It’s big...and it’s good. For a while now my colleagues and I have been complaining about the dearth of imagination on Broadway, wherein new musicals -- which used to rely on novels for their storylines -- now turn to the movies for their ideas. What struck me while watching Big, Richard Maltby Jr., David Shire, and John Weidman’s adaptation of the charming Penny Marshall film, was that my grievance may have been more specifically aimed at those who adapt film musicals (Beauty and the Beast, State Fair, Victor/Victoria) because the hardest work has already been done by others. On the other hand, My Favorite Year, Grand Hotel, and Sunset Boulevard, three very strong Broadway musicals based on dramatic films, not only forced their creators to write songs but to integrate them into a story told for the stage.
To that end, Messrs. Maltby and Shire prove their professional mettle. After all the pastiche-revues we’ve seen pass for “new” musicals, it’s good to find a show with numbers titled, “This isn’t Me,” “Josh’s Welcome,” “One Special Man,” and “When You’re Big” -- gosh, someone remembered how to write an old-fashioned musical. Which isn’t to say David Shire has come up with any melodies as big as the toys in Robin Wagner’s onstage recreation of FAO Schwartz, or as sweet as the basic story, which has a little boy in a grown man’s body trying to function in the corporate and romantic world of New York. From the Gary Ross/Anne Spielberg screenplay, librettist John Weidman has fashioned a classically structured book musical -- an effort that wrings many laughs, even more smiles of appreciation, though, oddly no tears. (One could also quibble about the loose ends, such as what happens to Josh’s dad -- does he simply disappear?)
If there’s anything in Big to be excited about, rather than merely pleasantly surprised, it’s the arrival of a new Broadway musical star, Daniel Jenkins, who mixes goofiness with shyness, childlike curiosity with Jimmy Stewart pluck. As the button-down corporate cutie who falls in love with Josh’s purity, Crista Moore offers both legs and legato, though she doesn’t project the natural warmth of Barbara Walsh (as Josh’s mom), who gets too little stage time. Nice work from Jon Cypher as the woolly voiced, bully boss and teenaged Lizzy Mack as adolescent Josh’s dreamgirl. She eventually becomes part of the kid chorus, but we notice her dancing and stage smarts each time out of the box.
Gene Weygandt might find more shadings to his villainous Paul, as he currently reminds me of Herb, the ad salesman in "WKRP in Cincinnati." Though saddled with a song in the wrong key for him (“I Want to Know”), Patrick Levis is a capable young Josh. Brett Tabisel, as the boy’s best friend Billy, is a winning comic sidekick; when he jokes about being “a white Polish kid” trying vainly to rap, we believe it.
For all Big’s colorless rapping, it does have a rainbow wrapping, and the gift inside the box is certainly worth a spin or two. Oh, and though the “keyboard scene” goes on too long in a Will Rogers Follies-inspired kickline, the set-up actually outdoes the movie in cleverness and charm.
