By Steven Suskin
23 Mar 2014
Yank! [PS Classics]
The parade of CDs of new musicals with intriguing, tuneful, literate and unconventional scores — which has recently brought us Giant; Far From Heaven; Fun Home; and Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 — continues with Joseph and David Zellnik's Yank!
The Cromer production was announced for 2011 and then 2012, but has since been withdrawn — leaving Yank! a much-talked-about major new musical that hasn't been produced in its final version. This has not prevented the Zellnik Brothers from taking it to PS Classics and making a cast album featuring the Cromer-supervised revisions, performed by most of the York cast and augmented by newly-commissioned orchestrations from Jonathan Tunick. Another stage in the Yank! saga will presumably follow, but at the moment we have the cast recording to savor.
We have grown accustomed to World War II musicals featuring pastiche scores, so much so that I walked into Yank! at the York with caution. Pastiche musicals can be entertaining (Dames at Sea) or not (Over Here!); in most cases, though, they tend to grow somewhat wearying, especially when the librettos aim for something more weighty than parody. The Yank! opening number, "Rememb'ring You," initially sounds like just another World War II 'missing you' ballad. It turns out, though, that the Zellniks have something more in mind. The song fits what is to come and becomes the musical theme; at one point, they weave it into a scene as the GIs write letters to the girls back home, which only accentuates the hero's awkwardness as he writes to his soldier boy.
The opening is followed by the lively "Yank," an uptempo song with an insistent beat which supports a full scene, setting the story and getting it rolling. Next comes a second musical scene ("Polishing Shoes") in which the hero's dramatic predicament is clearly demonstrated. The two authors' abilities are ably demonstrated in "Click," a song of seduction with David's smart lyrics set to Joseph's toe-tapping music — and not just in a vague sense; the Zellniks' characters use tap as code for evading Army regulations; the wolf (as it were) teaches the lamb (as it were) to click his way through taboos to exhilarating effect. Then comes the aforementioned "Letters," after which the first act ends with another evocative pastiche-like ballad ("Blue Twilight") leading to an impassioned and awkward love declaration, "You, You."Continued...