I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high and life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted.

-- Fantine in "I Dreamed a Dream" from "Les Misérabels"


I, too, have dreamed a dream -- that "Les Misérables" ended just into the second act. Look, "Les Miz" probably is my favorite musical -- I've certainly seen it several more times than any other -- but I've come to realize just how little I care about Act II.

And, with Tuesday's opening-night performance of the touring production doing a week of show at PlayhouseSquare's Palace Theatre, I decided to live my dream. I sat relatively riveted during Act I, as the company belted out such classics as "At the End of the Day," Master of the House," "Stars" "One Day More" and, of course, the aforementioned emotional song by Fantine. And because what is perhaps my favorite number in the show, "On My Own," opens the second act, I stayed through intermission.

And then I fled in the night like Jean Valjean.

Shameful, you say? A true fan would never do that?

Maybe, but consider my case:

-- Again, I've seen it, several times over the last 15 years, including the recent film that is up for the best picture Academy Award.

-- I am not writing the review of this production for The News-Herald and www.News-Herald.com, instead leaving that duty in the very capable hands of correspondent Bob Abelman, who does a fantastic job reviewing theater for us.

-- I was a little under the weather and very tired.

By the time the first act ended -- about 9 p.m. -- I was dreaming a dream about my couch. And yet I stayed for "One My Own," which has to say something. And boy was it worth staying for.

I was worried right before the show started when it was announced that one of the understudies for the role of Eponine, Erin Clemons, would be performing the role. I really love that song, and I am often a little disappointed by performers' interpretations of it, but bravo, Ms. Clemons. Well done. She knocked it out of the proverbial park.

In fact, if you're also maybe a little "Les Miz"ed out at this point, this production may still be worth seeing simply for the talent on stage.

With the movie still fresh in my mind, it's hard not to compare some of the performances. While I'll still take the key female performers in the film -- Anne Hathaway (Fantine) and Amanda Seyfriend (Cosette) over their respective counterparts, Genevieve LeClerc and Lauren Wiley, the latter pair was just fine. On the other hand, I thought Peter Lockyer made a better Valjean than Hugh Jackman and Andrew Varela a better Javert than Russel Crowe. In a show such as "Les Miz," it all comes down to the singing, and this pair of fellas really delivered, especially Varela. His rendition of Javert's signature number, "Stars," just about blew the roof off the place.

 Andrew Varela performs a fantastic rendition of Javert's "Stars."

And if you've seen the movie but not a stage production, I strongly encourage you to head downtown to see this show. It's interesting to see how the two are similar and different. The key difference, I think, is the way the songs are sung. For the movie, director Tom Hooper ("The King's Speech") wanted more dramatic, less sing-songy renditions of the songs. It's best paid off with "I Dreamed a Dream," which alone could earn Hathaway the best supporting actress Oscar. (As lovely as it is, LeClerc's just seemed inconsequential by comparison.) On the other hand, it's nice to hear these songs really SUNG again. Truly, this is the better show for your ears.

 "Master of the House," led by Thénardier (Timothy Gulan, top center) and his wife (Shawna M. Hamic, front right, was a real crowd-pleaser Tuesday night, as the catchy and funny number tends to be.

The eyes are another matter. This scaled-down production of "Les Miz" -- first in Cleveland two years ago -- can't hold a candle to previous, more elaborately staged productions or to the film. The staging is well done, of course, but it just all seems too small for the show. (For years, "Les Miz" was performed on the much larger stage of PlayhouseSquare's State Theatre, and recently the touring production of "Priscilla Queen of the Desert" had to be moved from the Palace to the State because it just wouldn't fit on the former's stage.)

With apologies to folks in set design, though, the performances are what matter most, and they are topnotch.

And apologies to anyone offended by my early exit, and hopefully counted among them are none of my generous hosts from PlayhouseSquare. I promise to stay for all of "Sister Act," a musical opening at the Palace March 5.

