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| Scene from Fosse/Verdon |
In every medium, there's always a pair of collaborators that reinvent things in ways that are hard to ignore. In the world of theater, two of those voices included Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon. To an average audience member, the name of Fosse looms larger in volumes. This is in large part because Fosse's outgoing personality made him a magnetic icon, managing to get credit for his choreography as well as work as a filmmaker who won an Oscar against The Godfather. Fosse's ego is notorious at this point, and it took a miniseries like Fosse/Verdon to remind audiences that while he may have been a talented egotist, there was a partner who has faded into obscurity that deserves a lot more credit. The series set out not only to paint a more honest depiction of Fosse but reintroduce audiences to the importance of Verdon, whose career in theater is just as influential, if not more, because of what she did with and without Fosse to the better theater. It was a great series that pushed boundaries and emotions, thanks in large part to central actors Sam Rockwell and Michelle Williams.
The series opens and closes on one particular collaboration: Sweet Charity. At the start of the series, Fosse (Rockwell) is seen staging the iconic "Hey Big Spender" for the film version as Verdon (Williams) helps to orchestrate the women within the scene. Even if Fosse had the vision, Verdon had the gifts for understanding how images popped, bringing to life something that audiences would want to see. She took her job seriously, desperately pushing for her next gig even as Fosse seemed to fade into aimless fraternizing with his famous friends, most notably Paddy Chayefsky (Norbert Leo Butz), that somehow stumble him into success. He's in and out of the hospital, drug problems, theater, relationships, directing movies, and generally being a father. Verdon was the anchor to everything, of which kept Fosse from having his career die almost on an annual basis.
It's why the return to Sweet Charity at the end is an interesting choice. Separated by almost two decades and incredible career decisions, the 1987 revival showed in some ways how Fosse was losing a grasp on his art form. Even with Verdon teaching dancers the original moves, there's no way to properly capture the magic. It's fading in a way that only five years prior was still burning bright through films like All That Jazz. Still, they came at the expense of personal issues, pushing Fosse into a life of regret. His art reflected his apologetic desires, especially as his daughter formed a drug habit due in large part to rummaging around adult parties as a child, discovering dark sides to everyone she used to admire. She had just as much access to her father's medicine cabinet as he did, and it had some heavy stuff. When Fosse collapses in a seizure at the end of the film, he's on his way to the Sweet Charity revival. Verdon assures him that it doesn't start without him, but he never gets there. As his life with Verdon flashes before his eyes, he discovers that while he was looking for approval, he was also looking towards a partner who had just as much credit to his success as he did. He would be nothing without Verdon, both on stage and behind.
The series lacked form, choosing to rummage around Fosse's life in a translucent fashion. While it may seem like an unprofessional approach, it worked at capturing the life of two manic forces. Before audiences are introduced to the era of Verdon's rise to fame with Damn Yankees, there's an understanding of how her ability to nurture helped to inform Fosse's personal choices on films such as Cabaret. These are two artists who are desperately trying to matter in an industry that pushes too hard. For Verdon, it's especially hard due to her status as a woman, who suffers the criticism of looks as well as being able to land choreography. She isn't sure if she'll ever get Chicago off the ground, and after that an uncertainty if she'll be able to write it off as a success. It's in part because Fosse refuses to work on her passion work in favor of his own. It's true that his films remain largely more critically acclaimed and seen, but that's because his larger-than-life ego pushes his work into that stratosphere.
So, what is there to say about Verdon? A lot of it comes in private life over the eight episodes. She is the one who pushes to raise her daughter in a safe environment. She is the one who protects the family from the harsh world that theater could present. She is constantly trying to keep things balanced, even as Fosse refuses to be a faithful man. The choice to show a woman dealing with a flawed man may seem trendy in 2019, but it's also to Verdon's credit. Whereas Fosse lives fast and loose, Verdon's calculated career manages to come across as more sympathetic. She sacrifices more in favor of living a happy life and finds herself forever in the shadow of the man who has filled her life with so much misery and joy. It helps that Williams makes so much of the role feel authentic, adopting Verdon's voice in a way that evokes vulnerability. Her dance choreography is impeccable, and her motherly nature rounds out the edges on a woman who wanted fame but also wanted to express herself against a man who wasn't always aware of that.
In some ways, the series sets out to make Verdon into a figure worth revisiting. It's hard to not want to, especially as her life is given tragic edits along the way. For all the success she earns, her vision of Chicago remains changed by Fosse. It's true that the series gives weight to Fosse's arrogance by exploring his past in a surreal way. While lying in the hospital, he has hallucinations of his time performing in brothels for money. He was a breadwinner, and the struggle to please his family made him somewhat unable to relate to those around him. The series' latter half takes on a more stylized form, borrowing techniques from Fosse and Verdon productions like Chicago and All That Jazz in order to convey the insular struggles through stylized dance. It gives weight and authenticity, especially as a dance was how these two expressed themselves.
