Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

But I got an emptiness deep inside
And I’ve tried, but it won’t let me go
And I’m not a man who likes to swear
But I never cared for the sound of being alone

I like Neil Diamond. His songs peppered my childhood then slid into the mellow soft rock of my young adulthood. Melancholy rock might be a good term. So I was pleased to see that The Neil Diamond Story: A Beautiful Noise opening the Broadway Series this fall.

The storyline is interesting – an older Neil Diamond (Robert Westenberg) is reluctantly meeting with a therapist (Lisa Renee Pitts) who uses his songbook to persuade him to talk … about the music. Their banter went from tentative, perhaps genuine attempts by Diamond to participate in an uncomfortable setting to a robust banter as she learned about his music and he faced some hard truths about himself.

It is an interesting device, but a little stretched in this case. Perhaps it required too much intimacy with his lyrics – I was a little confused about the frog and king metaphor, reducing the story a bit to yet another fame v family narrative. The song “I Am I Said” – I always interpreted differently.

Diamond’s story is probably familiar – quiet young kid finds his voice with a guitar and pen, writes some hits for other people, begins to sing for himself, skyrockets to fame, lose some wives (and alimony), then grows more introspective in his golden years with a much younger wife. That feels like a retread of other biopics.

What is unique is the exploration of how his personal life tied to songs. He explored everything from his grandparents’ immigration story to the ups and downs of his relationships, his lonely childhood, his desire to have an emotional connection. What’s ultimately tragic about this story, this show, is that Diamond was singing these intimate thoughts to millions of people, but not talking about them with anyone.

The show moves from his early days fumbling around on stages and with nefarious recording experts to suddenly a big boisterous Neil Diamond as most of us remember him – a sequin covered glorious rock star with one foot in the mellow softness and one in the big bold majestic anthems.

The music is great, the musicians incorporated into the set with an especially enthusiastic drummer. The costuming is amazing – so many quick changes, so many decades, so many hairstyles. And all seamless (see what I did there?)

The choreography and stagework are very impressive, more so when incorporated into the storytelling as reflections of Diamond’s own thoughts – dancers springing out to bits and pieces of songs, like they come to life. It really is a fantastic use of the Greek chorus, one of the best I’ve seen.

Some of the songs didn’t quite fit the storyline – his second wife Marcia Murphey (Hannah Jewel Kohn) visits him on tour where he gives her diamonds and she assures him she understands his way of life. A scene later, she’s dancing in blue jeans singing ‘Forever in Blue Jeans’ as she bemoans his absence. It is a really REALLY extended segment that did not deserve that much stagetime. Then they broke up to ‘You Don’t Bring Me Flowers’ a song released a year before Blue Jeans.

I realize its not a chronology of the songs, but Marcia is not a sympathetic character. She amped him up to become a big star in spite of his pregnant wife and child waiting at home. Then she was the wife waiting at home with her children. What did she expect? Kohn has pipes and dances enthusiastically. But in spite of her prominent role in his life, she was a background character with too many solos.

Themes crept into many music segments, mainly ‘America’ and ‘Shiloh’ … ‘America’ made me wonder how many Republicans were in the audience ignorantly cheering on this song about immigration while missing the entire point? If Diamond’s grandparents hadn’t fled from violent oppression in Poland and Russia – violent, deadly, life ending systemic oppression of entire families – they wouldn’t be rocking out to ‘Cracklin Rosie’ here in Pittsburgh this year. If America had not taken in those refugees and immigrants, ‘Sweet Caroline’ would not look so good.

I weep for the lost opportunity to help people make those connections. Art, high and low brow, is not just for our entertainment. And I bring it up in this review because that’s the best I can do – point out that the emperor is not wearing any clothes.

Nick Fradiani as Neil Diamond is magnificent. He’s convincing as an awkward young songwriter and a worldwide phenom. His voice isn’t quite as gravely as the original, but lovely and strong. I was struck by how much he resembles John Stamos who is not the singer Diamond is but is definitely a better actor. Fradiani has a lot of stage presence, switching with ease between engaging his ‘audience’ to interacting wihttps://www.latimes.com/nation/la-xpm-2013-apr-21-la-na-nn-boston-marathon-neil-diamond-20130420-story.htmlth his on-stage friends and family (even a foe.)

The Neil Diamong Musica: A Beautiful Noise continues through September 14 at The Benedum. If you are a Neil Diamond fan, you’ll definitely enjoy the show. If you like an interesting biopic, it is also a winner. And certainly a more deserving story than the non-stop pop music soundtracks layered onto existing stories.

Our failure to understand, our willingness to remain oblivious to the actual stories behind the music is Broadway’s great shame. Tell the stories so people understand, not lull us into an encore to sell more merch. Nostalgia should give rise to contemplation, not complacency.

I really wish there was more younger people in the audience. Not to begrudge a Boomer their night on the town, but this type of biopic could be a masterclass in pre-Internet musicology.

One final note. If you hate ‘Sweet Caroline’ simply because of its enduring presence in our lives as an athletic hype song, you are missing the point – one of my favorite stories is how a 72 year old Neil Diamond flew commercial to Boston from his Los Angeles Home and showed up at Fenway Park, offering to perform ‘Sweet Caroline.’ Like he literally called from the airport and asked if it would be okay. That’s the sweetness of our favorite gruffy superstart.