The Cher Show

     Another jukebox musical on Broadway.  Ho-hum, I normally would have thought.  I had higher hopes for this latest one, though, because of its subject matter, and I was not disappointed.  I was involved and entertained for the entire two and a half hours of The Cher Show at the Neil Simon Theatre. 

     Three actresses portray Cher at various stages of her life and all are excellent.  Stephanie J. Block plays the mature Cher, referred to in the program as Star; Teal Wicks is Lady, the middle years Cher, and Micaela Diamond is Babe, who begins Cher’s story, playing her as a first grader and on into her teens when she meets Sonny Bono (Jarrod Spector).  

     Jason Moore expertly directs the mingling of the three Chers, sometimes bringing two onto the sidelines to comment on or advise the third, or he has all three sing together.  Mostly, though, he lets each develop Cher at the various stages of her life.

     Book writer Rick Elice is a good storyteller, offering a script that moves quickly yet takes the time to develop the singer’s remarkable rise to fame.  What he leaves out, though, is the dark side of her character, whatever it is.  We all have a shadow side but the only character flaw this Cher seems to have is poor judgment.  (More about that later.)

     I like the way the actresses don’t try to imitate their real life subject, although Block sounds quite a lot like Cher in her speaking parts as well as in her vocals.  Trying to present Rich Little-like impersonations would have been tacky.  And they weren’t needed.  When I left the theatre I felt I had spent an evening with Cher.

     The songs are among my favorites from my youth, starting with the 1960s hits, the most beloved of which is probably “I Got You Babe,” right on through to Cher’s hit after hit as a solo recording artist — “Believe,” “If I Could Turn Back Time,” “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves,” “Strong Enough.”

     We get all those great songs plus a compelling life story, starting with that little 6-year-old Cherilyn Sarkisian, wearing old shoes kept on with rubber bands, who doesn’t want to go to school because the other children make fun of her dark coloring.  The taunt she hates the most is half-breed, which as we know she later spun into a chart-topping song.  She never knew her father, whom her pretty blond mother, Georgia (Emily Skinner), describes as Armenian.  But she is lucky in that her mother encourages her and promises that one day she will be somebody important.

     Young Cher discovers the key to this prediction when her mother and the beloved stepfather, John (Matthew Hydzik), who has come into her life — briefly — take her to see “Cinderella” at Grauman’s Chinese Theater.  She comes out singing every song, word-for-word after only that one hearing, and declares she wants to be a singer.   Her parents stage a mock ceremony on the Hollywood Walk of Fame where she can add her handprints and signature to the greats of showbiz.  She signs her name only as Cher, and thus the one-name diva is born.

     Well, not quite then.  It takes meeting Sonny on the Sunset Strip when she is 16 and he is 27.  He finds her work as a back-up singer on such early 60s hits as “Da Doo Ron Ron.”  That doesn’t last long because Cher’s talent won’t let her stay in the background.  During recording sessions she sings as if she’s the star.  Sonny hears and determines to make her one.  Calling themselves Sonny and Cher, they head for London because, as Sonny says, to make it in America you have to come from England.

     A confident Sonny and a very shy Cher appear on “Top of the Pops,” a British TV talent show singing “I Got You Babe” and are an overnight sensation.  After a couple of years of success across the pond, they return to America where they are beloved, selling 50 million records.  Unfortunately, as Cher’s mother says, they spend as if they have $50 million. They are flat broke just as hard rock comes to prominence and pushes their sweet, youthful music off the charts.

     Sonny promises Cher that in two years they’ll be back to top.  He also finally proposes.  His way of fulfilling his promise is to turn them into a comedy act, but first he has to work hard to convince Cher to give it a go.  

     Finally she says she’ll try comedy if he’ll try singing.  And that’s her first great one-liner in what would become their shtick — Sonny being the affable goofball and Cher ribbing him with cutting putdowns.

