more info, via a couple of reviews:
"Is this the best, most exhilarating, most close-to-perpetual dancing ever to grace the Goodspeed Opera House stage?
It certainly could be.
The new stage adaptation of “Summer Stock” at the East Haddam theater has plenty to recommend it in terms of the canny script and the hummable songs. But it’s the dancing that leaves the biggest impression.
The show is jam-packed with choreography from Donna Feore, who also directs, that is thrillingly executed by the cast.
We’re talking: Gravity-defying kicks. Head-spinning turns. Male dancers lifting and tossing and catching the female ones. It runs the gamut from Cossack-dance athleticism to soft shoe grace, tap precision to Lindy hop energy.
How the cast manages to sing after executing these (literally) breathtaking numbers, I have no idea.
And how do they make it through two performances on some days? Amazing.
Also amazing: the fact that they do all this on Goodspeed’s small stage without making the space feel cramped.
So, yes, the dancing is phenomenal. But there’s more to the show than that.
This stage version of “Summer Stock” — which is enjoying its world premiere at Goodspeed — is inspired by the 1950 MGM movie starring Judy Garland and Gene Kelly. Writer Cheri Steinkellner, though, has reimagined the piece in many ways, making it better, stronger and propelled by a more modern sensibility. (Steinkellner’s writing credits range from “Cheers” to the Broadway adaptation of “Sister Act.”)
The foundational story, though, remains the same: A no-nonsense young woman named Jane is trying to save her family farm. Her actress sister (named Gloria in the version at Goodspeed) brings her compatriots to the farm to rehearse a show. Jane first spars with and then starts falling for Gloria’s beau Joe, the production’s director.
Steinkellner has also changed up the score, to great effect. While some tunes from the movie remain, she has pulled others that are in the public domain (such as “Accentuate the Positive,” “Paper Moon” and “It Had to Be You”), and she has woven them perfectly into various plot points and important emotional moments.
As director, Feore makes sure the whole enterprise has a dynamic spirit. It’s a story and a production that brims with optimism and cheerfulness.
Leading the cast is Corbin Bleu, who became famous with his work in “High School Musical” and has gone on to star in several Broadway shows, as Joe. Bleu is a true, and truly talented, triple-threat. He has a warm, welcoming presence as an actor; he also brings an authority to Joe so you believe he’s someone the actors respect and will follow. Bleu’s singing is strong and lustrous, and his dancing — particularly his tremendous tap ability — is … wow.
Arguably the biggest scene-stealer here is Veanne Cox, as the wealthy, snooty owner of huge property surrounding Jane’s. The way she trills dialogue can turn anything into a punchline. She can wave her arms about as her character repeats “l’amour” and generate audience laughs. When her character falls for the egoistic actor Montgomery Leach (played by J. Anthony Crane with Barrymore flair), Cox burbles with girlish romantic giddiness.
Danielle Wade does her own take on the Judy Garland role. She gives Jane a swagger and a tough façade that reveals a more human self during the course of the story. Wade’s most important feature is her voice, which is potent whether she’s finessing a ballad or powering through a big number. While she can’t compete with Garland’s renowned version of “Get Happy” (who could?), Wade does a good job in the number — choreographed and costumed in an homage to the original — that serves as the culmination of the production.
Arianna Rosario gets to play an interesting arc at Gloria. At first, Gloria seems to be a blithe, self-centered actress, but she later shows that she is quite the problem-solving producer. Rosario makes the transformation believable, as if Gloria is finally letting her real self come through.
The scenic design by Wilson Chin suggests the various elements of a Connecticut River Valley farm in the 1950s while still allowing room for the cast to burst into all of those big dance numbers. And the costume design by Tina McCartney provides a fun and functional take on country clothing of the era.
I will say that the second act could be tightened up (we don’t need to see so many beats of the rehearsal process), but, in total, this “Summer Stock” is sensational." [source]
(hooray for most directly explaining gloria's overall arc)
and the next review:
"A throwback to the golden age of Broadway and movie musicals, "Summer Stock" is a timeless, inspiring song-and-dance tale of good deeds, fairy tale showbiz, classic romance and backstage intrigue played out to such dazzling effect, you want to freeze frame it, take it home with you and watch it over and over again for pure fun and a let's-put-a-smile-on-your-face endorsement.
This is Goodspeed Musicals at its best - old-fashioned musical entertainment designed to deliver by the bucket's load, stir the senses, rhythmically intoxicate you and dance up a continual storm of good cheer that's guaranteed to leave you breathless.
Animated.
