Matthew Murphy
An American in Paris Touring Company.
An American in Paris, which has taken over Overture Hall through March 4, is a dazzling visual spectacle — full of some of the most ambitious choreography and classical ballet that’s ever been integrated into musical theater.
The production also revels in its lush score by George and Ira Gershwin, expertly performed by musicians who travel with the company. The Broadway musical, based on the 1951 Gene Kelly film, took home four Tony Awards during its 16-month run on Broadway. The film itself was inspired by the music of George Gershwin — a 20-minute symphonic tone poem commissioned by the New York Philharmonic in 1928. The music, story and celebration that is An American In Paris may have had a long journey through many iterations before arriving in Madison, but judging from the opening night performance, it was well worth the wait.
The narrative, lifted primarily from the classic movie, is paper thin. At the end of World War II, Parisians are trying to rebuild their city and their lives after years of Nazi occupation. Newly discharged, a couple of former American soldiers decide to try their luck in the City of Lights instead of returning home. They become fast friends and quickly also become part of the arts crowd. Jerry Mulligan is a budding painter who has fallen in love with a mysterious Parisian dancer. Adam Hochberg is a composer who accompanies the ballet, and has also lost his heart to a dancer. He also works with wealthy would-be song-and-dance man Henri, an under-talented Frenchman who is developing an act for a jazz club. Strangely enough, Henri is getting ready to propose to a dancer. And as happens only in the world of Hollywood and Broadway, the delicate and captivating dancer they worship happens to be the same girl; Lise, a gifted but somewhat sullen beauty who is making her stage debut.
As the cynical Adam, Matthew Scott is our charming guide, as he recalls the heady postwar days of his youth. Scott not only delivers some of the funniest lines of the show, he also gives us the most heart. As he struggles to find his voice as a composer and come to terms with a war wound that will forever change him, he watches his love give her favor to others — he is the noble best friend to the guy who always gets the girl. Scott’s singing voice is by far the strongest of the male leads; he provides both weight and levity.
McGee Maddox fills the very large shoes of Gene Kelly as Jerry, an eminently masculine hero who also happens to dance like a dream. Maddox’s extensive background in ballet is evident with every powerful and graceful step. His 1950s-era swagger and confidence in pursuing a woman he wants is also on full display, but his incredibly athletic dance prowess outshines both his singing and acting abilities.
The same can be said for the much-pursued, elusive dancer Lise, played by Allison Walsh. Previously a soloist with the Joffrey Ballet, her small, lithe body seems to fly and float across the stage. Her extensive dance sequences are among the most captivating moments of the production — on pointe or frolicking on the Left Bank with Jerry. While she has a fine singing voice, Walsh frequently seems disconnected from the story she’s telling. And though her role as a Jewish refugee from the war doesn’t allow her much range, she shows even less real emotional engagement with her many love interests.
The knockout choreography by Christopher Weldon —including an extensive ballet sequence toward the end of the show — makes An American in Paris a feast for the eyes. It’s complemented by a magically inventive set that mixes practical furniture and props with large mirrored panels that transform into dozens of backdrops with the aid of gorgeously rendered video projections. Although film can often overwhelm a live production, reducing the actors to tiny players in front of a giant movie, it’s used here to creatively establish place and then recede to the background. The effect of setting the scene with an animated sketch of Paris — one that our protagonist Jerry might make — that’s then filled in with black-and-white photos, which slowly take on color, is a terrific metaphor for the time period and the story. They are also beautiful in their own right.
As an audience member who normally revels in narrative, I was swept away by the sheer beauty of this production that was largely independent of plot. Much like the landmark film, here the story is an excuse to celebrate Paris, love, extraordinary dance and the inimitable music of George and Ira Gershwin. And that is more than enough.