Wicked is the story of what happened in Oz long before Dorothy came flying in. How did the scarecrow become a scarecrow? Why is Glinda the Good so perennially perky? And what in the name of goodness makes those monkeys fly? Wicked answers these questions and more, and does it with such flair and panache that the entire audience delivered a standing ovation at the end of the performance. In addition to the phenomenal vocal performances, the sets are elaborate, the special effects are cleverly done, and the story itself is captivating. Secrets abound in Oz, and when all is revealed at the very end, I found myself wishing the show would go on longer. One of the best parts of the production? It's hilariously funny. It's partly due to the great linesit was a bewitchingly well-spent three hours of my afternoon!
"The Phantom of the Opera" follows the hoary Leroux tale of an insane, disfigured musician who haunts the backstage, flies and sub-stage areas of the Paris Opera. He lusts after and clandestinely guides the career of Christine Daae, a rising young soprano who ultimately betrays and destroys him. Attempting in some measure to musically recreate the experience of seeing Lon Chaney's celebrated portrayal of the Phantom in its original venue, Webber's score leans heavily on the sounds of the magnificent Wurlitzer theater organs installed in the great 1920s movie palaces. There, during each performance, celebrated organists would sit at the massive consoles and use the printed music sent along with the print to accompany the flickering black and white images on the screen. In addition, Webber's composition is homage to the works of opera composer Giacomo Puccini, and though his tribute occasionally borders on transparent imitation, it is a rich score of soaring operatic melodies liberally seasoned with rock-n-roll riffs, beats, and harmonies. The play opens to the sounds of dark, indistinct organ chords and a sinister ostinato of glowering pedaled bass notes underscoring the on stage efforts of a lone auctioneer seeking bids for the dusty artifacts of an abandoned European opera house. Soon the man gets to the final item, "Lot 666 then, ladies and gentlemen: a chandelier, in pieces," which as he says figured so prominently in the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera. As he orders the newly re-wired thing lit up, it suddenly and frighteningly rises from the stage, flying up to the center of the real theatre to hang precariously above the audience for the duration of the play. As it rises, the synthesized Wurlitzer roars into life, augmented by a nearly full-on symphony orchestra, and the entire theatre creaks into motion, magically transporting itself back to its glory days when the Phantom roamed its aisles and boxes. It is easily the most spectacular opening scene in theater history.