Happy endings, like 'em or not

Here's a chunk of prose about the eternal optimism of the American Musical Theater, pegged to some tidbits on songwriter Jerry Herman. Once more, the original was published in The Desert Advocate.

Jerry Herman’s shows are the epitome of the Broadway keep-your-chin-up attitude. “Hello, Dolly!,” “Mame” and “La Cage aux Folles” are his three best-known shows, but there's also “Mack and Mabel,” known among Herman connoisseurs and the Broadway-savvy as his best score, plus such near-hits as “Dear World” and “The Grand Tour.” Herman grew up around shows with songs by people like Irving Berlin and Cole Porter, and his style reflects that unabashedly. Think of his title tune to “Hello, Dolly!” from 1964 and it’s not too far a musical jump to think of Berlin’s “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” from 1912.

It isn’t only sunshiny songs of that mold that give the musical theater a reputation for never-say-die. Whatever their styles and however tragic their endings, musicals insist on positive messages. The ending of “West Side Story,” with Tony dead on the ground, blooms with the hope of “Somewhere.” The finale of “The Man of La Mancha,” with Cervantes being marched off to prison, assures us it its still possible to dream that impossible dream. “A Chorus Line” seems to end in everyday, real-life cruelty, as half the aspirants to gypsy glory are turned down for the job. Yet, there they all are in the final number, swirling about the stage in top hats and gleaming smiles.

Even newer shows with apparently anti-optimistic agendas can’t escape. The story of “Sweeney Todd” may be grisly, but in the end, evil is punished and young love triumphs. “Avenue Q” is adult and edgy, but it’s also all about being young and struggling and knowing it’ll all come out okay – optimism re-imagined. The grinning cynicism of “Urinetown” is only made possible by the undercurrent of optimism assumed beneath its surface.

As it is in the art form, so it happens to be in Jerry Herman’s life. After hitting huge with “Hello, Dolly!” and “Mame” in the 1960s, the last decade when it was possible to write in his style without special permission from the culture, Herman entered a slump period of nearly 20 years. Overt optimism was out and so were the kinds of songs he was good at writing. Yet he persisted, show after show, until he found a combination that sparked a hit: the warmly sentimental, yet archly humorous story of the French movie, “La Cage aux Folles,” and his old-fashioned, yet crisply made songs.

That was 1983, and the last time Herman had a hit show. Shortly after that, he was diagnosed HIV positive. With resolve that even a Broadway show would find hard to muster, Herman called his diagnosis “a miracle,” because through it he could show people “there can be a second chance, that it (AIDS) can be a manageable disease,” as he said in an interview in 1996.

And here he is, ten years later, managing that disease and still writing shows. (The reason for his absence the night of the show was not AIDS, but shingles.) The latest Herman musical, in progress, is called “Miss Spectacular,” and is being designed as a casino show for Las Vegas.

Like Herman, the musical theater survives and occasionally thrives, despite misfortunes and changing styles. It is a form that will not die, and even as it seeks to reinvent itself, it persists in declaiming the eternal virtue of optimism. To judge from the musical’s longevity, that’s not just wide-eyed silliness. That’s truth-based, survival-oriented realism.

- Kenneth LaFave