"The Best Damn Musical!"/The First Fifty Years of the Fabulous "Gypsy." In Seven Parts. Part 7.

MENDES VERSUS LAURENTS
As much as I like "Gypsy" the show, I prefer "Gypsy" the movie - the 1962 Mervyn LeRoy theatrical version, not the arch 1993 Emile Ardolino TV version.

Frankly, without exaggeration, I can say that every stage production of the show has somehow let me down. Part of this has to do with the built-in lop-sidedness of the material: The first half, song-heavy, is all musical; the second half is essentially a straight drama with a few songs, most of them performed on stage.

Believe me, the film version's elimination of the intermission helps a great deal, somehow making the transition smoother.

The 2003 revival, despite the presence of a grotesquely miscast Bernadette Peters in the lead role, offered promise. The director was Oscar-winning filmmaker Sam Mendes ("American Beauty") and I thought, "Great! Maybe we'll finally get a revolutionary version of 'Gypsy.'" I had a dream, to borrow a recurring line from the show. Perhaps Mendes would reinstate the lost "Mama's Talking Soft" number.

Enter Arthur Laurents who, apparently, would have none of this. No tampering with his baby. Laurents, for all intents and purposes, is the real Mama Rose of "Gypsy," seeming always to be refining his fine script (himself) and, for better or worse, clutching on to it and protecting it with a proprietary - nay, territorial - fervor.

I had a dream, yes - but it was not to be.
LAURENTS & SPIGELGASS & SONDHEIM (Part Two)
I must reiterate that the writing is what makes "Gypsy" transcendent - the core script by Arthur Laurents, the sensitive cinematic tweaking of Leonard Spigelgass and the witty lyrics of Stephen Sondheim.

Spigelgass's shooting script for LeRoy's "Gypsy" was much longer that what ended up on screen. Laurents's script was preserved just about intact, some narration was added and new scenes were invented for the film.

One of Spigelgass's addition was the inclusion of a scene set in Klamath Falls (see photos above and to the right) where Rose, wearing widow weeds and her girls carrying pet birds in cages, seeks work from Mr. Beckman (played by James Millhollin, who was cut from the film), who owns the Bijou Theatre there and is also "one of mama's brothers," a high mogul. Mr. Beckman (called Barton in Spigelgass's shooting script; Beckman in the finished film) is also the father of Tulsa, a kid who, according to his dad, spends too much time "jigging" (i.e., dancing).

When Rose adds boys to the act, she talks of recruiting "that jigger kid from Klamath Falls." Tulsa, of course, eventually becomes Louise's secret love interest and plays a crucial role in her development into Gypsy.

Enter Jack Warner who, apparently, would have none of this. No tampering with his baby.

While most of what Spigelgass wrote was filmed, none of it was used. Warner made sure his "Gypsy" would be a near-carbon copy of the show.

And so what's on screen comes directly from the play. If there's anything wrong with it, it's because there's something wrong with the source material. There's virtually no difference between the stage "Gypsy" and the movie "Gypsy" - except that the movie is better. Got that?

Roz Russell in a scene cut from the final film.

LISTEN UP!

Finally, the ever-resourceful You Tube site has a few must-see clips of Russell doing her own singing in "Gypsy," including "Small World," "Some People," "You'll Never Get Away from Me" and "Everything's Coming Up Roses."

Finally, you can revel in the jarring weirdness of Ethel Merman's voice coming out of Rosalind Russell's mouth in the big finale, "Rose's Turn." Mama's really talking loud now.

Enjoy!

Note in Passing: David Cairns' nifty Shadowplay site offers an incisive anaylsis of LeRoy's "Gypsy" by guest writer/occasional contributor David Melville, based on a recent screening at the Edinburgh Filmhouse.

By all means, check it out.