On Trash Musicals
On Monday, January 29, 2018, at 1:45 pm, I sat down in seat M28a at the theater in The Grove and saw The Greatest Showman. (Thank god I archived the email receipt.) Movie wise, it’s what I imagine being jumped into a gang feels like, only instead of muscle bound thugs beating my ass, it’s loud musical theater kids. I left thinking that this was a flash in the pan kind of thing, and I’d never have to hear about The Greatest Showman ever again. It is now March 10, 2021, 5:18 pm, and The Greatest Showman soundtrack is the fifteenth highest selling album on iTunes.
I am haunted by the success of this movie. Sometimes I can go a few days without thinking about it. But then someone says the word “musical” or I watch a documentary about war atrocities and I’m right back in that theater, burrowing into my seat from the violent gales of cringe.
I needed to understand this movie. I needed to understand trash musicals in general. Why do people love some trash musicals and hate others? How do some become cultural phenomenons while others are completely forgotten? So in an effort to understand bad musicals, I watched nine of them!
Why bother with this in general? Well… it’s quarantine. Who gives a shit about anything anymore?
What is a trash musical?
Of course, there’s a certain amount of subjectivity here. Some people have a different gauge of what “trash” means, and some would say that musicals are, by definition, trash. Those people, however, are fuckbois.
The real definition of “trash musical” is the porn cliché. You know it when you see it. But I had two specific kinds of movie in mind when I went down this rabbit hole:
1. Middlebrow high energy crowd pleaser musicals with bright color palettes and songs designed for radio play.
2. Musicals that failed to earn the prestige they were clearly aiming for.
So here are the movies:
Rock of Ages
Hairspray (2007)
Nine
Jersey Boys
Sing
Idlewild
Across the Universe
Burlesque
The Prom
Why nine? Because of the movie Nine of course! Kidding. It’s because I was too lazy to do my homework, and after I watched Jersey Boys, I concluded that it’s not technically a musical and thus I watched one more to compensate. (That said, we’re going to talk about Jersey Boys anyway.)
Also, for aesthetic reasons, I went with musicals released from the year 2000 on up. I can’t quite put my finger on why, but to me, there’s a difference between a trashy musical from the ‘50s and one from 2005. Also, I’m not counting Disney, Disney Channel original movies, VOD stuff, or little known musicals. This is an article about movie musicals that swung for the fences and missed, and Disney is already the standard, even if the live action remakes of Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin are both shit.
So what can we learn from these movies?
The Success of Certain Musicals Still Eludes Me and This Whole Experiment Was a Failure.
Nothing, apparently!
One of the earliest thoughts I had at the beginning of this experiment was that all jukebox musicals are failures, be it by box office or critical reception or cultural memory. After all, six of the movies on this list are jukebox musicals, and they’re all, to put it mildly, not universally loved. (Tom Cruise did an ‘80s glam metal jukebox musical and we don’t talk about that enough.) However, if all jukebox musicals are trash, you’d never have heard of Moulin Rouge! and your drunk aunt wouldn’t deafen you with praise of Mamma Mia!.
I thought audiences would find overly saccharine musicals condescending, as if they were screaming, “Hey Johnny and Jane Popcorn, you can’t handle conflict, so here’s a bunch of glittery songs and go fuck yourself.” And indeed, nobody seems to like The Prom. However, if that were true, The Greatest Showman wouldn’t have become the behemoth that it is and Burlesque wouldn’t have sunken from our cultural memory like a stone.
Maybe the impulse is to go serious. After all, there was a lot of praise and hubbub over La La Land before the backlash started. (I’d like to return to that backlash one day.) But then there are also cases like Nine and Jersey Boys and, to a certain extent, The Prom. (The Prom’s a weird case where it can be categorized in just about any kind of musical you need an example of to write an article about bad musicals.)
When it comes to the success or failure of musicals, if you can think of a point and you can think of an example of that point, you will immediately be met with multiple movies that contradict your point. There are no rules.
Of course, there are reasons for this. Dozens even. I think a lot rests on timing, for example. My guess as to why The Greatest Showman got as big as it did, for example, is that Trump was president and everyone want to kill themselves. Even more obviously, there’s also the matter of the individual movies themselves. I may hate The Greatest Showman, but that doesn’t mean everyone else did, and most people dislike the majority of the movies on my watchlist.
However, I was talking with someone on a Discord I’m a member of who brought up an important point: Fangirls. (Note: The person who made this comment identifies as female. This is not a judgement on gender.)
What this person meant wasn’t that fan girls are the target audience so much as the lots of musicals don’t cater to the kinds of people who like musicals. In other words, stereotypically speaking, if you make a Venn diagram of people who like musicals and glam metal fans, you’d have two separate circles, hence the failure of Rock of Ages. Make one for the many aspects of The Greatest Showman, however, (Zendaya, misfit men in need of fixing, and so on) and you have some very wealthy producers who still get residuals from soundtrack sales.
There aren’t enough musicals that I can argue this hypothesis particularly well. But one point remains. Musicals are chaos and I don’t understand them.
Bad Prestige Musicals Pervert Old Art Because They’re Either Ashamed Of Themselves or Not Ashamed Enough
Jersey Boys is an adaption of a stage musical of the same name. Though I admit that I have not seen the original show and barely did any research, at a glance, it seems like Jersey Boys sheds itself of the sensibility of a stage musical and replaces it with the Buffalo Bill-esque flesh suit of a biopic. As a result, it takes trash and pretends that it isn’t trash, and thus it shines a greater spotlight on the trashiness of the original trash. (Full disclosure: I’m assuming the stage show is trash because I have a deep dislike of Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons.)
Nine is a musical adaption of Fellini’s 8 1/2. It’s a movie that takes a nuanced look at the inner-workings and emotional blindspots of an artist and intensifies and dries out these emotions with song and dance to the extent that it feels like 8 1/2 jerky. What was once a complex look at an imperfect filmmaker becomes a prolonged dirge about a middle-aged man baby. (Though I should note that it’s been many years since I’ve seen 8 1/2 and it’s entirely possible that I’d find Guido Anselmi as insufferable in the original work as his new form is in Nine. I was always more of a La Dolce Vita guy anyway.)
Across the Universe did this with the “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” by The Beatles:
On a surface level, the only things these movies have in common is that they are perversions of works from the past, in these cases, a famous broadway show, a vastly influential Italian movie, and the discography of The Beatles. (I was going to say “great works,” but Jersey Boys.) If we wanted to stop there, we could, because most of these examples are embarrassing enough by themselves.
But if we dig deeper, there are more existential implications.
One thing that a bunch of the more prestige-y musicals have in common is a worship of artists, fictional or not, who are unworthy of any kind of praise. On a personal level, there’s Frankie Valli, but even if you love The Four Seasons, there are black artists who have much more interesting stories and made better music. When it comes to fictional artists, we have Guido Contini from Nine and Jude from Across the Universe. The former is a caricature of a late sixties Italian filmmaker who treats all the women in his life like shit, and the latter is an artist so self-involved and featherweight that he can’t even take a strong stance against the Vietnam War unless a cop is harming his girlfriend.
All three of these movies treat these artists like royalty, and no matter how you feel about their respective art, their character would make anyone with half a brain shudder. And then they have them all sing and dance while pressing the audience to appreciate their skill and what they bring to the world by the virtue of their art, or the mere fact that these people chose to be artists.
In an indirect way, I think part of the subtext of all bad musicals is, essentially, "See, musicals are great!" And I think many of them take that insecurity and project it onto artists we’re supposed to take seriously. “This isn’t a typical musical.” These movies argue. “See, the color palette is muted. The content is more ‘serious.’ It’s more realistic. More down to earth.”
