John Bolton © Carol Rosegg
But as with most successful ideas in show business, when the film started gaining in popularity, a flood of television shows and films started including narration. When The Wonder Years was being developed in 1988, Jean Shepherd was the first person considered for the voice of the adult Kevin Arnold, who functioned as a narrator in the same way as adult Ralphie did in A Christmas Story.
“The Wonder Years is a bitter story,” A Christmas Story director Bob Clark recalled. “They first auditioned Shepherd to do that. I introduced him to Spielberg. Steven was a big fan of A Christmas Story and he wanted to meet Shepherd. So he had lunch with him and his wife and he called me and said, ‘Bob, how’d you get along with this guy?’ I said, ‘I know exactly what you’re talking about, Steven. Jean and I were together on this venture for ten years, so we had a rapport. He’s evasive, but not nasty.’”
Shep wasn’t cast. However, Peter Billingsley did appear in two episodes of the show, so there was a Christmas Story connection made despite Shepherd’s absence.
For the musical, John Bolton was hired to reprise his role from the national tour as the Old Man. The New York–based actor received rave reviews in every city the tour had travelled to and, especially considering his proximity to the Great White Way, it would have been an outrageous snub to not cast him.
In the months before Bolton was cast, Scott Schwartz had been keeping his fingers crossed that Bolton would return to the stage to battle the furnace and take on the Bumpus hounds for another season. “He is unbelievable,” he says. “He is Jerry Lewis and Dick Van Dyke circa 1965. He is absolutely amazing. That is a Tony-winning performance. I hope that they keep him and that he stays with the show because he loves it. We understand he’s not a big name, he’s not a big star. He’s not Hugh Jackman. I’m just hoping they don’t go Hollywood and try to make the Old Man a big star because that would be an absolute shame and a crime to this man because he is awesome. He really is.”
Tedde Moore agreed: “I adored the actor who was playing the father at the time I saw the show,” she says. “I remember that. I thought he was just terrific.”
Part of what made Bolton’s performance stand out in the national tour was a show-stopping big production number set to the tune of “A Major Award,” the Pasek and Paul tune that may have been inspired by original composer Scott Davenport Richards’ song of nearly the same name. The jaunty sequence appears when the Old Man wins the infamous leg lamp statue for winning a crossword puzzle contest. The following five minutes consists of an elaborate fantasy sequence, in which the Old Man and his family become part of a leg lamp kickline.
In developing the barn-burning dance routine, Warren Carlyle, the show’s choreographer, said he had just one simple objective in giving movement to this classic story: “Everybody in America knows this story and the most important thing is not to screw things up,” he said. “My choreography looks like crazy Midwestern people opened the doors of their houses and started to dance.”
The leg lamp fantasy sequence © Carol Rosegg
© Carol Rosegg
If that’s what Carlyle was going for, then he hit the nail on the head. A Christmas Story, the Musical! is a great translation because the producers have remained true to not only the original film but also Shepherd’s intention for his characters. The first major test was whether or not the story’s holiday landscape would be downplayed for the sake of increasing the accessibility of the show, a suggestion the creative team ultimately rebuked.
“There was talking about making this un-Christmas[y] in some way,” Carlyle says. “Producers like to make a return on their investment. They’ll say, ‘Can’t we set it in March?’ But it’s got the word ‘Christmas’ in the title, so we decided we should embrace that and try and find the magic of what we all thought Christmas could be when we were kids.”
By September, a large billboard was erected above the marquee at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, where the musical was set to make its Broadway debut. The image was of a glowing leg lamp, which was prominently displayed in the center of the artwork against a forest green background, with the large, red logo for the play over it. On the right side of the lamp was a young boy in glasses, whom many probably assumed would be the actor playing Ralphie. He wasn’t, and as of that moment, nobody knew who would be starring in the show as the kid who wants a Red Ryder BB gun more than anything else in the world.
