Almost Famous
Review by Julia Polinsky
Almost
Famous:
it’s a labor of love, a sincere, almost-likable, wet hot mess.
Based
on Cameron Crowe’s autobiographical 2000 film of the same name, Almost
Famous is full of inconsistencies and weird contrasts. It is not a jukebox
musical but partly dependent on existing music for its score; not a coherent
story, more of a group of scenes that are tied together by a fog of nostalgia
for 1973; not a romance, except sometimes; not a coming-of-age story, except it
is, here and there. Too many notes; too much going on, not enough cohesion.

Casey Likes and the Company of Almost Famous. Photo by Matt Murphy
Still,
you want to like Almost Famous for its enthusiasm, for the time, skill,
talent, care, affection, and gobs of expertise expended on it. But there’s
really not much story: in 1973, smart, clever 15- year-old kid talks his way
into writing rock criticism for Rolling Stone magazine, goes on the road with a
second-tier rock band, breaks his heart, grows up fast. Done and done. No
surprises, especially considering the audience likely saw the movie and know
what’s coming next.

Casey Likes and Solea Pfeiffer in Almost Famous. Photo by Matt Murphy
The
kid journalist, William Miller, (the very, very talented Casey Likes) starts
out starry-eyed, yet is gradually disillusioned over the course of the two acts.
The rest of the characters are caricatures: the rock band members, including
the charismatic lead guitarist Russell Hammond (Chris Wood), lead singer Jeff
Bebe (Drew Gehling), the groupies –excuse me, “Band-Aids”-- led by Penny Lane
(Solea Pfeiffer), the kid’s strict mother (Anika Larsen), his rebellious sister
(Emily Schultheis), and the writer-mentor on the phone, Lester Bangs, (Rob
Coletti) a rock critic who sees value in Miller’s work and encourages him, and
feeds him all his best ideas while repeatedly warning him not to make friends
with the band.

Casey Likes and Rob Coletti in Almost Famous. Photo by Matt Murphy
So,
here’s the story arc: Ride the bus; play music. Ride the bus; play music. Do
drugs; do groupies; ride the bus; play music. How are you going to build
highlights into that? Well, the show tries.
The
highlight of the first act is an out-of-nowhere group singalong of Elton John’s
“Tiny Dancer” on an abstract tour bus – this is the first we’ve seen of the
tour bus? End of act 1? Even though the handsome electric map of the US (best
thing in Derek McLane’s set) with the tour route lit in red has been hanging
upstage for a while?
In
the second act, when the band gets a plane, they speak of the bus with
affection and by name, but they go for money and fame. The highlight of the
second act is the kid losing his virginity, and then discovering that the rock
band members will do anything for money? This is news?

Casey Likes and the Company of Almost Famous. Photo by Matt Murphy
Apparently,
it was news in 1973, to Cameron Crowe. Much has been made of Almost Famous
being based on his own story; if so, seldom has more been made of less. It’s inconceivable
that this particular film could successfully transfer to live theater. Too many
repetitive moments, too little character development, too few surprises.
Too
little happens – in a film, you can have a major character spend his time
observing, but on stage, just no. Too little eye candy; ratty jeans, loose
t-shirts with flannel overshirts, and “hippie” styling just doesn’t fill the
eye in a Broadway house, nor does it lend itself to choreography that suits the
venue. Costume designer David Zinn and choreographer Sarah O’Gleby have the
constraints of time and place – 1973, rock band, groupies, conservative mom –
and do their best, but there’s not much that says “Broadway” about what they
have to work with.
The
music, whether original to the show or retreads of reasonably well-known 1973
rock songs, takes up the bulk of the show’s 2.5 hour run time. Most of the songs
that are original to Almost Famous sound so much alike, they dull the
senses rather than leaving you wanting to sing along. The exceptional moment
when the band on the bus breaks into Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer”, a chorus of
voices rose from the audience itself, singing along. Want to break the fourth
wall? Throw in a huge hit song, and sit back and wait.
Interestingly,
not just at that moment, but often, the audience loved Almost Famous.
Nostalgia works, apparently, even if it’s poorly constructed, limping along,
painfully loud, and not particularly interesting to look at.
Almost Famous
Bernard
B. Jacobs Theatre
242
W. 45th St.
New
York, NY 10036
Tickets $74-318 at Telecharge:
https://www.telecharge.com
Running time 2:30, one intermission
Tuesdays, most Thursdays, at 7pm
Most Wednesdays and Saturdays 2pm
Sundays at 3pm
Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm
https://almostfamousthemusical.com/