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Scene from Fosse/Verdon |
Welcome to a new column called Channel Surfing, in which I sporadically look at current TV shows and talk about them. These are not ones that I care to write weekly recaps for and are instead reflections either on the episode, the series, or particular moments. This will hopefully help to share personal opinions as well as discover entertainment on the outer pantheon that I feel is well worth checking out, or in some cases, shows that are weird enough to talk about, but should never be seen.
If there's one thing that FX has become great at doing, it's creating dramas that center on real-life people with larger than life egos. It's practically Ryan Murphy's bread and butter for shows like American Crime Story and Feud. It's why it seems odd that Fosse/Verdon is produced by someone else. Steven Levenson (Dear Evan Hansen) and Thomas Kail (In the Heights) are people who come from theater and thus know the impact that Bob Fosse had on their industry. For several decades, he was one of the most influential choreographers while producing some of the biggest shows. On film, he managed to give a permanent stamp on his legacy with such films as Cabaret and All That Jazz, which embraced erratic editing, sexual undertones, and magnificent dance numbers. To modern audiences, Fosse is a self-proclaimed genius who lived up to the hype. However, Levenson and Kail would be the first to tell you that he wasn't the only one. To make art of this kind requires collaboration, and Fosse/Verdon seeks to introduce audiences to his key collaborator: Gwen Verdon.
The series begins not in the theater but with Fosse's (Sam Rockwell) directorial debut Sweet Charity. Even if you don't know Fosse, the song "Hey Big Spender" has become a ubiquitous Broadway song. The sequence he shoots is a simple shot of women standing at a bar, looking out an invisible audience. And yet, the perfectionist that Fosse is can't be satisfied. He keeps adjusting angles to no avail. Then enters Verdon, whose advice helps the shot to take focus. She gives actresses motivation while helping the shot to become something grander. Fosse may have the vision, but it's clear that he'd be nothing without Verdon. She has an artistry that is acute, managing to fix wardrobe and speak to executives who grow weary of Fosse as Sweet Charity becomes a box office bomb and the shooting of Cabaret risks turning into a disaster.
By the end of the first episode, there's something that feels appalling. How has society overlooked the importance of Verdon in Fosse's work? The show suggests that she was key to many factors of Cabaret's now iconic imagery, including how a comical gorilla would be dressed. She's just as passionate about art as Fosse, and yet her name doesn't have the same familiarity. As much as the show alludes to Fosse's rich past of being a dancer pushed further towards perfection in his youth's ballet classes, the choice to look over at Verdon gives the show a bigger depth. Without her, he wouldn't have a complete vision. He would merely exist as a figure unable to get work because of his indecisiveness and impulsive amorous behavior.
On one hand, Fosse is a familiar depiction of an artist. Those who have seen All That Jazz may recognize how Rockwell plays him. There's insecurity to him as he sits up in the bed opposite someone he's in an affair with. His desperation for love comes across in his belief that every frame he shoots matters. He understands what looks good, but without guidance, he can't get there. The story creates conflict by the episode's end between Fosse and Verdon that could develop throughout the rest of the series. Without Verdon, one has to wonder if Fosse's decision making would be altered for the worst. It's the crux of what makes the show a fascinating dynamic between an artist and his muse, whom he molds early on into the perfect dance positions. He may know how to choreograph, but he needs someone to make it work.
The show could easily be mistaken as another Ryan Murphy miniseries, and that's both a good and bad thing. The TV mogul has had an incredible, Emmy-winning run lately with a half dozen series that have redefined cable TV. It's likely the only reason that Fosse/Verdon got off the ground in the first place. Still, Levenson and Kail look to have their work cut out for themselves. As people of theater, there's acute attention to what makes these characters pop. The drive to be perfect consumes these characters, and the struggle to be understood by a public who is suspicious of you only adds to the anxiety. There's so much to love in how the show opens up by reflecting Fosse's subtle reliance on Verdon for more feminine touches. For all of his incredible moves, he needs someone to make the wardrobe pop. He has the idea, but not the look. Verdon is deified without being treated as an other. She is the reason that Fosse made it.
