The title suggests an homage to the swing era, but the new Broadway musical Bandstand at the Bernard Jacobs is more nuanced. It addresses the pain of returning WWII vets in 1945.
It underscores, much like The Best Years Of Our Lives film, that the public doesn’t fully comprehend what these men endured or the horrors they witnessed.
And that’s a worthy subject.
Bandstand is seemingly two stories: post-war realities and present-day necessities, wrapped in the seductive sounds of swing.
These former soldiers are also musicians eager to establish themselves. Led by Danny Novitski (a strong Corey Cott), whose ambition and upbeat attitude is a poster for can-do Americanism, he puts together a band of vets.
He also copes with his own demons, which force him to visit Julia (Laura Osnes), the widow of his best friend, who died in action in the Pacific. Indeed, each band member wrestles with emotional and physical wounds: Davy on bass (Brandon J. Ellis), Johnny on drums (Joe Carroll), Nick on trumpet (Alex Bender), Wayne on trombone (Geoff Packard) and Jimmy on sax (James Nathan Hopkins).
In our era, where veteran acknowledgement is relegated to a quick “thanks for your service,” the men of Bandstand are a stark reminder of harsher truths.
Eager to move forward, Danny has a single goal — propel his band to the top. Julia, who happens to be a nifty poet/lyricist with powerful singing chops, wants only to be left alone. This being a musical, they will join forces for some fantastic music, thanks to Broadway newcomers Richard Oberacker and Rob Taylor, and electric dance numbers by director-choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler, who won the Tony for Hamilton.
In fact, Bandstand makes a strong argument for the healing power of music.
Osnos and Cott deliver appealing and engaging performances. The story is touching, but cutting 10-15 minutes would tighten the pace and excise some of the cheaper bits, like the play on Julia’s last name, Trojan.
There is a dark undertow here that could be a show all its own. But like the musicals of the Forties, the kinetic Bandstand ends on a high note.
Anastasia at the Broadhurst also pushes for a happy ending, but from a mythical plane. The Broadway musical is inspired by the 1997 animated film and the 1956 Hollywood movie. So suspend belief and make room for some exquisite projection designs from Aaron Rhyne and costumes from Linda Cho.
The often-sumptuous Anastasia is an eye-popping delight. The politics are another story.
The plot is well-known: The Bolsheviks slaughtered Czar Nicholas II’s family when it seized power in 1917. But because not all the bodies were recovered, a story arose — for decades — that young Anastasia escaped with the help of a sympathetic guard.
Fast-forward to 1927. A handsome street hustler Dmitry (Derek Klena) and aristocratic imposter Vlad (John Bolton) hatch a plan, common during the era. They will transform street urchin Anya (Christy Altomare) into Anastasia, the lost Romanov princess.
Once styled, they flee to Paris, hoping to convince the royal grandmother (Mary Beth Peil) that Anya is the real deal. That is, if they can escape Gleb (a nuanced Ramin Karimloo), the Bolshevik hot on Anya’s trail. The Soviets want to eradicate any reminder of imperial glory threatening their new order.
Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens adapted their movie score to the stage. New pop melodies have been added to the Terrance McNally book, which mixes adventure and nostalgia in equal measure.
Altomare is excellent as the beautiful and independent Anya, a young girl surviving a tumultuous world. Klena and Bolton are ideal comrades in this romance/history tale slickly directed by Darko Tresnjak, who won a Tony for “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder.”
In fairness, however, imperial rule should not be heralded. One brief aside — the Czar left his people with nothing — is the only acknowledgement of Romanov brutality. Anastasia is a lovely musical that magically eliminates any White Russian unpleasantness, focusing on the assumed fraud — or is it? — of Anya’s identity.
The story, like the politics, is simplistic. But as fairy tale, the songs and entertaining performances click.