UPDATE: Abelman's glowing review is live. Check it out. 

-- Mark Meszoros | Entertainment@News-Herald.com | @nhfeatures

Truth be told, I'm typically not all that interested in dance shows.

Don't get me wrong. Professional dancers and choreographers are tremendously talented people, and there's plenty to love about the world of dance. But, as someone who's worried about falling down when he tries to walk and chew gum, I don't relate to that graceful world all that much.

Yet, as someone who greatly appreciates music and high-quality audio, I was very interested in a specific aspect of "Come Fly Away," the latest entry in the current Broadway Series at PlayhouseSquare in Cleveland. One of the many shows choreographed by the renowned Twyla Tharp, "Come Fly Away" is built around a collection of songs recorded by the late Frank Sinatra.



However, unlike Tharp's "Movin' Out" -- built around the songs of Billy Joel -- a vocalist wasn't cast to perform the songs. Instead, "Come Fly Away" cast Sinatra's himself -- or at least recorded performances by him -- and combines them with a live big band on stage.

How would this work? Would it sound good. Would it feel natural? (Pretty well, mostly and sort of are the respective answers.)

Sitting about seven rows back on Tuesday's opening-night performance, Sinatra's voice and the band backing it did not sound like a cohesive whole. The sound of the band sounded like it came, from, well the band. Sinatra's vocals, on the other hand, sounded like they came from above. Perhaps it was meant to sound as if he is singing from heaven, but it's a bit odd. (It should be noted, though, that when I moved to the back of the Palace Theatre at the show's end, the sound was more unified, so maybe good seats come at more than one kind of a price.)

I'm leaving the actual News-Herald review of "Come Fly Away" to Bob Abelman, a regular contributor of well-written, thought-provoking theater reviews, but I will say the show did boast lovely and sensual -- even downright sexy -- dance numbers, and it was great to hear the Chairman of the Board's voice for an hour and 15 minutes. ("Come Fly Away" is a short show with no intermission, which may help you drag someone who isn't a fan of dance down to the theater. Tuesday's show started a little after 7:30, and I was home in Willoughby before 9:30.)

Courtesy of PlayhouseSquare

Anthony Burrell and Ashley Blair perform 

one of the sexy numbers in "Come Fly Away."

There is not one line of dialogue in "Come Fly Away," so all the communication comes via Tharp's choreography and Sinatra's music. And while Sinatra may not have sounded as if he was standing with the big band, he sounded great singing truncated versions of "That's Life," "My Way" and scads of other tunes.

So start spreadin' the news: Sinatra's in town ... sort of.

-- Mark Meszoros | Entertainment@News-Herald.com | @nhfeatures

When I blogged about "Work of Art" yesterday, I neglected to mention that one of our area's own is on the show.

Sarah Kabot, a professor at the Cleveland Institute of Art and a Cleveland Heights resident, is one of 14 competing to be the next great artist. Cleveland Heights Patch interviewed Sarah Kabot and got some insight on the artist, the casting process for the show and taping the first episode.

"Work of Art" airs at 9 tonight on Bravo.


-- Cheryl Sadler | CSadler@News-Herald.com | @nhcheryl

Sure, the song says “Everybody must get stoned,” but after seeing the great Bob Dylan Saturday night at Jacob’s Pavilion at Nautica in Cleveland, the phrase running through my mind is “Everybody must get old.”

Don’t get it twisted – I love Dylan. After all, the dude is 70 and still rocking out. And he did rock Saturday night – just not as long as I remember him rocking at previous shows.

I’m guessing that was my seventh time seeing one of the greatest songwriters of the the 20^th century. Maybe it was six, maybe it was eight, but you get the idea: I’m no stranger to Dylan concerts.

If you’ve seen Dylan over the last 15 years or so, you know what you’re going to get. Dylan drags his now-gravelly voice through a selection of tunes from his vast discography, reinventing them along the way. This is not a man who sings songs they way they sound on his record. Accept this, and you’re likely to enjoy them.

