Generic and Bland

Lots of folks know the film musical, "White Christmas." This Old Grouch and his long-time friend Jittery Grouch actually saw the movie in a theater, circa mid-1960s, in a re-release with "The Seven Little Foys." When the home video revolution happened, "White Christmas" was issued on VHS tape (its widescreen VistaVision cropped to full frame, if I recall correctly), laserdisc (perfect widescreen proportions), and, ultimately, DVD -- first on its own, and then later with a "White Christmas" soundtrack CD (even though the "soundtrack" was not taken directly from the film, but recorded in a studio. Another topic - sigh - for the future?)

The top performers in the film are Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, and Vera-Ellen. With the possible exception of Miss Ellen (I know these is fightin' words), that cast is anything but bland. These folks are STARS for the simple reason that there is nobody else like them in the world. You may not find "White Christmas" to be your favorite American film, but no doubt you'll agree with me about its leading players.

After a couple of years of engagements out of town around Christmastime, the stage version of "White Christmas" is about to plop down in New York for the first time, beginning in November and continuing through to the first weekend in January 2009. A survey of its website (www.WhiteChristmasthemusical.com) proves to be a dispiriting experience.

I could be wrong, but this stage production looks to be the height of blandness. Probably because it needs to recoup production costs quickly, due to the limited seasonal nature of its plot and most well-known song, the casting of star-quality actors is out of the question. Subbed in are reliably experienced musical theater folk, most of whom have been seen in various "Encores!" productions at City Center. The one cast member who will be in the New York production who is closest to a "name" is Stephen Bogardus, who made his mark some years ago in one of those William Finn musicals. But Bogardus has nothing of the quirkiness of Bing Crosby.

And just because an actor has red hair does not mean he is even close to Danny Kaye! Jeffry Denman has a nice voice and can dance, but has zero personality (based on his performance in "Face the Music" which Old Grouch saw at City Center "Encores!"). I noticed a few weeks ago that Mr. Denman just got married to a nice young lady and announced it in the New York Times, so he is probably very excited to be married and to be opening in a big New York show, and who can blame him?

The video clips online show excerpts from the big Randy Skinner tap dance numbers. Old Grouch is old enough to remember the original Gower Champion "42nd Street," a flat-out exciting piece of stagecraft that grabbed the guts of that melodramatic material and made something quite wonderful out of it. Over the years, one of the authors of the stage book (cut to size by original producer David Merrick, who forced his billing to read, "Lead-ins and crossovers by ...") has gotten too much control of the property, and in its last go-round (at the Airplane Hangar theater, I mean the Ford Center of the Performing Arts, I mean the Hilton Theater) it was a soul-less machine, choreographed by Randy Skinner.

When Gower Champion and David Merrick first presented it, it had been a long while since Broadway musicals had large casts and some great hoofing. Now, it seems, this is what audiences expect, so the Randy Skinnners of the world just put 30 dancers onstage in synchronization, with fake taps coming out of the big speakers and sound augmentation up the wazoo, and we're supposed to feel something for our $100+ tickets.

The phrase "theme park" has been used about Broadway for many years now, but with some notable exceptions, musicals are big old bland affairs. 'Tis an age-old problem, rarely solved: in the effort to give audiences what they want, producers end up lowering standards and selling out.

If the reviews are enthusiastic, I'll eat crow and go see "White Christmas," just because it's been a big part of my life. But I'm left with a generic feeling. This production is generations removed from the life and energy of Irving Berlin; it's been created by heirs.