It's an entertaining opportunity, this conjunction of Pittsburgh Musical Theatre's "Miss Saigon" at the Byham with the big national tour of "The Phantom of the Opera" at the Benedum.
It allows us to compare the relative qualities of the two most successful purveyors of the contemporary pop opera -- "Saigon's" creative team of Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schonberg and "Phantom's" Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Both have the gift of melody, though Lloyd Webber is far more fertile, of course, and he has the more fluent way with romantic yearning and glitter. But as their even more popular "Les Miserables" also shows, Boublil and Schonberg have a stronger gift for narrative. And in their two big hits, they are more willing to tackle stories of substance -- human, historic and political.
To my mind, that's the big advantage "Saigon" has over "Phantom": It's about something important -- that is, if you consider a confrontation with the effects of American imperialism (whether idealistic or greedy) to be important. It also dramatizes the way individual human stories inevitably come to seem more important than -- and to gum up -- grand governmental strategies.
Then there's the instant comparison of a homegrown group like PMT with the amazing international producing juggernaut of Cameron Mackintosh, which turns out better than you'd probably expect. There's a gap, sure, but it's not as big as the 2-1 ratio of the Benedum's 2,800 seats to the Byham's 1,300 might indicate. (And consider that the 2-1 ratio has its advantage the other way when it comes to the price of the tickets.)
Granted, there's no comparison as to visual effect: The gorgeous design and lavish stage effects of "Phantom" are to the spare staging of "Saigon" as the Carnegie is to a student gallery. But the human scenery is comparable, with 30-some bodies on stage at both theaters. And while "Phantom" has 13 live musicians in its pit, "Saigon" has 12.
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Paul Binotto as the Engineer in "Miss Saigon." Click photo for larger image. |
The story is based on Puccini's "Madame Butterfly," one of the best-known variants of the archetypal tale of a love between a Western male and "exotic" female, with all its obvious parallels to colonialism, imperialism and fascination with the unknown.
In this case, Chris is a once-idealistic American soldier, now soured on the Vietnam War, who, on the eve of the precipitous 1975 American withdrawal from Saigon, falls in love with a virginal South Vietnamese girl, Kim. That he meets her in a sordid dance/strip club under the aegis of a sleazy, opportunistic promoter, The Engineer, and she is purchased for him by his friend, John, only further emphasizes her relative innocence.
Chris plans to take Kim with him, but the final helicopter evacuation catches them by surprise. (The big helicopter effect doesn't blow you away, but PMT pulls it off creditably.) Kim is left pregnant, which leads to a show-down with the Viet Cong leader who claims her as his bride, and she escapes to Thailand with the Engineer, who had been hoping to get something out of these men who wanted her.
Flash forward three years. Chris, suffering from post-Vietnam trauma, is married. John, who leads an organization trying to support the thousands of children American soldiers left behind, learns that Kim is alive in Bangkok with, she says, Chris' child. So everyone gathers in Bangkok to sort out their fates, with the Engineer dancing hopeful attendance.
As the Engineer, Paul Binotto manages to balance the repellent and self-serving with the comic and (grudgingly) sympathetic. He lacks the bite of some Engineers, but he lets us understand the forces that have created such a shifty survivor. How can we condemn him?
As John, Jacob Ming Trent, whose robustly operatic voice I recall first hearing when he was a student at CAPA, unleashes that same powerful instrument on John's "Bui-Doi" anthem. Emily Lynne Miller is properly torn as Ellen, Chris' wife, a tall American who never stands a chance when matched up in the empathy sweepstakes with the diminutive Kim, who has suffered through such hell.
Among all the leads, only Park is a non-Pittsburgher. Bringing back young professionals who started here is one way PMT helps create an entree into the profession for the next generation.
That includes the students PMT always casts from local colleges and its own Rauh Conservatory. For "Saigon" it has also been able to use Carnegie Mellon University students in the key supporting roles of Thuy (Devin Llaw) and GiGi (Christine Lyons, doing an especially moving job with "The Movie in My Mind").
The ethnicity of our local talent pool does result in a greater preponderance of Anglo bar girls than usual in 1975 Saigon. But the ensemble is strong and active. Director Bob Durkin and choreographer Rocker Verastique skillfully compensate for the paucity of scenery by using the ensemble to create the large nightclub and refugee scenes, the massive arrival of the North Vietnamese and the Engineer's satiric "American Dream" fantasy of a life of greed.
Adam Koe Leong's lighting adds atmosphere, creating time of day and even urban surroundings through suggestion alone.
All in all, this is a solid "Miss Saigon," sparely staged but well sung, with the tragic kick required.