Alan Jay Lerner: A Lyricist's Letters (56 page)

    
Ironically,
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue
itself was the subject of the next letter. Lerner had remained on good terms with Leonard Bernstein after the show’s untimely demise, but this was the first time a revival had been seriously
suggested. Bernstein wrote to ask whether Lerner would allow someone else to come in and revise the show’s book, and he invited Lerner to revise his own lyrics. In his reply, Lerner indicates his willingness to allow the project to take place, and although he expresses a keenness to work on the lyrics himself, he even permits Bernstein to bring in someone else to do that too. The letter is mostly of interest, however, for his ideas on why the show didn’t work in its original form:

    
To Leonard Bernstein

    
April 16, 1985

    
My dear old chum,

    
Robby [Lantz] passed on to me your interest in trying to reshape and make something out of
1600
. I gather that although there is no schedule you would like to get it done some time before the tri-centennial.

        
To get to the point: of course a fresh eye is needed. Even though I’ve had an eye implant and don’t wear glasses any more (can you believe it?), I don’t think this brand new one will be sufficient, and I would welcome a writer with ideas on how to re-organise and rewrite.

        
As far as the lyrics are concerned, I suddenly seem to have taken a new lease on life and am scribbling like fury. I have a musical [
Gigi
] in rehearsal here in July which John Dexter is directing, and am two-thirds through the score of another that Allan Carr plans to put in rehearsal sometime in the autumn. Besides that I am just completing a huge tome for Collins on a history of the musical theatre since Offenbach. So if the right time for you should be impossible for me, and time adjustments cannot be arranged, as much as I would dislike it I would understand if you had to turn to someone else for any additional lyrics. But I truly hope that will only be the last resort. I would love to have another crack at it.

        
It is very interesting how
1600
started because Robby remembers its inception one way and I have a clear memory of it in another. Originally I wanted to do five episodes which were critical in the history of the White House. I remember that I thought the entire production would look like a rehearsal, on the theory that democracy is still rehearsing. Robby, on the other hand, is convinced that the original intention was to write a sort of “Upstairs, Downstairs” history of the White House—without the upstairs. In other words, it would be told strictly through the eyes of a multi-generational servant family. What I think we got was a mixture of both with moments of the black experience thrown in, all of which added up to a horse with three heads. I still vote for the “upstairs” story—perhaps now even more than ever because the upstairs material
is fresher and we have been surfeited with the history of the blacks in America. Another reason is because I don’t—and didn’t—do that sort of thing very well. But, I am open to any and all approaches.

        
In any event, I have some two thousand books and crates of pre-play material that are finally about to be shipped over to me and I will be able to examine all those early versions.

        
I am, at long last, not happily married but ecstatically so to a smashing lady—we’ve been together for five years and married for four, a track record for me. We bought a house too quickly that was and is too small, but we have finally got around to looking for a place large enough to accommodate all that I left in storage. I adore living in London and I’ve had the most wonderful five years of my life here. So whenever we meet—which I hope will be soon, somewhere—prepare yourself for a bubbling version of your old Virgo friend.

        
I hear the new
West Side Story
⁹⁹
album is terrific. We have been in Spain for a few days on hol and this is our first day back, but I’ve already ordered a copy.

        
I think of you often. And always with love.

Aye,

Alan

In spite of Lerner’s enthusiasm, the revival never came to fruition in Lerner or Bernstein’s lifetime.

    
However, the rewritten
Gigi
made it to the stage in the early fall of 1985. It was ready to go into rehearsal in late July, but hit a snag at the last minute when Loewe suddenly withdrew permission for the extra songs that had been written for the 1973 Broadway production to be used. Since “Paris Is Paris Again” was a particular cornerstone of Lerner’s reconceived book, he wrote to Loewe in an attempt to persuade him to let him use it:

    
To Frederick Loewe

    
July 15, 1985

    
Fritz,

    
There has been so much legal back and forthing about what songs can or cannot be used in “Gigi” that I thought, perhaps, I could cut through it all by giving you a history of the enterprise over here.

        
The idea of bringing “Gigi” to London originated over a year and a half ago with Cameron Mackintosh, who, as you know, did “My Fair Lady” and did us proud. It was while Cam was planning it that John Dexter, who certainly in everybody’s opinion is one of the best directors in the world, became involved. What Dexter had in mind, and God knows I agreed with him and I am sure you would, too, was to capture the intimacy of the film—which, as we know, did not have the usual M-G-M production numbers, etcetera—but, at the same time, not be haunted by the film. It would be a true theatrical piece and not what Gerald Bordman, in his authoritative History of the Musical Theatre when writing about “Gigi,” said: “Lerner and Loewe’s enchanting film musical was lifted off the screen and set down uncomfortably on the legitimate stage. The translation from film script to play script was mere hack work.” So what Dexter had in mind, for example, was to begin on a bare stage and create Paris before our eyes, the restaurant in the Bois, thereby giving it a fresh, theatrical, as opposed to cinematic, beginning. Scenes would move gracefully from one to the other musically and it would, in a sense, become a little theatrical jewel, as the film was a cinematic jewel. Honoré would narrate a little more than he did to maintain the flow. But the first essential was to find a genuinely superb Gigi.

        
When Cam’s schedule became overcrowded—he is doing three new companies of “Cats” all over the world, plus a musical version of “Les Miserables” at the Royal Shakespeare, plus Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Song and Dance” in New York, all within three months—Sir Louis Benjamin of Moss-Stohl, Jerome Minskoff (who is now functioning a great deal over here—he is involved in eighteen plays) and Helen Montagu, who is David Merrick’s silent assistant in London on “42
^nd
Street” and an immensely experienced and respected lady, all joined forces to bring it to the West End. Had we waited for Cam, we would have lost John Dexter and Cam understood that and gave us all his blessing.