Fosse/Verdon's greatest achievement was exploring how these two figures needed each other to properly express themselves. In some ways, Fosse was too vulnerable on his own and his tendencies were too reckless. Verdon needed Fosse due to his enthusiasm and creativity that would help to make theater more interesting. It was a partnership that cemented a change in pop culture. Without them, who knows how successful either would be. It's a story full of nasty fights, but those fights present with them a creative partnership that featured two egos clashing. The work is out there and the conversation has been shifted. It's up to the audience now to notice Verdon's brilliance and dedication in ways that the mainstream conversation didn't beforehand. With excellent work from producers Steven Levenson and Lin-Manuel Miranda, the show is a great statement about how art brings people together and tears them apart at the same time. Artists need each other to produce ideas, and the best is far from perfect personally. Still, this series perfectly captured a dynamic that means a lot to the bigger conversation in who creates the art and who we give credit to. Fosse may have been the bigger name, but his legacy owes way too much to Verdon to be ignored.
The series lacked form, choosing to rummage around Fosse's life in a translucent fashion. While it may seem like an unprofessional approach, it worked at capturing the life of two manic forces. Before audiences are introduced to the era of Verdon's rise to fame with Damn Yankees, there's an understanding of how her ability to nurture helped to inform Fosse's personal choices on films such as Cabaret. These are two artists who are desperately trying to matter in an industry that pushes too hard. For Verdon, it's especially hard due to her status as a woman, who suffers the criticism of looks as well as being able to land choreography. She isn't sure if she'll ever get Chicago off the ground, and after that an uncertainty if she'll be able to write it off as a success. It's in part because Fosse refuses to work on her passion work in favor of his own. It's true that his films remain largely more critically acclaimed and seen, but that's because his larger-than-life ego pushes his work into that stratosphere.
So, what is there to say about Verdon? A lot of it comes in private life over the eight episodes. She is the one who pushes to raise her daughter in a safe environment. She is the one who protects the family from the harsh world that theater could present. She is constantly trying to keep things balanced, even as Fosse refuses to be a faithful man. The choice to show a woman dealing with a flawed man may seem trendy in 2019, but it's also to Verdon's credit. Whereas Fosse lives fast and loose, Verdon's calculated career manages to come across as more sympathetic. She sacrifices more in favor of living a happy life and finds herself forever in the shadow of the man who has filled her life with so much misery and joy. It helps that Williams makes so much of the role feel authentic, adopting Verdon's voice in a way that evokes vulnerability. Her dance choreography is impeccable, and her motherly nature rounds out the edges on a woman who wanted fame but also wanted to express herself against a man who wasn't always aware of that.
In some ways, the series sets out to make Verdon into a figure worth revisiting. It's hard to not want to, especially as her life is given tragic edits along the way. For all the success she earns, her vision of Chicago remains changed by Fosse. It's true that the series gives weight to Fosse's arrogance by exploring his past in a surreal way. While lying in the hospital, he has hallucinations of his time performing in brothels for money. He was a breadwinner, and the struggle to please his family made him somewhat unable to relate to those around him. The series' latter half takes on a more stylized form, borrowing techniques from Fosse and Verdon productions like Chicago and All That Jazz in order to convey the insular struggles through stylized dance. It gives weight and authenticity, especially as a dance was how these two expressed themselves.
Fosse/Verdon's greatest achievement was exploring how these two figures needed each other to properly express themselves. In some ways, Fosse was too vulnerable on his own and his tendencies were too reckless. Verdon needed Fosse due to his enthusiasm and creativity that would help to make theater more interesting. It was a partnership that cemented a change in pop culture. Without them, who knows how successful either would be. It's a story full of nasty fights, but those fights present with them a creative partnership that featured two egos clashing. The work is out there and the conversation has been shifted. It's up to the audience now to notice Verdon's brilliance and dedication in ways that the mainstream conversation didn't beforehand. With excellent work from producers Steven Levenson and Lin-Manuel Miranda, the show is a great statement about how art brings people together and tears them apart at the same time. Artists need each other to produce ideas, and the best is far from perfect personally. Still, this series perfectly captured a dynamic that means a lot to the bigger conversation in who creates the art and who we give credit to. Fosse may have been the bigger name, but his legacy owes way too much to Verdon to be ignored.
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