Donny Osmond Bares His Soul in Life Is Just What You Make It

It’s no secret that I love Donny Osmond, and this year it was even more transparent than usual since he was on Dancing With the Stars and hence a more natural topic of conversation. Still, it caught me by surprise when my friend Libbie handed me his memoir, Life Is Just What You Make It: My Story So Far. For one thing, I had no idea he’d written a book, nor did I realize quite how much I’d evidently been gushing about Donny. But now I was about to get his life’s story.

The funny thing about my fondness for Donny is that it doesn’t begin with his child star or teen dream days. Well, maybe that’s not so funny, since I was born during his career slump and he didn’t bounce back until I was nearing double digits. Still, it seems strange to me that prior to reading this book, my only familiarity with his early life as an Osmond Brother was watching the miniseries about his family. I don’t think I’ve ever listened to an Osmond Brothers album. I mean to amend that soon.

No, while I was familiar with the name, I thought of him mostly as a television personality, especially once The Donny and Marie Show started again and I was subjected to Richard Simmons screaming their names several times a day on those endless commercials. But then along came Mulan and the exceptional I’ll Make a Man Out of You, and I realized what an amazing singer Donny is. And not so long after that, I saw Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat on PBS, and while the entire production dazzled me, it was his performance that really caught my attention, especially during the show-stopping Close Ev’ry Door. To this day, I’ve seen few performances to match the purity and sincerity of Donny singing what is probably my favorite Andrew Lloyd Weber song. (One of those, Ryan Kelly’s cover of Desperado, so enchanted me in part because it reminded me of Donny’s delivery of Close Ev’ry Door, as well as my dazed reaction.)

My Story So Far covers all of that territory, from before Donny joined the family group to after Joseph aired. Written with Patricia Romanowski, it’s a fascinating peek into the dynamics of a family who would build a media empire, only to see it crash and have to build it up again, stronger than ever. One of the endearing things about Donny is that he comes across as such a genuinely nice guy, and this book does absolutely nothing to disavow that notion. He seems incapable of truly trashing somebody; any time he expresses dissatisfaction with some element of someone’s personality, he tempers that criticism with praise of another aspect. He finds kind things to say about all sorts of people, from shock-jock Howard Stern to the group of teenagers who heckled him after a performance during his less popular years. He speaks frequently of his commitment to his Mormon faith, which helps inform many of his attitudes and habits, from abstaining from alcohol and profanity to simply being polite at every opportunity. This makes his book a refreshingly G-rated read.

One aspect of the book that I found particularly poignant in light of his death last year is that, particularly when speaking about the early days of the group, Donny compares himself to Michael Jackson. He says how he used to think that Michael was probably about the only other person on the planet who really understood what it was like to be him. Both were seventh in a line of nine children. Both joined their brothers’ groups and found themselves taking over the spotlight. They had to deal with fame from an early age and spent most of their free time practicing under the eyes of very demanding fathers. While I’ve always had a pretty negative impression of Joe Jackson, Donny presents George Osmond in a mostly positive light. It seems that he was an exacting taskmaster, but he never crossed the line into abuse like the Jackson patriarch did. Donny fondly remembers the few times when they got together as children, recalling Michael as sweet, shy and simply grateful to be able to have some normal kid time with a boy around his own age. It’s interesting to see the parallels between these two lives - strange to think how normal and well-adjusted Donny ended up being, while poor Michael, for all his talent, seemed to have little concept of how to operate in the real world.

Donny has plenty to say about many others in the music and television business as well. It’s dizzying to think of how many different people he has worked with on one project or another, from Andy Williams and Jerry Lewis to Groucho Marx and Rosie O’Donnell. But he speaks most often about his brothers, as well as his sister Marie, for whom he reserves special affection (and aggravation). Donny reflects on their beginnings as a group and the various ways in which they might have changed direction; he seems to particularly regret that his teen idol image prevented the group from truly branching out into rock and roll. He also discusses the disappointment that followed their concept album’s dismal sales, which he attributes to an excessive focus on its religious element as they promoted it. Considering his dedication to his church, I was a little surprised that he felt this way, but he was frustrated because he found that most of the songs worked on two levels but that there was no opportunity for people to listen to individual tracks from the album in a different way.