Airborne.
Magical.
Sweet-natured.
Fresh-faced.
Dance happy.
It's all here, wrapped up in shiny gold ribbons and signature colors that complement and complete the picture with a technicolor flourish, a big bang and an internal logic that flows with appropriate style, stamina, full command and intent.
Adapted to the stage by Cheri Steinkellner, "Summer Stock" replays that popular let's- put-on-a-show conceit where everything rests of the big opening night, the box-office intake, the big kiss between the leading man and the leading lady and how a complete unknown saves the day right before the final fadeout.
Here, struggling Connecticut farmer Jane Falbury decides to let her actress sister Abigail and her actor friends from New York use the family barn as a rehearsal space for their brand-new Broadway bound musical in exchange for doing the daily farm chores to raise enough money to keep the business from going completely under.
One slight problem.
During rehearsals, Jane finds herself falling for the show's handsome director, Joe Ross, who, happens to be engaged to the show's leading lady - her sister Abigail.
Staging "Summer Stock," director Donna Feore ("Chicago," "Billy Elliot," "A Chorus Line"), who doubles as choreographer, creates a loveable, intoxicating show that reels you in, grabs hold of you until the final curtain and lets you fall in love with every little detail, surprise, plot twist, joke, visual gag, one-liner and tilt of her jolly agenda while she articulates every element of this musical story with thrust, warmth, spin and splendid articulation.
Directorially, she pulls it off spectacularly.
No wrong moves here as "Summer Stock" catches fire with a spark, a gusto, a shine and a 1950s mentality infused with plenty of imagination, originality, style and flair. More importantly, the production never loses sight of its origins, its functional plotting and its love of musicals of yesteryear despite well-intentioned doses of kitsch, takeaway humor, giddy backchat and story arcs right out of the MGM library of backlot moviemaking.
Feore, free spirit that she is, fuels the musical with a sharpened wit and sentiment that works especially well as does her decision to let "Summer Stock" remain rooted in the period from whence it came in terms of staging, development, expression and interaction.
Moving from screen to stage," "Summer Stock" retains only four songs from the 1950 MGM musical. The addition of several new songs to the original version of the score turns the two-act musical into more of a showstopping event and adds clarity, luster and vintage spin to its already proven material, its let's launch into another song and dance routine blueprint and its firm grasp on characterization, story evolution and its happily ever after conclusion.
At Goodspeed, there are 28 important, recognizable, smartly placed musical numbers. They are: "Get Happy," "Happy Days Are Here Again/I Want to Be Happy," "Accentuate the Positive," "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows," "Always," "Always (reprise)," "It's Only a Paper Moon," "The Best Things in Life Are Free," "Dig for Your Dinner," "Me and My Shadow," "Howdy Neighbor, Happy Harvest," "Red Hot Mama," " 'Til We Meet Again," "You Wonderful You," "June Night," "Some of These Days," "Joe's Dance," "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows (reprise)," "It All Depends on You," "Always (reprise)," "Everybody Step," "Lucky Day," "How Ya Gonna Keep 'Em Down on the Farm," "Hinky-Dinky Parlez Vouz," "It Had to Be You," "Get Happy (reprise)" and "You Wonderful You (Finale)."
Musical director Adam Souza ("42nd Street," "Cabaret," "Next to Normal," "A Grand Night for Singing," "Because of Winn Dixie," "Rags") grabs hold of the "Summer Stock" score and allows it to breathe, gesticulate, excite, envelop and rhapsodize with the golden age sentimentality of MGM movie musicals and the timeless, larger-than-life spirit of old Broadway. Here, every song matters. Every song is important. Every song travels down memory lane. Every song is tuned to the max with sweet, centered, warm-heartedness. Every song fulfills its intended purpose.
All of this is complemented by the strong, flavorful sound of Souza's orchestral team, all of whom share his tremendous sense of theatricality, musical interlude, impassioned communication and delight of the actual musical itself. They are: David Uhl (bass), Sal Ranniello (percussion), Liz Baker Smith (reed 1), Andrew Studenski (reed II), Travis Higgins III (trumpet) and Matthew Russo (trombone). As with other Goodspeed musicals, Souza doubles as conductor and keyboardist.
As "Summer Stock" zings and pops, pretty music every song unfolds with a contagious orchestral musical glow, matched by the splendid musicality of the entire cast who address the catchy, homespun music and lyrics with perfect harmony, rhythm, phrasing and nostalgic commitment. These elements heighten the on-stage mode of the production, its progression from Act I to Act II, its send offs, its pastiche and its electrifying, barn-raising influence and thwack.
As with any big stage musical, choreography is key to a production's success, its fluidity of form, its artistic expression and its accompanying dance routines. Here, Feore, as choreographer, gives "Summer Stock" a highly personal touch of invigoration and speedy excitement that is tipped and generated with wonderfully elongated inspiration, stamina and determination. This is star quality choreography that peaks, shines and tilts with clever build ups, catchy dance steps and bold, concentrated rhythms, moves and beats that joyfully celebrate 1950's musicals in all their technicolor glory.
As storyteller and dance interpreter, she brings great dimension and scope to the piece using techniques, styles, descriptions and an enriched canvas of thoughts and ideas that make their mark most engagingly. Everything that happens on the Goodspeed Musicals stage has been beautifully blocked, rehearsed and staged with such thrust and individuality, no two dance numbers are alike. In fact, once "Summer Stock" catches fire, there's no stopping it.
Creating a freshly minted fusion of moods, tableaus, lifts, twirls and swirls, Feore pays homage to the actual vintage look and mindset of the musical, its dance-friendly art form and its free-flowing feel of excitement and exhilaration.
Hands pop. Arms move heavenward. Dancers smile and glisten as they passionately ignite into joyful visions of sweetness, passion, frenzy and syncopation. Everyone is lost in the moment illustrating the traditions, the conscience and the power of musical theatre, giving and getting the most out of Feore's phenomenal, ovation-worthy choreography.
Trained, drilled and confident, they each get a chance to shine - and shine they do - all making strong impressions that will live long in memory.
Making his Goodspeed Musicals debut, Corbin Bleu, as Joe Ross, a character originated by Gene Kelly in the 1950 film version, creates a "Wow!" song-and-dance-man factor chock full of charm, personality, self-confidence and full-beam, champagne delightness that astounds, cajoles and sparkles with leading man gait and luxury like no other.
No matter what he does, he's a proverbial triple-threat (i.e., a player who excels at acting, singing and dancing) who makes everything that happens on stage feel fresh, spontaneous, real, raw and very much in the moment. It's in his eyes. It's in his moves. It's in his expressions.
Exhibiting a sweet, contagious rapport that extends far beyond the footlights, it's the performance of the year and one that Bleu exudes with a Gene Kelly/Fred Astaire aura of showbiz savvy, knockabout whimsy, graceful athleticism and sterling encapsulation. "Joe's Dance," a solo dance number in Act II performed by Bleu only furthers that notion.
In the role of Jane Falbury, a role made famous by Judy Garland in the original "Summer Stock" MGM musical, Danielle Wade lights up the Goodspeed Musicals stage with a breezy, intuitive musical comedy performance of real warmth and spirit that is a constant joy to watch. Veanne Cox, cast in the role of the wickedly devious Connecticut farming magnate Margaret Wingate, is jaw-dropping brilliant, using humor, music, dance and melodrama in divinely daft and glorious ways that prompt applause and laughter whenever she's in the limelight. It's a scene-stealing performance so seamlessly entrenched in glee and fiery abandon, Cox, would be the ideal choice to play narcissistic Broadway diva Dee Dee Allen in the 2024 summer presentation of "The Prom" at Playhouse in Park in West Hartford. I'll personally deliver the contract.
Other memorable performances are delivered by Arianna Rosario (Gloria Falbury), Stephen Lee Anderson (Henry "Pop" Falbury), Gilbert L. Bailey II (Phil Filmore), Will Roland (Orville Wingate) and J. Anthony Crane (Montgomery Leach).
A musical escape brimming with delightful songs, engaging performances and full-beam dance numbers, "Summer Stock" is not only a bubbly tonic for theatergoers of all ages, but one that kicks nostalgia into high gear with uncomplicated bliss, fizz and vintage sparkle.
It sings. It dances. It pops. It dazzles.
Like "42nd Street" which played Goodspeed Musicals last season, it overflows with Kelly/Astaire lightness, punch and precision, sunny vibes and well-played exactitude.
The energy displayed here is fast and furious with first-night exhilaration and thrill paired especially well with Corbin Bleu's charming star turn, Danielle Wade's joyous "Get Happy" abandon and Veanne Cox's well-prepped, icy cool villain.
This is musical theatre of the highest order - infectious, irresistible, glorious. Its leave-your-troubles-at-the-door/Let's-put-on-a-show mentality accelerates with sparkle and cherry pie goodness.
