remember that on closing night? You and Mr. Green were so nice. You got up and performed for us for about an hour.
[56:55] Betty Comden: We did it out of pure guilt. We entertained them and then we said, now look, this show could be wonderful and we're going to work on it. We really are and we're going to save it somehow.
[57:10] Betty Comden: That was in 1947. So 20 years ago, this guy came over to me and he said, is it all right if I take another job now? Perhaps they would come back to it.
[57:23] Betty Comden: Mr. Abbott was now free and available and he did tinker with it, but nothing seemed to happen with it.
[57:28] Betty Comden: Every couple of years, the newspapers would be like, Bonanza Bound is coming. But I think eventually people started catching on that it wasn't coming because the producer sold all the costumes.
[57:38] Betty Comden: The costumes originally cost $48,000 and the producer sold it to a rental house for $2,500. So there's a loss for you.
[57:45] Betty Comden: Now, here's a bit of trivia for you. On the Town did not receive an original cast recording, nor did Billion Dollar Baby. But Bonanza Bound did.
[57:54] Betty Comden: In fact, it was advertised in the programs and playbills that pretty soon eager listeners could return to The Great Score any time they wanted.
[58:05] Betty Comden: Why? Well, the American Federation of Musicians was rumored to go on strike in the beginning of the new year. So if you were a spring show in 1948, you needed to record your show before the strike.
[58:17] Betty Comden: So a few days before they left for Philly and two days after Bonanza Bound opened, the cast recorded the show.
[58:23] Betty Comden: But when it closed in Philly, RCA opted not to release the album as it was of no value. To them, at least. To show queens like us, however? Huh?
[58:32] Betty Comden: There was hope in 1965 because RCA was going to release a bunch of its older cast recordings and at this point Comden and Green were a very well-known entity.
[58:41] Betty Comden: Leading the cause to have it released was historian Miles Kruger who said that this album could be the most talked-about show album of the season, a kind of reclaimed treasure.
[58:52] Betty Comden: In 1976, Box Office Records finally released eight songs from the album, along with some material from the reviewers.
[58:58] Betty Comden: Throughout their years performing their own material in an evening with Comden and Green, they would sing Inspiration, rarely mentioning the show from which it came.
[59:05] Betty Comden: But the writers were not ashamed of Bonanza Bound. Years later, when asked how did he know he was a professional, Adolph Green recounted after the show closed he was at Sardi's and someone asked what went wrong.
[59:16] Adolph Green: And he said, we had an idea for a show and it wasn't very good. They didn't blame anyone. Themselves. They took the responsibility.
[59:24] Adolph Green: And that was when I knew I was a real theater professional.
[59:30] Robert W. Schneider: Could Bonanza Bound have come in? Of course. Would it have gotten better? Probably not with this particular creative team.
[59:37] Robert W. Schneider: What makes this show so interesting is that most writers tend to sputter a little bit in their later years. And we don't have to necessarily say creatively, we're talking about, like, in terms of how the audience reacts and how critics react.
[59:49] Robert W. Schneider: Think of Stephen Sondheim with Bounce at the end of his career, Kander and Ebb with The Skin of Our Teeth at the end of their careers, Andrew Lloyd Webber with Whistle Down the Wind.
[59:57] Robert W. Schneider: These were two writers who were going to be big. And perhaps the lessons that they learned on Bonanza Bound helped shape a career that was littered with hits.
[1:00:07] Robert W. Schneider: Drunk off the power and praise from On the Town, like Betty Comden said, they threw everything in the kitchen sink into the show.
[1:00:14] Robert W. Schneider: That's fine, that's what writers do, but that's when a director, a director who is focused and taught like George Abbott, gets rid of the fat.
[1:00:21] Robert W. Schneider: A lot of the script of Bonanza Bound does feel like review sketches, the dowager and her butler mining for gold, the Eskimo going fishing. And these scenes were inserted, like, randomly throughout the show.
[1:00:31] Robert W. Schneider: In the middle of a big climactic moment in Act One, we suddenly spend eight pages watching the rich old lady and her butler, like, settling in and trying to find ways to survive outside of their urban world.
[1:00:43] Robert W. Schneider: Abbott would have moved it so it didn't interrupt the action. It literally comes as everyone is literally chasing Peter when he abandons Belinda.
[1:00:49] Robert W. Schneider: Or he would have spread that joke out over the course of the play or just demand that they cut it.
[1:00:54] Robert W. Schneider: Had someone like Abbott worked on it and they had found a real bona fide comedian to take on the role of Crookshank, like Groucho Marx or Burt Lahr, Bonanza Bound would have been more than just Broadway bound.
[1:01:04] Robert W. Schneider: But think about this. When Bonanza Bound flopped, Comden and Green were very disheartened and decided to try their luck in Los Angeles again.
[1:01:12] Robert W. Schneider: So they moved back out to Hollywood and that's when they started working as screenwriters, also, like, establishing more of their street cred.
[1:01:21] Robert W. Schneider: So believe it or not, had Bonanza Bound succeeded, we might never have had Singing in the Rain. And for me, that's a pretty good swap.
[1:01:29] Robert W. Schneider: Okay? Sorry, Bonanza Bound. If you remember at the beginning of this episode, I was talking a little bit about how it irks me that Comden and Green don't really get the recognition they deserve.
[1:01:38] Robert W. Schneider: There's another team that does not get the recognition that they deserve. A team that wanted to challenge conventions.
[1:01:45] Robert W. Schneider: And they did, sometimes incredibly successfully, and sometimes unsuccessfully. Their names were Tom Jones and Harvey Schmidt.
[1:01:52] Robert W. Schneider: And the musicals that were successful? The Fantastics, 110 in the Shade, I Do, I Do. And a musical that was not successful, even though it had their best score that we will never, ever hear.
[1:02:05] Robert W. Schneider: That musical is called Grover's Corners. And that's the musical we'll be talking about next time. Bye-bye.
[1:02:18] Robert W. Schneider: Hi, friends. Thank you so much for listening to another episode of Broadway Bound, the musicals that never came to Broadway.
[1:02:24] Robert W. Schneider: Just a reminder that it takes a lot of research and assistance to get these episodes produced, and any financial assistance is always appreciated.
[1:02:31] Robert W. Schneider: If you like what we are doing, please head over to robwschneider.com. That's R-O-B-W-S-C-H-N-E-I-D-E-R dot com.
[1:02:40] Robert W. Schneider: Click the tab that says AMTA. That stands for the American Musical Theater Archives.
[1:02:45] Robert W. Schneider: And make a tax-deductible donation to keep shows like this one on the air.
[1:02:50] Robert W. Schneider: Oh my gosh, I sound so much like PBS right now. I am so sorry.
[1:02:54] Robert W. Schneider: And sadly, I can't even send you a tote bag. But I can wave energetically if I see you on the street.
[1:02:59] Robert W. Schneider: And isn't that worth the price of a donation alone? Actually, donate to PBS. That way they can send you a tote bag.
[1:03:05] Robert W. Schneider: And you can put it over your head, so nobody sees me waving at you if you're really ashamed and embarrassed of my vociferous energy.
[1:03:12] Robert W. Schneider: Once again, robwschneider.com. Click AMTA. Make a tax-deductible donation. And I will be forever grateful.
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