You could make a musical out of this story. And it might be better than ““Sunset Boulevard’’ itself. Not that it’s a disaster. Ponderous, yes. Inflated, yes. Lacking the dark comedy and sardonic bite of Billy Wilder’s classic 1950 movie, yes. But if the show were original, you’d have to admire Lloyd Webber and writers Don Black and Christopher Hampton for coming up with a nifty story. Now imagine the fun of a ““Sunset’’ with a sharp book by Larry Gelbart, a jazz-edged score by Cy Coleman, a lean, fast-paced production staged by George C. Wolfe. And Barbra Streisand (taking time off from scheming how to stop Newt Gingrich) starring as Norma Desmond, the aging movie goddess.
Star – that’s the point. This $13 million show needs star power to fill the seats at a $70 top ticket. That’s what Close gives it. She can’t sing with LuPone. Out of every eight notes, Close hits about three, strategically placed, with the others sneaking in under cover. But she can act the songs strongly, as she does with the show’s best number, ““With One Look,’’ which evokes the mute magic of the silent screen. What she has is sheer courage, plus the aura, the fatal attraction of the real star. Close is the object of lust, the Broadway audience’s lust for a diva. This gangbang atmosphere is weird, with the audience howling at her every move, including some that are too campy for comfort.
When the crowd isn’t applauding the diva, it’s applauding her real estate, designer John Napier’s delirious mansion, a cross between King Tut’s condo and a Bronx movie palace circa 1940. Trevor Nunn’s staging has tightened since London, and he’s profitably recast the major supporting roles – Alan Campbell as Joe Gillis, the hack screenwriter who falls into Desmond’s clutches, and George Hearn as Max the butler. Billy Wilder’s movie was a black panther, the show is a bejeweled elephant. Well, Broadway has become a circus.
