From the Archives - 'Annie Get Your Gun': Not Just a Shot in the Dark

This article appeared in The Metro Herald (Alexandria, Virginia) on January 22, 1999:

Annie Get Your Gun: Not Just a Shot in the Dark

Rick Sincere

Metro Herald Entertainment Editor

By all rights, this year should be a great one for revivals of Broadway musicals, at least if major anniversary productions are mounted. December 30 marked the fiftieth anniversary of the Broadway premiere of Kiss Me, Kate; April 7 will see fifty years since the debut of South Pacific; December 8 will be the fiftieth anniversary of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Hello, Dolly!, after a tryout at Washington's National Theatre, had its Broadway premiere on the night of January 16, 1964, making it 35 years old this month. A Broadway revival of The Sound of Music, which will be 40 years old on November 16, is already into a long run. Others celebrating forty years in 1999 include Gypsy, Once Upon a Mattress (also recently revived), and the Pulitzer-winning Fiorello. And another 35-year-old (September 22) is the great Fiddler on the Roof.

What all these great musicals have in common -- with the possible exception of the seldom-produced Fiorello -- is that members of the audience walk into the theatre already humming the tunes. (This is not to be confused with a similar phenomenon that occurs when people see a new Andrew Lloyd Webber musical for the first time.) So it is with the revival of Annie Get Your Gun now on stage at the Kennedy Center Opera House. This 1946 musical, written by the irrepressible Irving Berlin for the incomparable Ethel Merman, is jam-packed with standard melodies that should be familiar to anyone who has owned a radio during the past half-century.

Although the songs are arranged in a different order from the original production -- it now begins with that anthem to performers, "There's No Business Like Show Business" -- each one lands pleasantly and familiarly on the ears: "Anything You Can Do," "Doin' What Comes Natur'lly," "The Girl that I Marry," "Lost in His Arms," "They Say It's Wonderful," "You Can't Get a Man with a Gun," and "An Old Fashioned Wedding," introduced by Merman in the 1966 Lincoln Center revival, a contrapuntal duet no doubt intended to match the success of the similar "You're Just in Love," from the 1950 Berlin-Merman collaboration Call Me Madam.

The team behind this revival of Annie Get Your Gun certainly matches that of the original production, which included Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II (as producers), Dorothy and Herbert Fields (book writers), Jo Mielziner (scenic and lighting design), and Joshua Logan (director). That production was only the second book musical in Broadway history to exceed 1,000 performances (preceded by Oklahoma!).

This revival is directed by Graciela Daniele, fresh from her award-winning choreography for Ragtime; the book has been revised by Peter Stone, who has won four Tony awards; the scenic design is by Tony Walton, with three Tonys, an Emmy, and an Oscar on his shelves; and backed by Tony-winning producers Barry and Fran Weissler.

Bernadette Peters is clearly the star of the show as sharpshooter Annie Oakley. Her name appears above the title, and she can belt a Berlin ballad nearly as well as La Merman herself. The two Broadway divas are similar in many ways: Despite forays into film and television, Peters is known primarily as a stage actress, making her name in Sondheim shows (Sunday in the Park with George, Into the Woods). Merman seldom ventured into the movies -- she repeated her starring Broadway roles only in the 1936 Anything Goes and the 1953 Call Me Madam. Her greatest triumphs -- Annie Oakley and Mama Rose in Gypsy -- were played by Betty Hutton and Rosalind Russell in the film versions. Go figure.

Unlike Merman, Peters rose through the Broadway ranks in an era in which Hollywood does not automatically produce movies based on hit musicals. In fact, not a single one of Peters' Broadway hits has been translated into film, and only one of her films -- Annie (1982) -- is based on a Broadway musical. So, to non-theatregoers, Peters is known primarily by straight dramatic performances, and they might be surprised to learn that she has such a terrific singing voice.

In general, Peters delivers what her talent and the material in Annie Get Your Gun promise. Her interpretations of the songs are spot-on, although there is a disappointment in "Lost in His Arms." In this instance, Peters seems to build up to a huge climax, but settles down on the approach to the top. Is this her fault, or was it the decision of arranger John McDaniel? Whatever the case, the whole song feels unresolved and unfulfilling.

One serious problem with Peters performance is her cloying, backwoods accent. It is cute at the beginning, but quickly begins to grate. And why don't the three children playing Annie's younger siblings have a similar accent? Peters needs to tone this down. We're not asking for Manhattan here, but we don't need the Beverly Hillbillies, either.

TV star Tom Wopat gives a strong performance as Annie's love interest and rival, Frank Butler. Wopat's Butler is confident without being (too) arrogant.

Daniele's choreography, created in collaboration with Jeff Calhoun, has echoes of her work in Ragtime. Daniele's dancers move geometrically, complexly, exuberantly. It would be interesting to view her work from above, like the June Taylor Dancers on the old Jackie Gleason show.

Some commentators have criticized the revised book for Annie Get Your Gun for being too "politically correct." These critics are looking just at the surface. While it was probably advisable to rid the script of insensitive treatments of Native Americans (one song, "I'm an Indian, Too," has been dropped from the score), the fact is that Peter Stone's new book subversively makes fun of the P.C. crowd. The most "P.C." jokes are, in fact, self-referentially mocking.

