Big Fish
Edward Bloom, against all odds, but no more incredible than the rest of his adventures, gets the girl, the knockout beauty, singing lulu, acting dream Kate Baldwin, who plays Sandra Bloom, his ever-loving wife and mother to that wistfully skeptic little Will (marvelous Zachary Unger) who grows up to be wistfully hardnosed favorite and only son, Will, blooming star Bobby Steggert.
Kate Baldwin and Norbert Leo Butz
in a scene from Big Fish
(Photo credit: Paul Kolnik)
Some people like to fall into a show and get swept up in the otherness. Some people like to tot up the masses of effects that tower and tower and teeter and happily crash. Some people enjoy listing the 27 actors, 15 musicians, 28 production support entities, 31 producing entities, 40 set changes and God knows how many crew it takes to put on Big Fish. And some people worry about the costs. But everybody gives a standing ovation to improbably named Norbert Leo Butz, its star of stars. Yes, super director/choreographer Susan Stroman has pulled and woven and wreaked and hammered the story of the life and death of ordinary extraordinary Edward Bloom, traveling salesman, tale spinner, fabulist who fills the lives of everyone he meets with cockeyed wonders. Except his own little boy, Will, who tolerates, even collaborates with, his dad’s tall tales as they explode around him, but keeps a cool eye and a level head afterward.
Who is this mysterious nut case, his father, really, under all that irresistible wonder? Where does he go, what does he do in his travels? There are no witches, there are no giants, no mermaids, no werewolves. These are just made up. These are just lies. Even if they seem so real when he tells them. Is my dad just a big, fat liar? Or what?
The Company of Big Fish
(Photo credit: Paul Kolnik)
And there you have it: Edward Bloom, against all odds, but no more incredible than the rest of his adventures, gets the girl, the knockout beauty, singing lulu, acting dream Kate Baldwin, who plays Sandra Bloom, his ever-loving wife and mother to that wistfully skeptic little Will (marvelous Zachary Unger) who grows up to be wistfully hardnosed favorite and only son, Will, blooming star Bobby Steggert. Edward lives to tell his son to “Be the Hero” (helluva number) which Edward always is to young Will in spite of that niggling question or ten at the back of his little head. And when young Will grows up and marries his darlin’ Josephine (wining Krystal Joy Brown) in a wedding dominated by – who else? – his irrepressible Dad, who later spills the beans before Will has a chance to when Josephine becomes pregnant, well, small wonder that Will’s alienation from his dad grows. And grows.
Which makes life somewhat difficult for his mom trying to keep the two men in her life. So, of course, there are witches. Well, of course, there aren’t. Of course, there’s probably giants. Well of course, there isn’t, not even one. What Sandra doesn’t know until she can’t help knowing is that ever-exuberant, ever-lovin’ Edward will not be there forever. Or even sooner. He’s not sick in his head, it’s his body. Book writer John August follows his own, touching screenplay of the film which serves as the basis of this sumptuous bonanza of imagination and riot, which director and choreographer Stroman has conjured up. In spite of her turning new insights and new costumes and new choreography and new fun in song and dance event after song and dance, we just wish we could savor them a bit more when they spin so fast past us, events we know we’ve seen in lesser lights somewhere before.
Norbert Leo Butz and Zachary Unger
As Edward and Will Bloom in Big Fish
(Photo credit: Paul Kolnik)
But, oh, the twinges. In large part as if star Norbert Leo Butz has lent the prospective knowledge of his impending death to Edward, the man he plays, a depth of reality darkly underlying the bright fantasies of the musical. An actor can do that but you don’t see it often.
Big Fish is bigger as a result. Sure, Edward Bloom is a singin’, dancin’ fool you can’t resist, sure, he knows that people need to have their lives stretched a little with foolishness, that people need to have their spirits jiggled higher now and again, that people need to feel their hearts bigger and richer and more loving than most living allows. And all of this is in Butz’s incredible performance.
This is the most challenging problem for playwright August and director Stroman. Fun and games is easy by comparison. Thus, Will’s probing of his father’s past shrinks Will until he finds his suspicions have been unfounded. But the creators go farther and Will becomes a believer, a transition demanded by the story line but a tough one for all concerned. Still, I’d love to see it all again, the wild witches led by Ciara Renee, the first, startling glimpse of giant Karl, Ryan Andes, the marvelous mermaid, Sarrah Strimel, the charming werewolf, Brad Oscar, and all the swirling, twirling, spell weaving company. William Ivey Long’s mad to madder costumes, Julian Crouch’s constantly acting settings including elephant rumps, Angelina Avallone’s makeup designs, Paul Huntley’s transforming wigs, Benjamin Pearcy’s astonishing projections, Sam Davis’ dance music arrangements, Andrew Lippa’s music and lyrics and vocal arrangements, Larry Hochman’s orchestrations Big Fish, big job, big result.
Big Fish (open run)
Neil Simon Theatre, 250 West 52nd Street, in Manhattan
For tickets, call 212-239-6200 or visit http://www.ticketmaster.com
Running time: two hours and 30 minutes including one intermission