Jersey Boys and Nine feel like they’re ashamed to be musicals. Jersey Boys is an adaptation of a stage musical with all the musical elements stripped out because Clint is clearly sheepish about making a musical. Nine never breaks reality, and all the dimly lit musical performances take place in Guido’s head, mostly denying the audience of any scenes from reality with which to contrast the numbers. (A trick that worked quite well for Rob Marshall with Chicago.)
Across the Universe, on the other hand, loves being a musical way too much, to the point where all the set-up for the songs feel contrived and the numbers get so big it becomes ridiculous. And even then, it’s not a big smiley musical one thinks of when the word “musical” pops into their head.
In the end, bad prestige musicals reek of insecurity. So they get you to take them seriously by incorporating art or people from the past that has some sort of meaning and they either get rid of all the theatricality or go so far in the other direction that they can’t find a middle ground. Of course, not all prestige musicals are bad. But it seems like they all come out of the gate stumbling.
Jukebox Musicals Are Trash No Matter What
I’m about to talk about ‘80s glam metal and Rock of Ages, two things that I deeply hate. When I’m done with this section, it may seem like I like this kind of music or this movie. I do not. Let’s be clear.
Anyway, Joan Jett & The Blackheart’s cover of “I Love Rock ’N Roll.” A song that I personally find corny and cloying, though I’ll admit that I like Joan’s vocal ability to sound the most rock ‘n roll at all times.
“I Love Rock ’N Roll” is a song about Joan meeting a seventeen year old boy she wants to fuck. (It’s never made clear if the song is being sung from the perspective of a fellow teenager or not, but for the sake of not having to point out the obvious ickiness, let’s assume that it is. Though to not let her, or the weird rock fetishization of seventeen year olds in general, off the hook, she would’ve been in her early twenties when the song was recorded and released.) She sees him dancing by the jukebox, she approaches, they strike up a conversation, and they go off to have sex. The social lubricant, in this case, isn’t alcohol, but rock music, and its ability to tap into both characters’ desires and free them of their inhibitions.
It’s also, I’d argue, a statement about gender and rock music. Rock music was, and probably still is, very much a male controlled space. Which is to say nothing of the then culturally dominant glam metal, where the artists themselves might as well have been giant walking penises. Here, then, is Joan Jett, a woman stepping out into this testosterone nightmare space and declaring that she loves rock ’n roll. She isn’t being welcomed into the genre. She’s welcoming herself.
In Rock of Ages, the song is sung by Alec Baldwin and Russell Brand. They sing the song in order to celebrate the booking of Stacee Jaxx, played by Tom Cruise, at their club on the Sunset Strip. They’re celebrating because Stacee Jaxx is the most famous rockstar on the planet in this universe, and his show alone will apparently save their club from financial ruin. The movie cuts back and forth between Alec and Russell singing “I Love Rock ’N Roll” with a different character singing “Juke Box Hero” by Foreigner, presumably because they both feature lyrics about jukeboxes. Which is spelled “jukebox” and not “juke box.” Fucking assholes.
Maybe it works for you and maybe it doesn’t. But Rock of Ages changes the meaning of the song and robs it of its intended subtext.
To be clear, change in this way isn’t “good” or “bad” as we’ve discussed before. But unlike hip hop sampling, the way jukebox musicals use previously existing songs isn’t a mode of self-expression or a statement or, in terms of the ‘80s, a necessity from a lack of resources. Rather, they take famous works and contrive reasons to fit them into a narrative. Again, there’s nothing wrong with doing this in and of itself. But changing a song’s context and its sound also changes its meaning. Even if you don’t change the songs that much.
Sing is pretty much an excuse to insert as much licensed music into one movie as possible. Some of these songs get used in the background. (Side note: When theater owner Buster Moon is unveiling the new water stage, the movie plays “Flashing Lights” by Kanye West, which… I don’t think the movie understands that song.) Some of these songs are performed in the hyperreal way in which people break out singing in musicals. Most of the performances, however, are normal on screen performances of songs. The movie centers around a singing competition, and most of the songs get sung in a normal concert like setting.
