EBB: In the new production, the audience was seated at tables and chairs in the Kit Kat Club instead of in the theater. But seeing it in London, we had never dreamed,
Oh, my God
,
wait until New York sees this!
When finally I did see the show in New York, I had just gotten out of the hospital and I went with Chita. You were there that night sitting next to us. It may have been the first preview.
KANDER: I went back many times.
EBB: I walked in and those girls were walking around dressed the way they do, and kind of sniffing at the audience. And I wept. I looked at that show and what I saw overwhelmed me, what Sam had done. I had no idea it would be like that. Who would have imagined pineapples coming down from the ceiling in “The Pineapple Song.” There were so many arresting moments like that. Chita grabbed my hand, which made it worse, may I tell you. You know I cry a lot.
KANDER: We cry at different things.
Two years after their success with
Cabaret
, Kander and Ebb had a less than happy experience with David Merrick’s production of
The Happy Time
, with a book from N. Richard Nash. Under the direction of Gower Champion, the musical was turned into a multimedia extravaganza that overshadowed its stars, Robert Goulet and David Wayne.
The Happy Time
opened at the Broadway Theater, January 18, 1968, and ran for 286 performances. Despite the charms of the score and two Tony Awards for Champion
and one for Goulet, the show became one of Broadway’s first million-dollar flops.
KANDER: Collaboration is the most difficult part of our business, where collaboration involves the director, producer, writers—everyone who is in a key position creatively on a show. During our collaboration on
The Happy Time
, the concept of the show changed in a way that disappointed us when we were in Los Angeles. That was the wrong place for us to be trying out that show because people were saying, “You can’t have Robert Goulet play a failure”—meaning, his character in the script. Our director, Gower Champion, lost confidence in what the story was about, and Dick Nash had written a beautiful script. But we changed the show out of town in certain ways that we didn’t like.
EBB: I remember that Gower accepted some hideous advice from his Los Angeles friends.
The Happy Time
was a tough little libretto, and rightly so, reminiscent of The
Rainmaker
in that the story essentially involved exposing fraud, but with much warmth and humor. Bob Goulet played a French Canadian man, Uncle Jacques, who for years has deceived his family into thinking he is something he is not. At the end, he has to confess to his fourteen-year-old nephew, Bibi, who idolizes him, that he wasn’t really a glamorous photographer, that he was just a failure.
KANDER: He was actually a photographer who took pictures of shoes. The experience was sad because of what the show became, especially for Dick Nash, who was the real victim in the way they changed his book and the whole character for Goulet as the uncle.
EBB: With the original story in mind, we wrote the song “Please Stay” to show the relationship between Uncle Jacques and his nephew. Uncle Jacques returns to French Canada to visit
his family, and it is the opinion of the family that he is a bad influence on the boy. But Bibi adores him and one night Uncle Jacques takes him out on the town. They have a really wonderful time, and then they come home. They are in the room they share, and the song is sung by the boy to reveal what he feels about his uncle, who is planning to leave. Bibi protests, not wanting his uncle to return to his glamorous life:
I read a book on London.
It’s beautiful, I know.
Such fun to be in London:
Don’t go.
And Lisbon must be pretty
Around this time of year.
Just marvelous in Lisbon:
Stay here.
And Venice takes your breath away,
They say.
Stay!
It’s dumb for you to stick around
When you could be in Rome.
Please stay home.
Vienna, so you tell me, is just your kind of town.
Romantic old Vienna:
Sit down.
And Paris has the fountains,
The churches and the Louvre,
So everyone loves Paris:
Don’t move.
In Hong Kong oriental splendors wait,
Wait!
Each night in New York City
Is a lot like New Year’s Eve.
But please don’t leave.
I know you’ll never do it
but I’m asking anyway,
Please, please stay!
KANDER: Not only were the book and the character changed, but Gower had devised a production scheme involving rear projections, which sounded very beautiful but turned out to be unbelievably destructive. At that time the only way you could have rear projections appear big on screen was to play in the biggest theater in New York.
EBB: Anyone standing in front of the projector cast a huge shadow.
KANDER: The projections were gorgeous. Unfortunately, they dwarfed the actors and the show was just swallowed.
EBB: Like
The Glass Menagerie
at Radio City Music Hall.
KANDER:
The Happy Time
should have been done in a more intimate space. I think we were all party to what happened because when Gower first described what he wanted to do, it sounded magical and we went along with the idea.
EBB: It was a new projection technique that he had seen at the Montreal World’s Fair.
KANDER: A few years later we had the chance to rewrite some of the score, and Dick Nash had the chance to have his book put back. When that show was revived at the Goodspeed Opera House, it became a piece that I quite liked.
EBB: I thought it was much improved.
KANDER: I don’t know if you agree with this, but when we
previewed the original production in Los Angeles, we played a long time and it was quite successful. But Los Angeles audiences do not really help a show going to Broadway. I don’t think you can learn from a Los Angeles audience what you need to learn for a New York production.
EBB: I agree. David Merrick came to see the show once in Los Angeles. He trusted his creative team and he made a point about that, telling us, “If I trust you, I don’t have to come to see the show.” But when he finally did see the show, he was very unhappy, and we had difficulties. But he made most of the difficulties for Gower, not for us. At one point Gower said, “When we get to Los Angeles, David will see the show and then threaten to close us at the Ahmanson unless we make changes. Don’t worry about him. Just stay out of it, Fred. I’ll take care of David.” After a few weeks in Los Angeles, David Merrick called me and said, “I’m ready to close the show. Gower won’t make the changes I want, and I’m closing this show unless you can influence him.” I said, “Oh, Mr. Merrick, I wouldn’t know how to do that.” Of course, Merrick didn’t close the show, but Gower had predicted it almost to the day.
