Most people are probably familiar with Stephen King’s novel Carrie, or at least the movie based on the same story. But did you know that in the 1980s it was turned into a Broadway musical? Yeah, exactly. There’s a reason why you haven’t heard of it.
Carrie was written by Michael Gore and Dean Pitchford, with a book by Lawrence D. Cohen. You might know Michael Gore and Dean Pitchford for writing the title song to the movie Fame, and if you do, you have an idea of how some of the music of Carrie sounds. After numerous rewrites, Carrie began a trial run with the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford-upon-Avon in England, starring Linzi Hateley and Barbara Cook. Ms. Cook, however, was almost decapitated by the intricate scenery, and dropped out of the show, to be replaced by Betty Buckley.
Carrie: The Musical opens with a group of “teenage” girls doing Debbie Allen’s best 80’s jazzercise routine in outfits no teenager has ever worn, singing about how hard it is to be a teenage girl. Afterwards, half the stage is lifted and the girls, in bras and panties, take a “shower” among smoke while Carrie runs around in a huge towel, until she gets her first period, and you know what happens there. The “high school” looks more like the set of “Cube” then it does anything else, and it doesn’t get better. The White household is a wooden wall and floor that looks like someone stole half of Pa Ingalls’ shack from one of the later Little House books. The “highlight” of this all is the pig farm that Chris takes Billy to in the opening of the second act. The stage is bare, except for a large trench filled with “fire,’ which Billy and the other boys dance and cartwheel around. Meanwhile, Chris climbs up from under the stage and spins around in an outfit that Julie Brown would find too tacky.
We end the show with the prom, where Billy runs onto the stage and dumps… something on Carrie’s head, and then she’s lifted up, lasers shooting over the audience, while the prom goers all writhe around. Meanwhile, Sue is downstage, watching, praying or something. We’re not sure if she’s there watching or if she’s at home. Finally, a giant white staircase descends from the sky, surrounding Carrie, and Mrs. White walks down, singing a reprise of Carrie’s earlier angst filled solo, before stabbing her daughter. At which point, Carrie psychically kills her mother and crawls down the staircase to collapse in Sue’s arms.
Carrie is a rather odd musical in that some of the music is generally well written and beautifully performed. All of the songs between Mrs. White and Carrie are incredible numbers, with beautiful music and some incredible pathos from the performers. Yet, they’re sandwiched between inane pop numbers that seem like they’re from a different show. Either that or they’re just straight up bizarre, though that’s usually given to Chris and her “Do Me a Favor” and “Out for Blood.” One theater urban legend is that Terry Hands and company were discussing the show, pre production, and someone said “This musical should be more like ‘Grease’” thinking either a parody, or having a very real and recognizable high school setting, but was mistaken as “This musical should be more like Greece” and the director took that meaning “This musical should reference Ancient Greek theater.” While this might not have happened, there certainly are a lot of togas in this show.
Carrie: The Musical opened at the Virginia Theater (now the August Wilson Theater . . . where Jersey Boys is) on May 12, 1988, after having 15 previews and closed on May 15, after its financial backers freaked over the horrible reviews and backed out, despite every performance having sold out. It is now considered one of the most expensive Broadway flops, and if Ken Mendelbaum is to believed, the standard that all other Broadway flops are judged by.
http://youtu.be/yXqg-CvQytU
