The Wanderer, having its world premiere at Paper Mill Playhouse, is yet one more jukebox bio-musical, in this case celebrating the music and a small portion of the life of singer-songwriter Dion DiMucci, the man Bruce Springsteen once called the link between Frank Sinatra and Rock & Roll. Like so many shows of this genre, it’s bland and unimaginative, and at nearly three hours, too long.
Before considering all the ways the show, under Kenneth Ferrone’s direction, is lacking, I’ll mention what works. The cast members are good, and that’s always important. To single out two, Mike Wartella, as Dion, offers a high-energy performance and Christy Altomare gives a lovely voiced turn as his girlfriend/wife, Susan.
Broadway veteran Beowulf Boritt’s large revolving sets move easily to create Dion’s world, focusing mostly on his Bronx street surrounded by tenement buildings and a Catholic Church. Sarah Laux nicely creates the clothes of the era, 1958 to 1968.
Now, the problems, the greatest of which is Sarah O’Gleby’s choreography. The show’s press release describes The Wanderer as Broadway-bound. I don’t know if that’s wishful thinking or they really have the money to transfer (it’s “produced in cooperation with Dion DiMucci”) but if that happens the first thing the producers should do is replace O’Gleby. Her choreography is student-level, at best.
Next, book writer Charles Messina needs to make major cuts and rewrites. He should eliminate the two kitchen scenes with Dion’s parents (Joli Tribuzio) and Johnny Tammaro). They are stereotypical interfering working class parents who slow down an already too long show. Then he can go through the script and deleted all the cliches, the worst of which is on the order of “love the addict, hate the addiction.” I nearly groaned out loud.
In addition to the verbal cliches are the character cliches. Dion has a devil on one shoulder, his friend Johnny (Joey McMcIntyre), who pushes drugs on him, and an angel on the other, his late middle-aged neighbor Willie (Kingsley Leggs) who preaches to him about not serving two gods and that he’s “got to be right with the man upstairs.”
Messina also needs to add more conflict to the first act. Aside from some disagreements with his father and manager, Bob (Jeffrey Schecter), about the music he should be signing, Dion makes a meteoric rise to the top, with one hit record after another, starting with “A Teenager in Love.” He does this at first with three friends from the neighborhood (Stephen Cerf, Billy Finn and Jess LeProtto). As they develop their sound out in the street and call themselves Dion and the Belmonts, after their Bronx neighborhood, you will think of Jersey Boys. It is the same scenario.
The perfect opportunity for Messina to introduce conflict is when Dion decides to go out on this own. He should show Dion with some inner-tension over this decision and some justifiable anger from the Belmonts, but instead they just disappear and Dion gets a hit going solo with “The Wanderer.”
He also gets a call from Buddy Holly (Finn) asking Dion to tour with him, the Big Bopper (Nerf) and Ritchie Valens (Miguel Jarquin-Moreland). This gives us the only exciting number in Act One as the artists jam onstage, singing their signature hits — “All of My Love” (Holly), “Chantilly Lace” (Bopper) and ending in Valens’ rousing “La Bamba,” sung by all.
That glory is short-lived for all of them as Holly, tired of traveling in the group’s unheated bus, hires a private plane to take them to their next stop. On a coin toss Dion wins one of the three seats but gives it up after learning it cost $36, what his parents pay for a month’s rent. Valens takes his place. Shortly after, a radio announces the plane had crashed in snowy weather and all were killed.
Act Two opens with Dion’s survivor guilt sending him deeper and deeper into his heroin addiction until we see him on his knees on the floor of the church calling out, “Dear God . . . God . . . Are you listenin’”, vowing never to touch another drug. His priest (Joe Barbara) appears, telling him, “You’ve come to the right place,” followed by a string of platitudes.
The schmaltz continues in the next scene, with Dion sitting in a semi-circle at an AA meeting where the other members sing “Oh, Sweet Surrender” to him. Then, to get in one last cliche, Dion and Susan are backstage at “The Smothers Brothers” show where Dion is booked to sing his latest song, “Abraham, Martin and John.” He’s afraid he can’t do it because he’s never performed sober. But Susan puts his hand on her stomach and says, “We’ll be back here waiting for you.”
I really, really don’t think this show is going to Broadway any time soon. Too bad. The music is good. Dion deserves a better show.
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