After ambling through San Francisco and New Jersey, the musical version of A Walk on the Moon has landed Off-Broadway. The story is set in 1969 during a summer of great societal change. America is about to win the space race against Russia with astronaut Neil Armstrong soon to take his first historic steps and anti-war voices are being amplified in a field near Woodstock, New York. Pearl and Marty, a working-class Jewish couple from Brooklyn, have arrived at Marty’s mother’s bungalow in the Catskills along with their teenage daughter, Alison, and younger son, Daniel. Pearl tries to keep busy playing mahjong and making pancakes, but her life feels restricted and meaningless. With Marty working in the city on weekdays, she finds herself attracted to a handsome salesman, Walker Jerome, who introduces her to the writings of Jack Kerouac and vivid visions of a liberated life in California.
The script is based on playwright Pamela Gray’s recollections of her own eventful summer and the clash of cultures between a family-oriented Jewish resort and the seismic concert being staged just up the road. The original 1999 film of A Walk on the Moon wasn’t a box office sensation, but it did succeed in pricking many a conscious. Throughout its metamorphosis into something more family-friendly, much of the emotional jeopardy and steamy content of that previous work has been peeled away leaving a lumpy center. The many years that have passed since Betty Friedan was on the best seller list haven’t helped keep the required sensibilities relevant to a new generation without that provocative context and detail.
Director Sheryl Kaller’s vision is equally nebulous as seen through designer Tal Yarden’s haze of grainy television clips and a tangle of fairytale tree branches with a cartoonish moon above. Though former Elphaba, Talia Suskauer, gives Pearl a vocal lift, her character arc is stifled in this PG reinterpretation of her journey. Even her scenes with fellow Wicked alum Sam Gravitte as Walker are tepid. And with the tender encounter between her husband Marty (Max Chernin) and Walker removed from the rundown, Pearl’s introspection and subsequent shift lose much of their validity. Into this developmental void step Sophie Pollono’s rebellious Alison and Oscar Williams as Ross “the Jewish Hendrix,” her sweet and funny crush. There is a much needed charge of energy whenever they are on stage together.
Some composers can write memorable tunes about finishing hats and waving through a window. AnnMarie Milazzo does not succeed with this work. Just rehashing a line doesn’t give it meaning. While there are echos of Joni Mitchell and CSNY in some of the melodies, most feel like they are breezing through the theater on their way to the exit. (My friend called the music “song adjacent.”) There is also the issue of having the orchestra perched above the stage where the musicians are often distractingly eye-catching. Of the creative team members, Matthew Armentrout deserves a spotlight for his groovy wigs and hair design.
As an Off-Broadway offering, A Walk on the Moon resembles the featured tie-dyed shirt with a choked off plot-line and muted colors. But despite everything stated above, the audience obviously didn’t give a fig about my or my fellow critics’ insights. They were there to have a good time, filling the house and clapping along. Performances continue through August 22 at the Laura Pels Theatre at the Harold and Miriam Steinberg Center for Theatre, 111 West 46th Street. Running time is 2 ½ hours with one 15 minute intermission. Tickets start at a very reasonable $56 and can be purchased at https://awalkonthemoonmusical.com/.
The Unforgettable Line 