Gypsy Reviews

The original casting package for this blockbuster no doubt would have created motion picture history, with Miss Show Business herself, Judy Garland taking on the Ethel Merman legend, and the steamy Ann-Margret re-creating the strips of famed burlesque queen Gypsy Rose Lee. We love Roz, and her comic business as quintessential stage ma Rose Hovick is terrific; her moments of pathos don't disappoint, either, but she's just not the cyclonic force of nature that made Merman immortal in the annals of show business history. With her mother-resentments, and grueling vaudeville childhood, the thought of Garland is a chilling one indeed, for GYPSY is a musical about child abuse and frustrated ambition, though sometimes funny it may be. As Gypsy, Natalie Wood lacks the latent sex appeal that needs to come to life when Rose's ambitions land the act she manages into lowlife burlesque, where the "untalented" Louise finds her niche at last. Though expertly coached by the original herself, Wood resembles a plastic wind-up doll strutting the runway, and that her cleveage was the result of extensive adhesive tape has passed into Hollywood lore long ago. Mervyn LeRoy, sans any brass in casting, directs with an abrasive hand, as if coarse treatment can make up for what's missing. But Karl Malden, Ann Jillian (Dainty June), and Morgan Brittany (Baby June) are just right, and as three healthy surrogate stripper moms, Faith Dane, Roxanne Arlen, and especially Betty Bruce are perfection, playing dames actresses today don't know how to approach. The script's guts have been torn out; Leonard Spiegelgass prettied up Arthur Laurents's perfect work, presumably to throw sympathy to the star. There is an atmospheric strip montage that captures the spirit of Minsky and some great costumes, but Tucker's choreography has been largely snatched from Jerome Robbins. The score, with music by Jule Styne and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, is so perfect, so joyous, it's worth watching just to hear it aloud. Alas, "Together, Wherever We Go" was cut before the release, and the score's only blight, "Little Lamb," was left in to give Wood a big moment while we're waiting for the flesh. She's dubbed of course, and although, as we said, we love Roz, she lied that she did all her own singing--they spliced her voice in with the pipes of Lisa Kirk. The effect is brisk without carrying much conviction, although Russell's conviction in the finale is thoroughly satisfactory. Watch anyway.