     They develop a small act, take it to Vegas where they’re a hit and soon they’re headlining on the Strip.  The 1970s hit “The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour” follows.  Money rolls in, but Sonny has turned into a tyrant.  The TV show isn’t enough for him.  He has Cher doing two shows on Saturday and two on Sunday in Las Vegas.  

     “I know you never got to be a teenager, but you can’t be one now,” he snarls when she protests.  “You’ve got a job to do, so do it."

     Cher’s exhausted, and longing to spend more time with their child, who in the Broadway musical is called Chaz and is referred to in the genderless “my child.”  

     As anyone old enough to have watched “The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour” knows, their only child, Chastity, used to appear with them from time to time when she was a toddler.  Sonny held her while he and Cher sang, then the three of them would walk off holding hands, exiting through those orange panels covered with the images of hippie Sonny and Cher in bubbles (sets by Christine Jones and Brett J. Banakis).  

     I loved when Chastity was on, but I felt uneasy for her.  I didn’t know the term exploited, but that’s the feeling I had because the child usually looked sad and a bit frightened.  I also wondered if she’d grow up one day to hate her parents for naming her Chastity.  I don’t know if she hated them, but as an adult she not only changed her name, she transitioned her gender as well and now goes by Chaz.  Probably because Cher is one of the producers, there’s no cute little blond girl in the musical, just an unseen Chaz.  And there’s no mention that in real life Cher had a great deal of trouble accepting this transition. 

     The strain of all that work and Sonny’s domineering control push Cher to the point of wanting a divorce, but she’s afraid their fans will never forgive her for walking out on the partnership.  She turns to Lucille Ball (Skinner) for advice because Lucy knows a thing or two about working on a popular TV show with a mean, manipulative husband.  Lucy tells her to dumped the creep and go solo.  Star Cher tells us “my hand to God” this conversation really took place.

     When Cher files for divorce she learns that Cher Enterprises is owned 95 percent by Sonny and 5 percent by their lawyer.  She has nothing from all those years of working.  See what I mean about poor judgment?  She never thought to check the finances.

     Bouncing back temporarily with “The Cher Show” on TV, she falls for one of her guests, the rocker Gregg Allman (Hydzik), a druggie who more often than not is high.  When Cher finds out she’s pregnant, she marries him.  Poor judgment again.  Sonny hates the guy and calls him Rapunzel, a reference to Gregg’s long blond hair.

     When “The Cher Show” fails, Sonny and Cher try to resurrect their old show — as a threesome with Gregg.  This example of poor judgment has their show canceled in half a season.  Her second marriage is over quickly too, ended after three years and one child, Elijah Blue. 

     But Cher has other worlds to conquer.  It’s on to Hollywood where she earns an Oscar nomination for her first role, in “Silkwood” with Meryl Streep.  She goes on to win one of those statuettes for “Moonstruck.”  If her life were a fictional musical I doubt anyone would find it credible.

     Aside from all of her undeniable talent, Cher is also known for something else over-the-top — her clothes, all those colorful and exotic creations made for her by designer Bob Mackie (Michael Berresse), who also designed the musical’s costumes.  In this I was disappointed.  I love lots of bold colors and her clothes on the TV show were awash in them, but on Broadway the Chers wear mostly black.  Exotic, yes, but I missed the color.  This was a major letdown for me.

     The dances, choreographed by Christopher Gattelli, were also a weak spot.  For the most part they seemed unconnected to the show and looked more like a challenging aerobics class. 

     Overall, though, the musical is an engaging bio-musical of a woman who has been part of my consciousness for most of my life.  Other than eating dinner together, watching “The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour” was the only thing we did as a family.  I have no memory of how that came about.  My father never watched TV and my mother only followed “Perry Mason” and “The Alfred Hitchcock Hour.”  I used to fall asleep hearing those themes.  During the summer I was out playing with the neighborhood children until after dark so I wasn’t much of a TV watcher either.  For some reason, though, the three of us sat down together every week to watch Sonny and Cher.  A nice memory.  Glad the Broadway show didn’t spoil it.

Jarrod Spector and Teal Wicks in photo by Joan Marcus