“You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown” can be found on a suburban Chicago stage this week. And that’s about as unusual as Linus grabbing for his security blanket or Lucy behaving like a spoiled brat.
In the 31 years that have elapsed since Clark Gesner’s musical was first produced Off-Broadway at Theatre 80 St. Marks, there have been more than 30,000 North American productions (and plenty abroad) of this cheap and cheerful show based on Charles M. Schulz’s beloved comic strip, “Peanuts.” Originally scored for toy piano and drums (no kidding) and easily staged with a few blocks and a few kids–or overgrown kids–in sweaters and shorts, “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown” is a familiar theatrical endeavor of American community and high-school theater.
“This show,” allows its original producer, Gene Persson, “has become the first theatrical experience that most kids have in his country.”
Perhaps. But among the kinds of self-designated theatrical sophisticates who buy lots of expensive theater tickets, the very mention of the title evokes rolled eyes and a condescending simper. This is the literal stuff of the Hallmark Hall of Fame, and the musical’s score (the non-titular hits are “Suppertime” and “Happiness”) does not exactly harmonize with Sondheim-esque complexity. Up until now, “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown” has been a safe and sweet show that almost everyone has seen before–and far fewer want to see again.
So what on earth are B.D. Wong (the original star of “M Butterfly”), Anthony Rapp (one of the original stars of “Rent”) and Michael Mayer (one of America’s hottest young directors) all doing at the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts in Skokie through Nov. 28? Amazingly enough, this lofty group of young theatrical powerhouses are preparing the 1967 Peanuts musical for its grand debut on the Great White Way after a short tour to Wilmington, Del., Detroit, St. Louis and Boston. The initial, and quiet, Skokie gig is the fledgling New York-bound show’s first tryout (well away from prying New York critics). But barring unforeseen disasters on the road, its January arrival at the Longacre Theatre on West 48th Street is already set.
“You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown” opening on the Broadway of 1999? Well, good grief.
So why did the Chicago-based producer, Michael Leavitt, pick such a creaking musical chestnut for Fox Theatrical’s biggest and riskiest foray to date into the dangerous world of Broadway producing? And does he (not to mention Persson, who has some money in the new version too) seriously expect folks to pony up $75 on Broadway ($46-48 in Skokie) to watch a revamped singing-and-dancing comic strip?
You bet he does.
“I’ve always loved Peanuts,” Leavitt says. “We learned early on in this process that everyone in America relates to one of the six characters in this show. It transcends every ethnic stereotype.”
One cannot, of course, discount the popular appeal of theatrical musicals based on comics. Based on the popular cartoon stripcreated by Al Capp, “L’il Abner” ran for over 600 performances when it was first performed on Broadway in 1956 (the show was successfully revived, concert-style, in New York last season). And even if cartoon-based camp shows like “It’s a Bird! It’s a Plane! It’s Superman!” have thankfully now been forgotten, a certain red-headed, iron-lunged orphan (with pooch) still sells masses of ticket wherever she may warble.
And as for the Peanuts strip itself, it’s now been around for 49 years (the golden anniversary next year is, in part, what sparked this revival), has spawned a legion of TV specials, and is reportedly read by some 355 million people. It’s without doubt the most recognized cartoon strip in the world. And on Broadway, such a beloved (and, more importantly, familiar) source can provide a potential audience with a vital emotional entree.
It also helps snag hip stars with a lust for, well, kinder, gentler theater.
“I played Snoopy when I was 7 years old,” says Anthony Rapp, recklessly dashing his “Rent”-induced street credibility in favor of playing a hand-drawn kid with a really big, round head. “In this cynical time, there aren’t many shows that bring sheer, unadulterated pleasure. It operates from a place of honesty, heart and truth.
Even Mayer (who previously directed the chic “Side Man” in New York and the very un-cartoonish “Angels in America” in Chicago) sounds like a small child when he talks about the singing Snoopy et al.
“I played the record over and over when I was 10,” he enthuses. “It’s so sweet.”
But even as they ooze nostalgic sentiment, these men know very well that the dated show will have no chance on this level of production unless it’s given a major whack into the present. And if the creative team is to be believed, that’s exactly what’s slated to happen in Skokie.
“This will not be,” says Mayer, managing remarkable gravitas, “your father’s `Charlie Brown.’ “
Although the precise content of this show is still very much an unknown, the most significant differences expected for this previewing revival include a multiracial cast (a foreign concept when the show was first produced), bringing to life an Asian-American Linus (Wong) and an African-American Schroeder (Stanley Wayne Mathis). The Day-Glo rehearsal blocks and turtleneck sweaters are out–in their place will be what Mayer describes as “fully-realized costumes and scenic environments” (the work of Michael Krass and David Gallo.
The book of the show has been given a major (and anonymous) overhaul, all of the orchestrations are new and enlarged, and there will be a least one entirely fresh musical number (assuming it works in previews).
Most interesting of all, the fixers (with input from Schulz himself) have created an completely new theatrical character–Charlie Brown’s laconic little sister, Sally (Kristin Chenoweth). That addition should solve a long-standing problem with this show, written well before the appearance in the Peanuts strip of Peppermint Pattie.
While there was always a Pattie in the theatrical show, she was not the beloved peppermint variety but an all-purpose amalgam of most of Schulz’s non-Lucy female characters. The new version nixes generic Pattie in favor of the emotionally challenged but avowedly specific Sally (who gets the big new number with Schroeder). And the irascible Lucy (now played by Ilana Levine) thankfully came through the revisions unscathed.
“Our point here,” says Mayer, “is not to turn the music into rap or destroy the charm and simplicity of the material. We’re just trying to reinterpret the show, make it fresh, and bring it into the 1990s.”
“I just hope,” says Rapp, with the moralistic air of a man with a cause (and perhaps betraying some of the same insecurity as the kid whom Valentine’s Day always passed by), “that people here are nice to us.”
