It Isn’t Working

I got e-mails from not one but two cast members of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. They took great exception to my review of the show, and both said much the same thing: that I had seen them perform in previous shows, many of which were worse than CCBB. Well, that’s true. But it’s not as if I invoked the “Not-since-Carrie” clause, saying that CCBB was the worst show I’d ever seen. Indeed, I’ve literally caught thousands that were far more terrible. But that still doesn’t make Chitty good in my eyes or ears.

One of the actors wrote about all the months of hard work that went into making this show. Of course, that’s true. No question that any performance of CCBB would show that thousands of man (and woman) hours went into making it. And, in a way, I wish that hard work were the most important component when it comes to reviewing a show. But it isn’t.

How well I remember the first time I ever heard this concept expressed. It was January 26, 1968, the day after I Never Sang for My Father opened. I’d invested some money in the play and was devastated to see Clive Barnes, then the most important critic in town (meaning, of course, that he wrote for The New York Times), state that “A soap opera is a soap opera no matter how you slice the soap.” The next day, I dropped by producer Gilbert Cates’s office and talked to his assistant. “You know,” the young man said sadly, “when you think of how much work went into this show — all the days, hours, months, years. When you consider the design elements and the raising of the money, when you consider how long it took Robert Anderson to think about the play and start writing it, all down the drain because of a critic not liking the show.”

I nodded soberly. But even then, deep in my heart, I knew that his argument didn’t really ring true. Just because man-hours are invested in a theatrical property doesn’t mean that an audience should forgive its trespasses and embrace it. Don’t all shows, with the exception of Jerome Robbins’ Broadway, more or less have the same amount of rehearsal time? Everyone, I expect, works as hard as people did on CCBB. My buddy Bobby Flynn once bought an expensive car that must have taken many hours to make, but it turned out to have so many problems that he was able to return it thanks to a “Lemon Law.” Similarly, people can put in tons upon tons of hours on a Broadway show and still come up with a lemon.

I’m reminded of a line that William Goldman wrote in The Season, in which he mentioned a certain one-performance flop. “The authors of Here’s Where I Belong worked eight years,” he wrote. “That doesn’t entitle them to raves.” I agree. Goldman did go on to say, “I think they deserve some cogent criticism pointing out their failures.” The two Chitty actors (and some of you readers) may feel that my criticism of that show was destructive, but I don’t think it was. If we’re going to talk about hard work, what about all the effort that fathers and/or mothers must put in to earn the hundreds of dollars they must earn to pay for CCBB tickets for the whole family? These folks also have to work hard to get the money to buy all the expensive souvenirs that are hawked before and after the show — not to mention during intermission, when vendors come in the aisles to sell to those audience members who haven’t ventured into the lobby. Many people may feel that their trip to CCBB is worth every penny; I hope they do, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t.

Finally, both CCBB actors chided me for writing, “On my subway ride home, I hide my Playbill from all the other adults on the train, for I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve been to see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.” Remarkably, they both referred to the subway as a place where men urinate freely and suggested that I shouldn’t be ashamed of anything that happens there. The lack of charm in the New York subway isn’t the issue here, but I will admit that I should have added another few lines to better explain my feelings. When people see a grown man with a CCBB program but no child in tow, they don’t automatically assume, “He must be a critic covering the show.” Instead, they think: “With all the shows in New York City from which to choose, this guy selects a kiddie show?” When you’re a guy for whom senior citizenship is right around the corner, that’s more than a little embarrassing!

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[To contact Peter Filichia directly, e-mail him at pfilichia@theatermania.com]