My copy of this book includes several chapters that were written a few years after the original edition. In this section, Donny says that his favorite aspect of his book is his discussion of his crippling social phobia, as his experiences have encouraged many others with similar issues to recognize that they are not alone and to get help. It’s strange to think of a man who’s been performing since the age of six freezing onstage as an adult, let alone going into a panic at the thought of returning an unwanted item to the store, but he candidly recounts this painful aspect of his life, which he overcame with lots of help from his beloved wife Debbie and his psychotherapist, Dr. Jerilyn Ross, who died earlier this month.

I can’t help wondering whether another edition of his autobiography is soon to be forthcoming, now that he’s been crowned Dancing With the Stars champion for the fall of 2009. Or perhaps that experience could be the beginning of a new book, because Donny, no doubt, has many adventures ahead of him, and I look forward to reading about them all.

Mulan Brings Honor to Its Creators

When Enchanted came out last year, one of the things that excited me most about it was the fact that it would be a musical. I adore Disney musicals, and they've been sorely lacking in that department lately. The '90s was an incredibly rich time for this, however; one of the last in that decade-long winning streak was Mulan, an atypical film about young Chinese woman uncomfortable with the role society is forcing upon her who finds out what she's really made of when she enlists in the army, disguised as a man, to spare her ailing father the duty.

There is great beauty in Jerry Goldsmith's score for the film, with all its rich textures and Asian motifs. Mulan's Decision starts off pensive, with lilting, fluty tones that give way to pulse-pounding excitement as the song progresses. The ominous Attack at the Wall prickles with danger, and intensity builds in The Huns Attack, with its distinct instrumentation and march-like rhythms. Suite From Mulan and Blossoms are both notable for the range for expression and the haunting melodies that linger after the song ends, while the poignantly elegiac The Burned-Out Village is perhaps the most moving of the instrumental tracks.

Ever since Beauty and the Beast, Disney always had to have a radio-ready tune or two to stick with the credits. Here, it's True to Your Heart, a peppy ode to self-assurance performed by 98 Degrees and Stevie Wonder, and Christina Aguilera's version of Reflection, the film's most popular song, performed by Lea Salonga in the movie. Just about all of the songs, composed by Matthew Wilder with lyrics by David Zippel, contain at least a nugget about wanting to be true to oneself, but this anthem really hits the message home with all the power balladry it can muster, making it a song frequently heard in American Idol auditions, teen beauty pageants and the like. "When will my reflection show who I am inside?" It's an intriguing question that plagues many - especially, it seems, teenage girls - and Aguilera sings the heck out of it, though as always, I prefer the in-the-moment movie version.

Eddie Murphy is the chief source of comic relief throughout the film, but Mulan's army buddies offer their share of humorous moments, particularly in A Girl Worth Fighting For, in which the guys enthusiastically daydream about the kind of gal they'd love to have waiting for them when they get home. This lively group song performed by Harvey Fierstein, James Hong, Jerry Tondo, Matthew Wilder and Salonga (who, as Mulan, tries unsuccessfully to convince the lads that smarts and guts are as desirable in a woman as good looks and cooking skills) is rowdy but sweet despite its rather patronizing tone. These guys don't yet realize what Mulan is capable of, nor that she is a woman; when they find out, they'll gain a little better appreciation for womankind. It's a lovely light moment that takes a sudden dip into tragedy as it concludes.

Its bookend song is You'll Bring Honor to Us All, performed by Salonga, Beth Fowler and Marnie Nixon, in which Mulan's mother and various other women try to coach Mulan on the standards of grace and beauty she must adopt in order to score a fine catch of a husband. The accompanying film sequence is both funny and frustrating, since Mulan clearly is not meant for the mold the women in her community try to fit her into. "Men will gladly go to war for you," they tell her; they hope that she will be, as the above-mentioned song states, "a girl worth fighting for." I got flashbacks to this song as I watched the first-season episode of LOST in which Sun, the daughter of a Korean business tycoon, is pressured by her parents to doll herself up for a husband she doesn't want. There's also a hint of Fiddler on the Roof, with all the focus on tradition and matchmaking.

