In the compelling and moving new musical having its world premiere at La Jolla Playhouse this fall, Bonnie and Clyde are a couple of crazy kids in love. They're also among 20th century America's most notorious criminals, but their infamous Depression-era crime spree seems almost secondary in "Bonnie and Clyde."
That seems the intention of composer Frank Wildhorn, lyricist Don Black and bookwriter Ivan Menchell, whose "Bonnie and Clyde" has the feel and romance of a tragic love story. The new musical honestly depicts the true-life exploits of Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker ---- whose gang robbed more than a dozen banks and killed 13 people before they died in a hail of bullets in 1934 ---- but it delivers the facts with a shading of understanding about what may have motivated the young couple's crimes and how their poor but honest families suffered as the result.
Poignantly and thoughtfully directed by Jeff Calhoun, "Bonnie and Clyde" is a moody, minor-key love story that eschews traditional musical staples (there's no overture or entr'acte, no dance scenes, few big ensemble numbers and a low-key finale), but it delivers big in other ways.
Wildhorn's richly harmonic, countrified score (accented by music supervisor/orchestrator/arranger John McDaniel with banjo, dobro and other folk instruments) evokes Depression-era Texas with old-timey harmonies, a bluesy gospel number, and folk-rock ballads, most of which smartly advance the story. And Black's lyrics have the colorful language and rustic feel of the period.
Wildhorn knows how to write a hook, and this score is full of them. Some of the best songs are the twangy women's anthem "You're Going Back to Jail," the men's duet "You Can Do Better Than Him," the calm-before-the storm quartet "How 'Bout a Dance," the romantic duet "Dyin' Ain't So Bad" and Bonnie's mother's mournful lament, "Devil."
Menchell's subtle and detailed book is touching, honest and funny, and it closely captures the personalities of these real-life characters ---- cocky Clyde, fame-worshipping Bonnie and their partners in crime: Buck, Clyde's dimwitted brother, and Blanche, Buck's devout but devoted wife.
"Bonnie and Clyde" is in remarkable shape for a new musical that's come to the stage with only two readings and no workshops. Where it still needs work is in the first act, where it takes a long time to get to why we've heard of this infamous duo, and there are too many sound-alike, repetitive songs that slow the pacing. Easy cuts could be the cliched and unmelodic "Long Arm of the Law" and the prison number "16 Years," which could be told more simply in words than music, along with the second-act "These Are What You Call Guns."
Menchell works hard to make Bonnie and Clyde lovable ---- perhaps too hard. Barrow was a career criminal and an unapologetic murderer, but he's mostly depicted here as simply misunderstood and driven to kill only in self-defense, and Bonnie's taste for bad boys and guns could be explored more deeply. A few more warts would add to the realism that Calhoun so smartly injects into the staging ---- like shocking explosions of stage blood, a grisly Act One finale, brief flashes of partial nudity, and a beautifully envisioned scene that freezes a shootout in time to give Clyde (and the audience) a chance to catch their collective breath.
Calhoun's cast is superb, particularly Stark Sands as Clyde. He's a shape-shifting mix of cockiness, slithery charm, icy calculation and a hair-trigger temperament. He's also got great chemistry with Osnes, whose Bonnie is needy, sensuous and almost contemporary in her media-focused self-adoration (Parker reveled in having her crime poems printed in the newspapers, and she dreamed of having her picture in the paper).
As Blanche, Melissa van der Schyff looks, sounds and sings like woman straight out of 1930s West Dallas, and she's got pluck, humor and sass on top.
Mare Winningham steals all of her scenes as Bonnie's long-suffering mother Emma Parker, and her second-act solo "The Devil" is one of the show's most moving moments. Claybourne Elder seems an unwitting criminal as Clyde's none-too-bright brother Buck. Chris Peluso has some nice solos as Ted (one of the officers who killed the couple, and who in this musical is depicted as carrying a torch for Bonnie). Wayne Duvall is just right as the drawling, redneck Texas sheriff, and Michael Lanning is the ensemble's best singer.
Tobin Ost's scenic design ---- zigzag platforms and sliding walls of weather-beaten, whitewashed wood ---- conjures the feel of the Dust Bowl era, and it serves as the ideal backdrop for Aaron Rhyne's projections (from '30s-era advertisements to newspaper articles and crime stories of the day). Ost also designed the period costumes (Bonnie's are perfect matches for the real thing). Michael Gilliam designed the mood-enhancing lighting, and Brian Ronan designed sound. "Bonnie and Clyde" runs two hours, 30 minutes, with intermission. Because of its subject matter, it may be best suited for audiences ages 16 and up.
La Jolla Playhouse has been the launching pad for several Broadway-bound musicals over the years, and judging by the quality of "Bonnie and Clyde," this show has the goods to go all the way. With a few nips and trims, this musical has the heart, substance and score to become one of Wildhorn's classics.
"Bonnie and Clyde"
When: 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays and Wednesdays; 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays; 7 p.m. Sundays; through Dec. 20
Where: Mandell Weiss Theatre, La Jolla Playhouse complex, UC San Diego, 2910 La Jolla Village Drive, La Jolla
Tickets: $43-$78; has some adult content
Info: 858-550-1010