As a whole, this is another FX prestige drama that seems geared towards attracting an audience and rewriting history, much like how Feud repurposed Joan Crawford and Bette Davis' relationship. While the show has yet to capture nearly as much energy as the aforementioned series, it does have a lot of promise in its lead performances by Rockwell and Williams. They each embody archetypes that are compelling, especially when dealing with a figure as grand as Fosse. Who knows how much deconstruction will happen by the end of the series' run. Maybe Fosse will seem far more unpleasant without Verdon. Maybe there's a redemption angle that culminates in raising Verdon to a modern saint. It's hard to say, but the fact that people of the theater are bringing this story to life (including producer Lin Manuel Miranda) suggests that there's more care put to telling a faithful story. It's hard to tell right now, but what can be said is that it looks good and has a lot more to say about how men need women for balance, and it's about time that that's realized.
The series begins not in the theater but with Fosse's (Sam Rockwell) directorial debut Sweet Charity. Even if you don't know Fosse, the song "Hey Big Spender" has become a ubiquitous Broadway song. The sequence he shoots is a simple shot of women standing at a bar, looking out an invisible audience. And yet, the perfectionist that Fosse is can't be satisfied. He keeps adjusting angles to no avail. Then enters Verdon, whose advice helps the shot to take focus. She gives actresses motivation while helping the shot to become something grander. Fosse may have the vision, but it's clear that he'd be nothing without Verdon. She has an artistry that is acute, managing to fix wardrobe and speak to executives who grow weary of Fosse as Sweet Charity becomes a box office bomb and the shooting of Cabaret risks turning into a disaster.
By the end of the first episode, there's something that feels appalling. How has society overlooked the importance of Verdon in Fosse's work? The show suggests that she was key to many factors of Cabaret's now iconic imagery, including how a comical gorilla would be dressed. She's just as passionate about art as Fosse, and yet her name doesn't have the same familiarity. As much as the show alludes to Fosse's rich past of being a dancer pushed further towards perfection in his youth's ballet classes, the choice to look over at Verdon gives the show a bigger depth. Without her, he wouldn't have a complete vision. He would merely exist as a figure unable to get work because of his indecisiveness and impulsive amorous behavior.
On one hand, Fosse is a familiar depiction of an artist. Those who have seen All That Jazz may recognize how Rockwell plays him. There's insecurity to him as he sits up in the bed opposite someone he's in an affair with. His desperation for love comes across in his belief that every frame he shoots matters. He understands what looks good, but without guidance, he can't get there. The story creates conflict by the episode's end between Fosse and Verdon that could develop throughout the rest of the series. Without Verdon, one has to wonder if Fosse's decision making would be altered for the worst. It's the crux of what makes the show a fascinating dynamic between an artist and his muse, whom he molds early on into the perfect dance positions. He may know how to choreograph, but he needs someone to make it work.
The show could easily be mistaken as another Ryan Murphy miniseries, and that's both a good and bad thing. The TV mogul has had an incredible, Emmy-winning run lately with a half dozen series that have redefined cable TV. It's likely the only reason that Fosse/Verdon got off the ground in the first place. Still, Levenson and Kail look to have their work cut out for themselves. As people of theater, there's acute attention to what makes these characters pop. The drive to be perfect consumes these characters, and the struggle to be understood by a public who is suspicious of you only adds to the anxiety. There's so much to love in how the show opens up by reflecting Fosse's subtle reliance on Verdon for more feminine touches. For all of his incredible moves, he needs someone to make the wardrobe pop. He has the idea, but not the look. Verdon is deified without being treated as an other. She is the reason that Fosse made it.
As a whole, this is another FX prestige drama that seems geared towards attracting an audience and rewriting history, much like how Feud repurposed Joan Crawford and Bette Davis' relationship. While the show has yet to capture nearly as much energy as the aforementioned series, it does have a lot of promise in its lead performances by Rockwell and Williams. They each embody archetypes that are compelling, especially when dealing with a figure as grand as Fosse. Who knows how much deconstruction will happen by the end of the series' run. Maybe Fosse will seem far more unpleasant without Verdon. Maybe there's a redemption angle that culminates in raising Verdon to a modern saint. It's hard to say, but the fact that people of the theater are bringing this story to life (including producer Lin Manuel Miranda) suggests that there's more care put to telling a faithful story. It's hard to tell right now, but what can be said is that it looks good and has a lot more to say about how men need women for balance, and it's about time that that's realized.
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