Even if you haven’t actually seen the 1976 movie “Rocky,” you think you have. You recognize the distinctive music, “Ba ba ba ba ba ba bum da da da”; you’ve heard the catchphrase “Yo, Adrian,” a million times; and you’ve seen the montage of the sweat-suited fighter running up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art (where the larger-than-life statue now stands, attracting eager tourists). And has anyone on the planet not heard the tale of how a down-and-out Sylvester Stallone penned the story but refused to sell it unless he was the star?
So . . . why bother bringing the boxing story to Broadway, and as a musical, no less? Word has it that Stallone has spent a decade working on the idea, and putting together the ideal team hasn’t been easy. The show has rung up a bill of $16.5 million dollars; a cast of 30 is involved; and for the much anticipated match between underdog Rocky and champ Apollo Creed, a regulation-size boxing ring appears, displacing the first eight rows of the audience.
But it was still an uphill battle to get the show on the boards. Help came from unlikely sources: the Klitschko brothers, Ukrainian boxers; and a team of German producers. A pre-Broadway tryout in Hamburg took place after an eight-month period of translating the script into German. Rocky das Musical scored a hit, and American producers became convinced that a Broadway run could indeed be profitable.
The question remains: does it work? The answer has to be a somewhat qualified “yes.” The gritty Philly feeling is still an integral part of Rocky’s story, and the onstage taped montage of the training for the match works very well building excitement. The actors do a fine job. Andy Karl is both rugged and vulnerable in the lead role; Margo Seibert is much too pretty to be the dowdy Adrian, but she allows us to see how a broken spirit cripples self-esteem; Terence Archie, who learned German to go to Europe with the show, is a standout as Apollo.
The problem is evident; this is actually two different shows. The first part is a tender love story of a man and a woman who are like damaged toys, afraid to hope that it might be their turn to love and be loved. The second is an exciting confrontation between powerhouse fighters, complete with scantily dressed “Apollo girls” in the ring parading signs with the upcoming round. Would it be possible to keep the same level of rousing enthusiasm all through the production? Very doubtful, but the quieter moments are to be appreciated.
Rocky on Broadway is enjoyable enough to stand on its own merits. The music, both familiar and new, is well done. The staging is vigorous and instrumental in keeping the audience interested, even as we await the big fight scene. The performers are appealing and sympathetic.
It’s been quite a battle for Stallone and his alter ego, but Rocky is now beating the odds on the Great White Way. I want to suggest to tourists visiting our great city this summer that if women want to get their husbands to go to the theater, and to actually enjoy themselves, Rocky is just the ticket.
