The first Stephen Sondheim musical I ever saw on Broadway was Passion, his 1994 collaboration with director and book writer James Lapine.
Recently, I picked up a used copy of the DVD of this version, which I watched today. It was my first time seeing Passion since 1994, though I've listened to the cast recording countless times. As some of the original artists mention on the commentary track of the DVD, the recording is one of the best ever done of a stage musical, in part because it was shot on film in an empty theatre after the show closed, so it was possible to get very high-quality close-up shots.
Passion famously opened with a nude scene. The audience got to see the characters Giorgio and Clara in bed making love, with no attempt to cover up the woman's breasts with one of those odd, L-shaped sheets that seem only to exist on network television. For the filmed version, however, up comes the sheet, sparing the viewer the sight of Marin Mazzie's breasts. Mazzie went on to greater fame, playing Mother in Ragtime and appearing in a revival of Kiss Me Kate, but she was also stunning in Passion.
The more interesting part in the show, however, is Fosca, a role originated by Donna Murphy. I loved her when I first saw her in Passion, and was greatly impressed by her range when I later saw her in Wonderful Town. (Younger fans probably know her as the voice of Mother Gothel in Tangled.) The production also boasted Sondheim veteran Tom Aldridge, who had previously played the Narrator and Mysterious Old Man in the original production of Into the Woods. In Passion he plays a doctor who induces Giorgio to take an interest in the sickly Fosca, with some disastrous results.
Sondheim wanted to write the piece after seeing the Italian film Passione d'amore directed by Ettore Scola. The film was itself based on an 1869 novel called Fosca by the Gothic writer Iginio Ugo Tarchetti. The character of Fosca is remarkable both in how repulsive she is and how fascinating at the same time. In a pivotal scene, she shows up on a train in which Giorgio is trying to flee from her. I remember how when I saw the play on Broadway, she asked Giorgio if he wanted her to leave his compartment on the train, and the man behind me uttered under his breath, "YES."
It's the play's ability to elicit that kind of gut-level reaction that makes me really admire the piece. The good news is, a whole new generation is getting to experience it now, thanks to the availability of the filmed version.