The Lunt-Fontanne Theatre © Josef Pinlac
A nationwide search was conducted for a new young actor to fill in for Clark Hallum, who had played Ralphie throughout the show’s five-city tour. In early October, with only a few weeks to go before the first preview performance, it was announced that Johnny Rabe, whose previous stage credit wasas one of the students in Miss Shields’ class during the tour, would be the primary heir to the role, while Joe West would pinch-hit during select performances.
Joe West © Carol Rosegg
“After months of searching, we are thrilled to have found two exceptionally talented boys to play the role of Ralphie,” producer Gerald Goehring said when the casting was announced. “Broadway’s newest twelve-year-old triple threat, Johnny Rabe, graduated from the ranks of the kids’ ensemble in last year’s tour to become our terrific young leading man. Joe West wowed us with his online video audition and now joins our fabulous company. We couldn’t be more excited to be the first to share these two young stars with the Broadway community!”
Just when it seemed the musical’s path to the theater capital of the world was going smoothly, an obstacle of epic proportions blew onto Manhattan Island. On October 25, a Category 1 hurricane made landfall in Atlantic City, which had widespread effects throughout the northeast. New York City experienced major flooding and power outages. Anticipating Sandy’s arrival, Broadway theaters closed on the 24th and their doors remained shut until the 26th, one day longer than the shutdown that had followed 9/11.
Even though A Christmas Story, the Musical! hadn’t opened yet, the aftermath of Sandy significantly impacted the producers’ rehearsal schedule. In order to ensure that the show met audience members’ expectations, the first preview performance was moved two days to November 7.
The show had its first sold-out performance on that Wednesday. The New York temperature seemed to cooperate in transforming the lavish Broadway playhouse into the frigid landscape of Midwestern Ohio. From the first note of the overture, the audience remained captivated as they watched their favorite holiday film unfold in front of their eyes, with some small, but significant changes.
Even more than the film, A Christmas Story, the Musical! is a story about the big hopes and dreams of simple people. Ralphie’s first ballad, “Red Ryder Carbine Action BB Gun,” is a driving number with a sense of energy and enthusiasm in which the show’s hero imagines all the people he could save from bad guys if his Christmas wish came true. For him, the gift isn’t just about childish selfishness, but about being important to his friends, teacher, and the Old Man. In the song, Ralphie imagines his father being so proud of him that he’d exclaim, “That boy, he’s my son!” It’s a touching moment that elevates the importance of the gift and causes the audience to root for him even more.
“The Genius on Cleveland Street,” sung by the Old Man while he’s filling out his puzzle, sees him musing about how he could prove to all his naysayers that he is smart and important if he won something, well, major, in a crossword contest. The number adds depth to the character and serves as an explanation as to why he is so excited when the leg lamp enters his life. It also causes the audience to reevaluate his disappointment when it is ultimately broken. For him, it’s not about the lamp’s provocativeness; it’s about his self-esteem and what the glowing trophy means for it.
Johnny Rabe at the Broadway premiere © Tyler Schwartz
One of the mos
t fun numbers in the show is “When You’re a Wimp,” which is performed by the schoolchildren, including Ralphie, Schwartz, Flick, and Randy, who is forced to remain with his hands pointed in opposite directions during the song because he “can’t put his arms down!” Throughout the sequence, the kids sing their displeasure at being picked on by Scut Farkus and Grover Dill, and fantasize about the days when eating all their vegetables will pay off and they’re able to seek vengeance on their tormentors. When Ralphie beats Farkus into a bloody-nosed pulp in the second act, you’re not just watching the emotional outburst of a child; you’re seeing one of the protagonist’s deepest wishes come true.
