| Fifteen years ago, this might have been too blasphemous for Broadway. Now, given the triumph of the obscene that our present socio-political moment may arguably be said to represent, it's practically charming and, I'm guessing, will fit right in on the Great White Way. The cast performs this work spectacularly. I saw the original London production and I have no memory of it being so stunningly sung. JERRY SPRINGER THE OPERA is a secular attempt to sort of reconcile the sacred and the profane both of which it finds, cleverly enough, in the stories of those who participate in and watch shows like Jerry Springer's. Even as opera has always exalted and aestheticized melodrama, it's surprising--though not on reflection--to find the denizens of "Springerland" such suitable libretto material. In the world of JERRY SPRINGER, everyone--Satan, Mary, Jesus, Adam, Eve, and anyone else with a grudge or a secret--is pissed off. The thirst for recognition--and reparation--is unending in part because one must first be able to see an other in order to be seen by them; this, of course, is a problem in these distinctly narcissistic and pagan days. By its end, JERRY SPRINGER THE OPERA is blandly, flippantly hopeful. But everything that comes before is a crackerjack paean to grievance collectors the world over, each and every one a potential assassin. "Where's my prize?" indeed. |
