In “Razzle Dazzle” — Michael Riedel’s brilliant new page-turner about how Broadway went from the Fabulous Invalid to a billion-dollar powerhouse — there is a compelling chapter on the tumultuous protests in 1979 to save three theaters slated to be torn down to build the Marriott Marquis. The Portman hotel was to be an anchor in the redevelopment of Times Square from a tawdry carnival of sleaze to a family tourist destination that could — and did — stimulate Broadway revenues.The legendary producer Joseph Papp sided with the protestors and, writes Riedel, he brought with him a showman’s flair for publicity. Mayor Ed Koch was supporting the hotel, so chances were slim that he would issue a permit for a flatbed truck to be parked in front of the theaters to serve as a platform for speeches. Papp went to Koch and promised that the mayor would not be denounced if he issued the permit. Mission accomplished. Taking the bullhorn at the rally, Papp shouted, “Shame on Ed Koch!”Betrayal, single-minded passion, desperation, bullheaded creativity, and political dick fights constitute much of the drama in Riedel’s book, whose central narrative follows the Shubert Organization, Broadway’s biggest landlord, in simultaneously trying to revive its flagging fortunes, that of New York City’s, and those of the artistic theatrical community itself. On the way, one is introduced to myriad characters, including such flamboyant personalities as directors Michael Bennett, Tommy Tune, and Bob Fosse; the mercurial producer David Merrick (“a coiled cobra”); and, in particular, Bernard Jacobs and Gerald Schoenfeld, two lawyers who took the reins of the Shubert Organization in 1972 and bullied, cajoled, seduced, and led, as Riedel’s subtitle has it, “the Battle for Broadway.”There were casualties, but fate, in the form of AIDS, delivered the most devastating ones. The tragedy of that epidemic resulted in the loss of several irreplaceable artists, including Bennett, and serves to trivialize the bruised egos and petty fights which nonetheless provides much of the bitchy juiciness in “Razzle Dazzle.” Riedel, after all, is one Broadway’s more controversial figures as the often nasty theater columnist for the New York Post as well as the host, with Susan Haskins, of the television program, “Theater Talk.” (Full disclosure: the author of “Razzle Dazzle” and this writer are friends.)Riedel recently spoke with ARTINFO about his book, which is likely to take its place on the shelf with other classics about Broadway, including William Goldman’s “The Season” and Moss Hart’s “Act One.”What’s so sexy about two lawyers, Jacobs and Schoenfeld, that you could make them the spine of “Razzle Dazzle”? I’ve always maintained that while they were lawyers by training, they became theater people at heart: colorful, dramatic characters in their own right who made bold moves, took big risks to save Broadway, clawed their way to the top of the American theater, and made some enemies along the way. They could be petty and tyrannical but they inherently believed that Broadway was worth fighting for.What was so risky? They couldn’t exactly walk away from the Shubert real estate. As Mayor Ed Koch says in your book, “Where you gonna go? To New Jersey?” True. But the first risk they took was not selling off some of the theaters to make money fast when the Shubert Organization was nearly bankrupt. At one point, they needed a one-million dollar line of credit to pay bills. You have to remember that in 1972 Times Square was a seedy, menacing place of drug addicts, porn, and prostitutes, and that half the Shubert houses were dark and nothing is worse than an empty theater. You still have to pay taxes and maintenance. And the other risks? They took what money they had and began investing in shows. Before Bernie and Gerry, the Shuberts hadn’t invested in shows since 1961. They were just landlords. But they knew they had to create shows because there weren’t any shows to fill their houses.And that’s where “A Chorus Line” comes in. Michael Bennett had been developing “A Chorus Line” at the Public Theater for a year and Joseph Papp [the Public’s founder and producer] told him that he was out of money for the show. Michael and Marvin Hamlisch went to the Shubert offices and on a decrepit and dusty piano that probably hadn’t been used since the days of Sigmund Romberg, Hamlisch played the score for Bernie and Gerry. “A Chorus Line” later became the longest-running musical but nobody knew what it could be. A musical about dancers and their problems? But Bernie lent Joe Papp the money just on the promise of something.Why do you suppose the city, and state for that matter, had allowed Broadway to become so run-down? There were other more pressing problems that needed money and attention. In 1972, the city had $34 million in the bank and $477 million in obligations. But Broadway was also a business that had no leadership and the Shuberts stepped in to fill that void. They said, “We need to clean up the smut on the street, not just the prostitutes and drugs addicts but the garbage! The place is disgusting!” And nobody else was pushing for these things.In the Marriott vs. the Broadway community fight, which side would you have been on? Probably to save the theaters for sentimental reasons. And I would have been wrong. I wouldn’t have grasped the whole nature of redevelopment.Did you find that there was any one singular trait that binds theater artists as a tribe? They are single-minded in their devotion to the theater and putting a show on, and that is both wonderful and horrible. Wonderful in that they put on great shows because they were great talents but they could be monstrous to the people around them if they were not getting what they wanted. Nothing stopped them and if they weren’t getting the performance they wanted they could rip you apart. Is that healthy? Well, after writing this book, I certainly believe that theater is not a democracy. Somebody has to be in charge: “This is what we’re going to do, it’s going to go this way, and this is how it’s going to look at the end. And if you disagree, get out of my studio.” It’s a double-edged sword but it’s got to be there. It’s what William Goldman called “the muscle.” On an Andrew Lloyd Webber show, Andrew Lloyd Webber is the muscle.Yet, one gets to the impression that these artists could at times be arbitrary and mercurial even in the work. And vindictive and bitchy, too. I think of Michael Bennett as being paranoid and having lots of psychological problems, as did Bob Fosse, but not in the service of the shows. They became petty when they competed with each other, as when “Nine” came out of nowhere to steal the Tony for Best Musical from “Dreamgirls.” But pettiness can be found in any business. What makes a good producer? Aside from the technical stuff, a good producer has to have taste and a keen eye for creative talent. A good producer bets on the jockey not the horse. He bets on the Michael Bennetts, the Gower Champions, the Tommy Tunes — the creative talent that can ride a show to the finish line. What comes through in my book is that the shows that “saved” Broadway were never slam-dunks to begin with. In fact, they were often the opposite: A show about a young boy who blinds six horses? One about dancers and their stories at an audition? A musical version of Fellini’s “8 ½”? Not a single one of the shows on paper looked like it could be anything.
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