Thursday, September 13, 2007

Number 1300: The Last Five Years Achingly Chronicles a Love That Doesn't Last

I'm not sure whether it's the fact that he was born on the 13th or his lifelong tendency to gravitate toward the slightly macabre, but my brother Nathan's favorite number is 13. You might say he has triskaidekaphilia. So in honor of him, I thought I would post my 1300th review today, on his birthday. Now, if I were really on the ball, I'd find something 13-ish to write about, but I've already reviewed The End - the 13th volume in Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events - and I'm not touching Freddy Krueger with a ten-foot pole, so instead I'll write about one of his latest obsessions: a musical entitled The Last Five Years.

I'd heard the play's title but knew nothing about it until my family's annual trek to Little Pine Valley for our reunion; while I was lost in thought on the ride down, quivering with anticipation over the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, he sat next to me, grooving to his iPod and occasionally singing along to a bunch of songs I'd never heard before. After he stopped listening, he continued randomly singing snippets. I asked that was on his iPod, and he clued me in. The next day, he handed his iPod off to me and told me to listen to the original cast recording for myself, with him standing by to offer his commentary. I did, and in part due to his enthusiastic exclamations, I was quickly hooked on this story of falling in and out of love written by Jason Robert Brown. The album features Norbert Leo Butz and Sherie Rene Scott as young lovers Jamie Wellerstein and Cathy Hiatt, tracing their romance from start to finish through him and finish to start through her. Thus, the giddiest numbers are immediately tempered with searing disillusionment, and vice versa, which gives it an unusual emotional flavor.

Still Hurting - It begins at the end, with Cathy bemoaning the fact that her marriage to Jamie has dissolved. Scott's voice is clear but vulnerable as she addresses the man who is no longer there. A slow and sad song swelling with pathos, its plaintive tone accentuated by the violins in the background. Jamie arrived at the end of the line. / Jamie's convinced that the problems are mine. / Jamie is probably feeling just fine, / And I'm still hurting.

Shiksa Goddess - This introduction to Jamie is as exuberant as the first track is despairing. Butz sounds a little shaky to me at the beginning, but once he hits the chorus, it's right on target, and this is one of the most entertaining tracks on the album. He sounds like he has an enormous grin on his face as he belts out the lyrics over the jazzy piano. He has just gone out with Cathy for the first time, and he's head over heels and delighting in the fact that his mother would be horrified that she is not Jewish. He's feeling rebellious, eager to cast off his roots, at least for a while, and the lyrics reflect that, with the verses discussing his Jewish identity and the choruses listing the increasingly ridiculous list of traits she could have that would be acceptable to him, as long as she isn't Jewish. If you had a tattoo, that wouldn't matter. / If you had a shaved head, that would be cool. / If you came from Spain or Japan / Or the back of a van, / Just as long as you're not from Hebrew school...

Still Smiling - Much of this one has the same tone as Still Hurting, soft and sad, but with a note of optimism that gradually gives way to fiery anger and ending on a note of emptiness and abandonment. They've been separated awhile, and Jamie has come to visit her for her birthday, but he's scarcely arrived before he takes off again, carrying away with him any real hope of repairing their relationship. And the point is, Jamie, / That you can't spend a single day that's not about / You and you and nothing but you, / "Mahvelous" novelist, you! / Isn't he wonderful, just twenty-eight, The savior of writing!

Moving Too Fast - Now it's back to happy again, with a slightly panicked edge. Jamie's career as a successful novelist has begun, and he's thrilled but a little nervous about it; add his perfect relationship with Cathy, and it all seems a little too good to be true. Another fun song, though I must admit the frustrated novelist in me is a bit jealous as I listen to a 23-year-old character gush about his brilliant career. The song has several distinct melodic sections, with him at one point echoing part of Still Hurting, but my favorite is the one it starts off with. I'm gliding smooth as a figure skater. / I'm riding hot as a rocket blast. / I just expected it ten years later. / I've got a singular impression / Things are moving too fast.

A Part of That - More upbeat that Cathy's first two songs, it has her irritated with the way Jamie's success is going to his head, but that's tempered by the times when he snaps out of it and shows her that he is still very much in love. And then he smiles. / His eyes light up / And how can I complain? / Yes, he's insane / But look what he can do, / And I'm a part of that...

The Schmuel Song - Nathan told me that a lot of his friends dislike this song because it doesn't seem to fit in with the rest very well. It's one of his favorite tracks, however, and I agree with him. A fable about an old tailor who goes after his life-long dream and is rewarded richly, it is Jamie's way of encouraging Cathy to pursue her acting. The verses have a distinctly Russian-Jewish feel to them reminiscent of Fiddler on the Roof, while the peppy chorus reminds me of Rent's Seasons of Love. It's a long song, and it isn't until the very end that he addresses Cathy directly, but when he does, it's one of the most tender moments on the album. And the clock said: / "Na na na na, na na na, / Oh Schmuel, you'll get to be happy! / Na na na na, na na na, / I give you unlimited time!

A Summer in Ohio - In this sprightly song, Cathy is writing a letter to Jamie from Ohio, where she is living in rather unusual circumstances and trying to make it as an actress. She misses him, but generally her tone lacks the bitterness found in her earlier songs, though there is a cutting edge to her wit. I could shove an ice pick in my eye, / I could eat some fish from last July, / But it wouldn't be as awful as a summer in Ohio / Without cable, hot water, Vietnamese food, or you.

The Next Ten Minutes - For the first time, Jamie and Cathy sing a song together, both caught up in the same giddy feeling of young love that has matured to the point of making a lifetime commitment. Because of the structure of the play, it has been a gradual process of the timelines getting closer to one another; by the finale, Jamie and Cathy will be at opposite ends of the relationship again. That makes this mid-point especially poignant; the two sound lovely and sincerely in love, but we know their bliss is fleeting. And if you in turn agree / To the next ten minutes / And the next ten minutes / Till the morning comes, / Then just holding you / Might compel me to / Ask you for more...

A Miracle Would Happen - There's a smattering of profanity sprinkled throughout these songs, but this is the only one that strikes me as borderline crass. Jamie sounds like he's ingested a large dose of caffeine here, nervously yammering on in a falsely cheery voice about how thrilled he is to be married and how he can handle an inconvenient set of temptations. Still, even as he bemoans, in rather vivid terms, the way gorgeous women are flinging themselves at him now that he is married, he vows to remain faithful. And in a perfect world / A miracle would happen / And every girl would look like Mister Ed, / And it'd be me and Cathy / And nothing else would matter, / But it's fine, it's fine, it's fine...

Climbing Uphill - Here we see Cathy giving acting a real shot for the first time, and it isn't going so well. She pours out her frustrations, and we hear her make several attempts at the audition piece we heard her nail as an aside in the previous song. The internal monologue that we get is especially entertaining, if rather rambling. We get a good sense of just how difficult this challenge is for her, trying enough that she probably wouldn't have tried it without Jamie's encouragement. When you come home... / I should have told them I was sick last week. / They're gonna think this is the way I sing. / Why is the pianist playing so loud? / Should I sing louder? / I'll sing louder...

If I Didn't Believe in You - Jamie is trying to convince Cathy that he has been extremely supportive of her all along and that she ought to return the favor. This is the first real sour note on Jamie's end, since his last song just dealt with a challenge inherent to marriage, not necessarily indicating marital problems. His tone is generally tender, but it's obvious his words are having little effect on Cathy, who refuses to go with him to a publication party. This is the beginning of the end. If I didn't believe in you, / We wouldn't be having this fight. / If I didn't believe in you, / I'd walk out the door and say, / "Cathy, you're right."

I Can Do Better Than That - A happy, peppy song that echoes Shiksa Goddess. Cathy is taking Jamie to meet her parents and telling him about all her failed past loves. While Jamie listed all the things she could be, as long as it wasn't Jewish, Cathy lists all the things he needn't be, as long as he loves her. She also reprises part of Still Smiling, but in an opposite context, since at this early stage of the game, she wants as much of Jamie as she can get and hasn't yet decided that he is too absorbed in his career to pay her proper attention. You don't have to get a haircut. / You don't have to change your shoes. / You don't have to like Duran Duran. / Just love me.

Nobody Needs to Know - Jamie is less sympathetic in this song than in his others; after all, he has broken down and decided to cheat on his wife. Still, he doesn't come across as a complete jerk; while his reasons don't excuse unfaithfulness, they explain it, and we get the sense that Jamie disappearing into his stellar writing career isn't the only reason for the breakdown of his marriage. Cathy's neediness has contributed a great deal to the problem. All that I ask for / Is one little corner, / One private room / At the back of my heart. / Tell her I found one, / She sends out battalions / To claim it and blow it apart.

Goodbye Until Tomorrow / I Could Never Rescue You - Jamie and Cathi share a song again for the end, but they are standing on opposite sides of the spectrum. He is writing the farewell note that Cathy read in the first track, while she sees him off after their first date. Both are saying goodbye, but for Cathy it is the first of many, while Jamie hopes this farewell will stick. A stirring and bittersweet ending. Goodbye until tomorrow! / Goodbye until I crawl to your door, / And I will be waiting. / I will be waiting.

This semi-autobiographical story charting the progression of a romantic relationship reminded me very much of Blankets, the haunting graphic novel by Craig Thompson that traced a young love from start to too-soon finish. It's a bit depressing, especially since Jamie and Cathy actually do get married but don't last too long together once that happens. The vocal performances are impressive; since there are only two characters, both have a lot of responsibility on their shoulders, and they bear the burden well. While there are bits of spoken dialogue missing from this recording and we aren't able to see everything that is happening, the bulk of the show remains intact, so even if you're not lucky enough to have a personal guide like Nathan to walk you through the play, it shouldn't be too hard to follow, and it's worth an extra listen.

Here's to The Last Five Years, and Nathan, here's to the next 19. Happy birthday!

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