All of the songs are cleverly written and give us good insight into the characters, but my favorite has to be I'll Make a Man Out of You, young army leader Shang's whip-'em-into-shape anthem for his sluggish troops. It doesn't hurt that Donny Osmond does the singing; his voice, as he so amply demonstrated in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, is a powerful instrument, and listening to him belt out this half-snarky, half-inspirational song is almost as good as hearing his wistful tones on Close Ev'ry Door, my favorite Andrew Lloyd Webber-Tim Rice collaboration. Osmond conveys a perfect mix of derision and pride as this young man strives to create a cohesive unit and thereby prove himself worthy of his lauded father's legacy. With an irresistible melody and memorable lyrics (, this is the one that will always keep me in the Disney store a few extra minutes if it happens to pop up on the screen just as I'm leaving. "We must be swift as the coursing river... / With all the force of a great typhoon... / With all the strength of a raging fire... / Mysterious as the dark side of the moon."

A stirring movie about a warrior "princess" whose heart and spirit rival Eowyn in The Lord of the Rings, it contains hints of romance but far less than the typical animated Disney feature. The soundtrack accentuates the movie's themes of courage and self-awareness, while the instrumental portions have a unique flavor reflective of the Ancient Chinese setting. Mulan doesn't seem to have achieved quite the classic status of Disney's early-90s batch, but as a movie and as a soundtrack, it's spectacular and well worth a viewing and a listen.

It's a Dream Come True

When I was very little, we had the record for Joseph, and I recall listening to it and enjoying it. But somehow or another it got misplaced, and for years the only thing I could remember about the show was "It was red and yellow and green and brown and blue."

But three years ago, I was with my cousin listening to an Andrew Lloyd Weber tape when Any Dream Will Do came on. It sounded awfully familiar, and my heart skipped a beat as I heard it. Then, a couple of songs later, Close Every Door began to play, and it just about blew me away. A wave of wistful nostalgia washed over me as I fell in love with this song I had last heard when I was probably no more than three years old. The two songs which had been dimly lurking in the shadows of my subconscious mind emerged now, and I was determined to bring them into full light. Imagine my delight when, a few days later, I was flipping through channels and found an ice skater doing a routine to Close Every Door!

I became desperate to find the soundtrack, and I finally met with success in Media Play. Ecstatic, I took home my new tape and played it over and over again. Within the week I knew it by heart, and my aunt bought me the sheet music. Then, just this year, I was thrilled to discover that the play I loved so much but had never seen was going to be performed by youth at our local theater. I was grinning from ear to ear when I left the Playhouse, finally having seen Joseph as well as hearing it. Sure, these were not professional actors, but the show debuted as an elementary school program, after all.

Well, when I heard last week that Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat with Donny Osmond was going to be on PBS last night, I was on cloud nine. I absolutely could not wait to see it. And I was not disappointed.

Going back to its roots as an elementary school production, it begins with a crowd of schoolchildren in uniforms streaming into the school auditorium. Excited to be out of class, they chatter noisily until a severe look from their bespectacled teacher renders them silent. Stiff-necked and formal, the other teachers, mostly men, file in and sit down. An uncomfortable silence ensues as the audience waits for their special guest. As she arrives, flying through the auditorium and dropping her purse, the children erupt into laughter. Regaining her composure, she steps up to the podium on the stage and begins the tale...

As the narrator begins, she is singing directly to the children, and she even leaves the stage to wander among the audience. She finishes her introduction of "the story of a boy whose dreams came true" and Donny Osmond, white-robed as Joseph, emerges in a dramatic burst of fog. Making his way to the stage, he mingles with the children while singing a bright version of Any Dream Will Do. When the song is finished, the red curtain is opened to reveal the narrator in Canaan, where the story really begins.

