Chess, anyone?
Arlington, Virginia—The eponymous highbrow 1980s musical, an imaginative retelling of a legendary Cold War chess duel, had a decidedly checkered career in its first outings, triumphing in London but bombing on Broadway. The newly retooled and updated version of the show, now playing in Arlington’s snazzy Signature Theatre, is a genuinely exciting late summer treat. It shows considerably more promise of success in 2010 than did its predecessors, the result of a cleaner plot line, a trio of fantastic lead singers—Euan Morton, Jill Paice, and Jeremy Kushnier—and a high energy performance by the entire cast and crew.
Euan Morton, Jill Paice, and Jeremy Kushnier
star in Signature Theatre's production of Chess,
Aug 10 – Sep 26, 2010.
(Photo credit: Chris Mueller.)
Chess is loosely based on the “chess match of the century,” which pitted Bobby Fischer, the youthful upstart American chess champ against the Soviet Union’s cerebral chess hero, Boris Spassky. For those who can remember back that far, this 1972 match, staged in Reykjavíc, Iceland was a sensation, an early reality show fought out on the front pages of the world’s newspapers.
For many, the moody, strange, impetuous American champ was the Free World’s best hope for winning the crown in a game that many believed the Soviets may have been rigging for decades. But Fischer did himself no favors with his disdain for tournament officials, the audience, and anyone for that matter who seemed to get in his way. Fischer ultimately triumphed, having psyched out his opponent with his over-the-top antics. But when pushed later in the decade for a rematch, he forfeited his title forever by refusing to agree to terms.
The story haunted lyricist Tim Rice for years. He finally got together with ABBA rockers Björn UIvaeus and Benny Andersson to put together a concept album of songs on the subject to serve as a sort of stalking horse for an eventual musical, blending the Cold War political overtones of the epic match.
Match of the Century. Euan Morton,
Chris Sizemore, and Jeremy Kushnier.
(Photo credit Scott Suchman.)
The 1984 album’s success led to the actual show, with a book by Richard Nelson. This first production of Chess debuted in London’s West End in 1986 to mostly rave reviews, though the show did have its detractors. With some revisions, it was staged on Broadway in 1988 where it was decidedly less than a success. While it’s occasionally been mounted in various versions since then, it’s never returned to its original venues. It's fair to say, pun intended, that this is a show with a truly checkered history.
But that's a shame. Chess' music pulses with an identifiably Euro-rock beat. Yet it's much better, much more sophisticated than standard pop fare. Coupled with Rice's intelligent and often challenging lyrics, the tunes frequently approach art-song turf with their complex harmonies and unexpected tonal changes. It's music that at times almost reminds one of contemporary opera's dark edginess.
The problem with the original show, however, was that its concept was too ambitious. The creative team threw in plenty of chess jokes and references—rather esoteric to American audiences today—and muddled the original story line by staging the match in two different venues, drawing from other tournaments that occurred after the 1972 championship match.
Signature's version of the show—its first major U.S. production in nearly 20 years—arguably makes for a better evening of musical theater. Under the able direction of Eric Shaeffer, the Bangkok and Budapest material is swapped, moving the show's most scintillating songs up front and adding considerable energy and forward motion to the plot. The in-crowd chess chess stuff is largely shelved, save for the Arbiter's big production number early on. As a happy result, the political intrigue, intertwined with Chess' unusual (and fictional) love story, arrives front and center where it should have been all along. This new version finally has some real focus.
Signature's Chess jumps the action forward a bit from historical 1972 to 1986. Here we discover the obnoxious American grandmaster, Freddie Trumper (Jeremy Kushnier) on the fly, engaged in a battle of wits with Soviet grandmaster Anatoly Sergievsky (Euan Morton), the tournament's officials—ably represented by the Arbiter (Chris Sizemore)—and, of course, the ever-present media, up close and personal as usual.
Making things more complicated are the American and Soviet "seconds," or backups, Florence (Jill Paice) and Molokov (Christopher Bloch). Florence is a thoroughly Americanized refugee from the Budapest uprising of 1956 (in which city the second half of the tourney will be held). Molokov, quite clearly, is a KGB "handler," meant to keep the Soviet chess star in line for the mother country. Making things even more interesting, it seems that Freddie's glib PR agent, Walter, may have some ties to the CIA himself.
Jill Paice and Euan Morton sing Terrace Duet.
(Photo credit Scott Suchman.)
In short order, Freddie's overpowering ego and crass behavior in public drives the beautiful Florence into Anatoly's arms. Things only get messier from there.
The characters in this revamped Chess are still not quite three-dimensional, a problem with the original. But, aided and abetted by strong acting and singing as well as a terrific performance by the small, percussive orchestra under the baton of Jenny Cartney, this show rocks as well as moves, providing a scintillating and rewarding evening of musical theater for even the pickiest of aficionados.
Brash, thoughtless, thorougly dislikable, yet strangely vulnerable, Jeremy Kushnier's Freddie is a tour de force, crackling with manic energy in the show's best known song, "One Night in Bangkok." He has his own tragic backstory, too, outlined in the moving song "Pity the Child," which draws on Bobby Fischer's own hideously bizarre childhood. Kushnier is the life force that drives Signature's Chess irresistably onward toward its tragically ironic yet seemingly foregone conclusion.
As the deeper, moodier, more complex Anatoly, Euan Morton is sensational as he evolves into the show's unexpectedly passionate romantic lead. His Anatoly is, in an awkward, Cold War way, the one genuinely honorable character in this show. But, as in much of life, no good deed ultimately goes unpunished--something he begins to realize in another of the show's memorable songs, "Anthem," which concludes the first act.
As Florence, the hapless girl in the middle, Jill Paice is sleekly beautiful, kinetic, and overwhelmed with patriotic and personal emotions that result in a bittersweet victory of sorts. Self-assured and gifted with a knife-edged yet silvery soprano voice, Paice is eminently believable as the chess match's true prize, a woman of beauty, brains, and grace whose steadfast loyalty asks only for love and respect in return.
As the show's moderately evil not-so-secret agents, both Christopher Bloch (Molokov) and Russell Sunday (Walter) are oddly sympathetic as guys who do terrible things while realizing that they, too, are merely tools of something much larger than themselves. It's an attitude that Washington theatergoers will readily recognize.
In addition to the primary soloists, Eleasha Gamble adds a key element as Svetlana, Anatoly's estranged wife. She shows up more or less annanounced in the second act as part of the KGB's ploy to get Anatoly back in the Soviet fold and away from his new American love interest. Gamble's tentative, cooly distanced approach to the role is a major contribution to the show, adding to and deepening its central personal and political tragedies.
While the principals in this production are top-notch, this iteration of Chess is truly a team effort. Additional hat tips are in order for David Holcenberg's nearly symphonic new arrangements to the show's original rock score; Karma Camp's compact and edgy choreography; and Dan Conway's sleek, Vegas-style set.
Brickbats? A few. The cast seemed a bit pooped out near the end of Sunday's evening show. Perhaps they were already worn out a bit from an earlier 2pm matinee performance. In any event, their top notes were sloppy in "Endgame," the evening's penultimate ensemble number. Additionally, the thumping visuals and mildly erotic dancing in the "One Night in Bangkok" ensemble may have seemed reasonable evocative of this exotic locale. Unless, of course, you've actually sampled Bangkok's surreal nightlife yourself, which your reviewer has. Chess' "One Night" is positively Disneyfied in comparison to the real deal.
The show's sound, at times, seemed ever-so-slightly over-amped. Fortunately, the cast's enunciation and dialogue were clear as a bell about ninety percent of the time, a combination of great diction and decent mixing. It's nice to actually hear the lyrics in a rock-style musical for a change. A thought, though. For a show that at times approached the operatic, however, one wonders how this music would sound in a purely acoustic arrangement.
The Signature's fantastic Chess continues through September 26. It's a must see for theatergoers who want to stretch out that last little bit of summer with something new and different. For tickets and info, head for Signature's website by clicking here.
Rating: ***½ (Three and one-half stars.)
LATE UPDATE: The good word gets out. Chess has been extended through October 3, 2010. Tickets for the extended run will go on sale on September 7. Same link as above.
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