Whistle A Happy Tune

By Richard Zoglin

Andrew Lloyd Webber was chatting over lunch a couple of weeks ago in an Italian restaurant near his home on London's tony Eaton Square. The place "used to be hot in the '60s," noted Lloyd Webber (who writes a food column for the Daily Telegraph); "the food isn't very good." He picked the restaurant, though, because it's just a block away from the first of two theater openings he had to attend that day: a school production of Oliver!, featuring his two young sons, Alistair and Billy, in the chorus.

Only later would Lloyd Webber scoot across town to the opening most of London was buzzing about--of Whistle Down the Wind, his much troubled musical that had an abortive tryout 1 1/2 years ago in Washington. Since then, Lloyd Webber has overseen a major revamp of the show: brought in a new director, helped rewrite the book and added half a dozen new songs. "To be frank," he says of the old version, "the work had not been done to get it into theatrical shape."

Whether it's in theatrical shape now is a critical question, not only for the fading king of the British musical (who just turned 50 and hasn't had a big hit since Phantom of the Opera more than 10 years ago) but also for the British musical in general. Though Brit-produced extravaganzas from Cats to Miss Saigon have dominated the world's musical stages for nearly two decades, now it's the Americans who have reclaimed the lead. The West End is filled with U.S. imports like Rent and Chicago (and Ragtime and The Lion King haven't even applied for passports yet). The one new British hit of the season is a stage version of that very American pop artifact from the '70s, Saturday Night Fever. The show, adapted by Nan Knighton and directed by Arlene Phillips, reprises the familiar story of the Brooklyn kid who makes it big on the disco floor, adding a dose of Vegas-like pizazz and high-octane choreography. Even the old BeeGees songs sound good when sung below falsetto range (How Deep Is Your Love as a lovers' duet? You bet). All in all, it's a shameless crowd pleaser but easily watchable.

Lloyd Webber always aimed for more than that, though critics weary of his incredible success have long dismissed him as a hopeless pop sellout. Whistle Down the Wind drew predictably mixed reviews, and its future looks cloudy. Yet it marks a step in the right direction for Lloyd Webber. The story, based on the 1961 British film about three children who discover an escaped convict in their barn and mistake him for Jesus Christ, has a welcome modesty and warmth, a far cry from the chilly Gothic pretensions of Phantom and Sunset Boulevard. The setting has been shifted from northern England to 1950s Louisiana, which allows the mostly British cast--particularly the children--to offer up some of the weirdest Southern accents ever heard on stage. Yet the clash of Bible Belt bigotry and Elvis-era rebellion provides a credible framework for the parable about an outcast's redemption, and Whistle Down the Wind is more emotionally accessible and musically alive than anything Lloyd Webber has done in a long while.

Director Gale Edwards, an Australian who staged a first-rate London revival of Jesus Christ Superstar in 1996, has put together a smooth, unshowy production, which combines functionality (a slab of concrete rises and lowers to create a two-tiered set) and lovely images (two teenagers riding a motorcycle in the mist against a deep-blue, storybook night sky). If the musical fails to capture the film's gentle ironies, it adds some intriguing sexual tension between the stranger (a charismatic Marcus Lovett) and the chief child (Lottie Mayor, several years older than Hayley Mills in the film).

But Lloyd Webber's most inspired choice is his new lyricist, Jim Steinman, the veteran rock composer (Bat Out of Hell; Total Eclipse of the Heart), whose fevered, hyperbolic lyrics have unlocked Lloyd Webber's long-dormant rock tendencies. To be sure, Whistle has its share of elevator-music ballads (though you can pipe No Matter What into my elevator anytime), and the upbeat kids' number When Children Rule the World is easy to make fun of (yet still darn catchy). But the Steinmanesque angst in songs like A Kiss Is a Terrible Thing to Waste, or the yearning, over-the-top lyrics like "If all that died again would grow.../ These are the loneliest words I know," have inspired fresh passion and urgency (and a good beat) in Lloyd Webber's music. Forget that falling chandelier; Steinman has brought Lloyd Webber back to the land of the living.