WHAT WE FIND IN THIS ATTIC
IS A CASE OF THE CUTES
It was a privilege to witness Snapshots: A Musical Scrapbook at Northlight Theatre, for this reviewer has never seen anything like it before. An omnibus of previously published Stephen Schwartz songs (not trunk songs, mind you, but songs taken from formerly produced shows) has been incorporated into a bittersweet and charming but cloying new book by David Stern in which a middle-aged couple reminisces in their attic about their brittle marriage. While some songs have been lifted intact, others had lyrics re-written by the ex-wunderkind himself to fit the narrative.
Those unfamiliar with Schwartz’ vast repertoire will no doubt be pleasantly surprised by the hummable tunes and accessibly unchallenging lyrics – which are mostly clever and rarely banal, yet with a consistent containment of perfect rhymes, internal and otherwise. However, to those in the know—that is, to those with a 
previous knowledge of the Schwartz oeuvre (ahem)—the collection vacillates between extraordinarily clever reinterpretations of largely unknown songs to downright bemusement and shock that some songs are astoundingly unbefitting to the proceedings.
Sue (Susie McMonagle) has packed her bag and written a goodbye note to husband Dan (Gene Weygandt); his sudden appearance in the attic startles her and she conveniently knocks over a box of photos, which propels them on a Rashomon-like stroll down memory lane, revisiting their adolescence as Susie (Megan Long) and Danny (Nick Cosgrove), and later as young adults Susan (Jess Godwin) and Daniel (Tony Clarno). The wife’s note, which states how they have irreparably grown apart, is pocketed for later (the oversimplistic justification for their emotional separation turns out to be, basically, that he works too much and she wants to be an artist).
The press release tells us that Snapshots will “bring into focus the wonders and frustrations of trusting your heart and believing your memories.” Treacly, yes? While there are some truly spirited, fun, engaging, and touching moments, this mixture of melodies brings into focus the wonders and frustrations of American Musical Theatre attempting to reinvent itself.
During the overture (magical and astounding new arrangements by Steve Orich), 12 Schwartz show titles appeared on the screens that make up the rear of the attic (lovely projection by Mike Tutaj); from Broadway (Pippin and Wicked) to pre-Broadway tryouts (The Baker’s Wife) to the opaque (Reluctant Pilgrim), the device seemed to serve as a warning that this would be more of a love-letter to a prodigious composer/lyricist than a fresh, new musical. While one of my theatergoing companions found it impressive and inspiring, my other companion and myself were turned-off by the shameless self-promotion that told us the creators were not taking themselves seriously enough to create something wholly new.
Snapshots is not a showcase, as the collection of tunes is not always Schwartz’ best work; it’s not a jukebox musical, as it does not incorporate familiar tunes; it’s not a revue because songs were re-written to suit an overly sentimental book; and it’s not an original book musical. Considering that songs were lifted from 12 shows, one could call this an appreciation. Ultimately it is befitting that Schwartz himself calls it a “curious hybrid.”
Ken Sawyer’s direction is astute and clever while Karl Christian’s musical staging can be infectiously fun. All of the actors did a tremendous job, although the older pair, McMonagle and Weygandt, either skirted dangerously close or landed squarely into mawkishness. One of Schwartz’ best-known tunes—“All for the Best” from Godspell—was cleverly used as the way a husband soft-shoes around heavy issues as the wife sarcastically mimics him. Sure, it works on paper. It’s logical and even hints at character development, but it feels like cabaret shtick in a nightclub.
Then, just when all hope seems lost for the floundering concept, “Chanson” (Baker’s Wife) perfectly elucidates how falling in love changes one’s perspective, and the effect is lovely, charming, and altogether touching. “All Good Gifts,” lifted word-for-word from Godspell, is sung when the couple’s baby is born; it seems odd that without mention of religion up to then, Dan begins thanking the Lord, yet the moment is emotionally authentic and sweet.
When the couple first meets and the boy chooses to be with another girl, the unrequited love is summed up in “I Am Not That Girl” from Wicked. Wicked?! The addition of a tune from a current Broadway show was perplexing and erroneous, as we identify that song with Elphaba, not Susie.
It is the last three numbers where the musical failed to bring it all together, beginning with “Code of Silence” (from Reluctant Pilgrim): with such lyrics as “he swallows his confessions” and “she’s got her golf and girlfriends,” it feels superficial and hollow when this eleven o’clock number needs to be the song that plumbs the depths of the reasons behind their disconnection. I wondered if Schwartz was incapable of writing lyrics with the Sondheim-esque psychological insight and complexity necessary to make the final numbers soar. Wrapped in a box of “In Whatever Time We Have” and tied with a ribbon of “So Far,” the show’s neat, tidy, and unchallenging ending sank the possibility of this being anything more than a revue / love letter / appreciation / jukebox / hybrid oddity of a musical.
The truth is that the majority of Schwartz’s shows have books with an identity crisis, so what’s the harm in mixing up songs into a new book? Nothing. It’s great to see a terrific song such as “Lion Tamer” get a home in a new context, since we will likely never see The Magic Show produced again (the awful 1974 musical that would never have run 1,920 performances were it not for the presence of uber-popular magician Doug Henning). Yet, while the songs are fine by themselves (and may even warrant a revue), this musical scrapbook needs to toss the book and concentrate on the scraps.
photos by Michael Brosilow
Snapshots: A Musical Scrapbook
Northlight Theatre
9501 Skokie Blvd in Skokie
ends on October 23, 2011
for tickets, call 847.673.6300 or visit Northlight Theatre
for more shows, visit Theatre in Chicago