It helps that Dylan always has a topnotch backup band. The evolving collection of musicians always brings a nice rock crunch to his often folkie repertoire.

Saturday night, Bob Dylan and His Band rock and rolled through a set that began with “Rainy Day Women No. 12 & 35” (“Everybody must get stoned”) and soon gave us “Tangled Up in Blue” and “Missisippi” – one of his best songs of the last decade – before steamrolling through “Highway 61 Revisited,” “Like a Rolling Stone” and “All Along the Watchtower.”

It was all good, but it was over pretty fast. But hey, when I’m 70 I’m guessing I’ll be taking it lot easier than Dylan.

My only real complaint with the show was its strict anti-photography policy. Many artists frown on fans taking video with their smartphones, but they’re generally fine with still photography. Not Dylan. His people had the Nautica staff in crackdown mode. When I merely had my phone in my hand, I was told by one very nice gentleman that they didn’t even want people having their cell phones out. Either Dylan makes a lot of cash selling his image or this is one cat who really doesn’t like how he looks in photos.

It’s too bad. I like taking concert photos with my iPhone 4, posting a couple on social media sites and saving the rest for the memories. But, to quote The Rolling Stones, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”

I hope to see Dylan again, but who knows?

So no photos? Fine.

Fairly short set? Cool.

I still got one more night in the presence of an American icon and a musical genius.

-- Mark Meszoros

I blogged on The Book Club on reading about the Cleveland underworld in advance of seeing "Kill the Irishman" over the weekend. I knew that reading "Kill the Irishman," the book on which the movie is based, would sort of ruin the movie for me because it's not a true account of the story of Cleveland mobster Danny Greene's rise and demise. The movie is based on the true story that Rick Porrello wrote in his book, but the film definitely took some liberties in retelling the story of the fall of the Cleveland mafia.

The rest of this blog post will certainly contain spoilers, so don't read on if you don't want to be spoiled before seeing the movie (or reading the book).

I liked the movie, but (of course) I liked the book better. What confused me most about the book was the sheer amount of people involved because I had trouble keeping everyone straight. The movie simplifies that for you, by combining several characters into one, on more than one occasion.

The movie also skips a lot of the details, like the woman who leaked the list of FBI informants, exposing Greene's double life. Several of the slayings were left out as well, but the sort of montage of deaths as the contention between Greene and the mafia heated up really illustrated the amount of blood that was spilled and how much killing both sides were willing to do.

My biggest issue with the movie was the final scene with Greene. He died in Lyndhurst, but the scene looks like it was shot downtown. Before the bomb goes off, a group of kids rides up on bicycles, asking if he really is Danny Greene, telling him they want to be like him when they get older. He gives his Celtic necklace to one of the boys. I found the whole interaction to be incredibly awkward, and I couldn't figure out why the scene played out as it did. Was the director trying to show the human side of Greene before he was killed? Maybe it didn't bother the people in the audience who didn't read the book, but I was annoyed because it was delaying the inevitable. And it didn't happen. (And, we saw Greene's humanity earlier, 

One aspect of the movie that I loved was real news footage that was included throughout. After Greene's Collinwood home was bombed, the movie used part of a newscast to show the real destruction that occurred. The movie set of the bombed home did not look like the news footage, but that didn't bother me too much because it was just neat to get a few glimpses of what really happened.

I wasn't around in the 1970s to witness the chaos of the bombings in Cleveland, so it was interesting to get a real feel for what it was like (sometimes, the movies paint better pictures than the books). The characters and setting gave the movie a really gritty feel, and I loved the shots of the Cleveland skyline pre-Key Tower and other notable landmarks.

Correspondent Mark Koestner interviewed author Porrello, so check back to News-Herald.com/Life to read what he had to say about the Cleveland mafia, Greene, his book and the movie.


-- Cheryl Sadler | CSadler@News-Herald.com | @nhcheryl