Much of the charm of this particular version of the show lies in the fact that, although it is a movie, it is presented as a play. The scenery makes no attempt at being realistic; it is as fanciful as possible. Fake sheep on a turnstile, a giant Pharaoh's head whose face lifts up to reveal the pharaoh himself, and an oddly surrealistic jail cell are only a few examples of the overall stagey quality of the show. A grotesquely hilarious scene involves the brothers dismembering a very fake goat, yanking off his legs which have bloody stumps on the end. And when Joseph is trying to get out of the well, watch for his goofy encounter with a cobra puppet that he is obviously controlling himself.

The costumes are phenomenal, and Joseph's coat truly is amazing. Some of the women in Potiphar's home and Pharaoh's palace are clad in rather risque regalia, but it is tasteful enough that I wouldn't worry about young eyes being corrupted by it.

And the songs...what can one possibly say about them? Ranging in style from Western to French to Calypso to 20s gramophone, each song is pure gold. The children lend their harmonies to many of the songs, most notably Any Dream Will Do and Close Every Door. At times rushing onstage and instantaneously changing clothes, other times singing from the audience, their sweet, pure voices sound like a chorus of angels as they are swept into participation in the story.

Ramses, the pharaoh who looks and acts suspiciously like an American King of the 50s, delights the audience as he demonstrates "how we rock and roll in Egypt". Maria Friedman is versatile in her role as narrator, simultaneously observer and participant in the tale. The brothers provide one laugh after another as they don Southern, French, and Caribbean accents. And grandfatherly Richard Attenborough's low-key performance as Jacob, the father of Joseph and, eventually, the entire Israeli nation, radiates with warmth and tenderness.

Dripping with sincerity that even Linus van Pelt would be hard-pressed to match, Donny is enchanting as the starry-eyed youth who rises to greatness despite his brothers' nearly fatal jealousy. His expressions of disgust, confusion, and fear at various points in the show are priceless, and the sheer panic evident in his face as he is repeatedly fallen upon by throngs of ruthless women will have you in gales of laughter. His ingratiating smile lights up the screen time and time again, and the pain and concern in his eyes in Potiphar's dungeon and upon his reunion with his family, particularly his father, are nothing short of heart-wrenching.

After years of fervently wishing Joseph would come to video, my prayers have finally been answered more fabulously than I dared hope. The play-within-a-play idea is unique and truly made me feel like a part of the production. Excellent acting, delightful scenery, fabulous songs, and lots of slapstick bring this beloved Bible story to life in a way that is reminiscent of an elementary school production. The movie retains that charm, though it does include a few cinematic tricks that are expertly interspersed throughout the film. We get to see Joseph flung unceremoniously into a pit not once but twice, and the second time his descent appears endless, like Alice down the rabbit's hole.

A much more light-hearted production than Jesus Christ Superstar, Joseph can get away with the abundant anachronisms. Indeed, they are deeply ingrained into the play; such numbers as Pharaoh's Dream, One More Angel in Heaven, and Go Go Go Joseph demand it. And because it is done as a theatrical production, somewhat similar to Peter Pan and Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella, it is encapsulated in its own whimsical world where anything goes. Of contrast to this is the film version of Jesus Christ Superstar, which is filmed in a vast expanse of desert which simply doesn't fit in with the wacky costumes and oddly placed props.

The grand finale of Any Dream Will Do tops off the movie, soft and gentle in the beginning as Joseph receives from his father the coat which he lost so many years ago. The children chime in with an echo as Joseph grows louder, and he is the joined in exquisite harmony by the narrator. Finally, the entire cast belts out the final verse, and as Joseph demands "Give me my colored coat, my amazing colored coat" the cluster around him disperses, forming a beautiful multi-colored Star of David with Joseph in the center.

Even the credits are entertaining, as we get to see which teacher corresponds to which character. Of some disappointment to me is the way Joan Collins (Mrs. Potiphar/the elementary school spinster) is given co-star billing in everything I have read when she played such a minor role. I think Maria Friedman got slighted, not receiving proper acknowledgment for her excellent work in this film. However, that is a marketing concern and did not detract from my enjoyment of the film.

This movie is an absolute delight for all ages. The timeless tale of ambition and loyalty will never grow old, especially when preserved so delightfully as it is on this video. Who knew that nine chapters of Genesis could be this much fun?