Two grouses, both alike in bitchery In fair Amer’ca where we lay our scene.
One tabloid grudge makes for swell dramedy, While TV gold makes Broadway show lose sheen.
It’s a tasty coincidence that both FX’s “Feud” and Broadway’s “War Paint” are duking it out at the same time. Each tackles a rivalry between two famous women. Both of the pairs’ animosity was exacerbated by their industries’ ruthless sexism. Both are juicy — filled with adultery, larger-than-life characters, back-stabbing and vicious humor. Both scream out to be dramatized. And yet, one is excellent and the other’s mascara is running.
“Feud,” Ryan Murphy’s miniseries, concerns the bitter spat between Old Hollywood legends Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, which bubbled over as the duo filmed their 1962 comeback, “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?”
Murphy proved with “The People v. O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story” that he can take real events and uncover enlightening new themes by using a modern-day lens. And he does so with funky flair. On “Feud,” Jessica Lange’s Crawford is poison personified, corrupted by the movie business like a real-life version of “Sunset Boulevard’s” Norma Desmond. And as Davis, Susan Sarandon borrows brilliantly from her own rebellious persona.
What makes “Feud” such a roaring success is Murphy’s obvious Old Hollywood fandom. His meticulous attention to every small facet gives life to two relatable, flawed eccentrics who are addictive to watch, and not campy, like in the film “Mommie Dearest.”
Not so addicting is the new musical “War Paint,” which creaked open Thursday night on Broadway.
That show (book by Doug Wright, music by Scott Frankel and lyrics by Michael Korie) depicts the fierce rivalry between 20th-century Manhattan makeup moguls Elizabeth Arden and Helena Rubinstein. But it does so with all the vigor and creativity of a museum’s informational video that automatically replays every 15 minutes.
The writers, perhaps in an attempt to avoid stereotypical soap-opera slaps and hair pulling, or possibly because their main characters never actually met, have created what amounts to a 2 ½-hour board meeting. Beauty products are discussed and sold, apartment buildings are acquired, ad campaigns are unveiled, and the characters themselves are kept as detailed and deep as stick figures. Imagine a “Mad Men” where Don Draper’s personal life is barely a subplot — where he sings monochromatic tunes about Camel cigarettes. That’s “War Paint.”
Patti LuPone
Rubinstein and Arden are played respectively, shockingly by Patti LuPone and Christine Ebersole, two of the most celebrated musical-theater actresses in history. These are performers who can elevate their material just by showing up to the theater. Most of the audience — packed to the gills with women and gay men — has come only to see these legends breathe compelling life into two endlessly fascinating figures. But they’re saddled with this drudgery instead. Theatergoers just don’t (skin) care.
Ebersole and LuPone, despite the latter’s silly Slavic accent, give it their all — but the dense, lifeless material refuses to let them soar. Hearing the tepid applause after some numbers sung by the performers is truly jarring.
I previously saw the musical in July at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre. All the same problems were obvious there, too. The writers cut the opening number after certain critics called for its removal, and they re-configured a ridiculous USO-show-style song in the second act. But it’s lipstick on a pig.
What “War Paint” really needed more than anything was a capable show doctor.
Ryan Murphy, perhaps.
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