#loving the re-re-rewriting language here as that is very much given to phil in the show

[unproduciblesmackdown]

via the summer stock show program again:

WRITER'S NOTES by Cheri Steinkellner | Book & Additional Lyrics

How do you begin to adapt a film like Summer Stock into a stage musical?

Close my eyes and remember what I loved about it when I was a little girl, watching it with my cousin Cathy on the Million Dollar Movie every night for a week and twice on the weekend so we could reenact it beat-for-beat at Sunday family dinner. Key memories include: Singing on a tractor, dancing on a newspaper, and a pink painted sky.

Open my eyes, dig out my Judy Garland boxed-set and watch the DVD.

Close my eyes and re-watch the story on an imagined stage, with a diverse cast, contemporary social values, and a fresh storyline to match.

Open my eyes and write that. Then rewrite it. Then re-re-write, until I hit my deadline and can re-re-re-rewrite no more.

About that deadline: I first got the call in October. They needed a designer draft by January, a workshop draft by March, and a rehearsal draft by June for a July opening. That's fast, even for me, and I started my career in TV where you write and produce a new episode every week. But Summer Stock is all about putting on a show in a barn—so we roll up our sleeves, get up early, stay up late, and get the work—and the play—done!

What has changed from the original and what are the challenges of updating a 1950 film for a modern audience? That feel-good feeling of the original movie is still intact, but story, songs, and characters have all changed to be here now.

STORY: When I first signed on, I was given one mandate: No tractor. Heavy farm machinery wouldn't fit on the Goodspeed stage, so there went the film's whole buy-a-tractor/wreck-a-tractor/fix-a-tractor plotline. This opened up space to answer some of my more burning questions:

Why is Falbury farm at risk?

Why can't Joe get his show to Broadway?

How does a farmgirl like Jane suddenly morph into a triple-threat superstar?

And why is she wearing nothing but a tux jacket and fedora in that pink-sky finale?

As I wrote, more questions popped up: What do you do with a wanna-be actress who doesn't wanna rehearse? Why is a Shakespearean matinee idol starring in a musical in a barn? And what happens when you make show-people wake up at sunrise to muck out the stalls? All of these questions are asked—and I hope answered—in song and dance.

SONGS: The film features nine songs. Most contemporary stage musicals have twenty or more. So building out the score was a task. Some of the film's original songs like "Howdy Neighbor" and "Dig for Your Dinner" are repositioned and repurposed to tell our story. "You Wonderful You" and "Get Happy" have gained back-stories. To fill out the rest of the score, I turned to the Public Domain, where old favorites like "The Best Things in Life are Free," "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows," "Some of These Days," "It Had to Be You," and more, could be tailored to sing in our character's voices. Production numbers like "Paper Moon," "Everybody Step," and "June Night" are newly built on tunes that are nearly a century old, but with Doug Besterman's jazzy, brassy, Woody Herman-inspired arrangements, and Donna Feore's dynamic direction and thrilling choreography, they sing and dance like never before.

CHARACTERS: Looking at 1950s characters through a contemporary lens meant making crucial changes, not only in motivation—but in the people we want to see onstage. One challenge was crafting a story to support a diverse cast of characters with intention, authenticity, and care. I found my way in through the U.S. miltary. Special Services began in WWII and was one of the few army units to be racially integrated. I could imagine an ace director/choreographer like Joe Ross working with a gifted writer like Phil Filmore, pulling together a talented troupe of marginalized soldiers, and putting on a show for the troops. But what happens after the war, when they come home and their show can't get a break on Broadway? Hit musicals in 1950—Brigadoon, Guys and Dolls, Call Me Madam—were distinctly homogenous—i.e., white. Historically, it would be nearly a decade before a Black director would helm a Broadway play (Lloyd Richards, A Raisin in the Sun). So now we know what Joe and Phil are up against, and why they need this barn in Connecticut to put on their show. The Falbury family—Jane, Gloria, and Pop—need this show—and these show people—just as much to save their beloved farm from being acquired by a rich and powerful land owner bent on creating her own family legacy. I won't give away how song-and-dance save the day—but in the end, everyone does Get Happy.

What has been your favorite part of writing this musical and what are you most excited about seeing come to life on stage? If I could spend the rest of my writing life putting old songs into new musicals, I'd be one happy writer. Summer Stock is the second musical I've crafted "with" legendary composers like Irving Berlin, Harold Arlen, and Shelton Brooks (the first was Hello! My Baby, Goodspeed 2011). Bringing in these songs my mom taught me and her mom taught her, so my kids and theirs can sing them again, is my dream job—and I can't wait to see this dream cast hit the notes, find the laughs, and take flight like I can't even begin to dream.