        
The cast that Dexter has assembled is superb and he found a Gigi aged nineteen, who will probably be the next Audrey Hepburn. She is enchanting looking, sings well and is a smashing little actress. The sets and costumes are ravishing and “Gigi” will be the most elegant musical since “My Fair Lady.”

        
To help the movement from scene to scene, in two places “Paris Is Paris Again” suddenly became really an integral part of the play, and the charm of Amanda Waring
¹⁰⁰
(Gigi) really gives “Wide, Wide World” the touching importance it never had.

        
I did a lot of work theatricalizing the script, fundamentally in the transitions, and writing extra half-choruses here and there to the film score, also to assist in those transitions.

        
We are playing in one of the choice theatres in London, the Lyric Theatre, which we would never have got except that Moss-Stohl owns the theatre.

        
Rehearsals are to begin a week from today and last week was the first time we heard that you only wished songs from the film to be used. If your desire was conditioned by the success of Louis Jourdan’s production, let me assure you it was dreadful and only successful in places because of Louis combined with “Gigi.” When I read the script, I told Dave Grossberg to make certain it never appeared within 150 miles of New York. Even Cam, when he saw it, was appalled.

        
Also, the fact is at this point that management has rights that cannot be withdrawn. The Dramatists’ Guild Law and the law over here is that only one of the authors’ signatures is required. The reason for this is that if the other author (or authors) is unhappy, he can have his version done by someone else. Because I signed the contract with the full confidence that you would be as pleased about the production as I, the producers now have the right to the stage version.

        
So what we are really discussing is two songs, and you must know that if either does not work I am certainly not going to leave it in. But you are at a disadvantage because you have not seen or heard the girl, and have not been party to all the meetings with Dexter and cannot see how artfully he has blended the entire production.

        
There is simply no comparison to what will appear on the stage at the Lyric Theatre to any other version of “Gigi” there has ever been, at least in English. And, I repeat, anything that needs changing or dropping will be.

        
Isn’t it wonderful about the Kennedy honours?

Aye,

Alan

The change of tone between this and Lerner’s letters to Loewe of 1956, when they were at the height of their fame and intimacy, is noticeable, but Lerner keeps his patience in spite of Loewe’s evidently having dragged his feet. The final sentence refers to the fact that Lerner and Loewe had just been invited to receive Kennedy Center Honors in December of the same year, yet another sign of the nostalgia that had developed for their collaborations even as Lerner was continuing to produce new work with other composers.

    
Gigi
opened in September to mixed reviews, most of which blamed Dexter’s “stiff” direction as one of the main problems.
¹⁰¹
For Lerner, it was a great disappointment, as he confided to Loewe after the event, but at least the
Gigi
brand name guaranteed reasonable advance sales:

    
To Frederick Loewe

    
October 8, 1985,

    
Fritz,

    
I thought it was about time to give you a progress report on “Gigi.” First, the good news.

        
The show is an unqualified smash. In a small theatre of less than 1,000 seats, we are doing close to £60,000 a week, which is a house record for the Lyric Theatre. The audiences adore it, there are lines at the window every day, the advance is around £250,000 and seats are being sold into April and May.

        
The album has been made and I will send you a copy as soon as it is off the press. I think you will like it about as much as I do, which is that it is adequate. As you know, we only have ten men in the pit and the man who sings “Gigi” has had throat problems since we opened.

        
The not-so-good news is that John Dexter, who came heralded with an immense reputation, turned out to be a disaster, never directed the actors, and lit the whole thing like an opera. The opening night was very wobbly and the notices reflected it. However, Beryl Reid
¹⁰²
who plays Mamita, whether she remembers her lines or not—more often not—can do no wrong with the British public. Jean-Pierre Aumont,
¹⁰³
although charming, suffered from lack of direction.

        
Since it has opened, I have gotten more lights on the stage and better performances, and the subsequent reviews in the Sunday papers and magazines were much better than the dailies. The dailies took up so much space criticizing John Dexter there was hardly room to talk about anything else.

        
But, bit by bit, the show is getting in shape. Sian Phillips, who plays Aunt Alicia, is superb, and the little girl, Amanda Waring, is an adorable Gigi.

        
The sum total is that the audience likes it better than I do, and undoubtedly better than you would. What does work is the small size of it, which seems appropriate for the intimacy of the story—and the British do love romance. There is no question it will run for at least a year and possibly more. The theatre manager, who is a very wise old bird, is convinced it will run over two years. However long it runs, you can add another year for touring the provinces. In order to protect the territory, I have asked Dave [Grossberg] to make certain there are no more stock and amateur rights in England while the show is running first class.

        
Needless to say, “Gigi” is being played constantly on the air, and once the album comes out—next week—I know it will get a lot of performances. The principal disc jockeys here are all good friends of mine, and the most important man on the air, David Jacobs,
¹⁰⁴
has become one of my closest friends. “On The Street Where You Live” is his theme song and he plays us four or five times a week.

        
I will see you in Washington.

        
Love to Francine.

Aye,

Alan

    
He also wrote the following two letters to Burton Lane after the opening, keeping in touch with him about the emerging revisions to
Carmelina
. Lane had visited Lerner in London over the summer with Barry Harman (the new lyricist) and they had discussed their mutual ideas for the new version. Lane wrote to thank Lerner for his hospitality, to suggest a London revision of
Clear Day
for Liz Robertson, and to ask whether he would join Lane in giving permission to a new small New York record company, Premier Recordings, to record some of the songs from their aborted
Huckleberry Finn
of three decades earlier. The following two letters are Lerner’s brief replies to these enquiries, and are his last surviving letters to Lane: