For the Love of a Glove
Reviewed by Stephen Fife
Bazalaam Beats Productions
Extended through March 22 [NOTE: Closed early due to COVID-19]
RECOMMENDED
This is a strange time for comedy. On the one hand, we have an unfiltered president who thinks nothing of throwing around crude racial and sexist epithets, and publicly vilifying anyone who annoys him, while on the other hand, personal sensitivities have never been more acute. Any satirist hoping to maintain a career would do well to tread carefully, right?
Not so with Julien Nitzberg. He burst onto the L.A. theater scene in 2006 with the libretto for The Beastly Bombing, an operetta depicting two Timothy McVeigh–inspired white supremacists who come to New York to blow up the Brooklyn Bridge, and then meet up with two incompetent Al Qaeda operatives with the same plan. Doing this a little over four years after 9/11 is not exactly a recipe for success. And yet it was very successful, playing to packed houses for an extended run and winning the L.A. Theater Critics Award for Best Musical. Now he’s back as the book writer, lyricist and director of For the Love of a Glove, a high-wattage musical satire about Michael Jackson and the “behind the scenes” story of his rise to super stardom.
According to Nitzberg’s show, the five Jackson brothers had no real talent. They were just the offspring of factory worker Joe Jackson and Jehovah’s Witness Katherine Jackson, destined to continue the cycle of poverty and disappointment that they were born into until, by a twist of fate, they rescue five aliens from a watery demise, and well… the result is the show business magic that the world is soon to witness on Soul Train and The Ed Sullivan Show, courtesy of Berry Gordy and Motown. I won’t give more away because I wouldn’t want to spoil Nitzberg’s ingenious plot twists, which provide jolt after jolt of adrenaline-laced fun.
Of course, the subject of Michael Jackson couldn’t be more controversial, especially in the wake of HBO’s documentary Leaving Neverland. All I can say (having written The 13th Boy, my own story of being sexually molested) is that Nitzberg has found a very clever way of raising the subject without in any way diminishing its importance. The only times I found myself put off was when the show departs from its tongue-in-cheek skewering of America’s many racial hypocrisies to take aim at the Mormon Church and Donny Osmond. That is, I don’t take issue with the points Nitzberg makes, only that the show occasionally stops being funny when making them, which throws off its mojo.
For the Love of a Glove is off-the-charts when it comes to sending up celebrity bios and jukebox musicals, but these Mormon-related jabs are more pointed and seem at odds with the author’s satirical style. I was also puzzled when a song about white culture stealing black people’s music kept making that point in terms of dick size. Cultural appropriation is wrong, period. When the stereotype of black dicks versus white dicks is brought in, however, it just trivializes what should be a source of genuine outrage, making it unclear just what is being lampooned.
But the music itself is mostly first-rate, whether exploring the Motown sound or the pop idiom for which Michael became famous. While the show does not have access to the Jackson 5 or the Michael Jackson catalogues — it is highly unauthorized! — composers Nicole Morier, Drew Erickson and Max Townsley have created a memorable original score, which incorporates sweet and seductive hooks to often-twisted effects. The choreography by Cris Judd and Bryan Anthony has some problems on the small stage at the Carl Sagan & Ann Druyan Theater, especially in Act I. But when Michael (Eric B. Anthony) breaks loose and finds himself in Act 2, the choreography takes off as well, becoming funny and inventive.
The cast is outstanding, with Anthony and Jerry Minor (as the Glove) leading the way. Andrew Ableson as the alien leader and Ogie Banks as money-obsessed Joe Jackson are wonderful, and Suzanne Nichols gives Katherine Jackson just the right balance of moral conviction and emotional suppression. But the revelation here is Eric Anthony, who dazzles as Michael. It is not simply that his singing, dancing and acting are top-notch, but that the Michael he creates is so real, so poignant, and in no way an imitation. This is true even in Act I, when Anthony spends the act carrying around a three-foot high puppet of Michael as a young boy.
Oh, and a shout out to Robin Walsh, the creator of the many puppets! They are amazing, a source of wonder and wit, displaying a craftsmanship and attention to detail that truly harks back to a less frenetic age. Three to four feet tall, both theatrical and thrilling, they are a perfect way to stylize some of the more emotionally difficult scenes.
The only problem is the stage itself, which is simply too small and confining for a show this ambitious. While Nitzberg does an excellent job with the direction in general, those early scenes in Gary, Indiana — when five actors have Jackson brother puppets, and the five actors playing aliens also have puppets, and then Joe and Katherine Jackson are there too — well, it does get a little ridiculous, and not in a good way. Hopefully, this eccentric and original show will find a large enough audience to merit a move to a larger venue, where it can really take flight.
The Carl Sagan & Ann Druyan Theater in the Center for Inquiry West, 2535 W. Temple St., Filipinotown; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; Mon., 8 p.m.; extended through Mar. 22 [NOTE: Closed early due to COVID-19]. (800) 838-3006 or glove.brownpapertickets.com. Running time: two hours and 30 minutes with an intermission.
