Brian d'Arcy James, left, and Kate Baldwin during a performance of "Giant," at The Public Theater at Astor Place in New York.
Giant is the sort of new American musical that you have to root for. It’s big and ambitious, with an expansive, multigenerational story, serious themes and a score by one of the most adventurous of the post-Sondheim generation of theater composers, Michael John LaChiusa. Based on Edna Ferber’s novel — which was turned into a memorable 1956 George Stevens film — it covers 27 years in the life of a Texas ranching family; mixes family soap opera with social history, from the battle between oil men and cattle barons to prejudice against Mexican-American workers; runs for more than three hours. Alas, I found most of it a bore.
The book (by Sybille Pearson) is weighted down with exposition, as it introduces the ever-expanding cast of characters and keeps us apprised of what time period we’re in (“They call it a cold war, this war we’re in now”). On screen, Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson and James Dean brought enough personality to bind together the sprawling story; here a decent but uncharismatic cast headed by Brian D’Arcy James and Kate Baldwin seems merely to be occupying space. As for LaChiusa’s score, it strives for big-sky, Coplandesque grandeur, but is too repetitive and unmemorable, swelling to frequent cymbal-accented climaxes, but brought down to earth by banal lyrics. Giant is as large as the Texas prairie, but unfortunately just as flat.
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