After scores of movies and TV shows — starring everyone from Douglas Fairbanks to Michael York to Mickey, Donald and Goofy — “The Three Musketeers” has become a cultural icon, collectively owned. We like its leading quartet of heroic characters — Athos, Aramis, Porthos and, above all, that feisty kid, D’Artagnan. We boo the villains: Cardinal Richelieu and his cheesy sidekick, Rochefort. We cherish the style –swashbuckling period swordplay sprinkled with wit and seasoned with dashing romance. And we love the tag line — “All for one and one for all.”
And, above all, we’re invested in the story, something along the lines of D’Artagnan wants to be a Musketeer, but must first prove himself a man to the satisfaction of his surrogate fathers (who, in turn, need to be prodded back into their virile former selves). A familiar theme. Epic scenarios. Family adventure. A young man’s coming of age. Middle-aged heroes coming back to life. Merely add some rousing ditties and you’d have an ideal Broadway musical. Or so you’d think.
But as the epic, tuneful and expansively realized — but also muddled, overly portentous and ill-focused — new musical version at Chicago Shakespeare Theater proves, it’s not quite that easy.
If you pick up Alexander Dumas’ 1844 novel, you’ll find a shifting, highly complex narrative involving the unhappily married Queen Anne, the untrustworthy English Duke of Buckingham and a malevolently seductive former nun who goes by the name of Milady and has a penchant for deception and homicide. D’Artagnan’s quest is only part of the story.
To its great credit, Peter Raby’s smart, articulate book is committed to the full Dumas Monty, sans melodramatic concessions. And David H. Bell’s earnest, full-throated production has integrity — this is a long, Broadway-size show with a huge, frequently impressive cast and high-class production values that must have stretched Chicago Shakespeare to its limits. It features two terrific performances, from the established Broadway actor Kevin Massey (as D’Artagnan) and the breakout Chicago actress Abby Mueller (as Constance, his love interest). Full productions of new musicals are rare, risky and exciting occasions, and this theater deserves credit.
But like mainstream movies, most successful musicals have simpler, focused stories with hooks on which an audience can latch. The genre doesn’t allow enough time for too many novelistic twists and turns. And musicals need central characters with clear quests that form the arc of an evening. No such arc is visible here. In some ways, it’s another version of “The Pirate Queen’s” problem, although this show at least comes with a likeable hero and a potentially potent story.
Clearly, Raby (and his partners, composer George Styles and lyricist Paul Leigh) are going for the kind of serious narrative sweep you find in “Les Miserables.” And, indeed, Styles has penned a substantive, melodic score with few sops to pop, pap or populism. But “Les Mis” keeps its eye on the central character and the audience’s heart. And if “The Three Musketeers” is to have the commercial future everyone craves, it will need far more wit, fun and flourish. It will need to better connect with an audience’s emotions around life, death, parenting, honor. It will need more percussion. And, most important, it will need to recenter itself around D’Artagnan, his gal and his three dads. That ain’t cheapening-out, it’s unifying things for the stage.
Right now, the choppy second act is hijacked by confusing courtiers and Milady, who seems to have an endless array of dour numbers and who, despite the worthy efforts of actress Blythe Wilson, lands somewhere between Cruella de Ville and Ann Coulter.
You can see many glimpses of what this show could be — in Massey’s boyish charm, in the rousing number “The Life of a Musketeer” and the lovely romantic ballad “Who Could Have Dreamed of You,” which Mueller knocks out of the park. You even find yourself starting to love Steven Jeffrey Ross’ charming Porthos and Aaron Ramey’s droll Aramis, even though they don’t have nearly enough to do. And although the swordplay is less than it might be, you sense where it could go.
But after intermission, the struggling show becomes consumed by fitting everything in and takes you twisting away from those lovable musketeers toward histrionics, confusion and throbbing, repetitive music stuck in the same tempo. Let all that go, already. The ghost of Dumas will be forgiving. He’d like being on Broadway. And he loved his musketeers.
“The Three Musketeers”
When: Through Feb. 18
Where: Chicago Shakespeare Theater, Navy Pier
Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes
Tickets: $50-$67 at 312-595-5600
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cjones5@tribune.com
