The Valiant Few

AT&T is, let us face it, not exciting, but many a theatrical angel must be wishing this spring that he had socked away his spare dollars in telephone stocks rather than in that cannot-fail, dollars-will-be-coming-right-out-of-your-ears musical which was going to be the hottest thing on Broadway since My Fair Lady—if not Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Some shows—but not those on which the real money was to be made—were just about as sure (of success) as they could be: by the simple expedient of hiring the best. Enlist the hit-producing writing team of Lindsay and Crouse, add to it the music and lyrics of Rodgers and Hammerstein, toss in the prestigious Mary Martin and—as insurance against critical fallout—top it off with not one, but seven children, and if you haven’t a certified (Times, Herald Tribune, Time, New Yorker) hit, still there’s that comfortable $2 million plus advance box-office sale which will ensure that enough people will get around to seeing The Sound of Music (the play) to ensure that “The Sound of Music” (the song) gets registered in the national consciousness with, or without, benefit of payola.

But by and large, the musical hits of the season (i.e., any show that survived its first month) have been sleepers. The Pulitzer Prize-winning Fiorello! (reviewed NR, January 16, 1960) was such a show, and so, too— although far from major league—is a late season starter, Bye Bye Birdie. Bye Bye Birdie will never win the Critics Award. But anyone who is, from mildly to madly, irritated by the Elvis Presley aberration should enjoy this light-hearted and non-sociological spoof at rock ’n’ roll’s Panjandrum-in-Chief.

PL

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Priscilla L. Buckley

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AT&T is, let us face it, not exciting, but many a theatrical angel must be wishing this spring that he had socked away his spare dollars in telephone stocks rather than in that cannot-fail, dollars-will-be-coming-right-out-of-your-ears musical which was going to be the hottest thing on Broadway since My Fair Lady—if not Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Some shows—but not those on which the real money was to be made—were just about as sure (of success) as they could be: by the simple expedient of hiring the best. Enlist the hit-producing writing team of Lindsay and Crouse, add to it the music and lyrics of Rodgers and Hammerstein, toss in the prestigious Mary Martin and—as insurance against critical fallout—top it off with not one, but seven children, and if you haven’t a certified (Times, Herald Tribune, Time, New Yorker) hit, still there’s that comfortable $2 million plus advance box-office sale which will ensure that enough people will get around to seeing The Sound of Music (the play) to ensure that “The Sound of Music” (the song) gets registered in the national consciousness with, or without, benefit of payola.

But by and large, the musical hits of the season (i.e., any show that survived its first month) have been sleepers. The Pulitzer Prize-winning Fiorello! (reviewed NR, January 16, 1960) was such a show, and so, too— although far from major league—is a late season starter, Bye Bye Birdie. Bye Bye Birdie will never win the Critics Award. But anyone who is, from mildly to madly, irritated by the Elvis Presley aberration should enjoy this light-hearted and non-sociological spoof at rock ’n’ roll’s Panjandrum-in-Chief.