NY Review: 'Carrie'

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Photo Source: Joan Marcus
It's clear that a great deal of loving care and musical-theater intelligence have gone into the reworking of "Carrie," the musical version of Stephen King's bestselling novel that was an infamous 1988 Broadway flop. Shepherded by director Stafford Arima and reconceived on an intimate scale, the show has a clearer and tighter book and a more successfully integrated score. Unfortunately, the musical's central problem is unsolved: The only interesting characters are the mousy Carrie White and her fanatically religious mother, Margaret. Whenever they are not onstage, banality reigns.

Book writer Lawrence D. Cohen (who also wrote the hit 1976 screen adaptation), lyricist Dean Pitchford, and composer Michael Gore have happily followed Arima into the land of psychological realism, fleeing from the highly stylized Greek-tragedy lunacy of original director Terry Hands. This "Carrie" grounds itself in the mundanity of its setting, a working-class small town in Maine. The familiar story remains. The abusive Margaret prevents her daughter from fitting in, causing the bullying and harassment Carrie endures in high school. When the unsuspecting girl gets her first period while showering after gym class, the taunting is especially cruel. The incident sparks parallel story lines: Margaret's hold on Carrie loosens, particularly as her initiation into womanhood also results in her awareness of her telekinetic powers, and classmate Sue Snell's self-disgust at having joined in the viciousness fuels her attempts to befriend the poor girl, ending in Carrie's murderous destruction of the prom.

Industry chat boards have been abuzz with arguments about who is the better Margaret, original Betty Buckley or current Marin Mazzie, but comparisons are pointless. Buckley's memorable turn was fashioned to fit Hands' way-over-the-top production. It wouldn't work here, and Mazzie wisely underplays in a riveting, psychologically nuanced portrayal. She's notably good with Margaret's slow unraveling as she realizes that she has lost control of her daughter, leading to a devastating rendition of "When There's No One," the song in which Margaret, who does love Carrie in her own twisted way, decides that she must kill her to save her.

As Carrie, Molly Ranson is every bit as good, touching as the withdrawn and wary misfit, then persuasively charting Carrie's halting steps into life, culminating in the radiant young woman who goes off to the prom. Ranson is especially successful suggesting the boiling rage beneath Carrie's timid reserve, something she anchors early on in a strong rendition of the first-rate title song. Both women deploy their impressive voices with intelligence, moving in character-enhancing ways among clear soprano, lovely mix, and vivid belting (also a tribute to the fine music direction of Mary-Mitchell Campbell).

The supporting cast fares less well in largely new but still stubbornly generic songs. The actors playing teenagers tend to settle on a few surface choices and stick with them. Christy Altomare can't enliven the bland Sue and is saddled with delivering the awkward flashback narration in police-interrogation scenes. As Carrie's chief tormentor, the entitled Chris, Jeanna de Waal doesn't even search for a single moment of vulnerability, making Chris' supposedly close friendship with Sue unbelievable. As their respective boyfriends Tommy and Billy, Derek Klena and Ben Thompson are handsome but blank. Carmen Cusack can't do much with one-note gym teacher Lynn, but she does contribute an affecting rendition of "Unsuspecting Hearts," a duet with Carrie.

Arima's confident direction flows seamlessly, and he, choreographer Matt Williams, and the crack design team—David Zinn (set), Emily Rebholz (costumes), Kevin Adams (lights), Jonathan Deans (sound), and Sven Ortel (projections)—inventively pull off the bloody chaos of the rather underpopulated prom.

The creators have recoiled excessively from the hand of Hands. His damaging approach was nevertheless rooted in an instinct that the material lacked size. Brian De Palma's high cinematic style did the trick for the film. Ultimately, this "Carrie" feels too much like an adaptation of the resolutely flat 2002 TV version.

Presented by MCC Theater, by special arrangement with the Lucille Lortel Theatre Foundation, at the Lucille Lortel Theatre, 121 Christopher St., NYC. March 1–April 22. Tue., Wed., and Sun., 7 p.m.; Thu.–Sat., 8 p.m.; Sat. and Sun., 2 p.m. (212) 352-3101, (866) 811-4111, www.theatermania.com, or www.mcctheater.org. Casting by Telsey + Company.