In Egypt, we are generous with our applause; even a simple onstage rendition of “Baa Baa Black Sheep would not go unrewarded.
And neither did “Broadway Comes to Egypt – rightly identified by some as misleading. With songs from Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein’s “West Side Story and Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey’s “Grease, audiences were given a rare glimpse into the singers’ bathroom vocals, which was nevertheless greeted with loud applause as a few disgruntled bunch stared in bemused horror.
“Broadway came out of collaboration between the US embassy, the Cairo Opera House and an US arts association called American Voices. The production was directed and choreographed by John Ferguson, Michael Parks Masterson, and Ira Spaulding, featuring mostly Egyptian singers, and some international dancers.
Saturday and Sunday’s performances were immediately sold out owing to “Broadway fame, and another night was added to accommodate more audiences. Despite credentials that would qualify them as pros, soloists delivered a largely stiff and disappointing performance bordering on the abysmal.
Everything about the performance, from the so-so costumes to the subpar vocals, was inferior to a high school production. Performers didn’t have an ounce of chemistry with each other, singers lacked collective harmony and the entire production contained no unity whatsoever. What the audience were essentially treated to was a series of one dire sketch after another.
The disjuncture between the different performers aside, the most flawed element of the performance was the invisible thread of artistic direction. If there were any standards aimed for, they were clearly not upheld.
Starting with dancers snapping fingers and tapping toes smoothly, the stage for “West Side Story was soon beset by an awkward group of male singers portraying the Puerto Rican gang the Sharks and the Anglo gang the Jets. Much like the story of lovers doomed never to meet, the clear divide between visuals and vocals foretold the failure to mix the musical and operatic genres.
Despite being blessed with a truly remarkable voice, Hany El-Shafei (in the role of Tony) was clearly out of element in here. Donning a white shirt and jeans, El-Shafie looked like an 18th century count plunged by accident into 1950 New York while his intonations were distractingly off in several parts.
The night’s single most remarkable performance was of the banter-filled “America. Nesma Mahgoub sang her half of the song with natural mastery, lending her voice the desired lilt and bounce to complement the jabs in the lyrics. All skirts and flounces, heels-clicking and pose-striking, the dancers took to the stage as if the repartee inherent in the song were second nature.
Later, amid “Grease numbers, a convincing performance of “Sandra Dee was given by – no surprise, Mahgoub again! – though dressed in dull black, it carried only half the charm of the bouncy skirt and frolicking dance of the earlier “West Side Story number.
Deprived of any backdrop, save for an elevated set of stages – from which a soloist unfortunately fell but bravely continued her skirt-swaying performances – the “West Side setting was exceedingly bland and inspired no sense of the New York City ghettos.
“Grease began with a silhouette of dancers frozen against the background, an impressive start – and if the show had been dance-only, it may yet have been saved.
With Ibrahim Hany’s looking and dressing up for the boxing ring than as a dreamy Danny, and Maysa Orensa as Sandy smiling through “summer dreams, ripped at the seams the ever-popular “Summer Nights was laid to rest, and turned in its grave.
Amir Hedayah’s rendition of “Magic Changes was all heart-holding, and disc-spinning, and completely out of place, belonging more in a studio recording room, with an admittedly pleasant voice.
“It’s Raining on Prom Night, on the other hand, belonged in an opera-friendly bathroom. With one hand on her ear, Laila Ibrahim tuned in to the lyrics: “All I got was a runny nose and Asiatic flu. Apparently the pitch wasn’t suited, and when she tuned into the radio where the companion voice sang, hers went out of balance.
Michael Parks Masterson as Kenicke was more convinced than audiences of his own charm. “Greased Lightning with its words warbled sounded like an engine gone bad, but Masterson persisted.
A birthday wish to a member of the audience convinced one of the karaoke-night atmosphere of the performance. At the end, half the cast dashed into the audience, but without much purpose or interaction.
Broadway sadly stayed where it was, and you wonder what part of it came to Egypt. “West Side Story did not carry aptly the heartbreak of divided lives and loves, depriving the songs of their story. And while “Grease was more successful in conveying the atmosphere of juvenile high-school drama, the achievement was more likely effortless.
So do we give applause? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full.