And boy, do we need it now!" [source]
(the reference to jane's sister abigail uses the film's names: abigail becomes gloria in this production, which is the name of abigail's actor in the film, which also mirrors how the role of herb is now phil, also the name of herb's actor in the film)
(also shoutout to providing A Full, Chronological List Of Songs. noting that according to another interview, intermission would be between "you wonderful you" and "june night")
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Where were you the day Mondatta died?
a self insert fic about loss, grief, and the stages we go through.
Ramattra was in a Talon meeting, under an agreement he’d regretted making. He was mad, he was rash, and now he’d face the consequences of his actions
Akande Ogundimu, more commonly know as Doomfist, stood proud, a live feed from Talon’s best assassin playing on a holo projection before him. Next to Ramattra was Maximillien, the highest ranked Omnic in Talon, just there for the ravager’s personal comfort.
They’d both assured him of this assassin’s efficiency, how she always hits her mark. One shot, one kill, they’d all said. When he’d had a moment, Ramattra couldn’t help but question her on this reputation.
“Everyone misses” she had answered, and now here Ramattra stood in a room of people he despised watching the brother he loved through the eyes of a killer he himself requested.
Ramattra’s grip on his staff would be enough to crush the woman’s spine three times over, as he stared unwavering at the screen, and prayed for the first time in a long time for a miracle
In an hour, the deal would be set. Mondatta would be dead, and Ramattra, his troops, his Omnics, his skills, would belong to Talon.
He would have no time to mourn in the long hours following his brother’s death. He would have no time to reflect on those back at the Shambali, the family he’d abandoned, and how they may be dealing with the loss. He would have no time to allow the pain of his choices to sink in.
And in the quiet hours, the few of them he had, he would return to the day he’d met Mondatta. Caked in blood and oil, alone on a battle field somewhere in New York city, he’d point his gun to the Monk, trembling. Mondatta would approach him and gently lay the gun to rest. He’d embrace the ravager, staining his beautiful white and gold robes in blood and oil, and Ramattra would cling to him, whimpering like a child, unable to face what he’d been made to do.
Could he face it now? Could he stand on battle fields of his own making and face his past again, knowing for sure this time his brother would not come to embrace him as he once had, sharing in the stains of his past
He had no time to ponder such things. What’s done is done. He had no time for regret, he had no time for doubt. It was time to push forward, to take what he’d been given and what he’d asked for and use it to better his people’s lives.
The time for action is now.
---------------
Genji and Zayne, Shimadas healed in the Shambali temples, were on tour. A journey of helping, of time off, of moments spent together free as they’d ever been.
They’d stopped in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, a small city with a little silly bit of history they both enjoyed looking into.
In moments they’d overhear someone watching the news a little too loudly in public about the loss of Mondatta. Their carefree moment of exploration around a funny man moth driven town ruined. They’d be left crushed, huddled together in a back alley attempting in vein to calm each other down
Moments from now they’d both experience grief worse than they’d felt sense Genji first died, grief over a man who loved them, who welcomed them into his home and brought them to a family that would stand by them as they healed and grew.
They would find a hotel, and grieve over night. They next day they’d pack up, and return to the Shambali to find the village quiet, in mourning, monks locked away in their homes in meditation, grieving as Zayne and Genji had.
Emile would force a smile to welcome them, and apologize for the quiet. They wouldn’t see Zenyatta.
A week would pass, sitting in silence by a crackling fire, Genji would face his little brother.
“I want to find Hanzo.” The older couldn’t bare to loose any more family, and his brother was out there, lost, thinking himself alone in a sea of his own thoughts, thinking Genji dead and gone from this world. “I want him to know I’m still here. That I still.. love him.”
It would be hard on them, the older and younger so close, and yet still so distant. A love just rekindled, splitting.
They would continue to travel, separated by entire oceans. Would they keep in contact? Could they keep in contact? A family split, miles and miles of land and sea separating them.
That would be their future. For now, in this moment, they sit together in an alley in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, crying together for the loss of someone they’d known their entire new lives.
-----------------
Emile was in a bar, packed full with his family, other students of the Shambali, Omnics big and small.
The bar tender had turned on the live broadcast of Mondatta’s speech. They didn’t have a television in the Monastery, and this bar was the only place open late enough to catch most of Mondatta’s touring live.
The room was hot with tightly packed monks, machines whirring and scraping together as they chatted amongst themselves, always a buzz to leave the temple.
Emile sat at the bar, a cup of orange juice in hand as he once again thanked the bar tender of letting them all take control of his television. He never minded, liked seeing the monks, he’d say, they always seemed so chipper.
