Project Blog: October 20, 2009
Memory as Entertainment
"How fast can you write a show?" he bluntly asked after shaking my hand. "When do you need it?" Lee and I joked in chorus without thinking. The very serious question came from producer Don Gregory on a hot summer Manhattan day as we stood in the doorway of a plush suite in the Waldorf Towers. So began the longest hurry-up-and-wait musical ever conceived.
On my way to that first meeting, I kept wondering what kind of morons were making a musical about a man who was famous for being silent.
As the story goes, Broadway producer Don Gregory and the inimitable [insert other adjectives here] Anthony Newley had decided to collaborate on a musical about Charlie Chaplin; Newley was to write and direct the show. Soon, ego loomed and Newley decided to star as Chaplin as well. Don wisely nixed that notion and a war of musicals commenced. Newley stormed off to create his own vehicle featuring an age appropriate Chaplin, and Gregory hired Emmy award winner Ernest Kinoy to create a script about a young Charlie.
Lee and I came to Don's attention since we did indeed write quickly and were represented by Kinoy's agency, William Morris. It didn't hurt that Rodgers & Hammerstein had just brought us into the family (a first at the time) with a publishing deal, and "Shine" was getting a lot of the ever-desired "buzz."
Ernest quickly began explaining details of plot and whimsy that would guide the concept, how specific film moments would be subtly pre-referenced in biography (Dixie-boy Anderson had never seen a Chaplin film in its entirety), adding hints of psychology and mentioning authentic period songs that might help us, and revealing the stunning commedia connection. Don interrupted, "I want a tune like 'Smile'," turning to glare in my direction. "When can I hear it?" My thoughts were fixed on the fact there wasn't any food in these swanky digs. I thought we were going to have lunch. I told them I'd take a walk and come back in an hour with the tune.
I was naive in those days, but not enough to think I could compete with composer Charlie. But somewhere along Lexington Avenue I found it. Something Ernest said: "None of it is real, it's just pretending." So I gave my best shot at a simple melody a mother could hum to a sleepy child, a concertina could breath in and out on a lonely street, and a searching man could never get out of his head. A big order.
But Don Gregory loved it and we were hired and the best of times and the worst of times where ahead of us. Writing such a multi-style specific show at that age challenged my classical music skillset not to mention my newly acquired give-em-a-bouncy-C education from the Broadway gang. My greatest satisfaction? Years later, Chaplin's daughter saw the show and admired it a lot. At dinner, I nervously asked specifically about the little tune that weaves through the evening; would her daddy approve? She smiled and whispered, "He would recognize it."
Though we never made it to that Broadway opening night, "Chaplin" remains unique; a fascinating evening of biography and song, stagecraft and comedic history, developed by some of the most eloquent Broadway talent of the day (and since). Yes, it's a big ol' classic musical about a man destined to become iconic for being silent. But ours is the Chaplin entertainment most don't know -- a young unknown Charlie on a fanciful adventure through time and memory, searching for answers. And we knew early on that the play must end when The Little Fella arrives; only the arrogant or foolish tread in that territory. Afterall, Charlie is watching.
more info at chaplinthemusical.com
