"The Rothschilds"
The season's first musical, "The
Rothschilds," chronicles that
celebrated family's rise from the
ghetto of Frankfort to a position of
financial power and influence
throughout Europe. This story of
an oppressed yet ambitious Jew and
his five sons has a built-in ethnic
drawing power on Broadway which
will add months to its run, but it
also has an insurmountable built-in
railing in that we are never able to
really care about all except maybe
one of the characters.
Trying to pinpoint precisely
where an unsatisfying musical went
wrong is always tricky business, but
I think in this case the primary
cause of death can be traced to the
fact that composer Jerry Bock and
lyricist Sheldon Harnick have
written too many expository songs
and too few which convey and
heighten the emotions of the
principal characters. In any event,
the score is fairly insipid, and most
of it is easily forgettable. As for
Sherman Yellen's book, it has a
considerable number of laughs, but
seems in need of more, well,
personality.
As Mayer Rothschild, a cross
between an honest Fagin and a
megalomaniacal Tevye. Hal Linden
radiates much warmth and cultured
talent, and he has the good fortune
to have the show's only distinctive
songs, "One Room" (which he sings
with his wife, convincingly played
by Leila Martin) and "In My Own
Lifetime." Paul Hecht turns in a
fine performance as son Nathan
(the only son focused on to any
significant extent and awkwardly at
that) and Keene Curtis does well in
his four important roles.
John Bury's costumes are
stunning and Michael Kidd's staging
is often impressive. But, unless it
was extensively re-written, I don't
think "The Rothschilds" could get
off the ground even if NASA put it
atop the Saturn 5.
