The prophet Nathan (Kenny Morris) crowns the younger David (Ethan Zeph) in David, a New Musical at the AMT Theater.
It’s not hard to appreciate what Albert M. Tapper, the AMT in AMT Theater, and his cowriters are trying to accomplish with David, a New Musical (yes, that’s the title): create a brand-new Big Old Musical, with big tunes, big ensemble, big emotions. The project appears to be very close to Tapper’s heart, and, along with collaborators Gary Glickstein (book and lyrics) and Martha Rosenblatt (book), he has played by the rules of traditional musical-theater storytelling. But his team has made several misjudgments.
David and Michal (Olivia Vadnais) cuddle in one of their quieter moments.
For starters: the opening number should tell you what the show will be about and establish mood. This opener is sung street cries, like in Oliver! or Kismet or Porgy and Bess or The Rothschilds. They’re atmospheric, but all the market cries about sesame, dill, sorrel, citron, figs and wine delay the storytelling. Which, when it finally arrives, has an off-putting ring to it. The Bible’s King David (Timothy Warmen), on his deathbed and not expected to last more than a day, is reconnecting with his son Solomon (Caleb Mathura), then with his best friend, the prophet Nathan (Kenny Morris). For someone deathly ill, he sure sings and dances and argues a lot. Solomon is the dutiful, uninteresting offspring, and Nathan the comic relief. Nathan: “Every single thing will be revealed.” David: “What does that mean?” Nathan: “I don’t know. I’m a prophet, prophets talk like that.” The comic relief could use some comic relief.
The writers are going for a contemporary vernacular, or contemporary to Golden Age Broadway. This can work in Biblical musicals: Jesus Christ Superstar, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Children of Eden. It works less well here, maybe because so few of the jokes land, and the anachronisms become jarring: Did anyone back then really worry about “public relations,” even under a different moniker? “It’s the good guys and the bad, it’s the white hats and the black,” in 1000 B.C.?
Older David (Timothy Warmen) and Nathan argue about David’s imminent funeral.
But what’s more curious, Tapper et al. don’t seem to like their hero much. David, whose memories launch a series of flashbacks featuring a younger incarnation of himself (Ethan Zeph), is a king, a hero, but also a traitor to Israel, allied with Aschich, king of Gath (Jay Aubrey Jones), against King Saul (Danny Arnold). And he’s a faithless husband to Michal (Olivia Vadnais), Saul’s daughter. He does love her brother, Jonathan (Jacob Louchheim); how far that love extends, the subject of much historical speculation, is left open. Their duet does sound awfully affectionate.
But the emotions aren’t consistent. Young David and Michal each say “I love you” almost instantly, and two minutes later she’s singing a bitter diatribe about how he never pays her any attention. Older David and Nathan are like roommates who squabble one minute, then are warm and supportive the next. And there are needless side trips, like a Sodom and Gomorrah ballet, with aggressive red-blue lighting by Mary Ellen Stebbins and Willem Internhoff. This follows a production number saluting “Lovely downtown Sodom, where my bottom hits your bottom”—oh, dear. Beyond that, most of the choreography—by Kyle Pleasant, who also directed—consists of hand-waving.
Caleb Mathura plays Solomon, heir to the throne. Photographs by Russ Rowland.
Tapper, who composed the music unassisted, aims for an old-timey melodic sound: waltzes, march, two-four time, even a tango. He comes close a couple of times, with Saul’s lyrically repetitive “I Do Not Hate Him,” and Michal’s “Something Was Ending” lament, which Pleasant stages with Michal folding a sheet. Vadnais’s Michal is proficient without a lot of pizzazz, and the cast in general does well with the often unfortunate material they’ve been handed. Zeph, with appealing looks and sturdy vocals that transition seamlessly into head voice, could be a leading man to watch, and Warmen is convincingly an older version of him, maintaining his dignity while just standing around witnessing the past, which he does a lot. Arnold is a powerful presence, and no evening with Jay Aubrey Jones could be a total waste. If only he had more to do.
The better biographical musicals have a point of view: Fiorello! was a valentine to then-recent New York history, Barnum was buoyed by the circus motif, Sunday in the Park With George had all that art-isn’t-easy. David just lurches from episode to episode, pausing for irrelevant character songs and too many reprises. The authors clearly have studied their how-to-write-a-musical handbook: Here’s the I-want song, the charm number, the dialogue segueing into larger emotions that justify musical augmentation. They just haven’t turned the material into a coherent whole. Or clarified how the audience is supposed to feel about it.
David, a New Musical plays at AMT Theater (354 West 45th St.) through July 13. Evening performances are 7 p.m. Thursday through Saturday. Matinees are Wednesday and Saturday at 2 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m. For tickets, visit amttheater.ludus.com.
Book: Martha Rosenblatt, Gary Glickstein, Albert Tapper
Music: Albert Tapper
Lyrics: Gary Glickstein, Albert Tapper
Direction & Choreography: Kyle Pleasant
Set: James J. Fenton
Lighting: Mary Ellen Stebbins & Willem Internhoff
Costumes: Ashley Soliman
Sound: Elisabeth Weidner