All in all, Annie Get Your Gun is great fun and suitable for the whole family. I hope that many Washington area children get their first taste of musical theatre through this show. It wouldn't be the first time: The celebrated playwright Terrence McNally (currently represented at The American Century Theatre with a revival of his first play -- see last week's Metro Herald for a review) decided as a child that for him, there was "no business like show business" when he saw a road company of -- what else? -- Annie Get Your Gun!

Annie Get Your Gun continues at the Kennedy Center through January 24. Performances are Tuesday through Saturday evenings at 8:00, Saturday matinees at 2:00, and Sundays at 1:30 and 7:00 p.m. Ticket prices range from $20 to $75 and may be purchased at the Kennedy Center box office or by calling Instant-Charge at 202-467-4600.

There's No Centenary Like ...

It would be neglectful to let the day go by without remembering the 100th birthday of that great lady of the American musical theatre, Ethel Merman, the woman who made "There's No Business Like Show Business" the anthem of the theatrical profession. (She also made it into a disco record in the late 1970s, but that may be a fact better forgotten.)

Both the Internet Movie Database (IMDB) and the Internet Broadway Database (IBDB) list Merman's birthdate as January 16, 1908, one hundred years ago today. There is some dispute, however, as to the accuracy of this date, with some suggesting that Merman was born two years earlier.

In his fawning biography of the actress, singer, and diva, entitled (with a great deal of legitimacy) Ethel Merman: The Biggest Star on Broadway, author Geoffrey Mark writes:

...Ethel Agnes Zimmermann was born on January 16, 1906. When she made the big time in show business, years were shaved off to make it appear she was a mere wisp of a girl. The future Miss Merman would conveniently lie about her age the rest of her life, clinging to those lost years to give an illusion of youth.

Her parents seemed to be the loving, indulgent, nurturing people that were later idealized on television shows like "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet." Ethel was an only child, and Edward and Agnes Zimmermann adored their daughter. A bit chubby as a youngster, Ethel possessed a quick wit, dark flash¬ing eyes, beautiful skin, and the ability to learn a tune before she could talk. She was, indeed, their pride and joy.

The Zimmermann family never had to worry about finances, illness, or social deprivation. Edward earned a very comfortable living as an accountant, leaving Agnes to stay at home and indulge little Ethel. There were grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins abounding; the Zimmermanns were surrounded by love. The two families had emigrated from Germany (Edward) and Scotland (Agnes) two generations earlier. There were no funny accents or tenements in Ethel's life, nothing of which to be ashamed. Her family had a big house at 359 Fourth Avenue (neither it nor the street still exists), electricity, a telephone, steam heat, and indoor plumbing. For most Americans, these were still luxuries in the days before World War I.

Like many of their social stature, the Zimmermann family had a piano in the parlor, which Edward played with abandon. When it was learned that she could carry a tune, tiny Ethel was placed at her father's feet where she was encouraged to sing along. The louder she sang, the more Edward encouraged her. The more encouragement she got, the louder she sang. Ethel seemed to get an adrenaline rush from her parents' approval. This would last as long as they lived, and they lived until Ethel was almost seventy.

This approval seemed to give Ethel a confidence uncom¬mon in a child. No matter what she attempted, little Ethel was always certain she would be a conqueror. Failure was not in her vocabulary. Edward and Agnes should have written a book on how to build a child's self-esteem. Much of Ethel's child¬hood was enveloped in laughter and emotional intimacy. The incredibly healthy ego that grew inside of Ethel would be a boon to her career. However, it would later prove a disaster in her personal life.

Ego or no ego, Merman had an unmatchable career on the Broadway stage. She starred in more hit musicals than anyone else, even Mary Martin. (Martin won the Tony for The Sound of Music in 1960, the same year Merman was nominated for what was, by most accounts, her best career performance as Mama Rose in Gypsy. Merman's reported reaction? "You can't buck a nun.")

Merman worked with George Gershwin and Cole Porter, with Irving Berlin and Stephen Sondheim. Her career spanned at least two, if not three, major phases in the development of musical theatre. The list of her roles on IBDB includes 15 original musicals, plus a revival of Annie Get Your Gun and two one-night-only tribute shows on Broadway. Her first Broadway musical was Girl Crazy and her last was Hello, Dolly!, a show that was written for her but one in which she starred (as Dolly Gallagher Levi) only in the last several months of a seven-year first run.

Like that other Dolly, Carol Channing, Merman had a personality too big for the screen. Most of the roles she originated on Broadway were played by others on film -- most notoriously Rosalind Russell in Gypsy and Betty Hutton in Annie Get Your Gun (a role that was almost played by Judy Garland). Others who took Merman roles to the movies were Lucille Ball, Ann Sothern, and Vivian Blaine.

Merman did appear in the first film version of Anything Goes and repeated her role as "The Hostess with the Mostes'" in Call Me Madam. She also had a memorable turn as a shrewish mother-in-law in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. Her last film role was as (sort of) herself in the 1980 classic spoof, Airplane!.

Whether Ethel Merman would have been 100 years old today, or 102, hers is a life worth celebrating and remembering.