I’m not surprised that A Bronx Tale: The New Musical has found its way to Broadway following its run last February at the Paper Mill Playhouse. It’s an okay show with a pleasing score, a mostly predictable plot, and ingratiating performances. It’s also okay if you, like me, never saw A Bronx Tale, either in its original form as a one-man Off-Broadway show in 1989, the 1993 fleshed-out film version, or its return engagement on Broadway in 2007 in which its author and star Chazz Palminteri once again took the audience back to the 1960s Bronx neighborhood of his youth. It’s where he grew up under the influence of two father figures, his own an upstanding bus driver and that of the local Godfather.
The introduction, for myself, to this somewhat dark, purposefully discomforting tale told in the light of its latest incarnation as a musical turns out to be for the most part an enjoyable entertainment. This song-filled, exuberantly acted, and smartly staged trip down one man’s unapologetically sentimentalized memory lane should please the folks who harbor nostalgic memories of neighborhoods divided by racial lines and territorial gangsters.
Despite its tendency (make that its aim) to romanticize the thugs and goons that reigned over New York’s ethnic-divided neighborhoods as did also the more homogeneous ones like Manhattan in the much more satirical Guys and Dolls, this autobiographical musical does neither completely glorify nor wholeheartedly denounce these denizens. Comfortable with killing as they are, these often deplorable characters are cautiously idolized, in the eyes of its youthful narrator who as a nine year-old witnesses a street killing.
Under the guidance of two directors Jerry Zaks (who helmed the stage version) and Robert De Niro (who directed the film), the production, has, as its main asset, a vibrant score by Hollywood and Disney favorite Alan Menken (Little Shop of Horrors, Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, Newsies, Aladdin) that essentially puts the show into its orbit. Its joyously integrated sounds of the doo-wop era are perfectly blended in the best Broadway tradition.
Menken’s collaborator-lyricist Glen Slater (The Little Mermaid) who is also represented now on Broadway by School of Rock, has done beautifully by empowering the ear-pleasing melodies with street lingo and with an unaffected honesty. One song “Nicky Machiavelli,” in which top gangster Sonny (as played with sustained panache by Nick Cordero) conveys to the young Calogero (at the performance I saw a wonderful Hudson Loverro who is alternating with Athen Sporek) the philosophy that he acquired doing time in prison.
It’s that conflict of philosophies between the swaggering Sonny and that of Calogero’s loving but stern father Lorenzo (Richard H. Blake) that is the basis for the plot. Lorenzo has to keep reminding Calogero that there is “nothing so sad as a talent that’s wasted.” Which philosophical perspective is the one Calogero is to believe confuses the impressionable youth. His choice, as the musical would have us believe, basically determines his moral and ethical path for the next eight years.
The show effectively uses both the young Calogero and an excellent Bobby Conte Thornton as the seventeen-year-old version, who serves as the musical’s narrator throughout. He also cleverly shadows his younger self in the early scenes.
Not quite left in the shadows is Calogero’s loving mother Rosina, played with warmth to spare by Lucia Giannetta. She gets to reprise a lovely ballad, “Look to Your Heart,” previously introduced by her husband and son. The musical also considers the racial divide between the blacks who live in the Webster Avenue section and the Italians who live in the Belmont Ave section of the borough. A sweet but also dangerous romance blossoms between Calogero and Jane, a pretty black student who is appealingly played by Ariana DeBose. It triggers violence and a tragedy.
Notwithstanding shades of West Side Story in the plot, the choreography by Sergio Trujillo is exciting as it offers dynamic dancing by both the black and white performers. Sweet moments are also supplied by a street-corner doo-wop quartet.
Beowulf Borritt’s spectacular set design frames the action with towering rotating tenements with metal fire escape balconies, as well as the row houses on 187 St and Belmont Avenue. The local bar and other locations are seamlessly integrated, all under the superb lighting by Howell Binkley. As expected, costume designer William Ivey Long captures the look of the era perfectly with his expected flair. There is no doubt that the habitués of Shubert Alley will enjoy this diverting trip to Belmont Avenue.
