Frozen – Memphis Flyer

With temperatures expected to be in the 100s this week, anything with the word “Frozen” in it sounds good.

So, that’s a good reason to go see the musical, Frozen, which runs through July 2nd at The Orpheum.

It’s great.

For some reason, I knew nothing about Frozen except the name and the image of “Elsa,” the main character. And that’s thanks to my great-niece, who has gotten Elsa dolls and, I guess, anything else associated with Frozen, for years as birthday and Christmas presents.

Whenever I confessed my ignorance about Frozen to anybody, I was greeted with, “You haven’t seen the MOVIE?”

They were referring to the Disney animated movie and, I guess, the sequel, Frozen II.

No, I never saw the movies. Again, my mind was frozen as far as learning anything about the musical. This time I just wanted to experience something I knew absolutely nothing about. I closed my ears to spoilers.

I wasn’t disappointed that I waited until I saw it opening night June 22nd.

The musical with its perfect cast at The Orpheum is wonderful. Caroline Bowman is, to me, the embodiment of “Elsa,” which I only previously knew from drawings and dolls. And, speaking of dolls, I still remember the giant Elsa doll I didn’t buy one Christmas for my great-niece. She had no idea I was thinking about buying it for her. I’ll tell her when she reaches her 30th birthday.

I felt better about not buying that doll after her mother bought her Elsa and Anna (Elsa’s sister) dolls, which are on sale during the performances. My great nephew is getting an Olaf doll. That’s the snowman in Frozen.

Elsa and Anna dolls are on sale at *Frozen* at the Orpheum. (Credit: Michael Donahue)

I asked Orpheum president/CEO Brett Batterson to give me some background on this fabulous show.

“It’s doing very well,” he says. And, for those who don’t have tickets, he says, “We have some tickets left for next weekend ’cause it’s the Fourth of July weekend. Best ticket availability is this weekend.”

Brett Batterson at *Frozen* at the Orpheum (Credit: Michael Donahue)

If you think you’ve seen Frozen previously at the Orpheum, you’re wrong. “This is the first time we’ve had Frozen. It’s the last of the current Disney programs to make an appearance at the Orpheum. Everything Disney has out touring right now we have presented at least once. So, we hope that Disney creates some new shows. And we’ll keep bringing back the old faithfuls like Lion King and Aladdin.”

I had to ask Batterson what percentage of little girls were showing up dressed as Elsa at Orpheum performances. I saw lots of them, including my great-nice, in their flowing, diaphanous gowns gliding through the theater.

“Probably 60 or 70 percent,” Batterson says. “But there’s been a lot of them.”

Libby King, Millie King, Cecile Pacello, Colette Pacello, and Olivia Wilmot at *Frozen* at the Orpheum (Credit: Michael Donahue)

Tesharri and Nayah Gooch at *Frozen* at the Orpheum (Credit: Michael Donahue)

BACK ROW: Liz Smith, Hadley Miller, Meade Carlisle; FRONT ROW: Genevieve Miller, Lottie Smith, Caroline Carlisle at *Frozen* at the Orpheum (Credit: Michael Donahue)

Three generations: Alice Kerley, Annie Kerley, and Kathy McLallen at *Frozen* at the Orpheum (Credit: Michael Donahue)

By the way, I did notice a movie also called Frozen came out in 2010. A Rotten Tomatoes synopsis I found on Google says, “As a winter storm approaches, three people become stranded on a chairlift high above the ground after a ski resort closes for the night.”

Elsa, apparently, doesn’t have anything to do with this movie. But it does sound like another beat-the-heat movie I might want to check out.

Moth Moth Moth at *Frozen* at the Orpheum (Credit: Michael Donahue)

Connor Trahan and Abigail Morici at *Frozen* at the Orpheum (Credit: Michael Donahue)

I ran into my old pal, John Beifuss, at *Frozen* at the Orpheum

It’s easy to laugh at Cats because the second you de-suspend your disbelief, the show quickly devolves into two hours of watching grown men and women prancing and leaping about the stage in furry kitty tights. Silly? Undoubtedly. But even the harshest Andrew Lloyd Webber detractor (and I happen to qualify) has to allow that Cats was “le Cirque” when the word “cirque” wasn’t even in the American vocabulary and is an impressive showcase for acrobatic performers. Theatre Memphis’ spirited mounting of the feline sensation capitalizes on its athletic cast to deliver a production with fresher tabbies than you’ll find in the road-weary tatters of an average tour.

Throughout the 1980s it was common to review any lame-leaning event with the deadpan comment “I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats.” The nearly plotless musical went into production in 1982, and by 1985, no serious (or seriously ironic) T-shirt collection was complete without this crew-necked trophy, proving you’d seen the show. It’s only fitting (in a creepy, deeply ’80s, Bret Easton Ellis kind of way) that shirts nearly identical to the iconic originals are sold in the lobby and that the dominant image on the skyline of Theatre Memphis’ set is the illuminated logo of Sun Trust Bank, the show’s presenting sponsor.

But all crassness aside, the show is a triumph of community theater and a throwback to the days when Theatre Memphis had a reputation for bringing Broadway to Perkins Extended. From the elaborate costumes produced in-house to the dancers’ synchronized tap breakdowns, TM has achieved a sustained level of professionalism it has seldom seen since the late 1980s. Mitzi Hamilton’s energetic choreography drives the winning performances of Robert Hanford (Rum Tum Tugger), Christi Gray Hall (Jennyanydots), Jason M. Spitzer (Bustopher Jones), Meg Greer (Grizabella), and Keith Anton (Old Deuteronomy).

This latest musical take on T.S. Eliot’s most frivolous verses isn’t likely to change the minds of the show’s critics. But Cats is the definitive theatrical success story of the late 20th century. Critics’ opinions hardly matter.

When Frozen closes at Circuit Playhouse on July 9th, Memphis’ theater scene will be a poorer place. Jonathon Lamer, who delivers a chilling performance as Frozen‘s pedophiliac serial killer, is leaving for the West Coast. For nearly a decade, Lamer has been a solid everyman, turning in one fine performance after another in shows like Sideman, Take Me Out, and this, his farewell performance.

Under the no-frills direction of Dave Landis, Frozen does everything a good thriller is supposed to do. It ties the audience in knots pitting emotions against intellect, forcing us to sympathize with a character we’re inclined to revile.

Leigh Nichols flits between certainty and crippling doubt as a criminal psychologist determined to map the frozen wastes of the killer’s mind, and Irene Crist is characteristically thorough as the victim’s mother.

Crist’s monologues can fall into a slow, droning cadence, giving the slow-moving but no less engaging show a sleepier, dreamier tone than it deserves, but it’s a minor complaint. The show’s shakier moments are more than overcome by Lamer’s unflinching essay of a man who sincerely wishes that killing little girls was legal and steadily awakes to the physically painful concept of remorse.