Theatre in Review: Gigi (Neil Simon Theatre)

	Vanessa Hudgens, Corey Cott. Photo: Margot Schulman

That nice little Parisienne Gigi may have had some growing pains -- who hasn't? -- but, having arrived at the Neil Simon, she really is rather fetching. The word from Washington, where Gigi tried out, was that the show was looking a little wan, and was anyone surprised? When, 42 years ago, Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe brought a stage version of their classic film to Broadway, the world was underwhelmed. The consensus was that the material didn't sit right on the stage, and, in any case, Lerner and Loewe were foolish to compete with the memory of Vincente Minnelli's supremely chic and witty film, with Cecil Beaton's luxurious production design and an indelible cast led by Leslie Caron, Louis Jourdan, Maurice Chevalier, and Hermione Gingold. When word got out that a new book writer had been engaged to make the material more palatable to modern audiences, one reasonably feared the worst.

But if Gigi's creative team hasn't produced a bottle of the finest vintage Dom Pérignon, they have brewed a lively, fizzy champagne cocktail of a show that has plenty to offer fans of the classic book musical form. It doesn't advance the form and its values are a little old-fashioned. But this kind of professionalism is always a pleasure to have around.

You know you're in good hands the minute the curtain rises on a bevy of adulterous couples parading gaily through the Bois de Boulogne, happily singing about the cockeyed morals of a society where extramarital affairs are both the national pastime and a spectator sport. ("Life is serene/Not a wife to be seen/But the few who are with other men!/And Paris is Paris again!") It's a fine introduction to the tale, based on a novella by Colette (who knew whereof she wrote) about a young lady raised by her two slightly déclassé aunts to be a woman of affairs, with the furs and bank account to prove it -- unaware that the girl has plans of her own.

Gigi may be a story of young love but much of the heavy lifting is done by a trio of old pros. As portrayed by that most handsome and debonair of leading men, Howard McGillin, the graying rascal Honoré makes a fine compère for the evening's festivities, setting the scene in the number mentioned above; giving truly terrible advice to his nephew, Gaston, about how to revenge himself on a faithless lover; and fencing verbally with Gigi's Aunt Inez, the girl he let get away so many years before. He makes the most of "I Remember It Well," that duet of mismatched memories, as well as that insouciant salute to getting on, "I'm Glad I'm Not Young Anymore." At moments like these, McGillin gives an extra bit of sparkle to the show's sophisticated veneer.

With her ramrod posture, towering coiffures, and a stare that kills at twenty paces, Dee Hoty is a malicious delight as Aunt Alicia, who made a fortune by moving from one bed to another, and is training Gigi to do the same. Whether dispensing aphorisms ("Men are temporary; jewels are for life"), reminding Gigi to keep her eyes on the prize ("There's nothing more romantic than a stroll to the bank"), or taking on a team of lawyers in a no-holds-barred negotiation over her niece's future, the lady's acid wit has a bracing effect on the entire enterprise.

Best of all is Victoria Clark as Inez, who can be crisply witty ("The decades haven't dimmed your charm," she tells the preening Honoré. "I wouldn't take that as a compliment.") but who brings an autumnal warmth to her duets with McGillin and a deep concern for Gigi's future that adds some much-needed emotional heft. When Gigi, now gorgeously gowned and transformed into a fledgling courtesan, leaves for her first assignation, Clark offers a heartbreaking rendition of "Say a Prayer" -- a song assigned to Gigi in the film but here made into a revelation of Inez's fears for her niece's future.

And Gigi? That would be Vanessa Hudgens, brash of voice, bursting with energy, and as full of awkward gestures as a baby giraffe. Instructed by Alicia to "insinuate yourself into the chair like a spring uncoiling," she gives a pretty good imitation of someone passing out from nervous exhaustion. She joins in the numbers with unbridled glee, and when the time comes for her to write a letter to Gaston, the boy she loves, pouring out her anxiety and distaste for the role she has been handed, she is genuinely touching.

The weak link here is Gaston, "the sugar prince," who has tired of an endless round of meaningless affairs, preferring to spend his time with Gigi. It's not really the fault of Corey Cott, who, with his good looks and powerful voice, is thoroughly believable as McGillin's nephew. By making Gaston only a few years older than Gigi, the creative team has blurred the very real power imbalance that the story seeks to address. Cott is helped by his first two numbers, the witty, but hardly dynamic, "It's a Bore" and "She Is Not Thinking of Me," an internal monologue that worked better on film than on stage. The revised libretto makes Gaston into a technogeek who dreams of funding aviation ventures, a choice that has the effect of making him seem even drearier. His lot improves as the show goes along, and by the time he gets to deliver the title tune, he has become thoroughly easy to like.

Otherwise, Heidi Thomas' book burnishes Lerner's original script without any obvious political corrections[correctness?]. Interestingly, she turns the number "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" into a debate between Alicia and Inez. And if the film's songs are measurably better than most of the later additions, they add up to a score that is never less than beguiling.

Eric Schaeffer's direction whisks us from the Bois de Boulogne to the beach in Trouville to a parlor filled with artwork, all of them stunningly designed by Derek McLane, whose Art Nouveau vision of Paris is dominated by an enormous sweeping staircase; other eye-catching touches include a forest rendered in various shades of green Tiffany glass, and sumptuous red restaurant banquettes. Joshua Bergasse's choreography deploys a legion of world-weary sophisticates at Maxim's, craning their necks for the next delicious bit of gossip, and unleashes a band of rowdy cancan dancers for "The Night They Invented Champagne." Catherine Zuber's costumes positively drip with chic, especially a gorgeous red fur-trimmed ensemble for Aunt Alicia and Gigi's attention-getting first evening gown. Natasha Katz's lighting bathes the action in saturated colors, transforming the chorus ladies' white gowns with one hue after another in one number. Kai Harada's sound design provides enough clarity for us to get Lerner's intricate lyrics.

Gigi's pleaures are so traditional that I fear that some may overlook them, especially in a season that offers more innovative entertainments like Hamilton and Fun Home But there's still plenty of enjoyment to be found in a classic book musical with likable characters, smart lyrics, transporting melodies, and, best of all, a point of view that ties everything together. It has taken Gigi more than four decades to come into her own on Broadway, and to these eyes she is all grown up at last. -- David Barbour