As the song selections themselves don’t have any narrative heft, not only are they interchangeable, but they draw attention to other aspects of themselves. Why this song? How is it performed? Just… why?
If you love the songs that are being performed, you’ll object to them being performed badly. If you hate the songs being performed, you’ll hate them even more. If you’re indifferent, then why do you need this?
So yeah, I don’t like jukebox musicals.
Self-Awareness is the Key to the Skeptic’s Heart
If I had to pick a favorite of all the musicals I’ve watched, it would easily be Hairspray.
Hairspray is far from perfect. It’s a movie about race and gender produced during the Bush administration, and some of its racial politics reflect its times almost too well. There’s a scene, for example, where a black character essentially gives lead character Tracy permission to appropriate black dance moves so she can be on television. (Which strikes me, at least, as a Bush era ass thing to do.) On top of this, director Adam Shankman (who also directed Rock of Ages) does everything possible to step on each and every joke and meaningful character beat.
However, there are moments in Hairspray when the satirical elements shine through. Hairspray, after all, is a musical designed to take the piss out of lily-white 1960s pop culture, including its musicals. It knows that breaking reality to sing songs is silly, but uses its jokey spirit to make a genuine point about a period in culture where black artists were continuously ignored and shut out.
I mention this because there are a lot of people who don’t like musicals, and given the tone of this article, you may assume that I’m one of them. I’ll admit that I’ve sounded grumpy, I’ll admit that there are musicals I deeply hate (don’t get me started on Rent), and I can’t think of that many movie musicals that I’d go to bat for. But I don’t think musicals are bad by definition. I think they can be great if given the opportunity.
That said, I will admit to being a skeptic, and if I had to take a guess as to why there’s a sizable number of people who don’t like them, it’s the sensibility. The broadness of all emotion. The suffocating sweetness. The neon vomit color palettes and the exhausting ceaselessness of the energy in the performances.
There’s a reason many people didn’t like the musical theater kids in high school. Most of those reasons aren’t justified. But you stroll into school at an ungodly hour of the morning and maybe, just maybe, the theater kids are a bit too much.
So how do you win over us grumps?
There’s a point to be made that you simply don’t bother. After all, musicals put numbers on the boards and in the box office, and The Greatest Showman and Hamilton became juggernauts. The easiest solution is to tell us to go fuck ourselves and rake in more cash and acclaim. (For the record, I’m very pro Hamilton.)
But let’s pretend that option’s off the table. What do you do?
In my opinion, do what Hairspray did, but with better politics and direction. Or, to put it shortly, let the skeptics know that you’re in on the joke. Don’t take yourself super seriously like a Nine or a Jersey Boys. Don’t blast us with glitter like a Sing or a The Prom. Find the middle ground. Acknowledge the broadness, then you can be as broad as you want.
With Hairspray, I felt invited. With most of the others, I felt violently alienated. At its worst, musical theater feels like a giant in-joke for people who like broadness. It was nice to feel in on the joke for once.
A Few Quick Ending Thoughts
I realize that I didn’t talk about Idlewild, Burlesque, and The Prom that much. So a quick thought on each.
Idlewild is a mess. It’s basically two or three movies crammed into one, it tries way too hard to be eccentric, and it barely qualifies as a musical. Moreover, it’s flawed in such a way that it would require its own section or article. For the record, I love OutKast.
Burlesque has a storyline where the lead romantic interest is writing a song that he won’t show anyone. Then at the very end of the movie, we finally hear it and it’s basically just a, “Ladies, shake that ass” song. It’s kinda the movie in nutshell.
The Prom is a movie about a bunch of obnoxious musical theater people inserting themselves into a serious situation for selfish purposes, turning a civil rights issue into an excuse for song and dance. It is everything people who hate musicals hate about musicals.
I can’t stop watching that fucking Across the Universe clip.