In just a few seconds the atmosphere would change. All would go dead silent as Mondatta fell limp on the television.
No one would speak, no one would move. The humans in the rooms would hold their breath and wait.
Waiting for anything other than what they’d just witnessed to be true.
They’d all wait for hours in that little bar. They’d barrow phones from passers by. They’d knock on near by doors. The entire town would be up, awaiting an update, news on Mondatta’s situation.
Within two hours it would be officially announced that Mondatta has died.
There was only one who could shed tears in that bar that night, despite the near hundred people packed in together. He would cry enough for all of them.
In the coming days the Shambali Monastery would grow silent. Monks holed up in their homes, deep in meditation and prayer. The village would become a ghost town, spare one little human.
Emile just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t sleep in that home, knowing Mondatta would never return. He couldn’t wear those robes, knowing Mondatta would never straighten them for him again. He couldn’t sit to meditate, knowing Mondatta could never sit by his side once more.
So he cleaned, in his sweater and jeans that no longer fit quiet as nicely as they once had. He swept snow off the stairs and dusted the sanctum and washed laundry that had already been cleaned thrice over.
He would not eat, he would sleep, for a near 4 days the human kept himself busy, and never once would he step foot in Mondatta’s home.
He’d smile when Zayne and Genji would come back. He’d tell the townsfolk the village was doing just fine when he’d go to get supplies. He’d keep himself busy as the monks around him mourned.
And in 5 days time, he would collapse in the snow, dressed in few too little clothes, just as he had the day he’d arrived at the Shambali. And like that day he will be saved by a monk he’d come to know better than all the rest.
---------------
On that day, the day they’d lost Mondatta, Zenyatta was at home, in meditation. He loved his brother dearly, but watching his speeches at protests was starting to get rather same-y. The monk needed new lessions, Zenyatta had thought to himself.
He’d be unaware of the loss for another 2 hours, until the chimes of the temple rang out, and he would join his siblings at the sanctum, and hear the news from the group that had gone into town.
Like everyone else, Zenyatta would lock himself away in his home. Sat against a wall he would stare blankly, perusing the web in his own head for any and all sources he could find on Mondatta’s death.
He’d loose track of days, reading article after article, watching video after video, scanning for anything new he could find.
Why, he would ask himself, why would anyone take out Mondatta? What could he have done, who could he have hurt just trying to spread love?
Zenyatta would spend time wishing death on whoever would do something so awful, just to retract the thought moments later. His brother would not want such a thing for even the person who would take his life.
On the third day of mourning Zenyatta would stumble into something he would wish he hadn’t. An image of the assassin.
A face to put to his desire of vengeance.
A woman with blue skin and long dark hair, an awfully tight purple suit and a large sniper rifle.
For the next few days Zenyatta would spend all his time staring at the blurry photo of this woman, wishing the worst upon her. May she loose those closest to her and may it be her own fault. May she feel the worst pains imaginable and survive. May she live the rest of her life with these regrets and no way to return. May she find a path to recovery just to have the door slammed in her face.
On the fifth day, these thought plaguing Zenyatta’s head would finally drive him mad. He would storm from his home with a bag of few things, vengeance his only thought as he crushed snow beneath his feet.
His plan to leave the village, to find the woman who did this, to put her in the ground himself, would be interrupted as a white haired man with puffy red eyes would collapse in front of him.
Thoughts of her would leave the monk alone after so long of obsession as he found himself in the company Emile, the human had taken the loss of Mondatta just about as well as Zenyatta.
That night, they would stop avoiding the truth. They’d lost Mondatta, their brother, their master, their family, and it hurt. Together they would face this, over hot tea and by a dying fire, they’d relive stories of their life in that Monastery.
Stories of sneaking out of meditations, of snow ball fights, of counting stars atop the mountain, of learning, and laughing, and being home and happy.
The night would pass and they would still be sat there, at Zenyatta’s low tea table Mondatta had gotten him for his birthday two years ago, sitting back to back in a comfortable silence.
“I want to find Ramattra,” Zenyatta will say, his hand laid gently on top of Emile’s. “He is lost, wherever he is, I am sure he is as lost as we were” He thinks back to the day Ramattra left, the fight he and Mondatta had, the last words he’d said to their brother... He knew Ramattra regretted that, now more than ever.
“We’ll find him.” Emile will smile over his shoulder, “Together.”
And in that moment, a moment of calm between storms, Zenyatta will look back and realize quietly to himself
He is in love. He has been in love for years. This. This was what love was for him.
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