L-R: Will Swenson, Mark Jacoby and Linda Powell in ‘A Gorgeous Noise, The Neil Diamond Musical’ (Image credit: Julieta Cervantes)
By now, fans of Neil Diamond know that the man is from New york city. He references the city in a string of time-held hits like “New York Kid,” “Brooklyn Roads” and “I Am … I Stated.” Because last tune, Diamond croons, “Well I’m New York City born and raised/ But nowadays/ I’m lost in between 2 coasts/ L.A.’s fine, but it ain’t house/ New York’s home/ But it ain’t mine no more.” The refrain paints a photo of a pitiable guy, going through the skies and two unique lives. The song exudes emotional images, but keeps details of exactly what causes Diamond’s low spirits. Regretfully, Broadway’s “A Gorgeous Sound, The Neil Diamond Musical”– composed by Anthony McCarten and directed by Michael Mayer– follows suit.
The musical opens as a play. Present-day, 80-something-year-old Neil Diamond (a sublime Mark Jacoby) sits in therapy with his Medical professional (a silently powerful Linda Powell) and she probes him about his history of chronic isolation. The psychoanalysis set-up draws us in with a guarantee of revelation: What much better way to look into the intimacies of such a popular man than from a therapist’s chair? We quickly discover, nevertheless, that neither Diamond nor McCarten are willing to share much.
Given that this leader of pop does not like to talk about himself, Doctor proposes a nontraditional approach: foraging into Diamond’s canon of “39 albums. 40 Top 40 Hits, 120 millions albums sold.” These data repeat throughout the program as if McCarten was excessively concerned about the importance of his main figure in 2022. However the truth is, even the most unknown of musical artists could warrant a fascinating production– take Stew’s 2008 relic “Passing Strange,” for instance– as long as the protagonist has an individual story we can sink our teeth into. Diamond– a Jewish male from humble beginnings, who cheats on his partner and writes tunes on his guitar– does not. Or at least, we will never understand if he does due to the fact that McCarten declines to get us any closer to the Singular Man.
Act 1 moves in and out of Diamond’s memories, set to a rating of tunes he wrote. As the older songster and his Physician scan the list of musical hits, scenes unfurl starring a younger Neil (Will Swenson) that rewind to when those hits were birthed: “I’m a Follower” when Diamond initially pitches himself to tape-record manufacturer Ellie Greenwich (Bri Sudia), “Love on the Rocks” when he and very first partner Jaye Posner (Jessie Fisher) liquify their marital relationship, “Sweet Caroline” when Diamond glances the name on a magazine in a shitty, Memphis Motel room. Mayer postures young Diamond as a nervous savant of song– the kind of male who ‘d rather let his guitar do the talking. When Swenson does speak, it matches the genuine Diamond’s signature grovel. But in pursuit of that mimicry, Mayer’s instructions abandons suspense, drama or perhaps chemistry between Swenson and other actors. It produces an honest portrayal, but an unfortunately uninteresting efficiency.
Act 2 briefly relinquishes the recollective back-and-forth and parades through more of Diamond’s catalog, concert-style. Clad in Emilio Sosa’s foreseeable, sequin-laced costumes, Swenson with confidence shouts out the hits. A bodily varied shoal of ensemblists– a wonderful rarity on Broadway– strut, snap and swirl behind him in a flurry of sidetracking, high-octane choreography by Steven Hoggett. As Diamond grows in world-wide honor, so does the wedge between him and second better half, Marcia Murphey (Robyn Hurder), who just desires her other half house. The beautiful sound he made of his life warps into “a stunning monster.”
Undoubtedly, there are individuals more versed in Diamond to blog about the story playing out on the Broadhurst Theatre’s stage. I run up against age and culture barriers to his star power; “Sugary food Caroline” coming on at a party is normally my cue to leave it. However when individual connection is absent, powerful storytelling ought to stand in. I still have faith that there is a more interesting story bubbling under the surface area of “A Lovely Noise.” At one point, Diamond exposes that the mobsters who owned the very first record business he unfortunately signed with threatened to eliminate him. They even bombed The Bitter End– a tiny venue early-career Diamond often visited– in an attempt to back that danger with blood. In another scene, we see hints at a youth house filled with pity and anxiety by overworked and overstrung Jewish parents.
Undiscovered holes like these riddle the script, which is desperate for more of Diamond’s withins, however “A Beautiful Noise” is a bio-musical that has actually forgotten the first half of its kind. When done most successfully, the category reveals something brand-new about its topic, rather than merely spitting up life occasions. Rather, this dull pseudo-memoir wagers on fond memories and a captivating frontman to keep the good times feeling excellent. Ultimately, it’s a losing bet.