Jeremy Shinder, Johnny Rabe, and J.R. Rodriguez © Carol Rosegg
Perhaps the most remembered song is “Ralphie to the Rescue,” a fantasy sequence in which Ralphie imagines himself battling Black Bart, alligators, and the seven seas to save Miss Shields, who has been kidnapped by a band of pirates. The number is complete with well-choreographed stunts and dozens of dancers. It’s easily one of the most enjoyable numbers in the show, mostly for its overly dramatic justification of Ralphie’s fetishistic desire for his gun.
The songs for the musical may have impressed many in the audience, but Tedde Moore, who played Miss Shields in the film, thought there was room for improvement in Pasek and Paul’s score. “It’s not my favorite kind of music,” she explains. “It never really goes anywhere. I felt that the material cried out for tuneful songs that kids could sing and they just weren’t there.”
In fact, one of the most simultaneously lavish and ill-advised musical sequences is an extended number right after Ralphie receives a C+ on his Christmas theme. The scene changes quickly into another one of our hero’s fantasies, where this time Miss Shields, played on stage by the talented Caroline O’Connor, appears as a belting 1930s speakeasy performer in a red sequin dress. She, along with the musical’s impressive chorus of kids, teases Ralphie about his grade and taunts him with the familiar refrain about his eye getting shot out. The real highlight of that number is nine-year-old Luke Spring, who has a tap dance in the climax of the number. The moment moves audiences to wild applause, partially because of the youngster’s immense talent, but also because a small kid dressed as a gangster is undeniably cute.
The problem with the number isn’t the performance (which, in the Broadway production, was terrific), but the song’s staging and placement in the show. A Christmas Story, the Musical! clocked in at nearly two and a half hours, with most of the movie’s memorable scenes frontloaded in the first half. One notable exception is the flagpole sequence, which inexplicably went from being early in the movie to after intermission. However, by the time the speakeasy fantasy appeared, many in the audience appeared to be growing restless from the diversions in the plot. Just as Bob Clark had made the decision to edit out a number of the fantasy sequences from the original cut of the movie, some edits to the musical would have served the story better.
At one point during the performance, a woman seated in the mezzanine section pointed up at the disco ball that appeared on the stage during the tap number and asked the person sitting next to her, “We are watching A Christmas Story, aren’t we?” If the hum of chatter that grew in the audience as the number went on is any indication, it seemed as though others shared the woman’s sentiments.
Luke Spring and Caroline O’Connor © Carol Rosegg
While the musical is a fantastic adaptation, nearly all of the best-loved moments from the film that were reproduced on stage felt slightly anticlimactic. Much of the humor in the movie comes from close-ups and reaction shots — Flick’s elastic tongue as he tries to free himself from the frozen pole, the Old Man’s look of utter disgust as Randy eats like a “little piggy,” and the gleam in Ralphie’s eye when he discovers the Red Ryder present on Christmas morning — and it’s hard to reproduce those subtle moments on stage. The majority of the laughter in the theater came in anticipation of favorite sequences, like when the mother got Randy’s snowsuit or when the Old Man’s tire blew, but when the payoff occurred, the sound in the auditorium was noticeably thinner.
Without a doubt, the audience was most tickled when Andrew Cristi reprised his role from the show’s national tour as the Chinese waiter during the restaurant scene. It seemed as if the entire audience sang along with the “Fa-rah-rah-rah-rah” chorus, a sight that would surely have made the show’s original composer, Scott Davenport Richards, cringe and hang his head in disappointment.
Jonathan Burke, George Wolffe, Nicholas Daniel Gonzalez, and Adam Pelty © Carol Rosegg
Despite some mild critiques, Broadway critics, Tedde Moore, and others in the Christmas Story community remained genuinely impressed with the show as a whole. “I thought they did all sorts of interesting, fun things with it,” Moore said. “I liked it. I’m a big, big supporter of it. I also thought it was a great subject for a musical. It didn’t end up with the sing-songy songs that old-fashioned me would have liked, but tastes change. Everybody else seems to be happy with the direction that musicals are headed in, so off we go!”