KANDER: Gower in that situation was quite the opposite of the way he was later when we worked with him on
The Act.
During
The Happy Time
, we had to stay away from rehearsals until he had finished a piece and was ready to present it.
EBB: We were staying way on the other side of Los Angeles, and we were forbidden to come except for one day when he finally said he had a number that we could see. We went down to the space where he was rehearsing, and at the entrance there were huge black curtains.
KANDER: In order to enter this place, instead of going in through a door, we had to go through curtains.
EBB: It was like going into some triple-X porno house. We had to pull aside these layers of thick black curtains, and then
we kept going in and eventually arrived in the rehearsal space. Gower and his assistant had them perform a song for us called “Without Me,” and we thought it was just wonderful.
KANDER: One of the best numbers I’ve ever seen in my life.
EBB: We were thrilled, and then we were dismissed. We went home and didn’t see Gower again during rehearsals. He never let us come again. Jerry Herman had warned me to expect that. Gower never let him into
Hello, Dolly
. Jerry said, “Fred, all I can tell you is it will be worth it.”
KANDER: There was a moment that I will always remember fondly. I was living in the house that you had rented and have since bought in California. It belonged to Rhonda Fleming and had been furnished by her. In the living room there were several ornate lamps with enormous cylindrical shades that hung down very low. Gower came by one day to go over the script, and it was just the three of us. It was daylight when he arrived, near the end of the afternoon. As we were sitting together, reading and talking, it kept getting darker and darker. So we turned on the lights.
EBB: Night had fallen.
KANDER: Without any of us saying anything about it, we slowly ended up on the floor with the scripts under the lampshade, huddled around that little pool of light. At which point Gower looked up and said with his dry, deadpan manner, “Rhonda doesn’t read much, does she?”
EBB: There really was no light in the house. For me
The Happy Time
was one of the saddest experiences of our collaboration because I loved that show—Dick’s book as well as what we had written. I adored Bobby Goulet, and I thought the show would be fine. But the opening night in New York was a disaster. Clive Barnes was then the leading theater critic for the
Times
and a really essential review, and he was late arriving. So the curtain was being held for him.
KANDER: He was a lot late.
EBB: It got to be like a half hour, then forty minutes, then forty-five minutes, and David Merrick went down the aisle to speak to one of the other critics. I heard that critic say, “David, would you have held the curtain for me if I was late?” We could feel the hostility among the critical fraternity, all of whom were gathered to review the piece. Clive eventually showed up almost an hour late. If the poor guy had written a rave, they would have said he was atoning for his unpardonable sin.
KANDER: But he wrote a favorable review.
EBB: It was a clever, pleasant review. I don’t think it sold any tickets. He straddled the fence, but he was in a tough spot.
KANDER: After
Happy Time
opened, I went on a holiday, and on my return the plane was delayed in Antigua. There was a
Time
magazine at the airport newsstand, and I thought,
Oh
,
that critic always hates our work
. But I kept circling the newsstand and finally said to myself, “I’ll just open it and turn to the table of contents, and if there is a theater section, I won’t buy it.” So I opened the magazine to the table of contents and for that week only, as if for my benefit,
Time
was trying a new format putting capsule reviews on the contents page. At the top, there was a sentence that jumped out at me: “Songs so undistinguished they scarcely deserve to be sung out loud.” I had to laugh because I had spent all that time torturing myself about whether to look at the magazine. I’ve never forgotten that.
EBB: I think when it comes to critics that you tend to love them when they like you and hate them when they don’t.
KANDER: Some are better than others, but I can’t recall any critic writing a piece that was such a revelation that it illuminated a show for me. Of course, when you’re out of town and you get reviews that all point to a particular moment in the first act, then you have to figure that moment out. I usually feel better about critics after we finally come into New York. But you and I are dif ferent about this. I really don’t have to read reviews. I’ll want to
know whether they were good or bad, but I don’t feel compelled to read a bad review. Of course, I need to know if the
Times
pans a show of ours, but I won’t search through the trash to make sure that I’ve read it. Sometimes they say hurtful things that you remember for the rest of your life.
EBB: With a critic who has been consistently mean about your work, sometimes all you can do is hope to outlive him. We had fun at the expense of critics with a number that we wrote for
Curtains
, which we’re finally doing as a workshop for the Nederlanders.
KANDER:
Curtains
is really old. We started that piece about fourteen years ago.
EBB: Peter Stone originally had a title,
Who Killed David Merrick?
KANDER: We started writing that piece when David Merrick was still alive. That’s how long we’ve been working on it. Actually, the fact is nobody wanted to do it until now.
EBB: We never really showed it to anybody. It’s always been one of your trunk musicals. Peter wanted to write a murder mystery that took place in a musical on the way to New York. The show inside the show is a musical comedy out of town. When the company opens in Boston, the producer is murdered. It’s a farcical whodunit.
KANDER: Everybody has a reason to kill him.
Curtains
is strange because one of the leading characters is a detective who is in love with show business. In his monologues, he is often quoting lines from famous musicals like
Carousel
.