'The Music Man' Revival's Misapplication of Modernization

Hugh Jackman as Harold Hill in the Broadway revival of “The Music Man” at the Winter Garden Theater. (Photo: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times)

by Clara Tan, Guest Editorial

Enough ink has been spilled about the most recent revival of The Music Man at the Winter Garden Theatre(which closed back in Jan), from characterizations of miscasting to the topical addition of tap. However, this is not a review so much as attempt to academically examine why the changes introduced in the recent revival were not as effective as intended.

With Meredith Willson being composer, lyricist, and playwright, one can safely assume that every single element included in the published version of The Music Man was there for a reason, an American illustration of the Gesamtkunstwerk as discussed by Wagner. The revival sought to change certain elements of the show in the name of modernization, with what we may call varying degrees of success. Willson certainly was very deliberate in his use of language, in his ode to small-town Americana. There is affection here, but there is a willingness to be critical as well.

To start off, let us examine the changes to the lyrics of “Shipoopi”. The original version of the song valorizes the man who effectively harasses a girl into being his “shipoopi”, after some good old-fashioned slut shaming. The updated lyrics written by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman turn it into a bloodless ode about a nice, respectable courtship.

Now, it has often been asked, “Why is that number there? It seems superfluous.” While being the big Act II opener, giving a reason for a big dance number and getting the audience back in the mood for the rest of the show, the number as originally written represents a discussion of what Harold Hill has been doing to Marian for the entirety of Act I.

From the moment Marcellus points her out after “(Ya Got) Trouble”, Hill has done nothing but, to quote Marian, “follow [her] all over town”. Act I has a series of Hill’s constant attempts to win Marian over, and “Shipoopi” as written represents an affirmation of his actions, as well as foreshadowing that he will “win her yet”. Marcellus being the featured soloist in this number demonstrates both his approval and support of Harold’s actions, as well as the town’s agreement on the matter.

With the rewritten lyrics, the song does turn into what it is commonly seen as, an excuse to have a big group dance number. One might argue that it could be framed as Marcellus describing what he views as the ideal courtship, highlighting that to Hill. That is contradicted by the very first scene when Harold encounters Marcellus. Marcellus makes some vague protestation about there being “too many close shaves the way [Harold] work[s]”.

Yet, in less than two minutes, he is immediately brought into Harold’s scheme, is an active participant in the con, and agrees to point out the music teacher to Harold. Whatever scruples he might’ve had were discarded the moment he saw Harold. The song as rewritten reflects a massive departure from the character in the rest of the text.

This example serves to illustrate a certain type of revival that demonstrates a lack of textual and critical analysis as applied to directing. Modernization of a show is all well and good, and can sometimes produce absolute gold (see Daniel Fish’s 2018 Oklahoma!), but one must have a clear vision and something to say. By introducing all these changes to the text of The Music Man, this particular revival undermines the entire story that was being told, without being willing to commit to any incisive examination of the material.

Certain lines, such as those referencing Tommy Djilas’ father being a day laborer south of town, or Harold calling ragtime “shameless” music with the power to induce a “jungle, animal instinct” being excised remove whatever slight commentary on racial and class relations was in the text. Willson, for all his affection for small-town folk, was also very willing to critique their tendencies towards racial animus allowing them to be led by somebody who knows the right dogwhistles. Of course, the real Iowa of 1912 would’ve been far more explicit in its attitudes about “those” people. Yet, in what one can only assume is a misguided attempt at sanitization, these mild references were completely erased.

It might be argued that these changes do not affect the overall tone of the story, but they ultimately remove any edge the show has, and upset the thematic throughline of the show. Harold Hill, as written in the original text, uses racialized language as well as vague Christian allusions to whip up a moral panic about a pool table so he can sell his wholesome alternative, a Boys’ Band. The town is very much culpable for their part in the con, because of the views that they already hold being used to bilk them of their money. The ending of the show is a summary of that, with the River Citizens being too uneducated, or unwilling to recognize that the “music” the band plays is unlistenable. The fact that Hill is valorized at the closing is an indictment of both him and River City. One might almost be able to read the theme as, “If he can con you, you deserve to be conned”.

The introduction of these changes to the text ultimately demonstrates the line of thought that the show must be safe, easy to digest, and palatable to a mass audience. The financial success of the revival demonstrates that it succeeded in that regard. It might almost be an echo of the show’s ending.

The Golden Age musical as an art form has its ups and downs, from Oklahoma! to Camelot. Half-hearted attempts to make something safe, simply dilute the meaning and intention of the texts. These pieces were products of their time, and there should be a certain amount of critical evaluation of them. Sanding off the rough edges in effect removes the means of critiquing the texts as written in their original contexts and as a modern theatregoer. Audiences definitely deserve better. At least, it might help cultivate horse sense, a cool head, and a keen eye.