There is a line spoken early in the Steve Martin and Edie Brickell musical Bright Star that almost serves as the thesis for the entire show. With the story taking place sporadically between the 1920's and 1940's along the central east coast of America, there is a point where someone ponders about the need for a new generation of southern writers. In a sense, it's exactly what live theater needed as well in a time where most stories aren't your Oklahoma!'s, and few composers felt as right to deliver the story as Martin and Brickell - the former of whom has taken on a second life in recent years as a major recording bluegrass artist. With that said, the show is wrapped around a sense of southern hospitality and the notion that everyone has a story. This one in particular is funny, sad, and full of the best bluegrass-inspired music (take THAT Hamilton). It's full of authentic joy and the people at Musical Theater West have once again presented the story with incredible set designs, music, and performances that pop right off the stage and into your hearts.
There were certain details provided to the audience via Musical Theater West's executive director/producer Paul Garman prior to the show. After giving a passionate story about his love for the story down to buying the sets and costumes from the Broadway version, he noted that the timeline for story is a bit unclear to those going in blind. The story jumps between the 20's and 40's with some regularity that only keen eyes will notice all of the differences. Along with an adorable "silence your cell phone" ad spoken in a southern dialect, the introduction to the show feels key to fully appreciating the execution that follows. With half of the band on stage, performing in a symbolic wooden house that is rolled across the stage in a dance all its own, the show felt new and different. It was a southern story, and one that proved how limited hit Broadway shows can sometimes be in terms of musical genre.
At the center of the story is Alice Murphy (Anna Mintzer), who opens the show peering out of the wooden house with the humble opening of "If You Knew My Story." It's a quiet number, played with a sense of mystery that resonates well into the second act. She is a writer dating Jimmy Ray Dobbs (Devin Archer), who works at a business whose first policy is to marry someone who helps increase revenue (forget romance). The story evolves from there in a series of optimistic and tragic paths, seeing Alice age from a young woman raised to not embrace "dirty" literature to a high-end journal editor who murders adverbs before she sleeps. This is only the cusp of what the story holds underneath, but it's intuitive that the audience goes in with some vagueness to fully appreciate the twists and turns.
There's a lot that makes the show more than a novelty transition from comedy and film to stage for music, book, and story co-writer Steve Martin. In fact, a lot of the show's influence feels rooted in his early comedy successes in the late 1970's, where he spent whole comedy album tracks playing banjo. Bluegrass is in his blood, and he brings a sense of joy to every song while Brickell brings wit and heart to the lyrical component. Martin's efforts are an astounding mix of his familiar highbrow comedy with a more mature and polished sense of execution. The show is constantly embracing winking asides and absurdity in doses that add charm to the extensive cast. Even then, he knows when to pull back and emphasize drama and produces some of his most tearful work of his entire career. This is an artist who is passionate and clearly put in effort to make the story complex but not gimmicky, allowing disjointed moments to flow with a steadiness that needs to be seen to be believed.
The show also has a lot of great use of a stage, especially in terms of back-up dancers who also service as stagehands. An average dance scene may feature the central house being swung around while others sing and dance, even moving props while slamming them down in a percussive rhythm. There's so much joy in the music component that it'll make the audience want to clap along. Also considering that some transitions (though rare) unfold with costume changes that happen before the audience, the show never wastes time. It's all about an energy and focus that only sheer professionals could pull off. Even if all that's happening is a set change, it's so much fun to watch things unfold because of the music and exuberant optimism.
It helps that the performances are also effective in capturing the southern charm. Mintzer is definitely a delight with her charismatic turn throughout both halves of the story. She is a charming figure, and one who grounds the comedy and drama in a sense of purpose. Even the supporting characters, such as optimistic writer Billy Cane (Taubert Nadalini), get enough moments to just banter and have fun. The show is never dull, and the Martin-penned wit shines through in the timing of every joke, managing to never feel intrusive of important plot points. This is a world that was clearly created with a certain care and effort, and it shines in everyone on stage. When even the back-up dancers leave a great impression on the audience, there's clearly something going right.
Bright Star achieves its own prophecy and poses a good question why there aren't more southern writers/playwrights. It may have been a joke applicable to the 1940's era of the story (featuring "up-and-comer" Tennessee Williams), but it feels like a test to audiences who see the show and maybe finding themselves loving bluegrass for the first time. It's great that Martin used his influence to tell this story, and most of all it's great that he did it so well. Thankfully everyone else helped to make it one of the most entertaining romps in recent years. It's got plenty of heart, humor, and drama to make it a powerful and unique story. If you're looking for something exciting and different, then Musical Theater West's production is definitely a great place to go right now to see the magic on display in Bright Star.
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