Theater in Review: How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying (Al Hirschfield Theatre)

	Rose Hemingway. Photo: Ari Mintz

Is anyone having more fun on any Broadway stage than Daniel Radcliffe? Cast as J. Pierpont Finch, the ultimate corporate climber, in the new revival of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying/ he's a pint-sized ball of fire, a kid let loose in a toy store, giving a running, jumping, singing, dancing performance that seemingly galvanizes everyone around him. This is not the most technically accomplished work you will ever see; he rushes his lines at times, and his singing voice is adequate, if only just. But he captures his character's flattering, double-dealing ways, he knows his way around a wisecrack, and when the time comes for him to lead the company in a big dance number, he does it with the assurance of General Patton assembling his troops. His joy at starring in a big Broadway musical is contagious and it's simply impossible to resist.

Then again, casting is one of the real strengths of Rob Ashford's superior production. He has assembled a company of comedians who know that underplaying is the key to unlocking the humor in the libretto (by Abe Burrows Willie Gilber and Jack Weinstock), a sustained satire of '60s-era corporate culture; it's the world of Mad Men played for hilarity rather than existential gloom. (In many respects, the humor isn't dated at all; from bitter past experience, I can tell you that large corporations are still filled with sycophantic, backstabbing, lecherous cowards - and that's the good news.)

Radcliffe's most consistent partner in crime is John Larroquette as J. B. Biggley, president of World Wide Wickets and a man of vision and leadership -- when he isn't skirt-chasing, belting out puerile college fight songs, or secretly knitting up a storm. His comic technique honed by years of television sitcoms, Larroquette barely breathes some of his laugh lines, thereby ensuring that they detonate to maximum effect. (Even when handed a weakish gag, he makes it snap to attention. For example, Biggley tells his mistress that if she leaves him, he won't know what to do with himself. She points out that, after all, he could go home. "I can't do that; I'm married," he replies, earning a laugh from a joke that predates vaudeville itself.) Also, Larroquette appears to be almost exactly twice the height of Radcliffe; when they stand next to each other, it's a sight gag in itself. And when they launch into "Grand Old Ivy," the football anthem to end them all, cheering on their favorite team, the Chipmunks, the effect is blissfully ludicrous.

Three other sturdy comic performances help make this How to Succeed one to remember. First among them is Tammy Blanchard as Hedy La Rue, Biggley's Bronx bombshell of a mistress. Recently sprung from a job as a hat-check girl at the Copa, she steps into the secretarial pool like it's the runway at Minsky's, eyeing the room for every available male. She also speaks in a penetrating whine that drags every sentiment down to the ground-floor level. (When Biggley confides to her that he is secretly very emotional, she sweetly responds, "God damn it, so am I!") Her Act II appearance as the "treasure girl," in an ill-advised television game show cooked up by Finch, is a real showstopper. As Bud Frump, Biggley's nephew and the company's chief schemer, Christopher J. Hanke once again demonstrates his singular comic style, combining a deadpan vocal manner with wild, out-of-left-field physical gestures that suggest that, all appearances to the contrary, he is in the middle of a nervous collapse. As Rosemary, who dreams of becoming Finch's helpmate and doormat, the newcomer Rose Hemingway plays the role for real, correctly understanding that laughter will come if she doesn't comment on the role; she also sings like a dream, delivering an ideal version of "Happy to Keep His Dinner Warm," that ode to the life of the corporate spouse.

Additional solid support is provided by Rob Bartlett, double-cast as a lifelong drone in the mail room and the vaguely mobbed-up chairman of the board. In the first role, he partners with Radcliffe in an amusingly staged version of "The Company Way;" in the latter he ogles Hedy and delivers his gags with gusto. Mary Faber adds to the fun as Rosemary's wisecracking best friend, as doEllen Harvey as Biggley's tough-as-nails secretary and Michael Park as an executive who just wants to stay out trouble.

Ashford's staging is well-paced, never stopping to linger on a gag too long. You'll also find some of his wittiest choreography here, whether it's the chorus quietly expiring from caffeine addiction in "Coffee Break" to the idiotic chipmunk gestures of "Grand Old Ivy" to the platoon of tap-dancing secretaries, marshaled to urge Rosemary to stand by her man, in "Cinderella Darling." His staging of "The Brotherhood of Man," in which Finch, in the soup, worms his way out of trouble with a rousing anthem about exactly nothing, is packed with amusing references, up to and including a bit of classical ballet.

Derek McLane's two-level setting is a kind of Populuxe honeycomb, which provides plenty of room for the company to kick up its collective heels in the bigger numbers. As lit by Howell Binkley, using an armada of LED units, the set is capable of rapid-fire color transformation, pacing the musical numbers and adding a great deal of visual variety throughout. Catherine Zuber's costumes are a pleasing pastel-tinged tribute to Kennedy-era chic, right down to Rosemary's pink pillbox hat. (The designer has one notable misfire, in the number "Paris Original," which features the entire secretarial pool showing up at an office party in the same dress. The outfit used here is so hideous that the ladies appear to have lost their minds.) Jon Weston's sound design achieves a nearly ideal balance of voices and orchestra.

Then again, balance is the key to this How to Succeed. Everyone involved seems to have a sense of the show's worth, and, confident in the book and Frank Loesser's heavenly score -- they're willing to let the show unfold without straining for laughs or pressing for show stopping applause. Those things are already there, and thanks to Radcliffe's buoyant leadership and the company's light touch, we're allowed to discover them for ourselves.. --David Barbour