I have an abiding affection for musicals, though in a peculiar way where the one Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode is more central to the concept for me than Oklahoma! I also have a good friend who lives and breathes them, and after a bit of research this seemed like an excellent birthday gift for her (I insist on getting people books as gifts whenever possible, because I hate myself). Thankfully, even as someone with only a moderate interest in the subject, this was a light, engrossing and even educational read.
The book is about what Viertel calls the Golden Age Broadway Musical – its cultural lineage, its rise and fall, its structure and anatomy, and the whole world that grew up around it. Viertel has spent more or less his entire adult life working in and around them, and the book is adapted from a set of lectures given to aspiring theatre professionals (if, one assumes, softened and punched up for a general audience of fans). The book’s thesis is that there is a peculiarly American stage musical tradition, and that works that follow in it have a surprisingly consistent structure (even if the truly incredible ones inevitably deviate from it here or there). Each chapter of the book is organized around a piece of that structure, from overture to curtain call, with a double-handful of examples drawn from throughout to provide illustrative examples.
All of which is fairly interesting – and the template Viertel lays out does seem to fit the works he’s based it on – but by far the bigger draw of the book for me was as a cultural history of Broadway’s Golden Age (here defined as ending some time in the 1970s, whereupon the scene spent a few decades more or less surviving on British imports before a recent revival). As mentioned, I’ve got a passing interest in musicals, enough that I’d heard of a lot of the shows, creatives and stars mentioned but couldn’t tell you a single thing about them. While hardly exhaustive or encyclopedic, the book does a good job explaining the significance of the standouts and defining personalities, as well as the development of the musical from prewar operettas and vaudeville acts to its recognizable modern form.
In the process it also accomplished something I always treasure in a history – it actually gives a sense of the world around the subject, captures a bit of the experience of living through it, and of the wider cultural milieu and how it shaped it. The incredibly emic nature of the book helps a lot with this, of course – Viertel lived through basically everything he’s writing about and saw most of it firsthand (if only from the audience).
Viertel’s voice and perspective save the whole thing from being a bit of a dry textbook, honestly. He’s opinionated, biased, blinkered, clearly reminiscing about the Good Old Days for one chunk of the book and clearly yelling at clouds for another. Generally, he gleefully leans into the role of the cantankerous old mentor he’s written for himself. The things he just takes as givens and doesn’t even bother to justify – that musicals, whatever else they aspire to be, are first and most fundamentally romances, for example – are often more interesting to turn over than the stuff he’s explicitly trying to teach. Even the occasional rambling detours into memoir are usually pretty interesting.
I’ve said that the template Viertel lays out seems to fit the plays he uses as examples for it, but it’s hardly like I know them all well enough to do more than take his word for it. Still, even if I’m never going to have anything to do with producing a musical, as a guide and as a list of tips and guidelines for creating compelling, melodramatic works of fiction there’s a lot that seems worth stealing for the creative work I do dabble in.
Though really, most of all, the book has absolutely convinced me I need to see a live production of Fiddler on the Roof.