By Bart Greenberg***Mark Nadler‘s Harts’ Desire: The Show That Lorenz Hart and Moss Hart Would Have Written (if only they lived about four decades later)was presented in the guise of a backer’s audition at The Laurie Beechman Theatre. It was for a brand new musical of 1943. Unfortunately, neither the book writer (Moss Hart) nor the lyricist (the unrelated Lorenz Hart) were in attendance. Their stand-in, as musician, singer, storyteller, occasional composer, tap dancer and interpreter of all seven roles, was that whirlwind of a cabaret performer, Mark Nadler. Combining the songs of the one (both standards, 
“My Funny Valentine,” and obscure, “Good Bad Woman”) and the words of the other, culled from a wide range of his plays and musicals, a complete two act show was assembled. It was very much of the backstage musical comedies of the period, with just a bit of twist in the romance department what with more than a dash of “the love that dare not speak its name.”
The fabulous Althea Royce (Mark Nadler), the reigning queen of Broadway, is opening in a new experimental drama trying out in Boston. Her luxurious hotel suite is invaded by her producer, the scrappy Sidney Black (Mark Nadler), the Ice Capades producer with a voice like Jimmy Durante’s, along with his wife, ice skating shopaholic, Frances (Mark Nadler). Also, there are the sweetly innocent young man, Bert Jefferson (Mark Nadler), who is ghosting her memoirs, a worldly-wise English playwright and friend, Owen Turner (Mark Nadler with a dash of Herbert Marshall), her high-strung, pretentious theater director Carleton Fitzgerald (Mark Nadler) and her mother, the vaudevillian Stella Riley (Mark Nadler), who can’t deliver “The Lady Is a Tramp” without returning to add on at least two encores and who has that musical comedy belt of Ethel Merman. Finally, there is the young playwright whose show is opening
that night: Peter Sloane (Mark Nadler), a former truckdriver with the body of a god and the talents of… well, that’s kind of the question. But Althea is smitten. So it Carleton. So is Bert. They’re all “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” by the shy, divinely handsome young man.
Ooops, that’s not quite 1943. Since both the Harts remained sealed in the closet, perhaps they would be surprised by what they had created. Or what the periplectic Nadler discovered in their works. But discovered it he did, and he put it into a logical—well, as logical as 40s musical comedies were—and highly amusing order. Emotions and loyalties of course happen fast in the compressed time of the genre, but nothing is out of the realm of possibility enough to interrupt the audience’s ride along for the fun.
But the gems of the show are the musical score and Nadler himself. Certainly Richard Rodgers’ music soars and sweeps and famously waltzes and is in very good hands—or should one say vocal cords. But it is Hart’s lyrics that get prominently featured in the show, from those used as dialogue and those woven so tightly into plot lines that they feel like they grew out of the story, as good, effective theater writing should. The wit, the wisdom, the character definition gives new life to these classic numbers. This presentation proves how witty, how moving and how profound Hart’s work was.
As to Nadler, his amazing versatility was on full display playing eight very distinct characters, each with their own personality and own voice (both speaking and singing). There are moments where he sang duets with himself, such as the warring husband and wife with “Everything I Have Belongs to You.” He easily shifted emotionally from the raucous ice skaters paean to being “Disgustingly Rich” to the quiet introspection of the experienced playwright’s “My Funny Valentine” to the exultation of the discovery of love by the young “ghost,” “I’ll Tell the Man in the Street.” These are three very distinct characters with their own views on life and happiness, and with little appearing effort Nadler captures them in turn, as he does the other four folks populating his story.
Like so many musical comedies of the period, the second act drags a bit to get to its climax, and some judicious trimming would be a gain. But what a delicious celebration of two of the great men of the theater by a modern divine artist this was.
Hopefully it will return for a longer stay.
Harts’ Desire: The Show That Lorenz Hart and Moss Hart Would Have Written returns for one evening to the Laurie Beechman Theater, 407 W.42nd St., on July 20th at 7 PM. Tickets can be purchased here.
Photos by Conor Weiss
