The Cher Show on Broadway: Not Simply Spectacle
Stephanie J. Block stars in ‘The Cher Show’ (Photo: Joan Marcus)
Sarah Parr
I wish I could turn back time almost a year ago to July 23, 2019 — not only because COVID-19 wasn’t a thing — but because that’s when I first saw The Cher Show on Broadway. As someone who vaguely knew one Cher song — “Believe” — prior to the show, I went only because my southern friend was visiting New York for the first time — this was his trip to my backyard, so he could do whatever he wanted and I would suck it up and go along. Little did I know, my outlook on life (and Cher) would change drastically after stepping into the Neil Simon Theatre on 48th Street.
A month earlier, when I watched Stephanie J. Block perform at the 2019 Tony Awards (during which The Cher Show rightfully won two categories), I was less than impressed, even though the song featured an amazing Bob Mackie costume parade. The nerves must have gotten the best of Block, understandably, as the beginning of her singing — not performance — was a bit shaky. In true Cher fashion, though, she shushed her introduction’s applause with “okay, shut up,” which I immediately noticed was something I hadn’t seen in a Broadway show before, and I eventually got to experience a little of that playful attitude in person.
“Look at these bitches,” Block, as Cher, told us with an accent achievable only by talking while using Crest white strips, as Block has explained in several interviews. A couple of audience members were tardy, and instead of ignoring it like everyone else, Block drew attention to the latecomers as they slid into their seats. “Would you let ‘em know how great that opening number was?” Applause, and laughter, erupted. The opening number was magnetic. It was then I knew that I was in for a special wild ride, as I could tell nothing was more important in this show than the characters, even if that meant improvising to fit unexpected circumstances; everything in this show felt so natural I wasn’t even totally sure that moment was improvised. As an actor who used to be scared of straying from the script, this show came into my life when I needed it most. Looks like the script is not always as important as the living art form.
The choice to cast three physical versions of Cher was one of the keystones of originality this show possessed, and it made the show clearly about Cher, as no inner monologues were necessary here. She would just talk to herself (or the audience — the fourth wall got broken quite a bit) when things got confusing or she felt conflicted. “Babe” is the Cher who grew up getting made fun of for her black hair and dyslexia, met Sonny Bono and became one of “the world’s first hippies,” through her own fashion designs and singing. “Lady” is the Cher who became a smart mouth comedic goddess, performing live shows with Sonny and eventually leaving him when he wouldn’t make her a financial partner on their “top ten show.” Finally, “Star” is the Cher who is closest age-wise to the superstar my generation knows: star of her own variety show, Oscar award-winning actress and popstar who is still recording music and going on farewell tours in her 60s. The show is not all linear, so each Cher gets individual time to shine, as well as shared stage time when they weave in and out of each other’s lives, typically resulting in a dazzling musical triad.
One of my favorite instances involving the three Chers talking with each other, figuring out what to do, is when a desperate Babe says to Lady, when contemplating whether to break it off with Sonny, “What are you doing? Sonny and Cher is all we are.” “No, Sonny and Cher is all you are,” a wise Star said to Babe while turning to Lady and stating, “You can be whatever you want to be.” The “Cherapeutic” moments like these enforce the important idea that the past is done and your future does not wholly depend on it. I think people like me were originally turned off to the idea of a show like this because the media painted it merely as a jukebox musical with incredible spectacle. It kind of is, but it contains so much more.
The script, talent, direction, designs, orchestrations, choreography and technical aspects (there were tons of screens and live projections of scenes above the actual action, usually to simulate television broadcasts) combined to make a near perfect theatrical experience. The finale encompassed three of Cher’s last concert tours, and every audience member got up to dance. There was something going on everywhere you looked onstage, and it was nothing short of both fantastical and meaningful.
One of Cher’s most noted songs, “Dark Lady,” functioned in the show as “the highly problematic and real” way Sonny and Gregg Allman competed for Cher’s love. The performance was complemented with an amazingly flexible woman tangoing with all eight men of the ensemble and then getting turned, twisted and flipped in the air thanks to the most flawless teamwork I’ve ever seen onstage during a musical number. This is just one example of the choreography being intelligently fresh and the music arrangements being brilliantly exciting thanks to harmonies overlaying new lyrics to better fit the show while staying true to the songs’ origins.
You see Cher thrive in this show, but you also see her downfalls, both humorous and serious, like having a work dry spell, saying “fuck it” and agreeing to do an infomercial, as well as giving the eulogy at Sonny’s funeral. Other significant characters in Cher’s life, such as her mother and the 23-year old boyfriend she met at her 40th birthday party, add historic humanity to the story of Cher’s life, which is colorful any way you slice it. The honesty revealed and embraced by the show were apparent in Star’s first monologue, when she addressed the audience regarding why a woman her age is prancing around in her sparkly costume, which was at this point essentially “a slingshot and tights.” “I know what you’re thinking,” she continued, “I think the reason is because... I’m shy,” she said, fully believing herself while knowing the audience didn’t. This launched into many surprising, interesting and inspiring pieces of Cher’s life that made you feel close to her, and able to see yourself within her story.
In an era when Broadway musicals such as Into the Woods and Cats are making their way — for better or worse — to the big screen, we forget about the magic of theater. When rude audience members record a show to put up on YouTube, we feel robbed if we paid hundreds of dollars for a good seat. But The Cher Show brings us back to how live theater can enchant us in a way that can never be visually captured on one screen alone. This show works because it is theater and requires suspended disbelief that is still realistic and relatable. The cast album, nor the media coverage it received, do the show justice; there are so many nuances that knock this show out of the park.
I wasn’t ready for how much my life was going to be changed — I had to see the show twice to mentally prepare myself for its closure — I will never again get to experience this wonderful thing. But the show is supposed to go on tour starting this October (as long as COVID-19 cooperates), so you just might have the chance. Take it.