“I saw when they opened it up in Kansas City, and it was wonderful,” Scott Schwartz says. “I saw it again in Seattle. Overall, it’s a wonderful show.” For Schwartz, the musical not only exceeded his expectations but also surpassed the quality of one of the most beloved shows running on Broadway against A Christmas Story.
“They say The Lion King is a wonderful show, but I went to sleep,” he says. “It’s just very odd, if you’re not seven years old. People galloping around in lion masks doesn’t really interest me. I went to see it because everyone said, ‘Oh my God, it’s great!’ Now, this is different. It’s got a mixture of something for everybody, like the movie.”
“I liked it,” says Brian Jones. “I thought the stage was fabulous. Jerry [Goehring] really put a lot of work into it. He’s got himself a winner there.”
“Imaginative, hilarious at spots, heartwarming and just plain good family fun, this new show is a must for the holidays,” Joseph Cervelli of The Record newspaper in New Jersey said.
“Try enough times to turn a beloved holiday movie into a Broadway franchise (Elf, Irving Berlin’s White Christmas), and eventually one of them has to score,” Richard Zoglin of Time said. “This is the one.”
For those involved with the production since early on in the process, Steven Suskin’s review of the Broadway show for Variety might be the most rewarding: “This holiday confection has not had an easy road along the development trail; since 2009, it’s gone through multiple songwriters, directors, choreographers and cast members,” he wrote. “In this case, perseverance — and a willingness by producers to identify problems and make necessary changes — has paid off in a merry way indeed.”
Although it may have initially seemed like an incongruous fit to some, A Christmas Story, the Musical! found a perfect home on Broadway. When the show ended its limited engagement in January, its future was uncertain, which was fitting, because so was the future of the whole Christmas franchise.
CHAPTER TEN
The Shark and the Real Turkey
When the popular television series Happy Days kicked off its fifth season in 1977, its producers certainly had no idea they were about to figuratively “jump the shark.” In the final installment of its three-part season opener, Henry Winkler’s famous Fonz character rides on water skis and is tasked with jumping over a confined shark in the Pacific Ocean. The episode was well received at the time — it attracted 30 million viewers — and the series ended five years later. However, in retrospect, that event was seen as a definitive moment, when the series began to lose steam, forcing writers to come up with increasingly wild and silly plot devices to maintain their viewers’ interest and augment their ratings. Less than twenty years later, the term “jump the shark” was coined to describe any series that had lost its spark by resorting to increasingly ridiculous plots
, often losing its audience as a result.
A contestant in a Christmas Story look-alike contest at the 2007 convention in Cleveland © Cindy Jones
Sometimes it is difficult to tell when a pop property jumps the shark, but other times, it’s painfully obvious. In the American version of The Office, the show began a swift decline when star Steve Carell left the series. Cousin Oliver failed to attract new viewers in The Brady Bunch’s fifth season. Has anyone seen all of the direct-to-DVD American Pie sequels and, if so, do they admit it? And as cute as Raven-Symoné was on The Cosby Show, everyone saw her addition to the cast for what it was — a desperate attempt to re-inject some youth into the show since little Rudy had become a teenager over the course of the show’s run.
When producers and executives decide to extend a franchise past its prime, they’re doing so either because they think fans can’t part with their favorite characters or because the producers themselves don’t want their popular properties to stop making them money. Either way, these decisions are often severely misguided. At best, they fail to excite their most loyal supporters; at worse, they threaten to alienate fans and damage the franchise’s reputation with the general public.
In 1988, capitalizing on A Christmas Story’s increasing popularity, the Disney Channel aired Ollie Hopnoodle’s Haven of Bliss, a made-for-TV movie written by Jean Shepherd and produced by Fred Barzyk. The two had previously collaborated on several television specials for PBS inspired by the raconteur’s short stories. The reunion between Shepherd and Barzyk was a surprise, mostly because it seemed as though the Bob Clark film had signaled a significant turning point in Shep’s career.
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