Don't Let Him Be Such a Hero: Daniel
Radcliffe as J. Pierrepont Finch
By Shari Perkins
How to Succeed in Business without
Really Trying
By Frank Loesser, Abe Burrows, Jack Weinstock and Willie Gilbert
Al Hirschfeld Theater
302 W. 45th St.
Box office: 212-239-6200
More than three-quarters of the way through
How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, J. Pierrepont
Finch is in trouble--and he knows it. Ensconced in the executive washroom,
the ambitious young go-getter sings a pep song to himself, praising
his "cool, clear eyes of a seeker of wisdom and truth" and his "up-turned
mouth with its grin of impetuous youth" as he gets ready to walk into
a meeting for which he is almost completely unprepared. In past productions,
this number has been performed as a comic love song--a celebration of
Finch's narcissism and self-confidence despite all odds. But the Finch
of Daniel Radcliffe, the star of the current Broadway revival, is not
so sure of himself. He performs "I Believe in You" with a charming--but
rather disorienting to those who have seen or heard earlier productions--anxiety,
which suggests that this J. Pierrepont Finch knows that he's
in over his head, but he is going to walk into that boardroom anyway.
If the winds blow just right, he might walk out again alive.
In this context, the words of the chorus are
strangely ironic. "Don't let him be such a hero," his threatened fellow
executives sing plaintively about a youth--hardly yet a man--who is
walking to his doom. The lines become even more loaded when one recalls
that, for most of the lives of a large percentage of the audience, Daniel
Radcliffe has embodied their generation's greatest fictional hero, Harry
Potter. Moreover, in just a few weeks--during the run of How to
Succeed--the eighth and final Harry Potter film will open worldwide.
When that happens, Radcliffe's Harry will be taking another long walk
into almost certain doom, this time to face death at the hand of his
evil nemesis, Lord Voldemort.
In The Haunted Stage: The Theatre as Memory
Machine, Marvin Carlson asserts that the reappearance of familiar,
already-seen elements on the stage form an important part of the audience's
reception of theatrical works. The interplay of memories form an intertextual
"tissue of quotations" which shape the work's meanings by playing on
the viewers' "horizon of expectations," a process which Carlson calls
ghosting. [1] An actor brings with him or her a collection of associations--either
with his past roles or, in the case of a celebrity like Radcliffe, with
himself--which cannot help but color the way he or she is perceived
when performing. The audience's interest in the performer's past is
not limited to the professional sphere: in "Celebrity and the Semiotics
of Acting," Michael Quinn notes that spectators tend to seek information
about the private life of celebrity performers, forming a body of knowledge
which creates an intertext, or "an accretion, based on similar art/life
connections in earlier roles, and also on the connections the celebrity
provides between the roles themselves." [2] This body of knowledge affects
audience reception as well. In addition, roles can themselves carry
similar cultural baggage, accumulating associations over time which
become the basis for future interpretations that must either build on
or break down what has come before in a complex, ongoing process of
reinvention. [3]
This article is a consideration of the intertextual
web that surrounds Radcliffe's performance of Finch in the 2011 Broadway
revival of How to Succeed. In it, I will consider how the concept
of this musical has bled into publicity materials and critical assessments
of Radcliffe's performance, how his physical presence and personal characteristics
have reshaped the interpretation of the role of Finch, and how Radcliffe
and director Rob Ashford have taken advantage of the audience's investment
in and curiosity about Radcliffe and his abilities in order to shape
the production as a whole.
Much of the interest this How to Succeed
revolves around questions concerning Radcliffe's professional coming
of age, his personal commitment to challenging himself, and his viability
as a Broadway star. Press surrounding his musical theater debut has
focused on the not-quite-former-child-star's attempts to forge an acting
career after his ten-year sojourn as "the boy who lived," a role
that has kept him in the public eye since the age of eleven. The theme
of many articles has been Radcliffe's strategic attempt to continue
his career beyond Harry--a theme that dovetails nicely with Finch's
calculated climb up the corporate ladder in How to Succeed.
For example, in her USA Today piece "Daniel Radcliffe Takes
Steps to 'Succeed' after 'Harry Potter,'" Elysa Gardner announces that
the star is determined neither to become typecast as Potter nor to fail
to "age gracefully."
It was, perhaps, his quest for adult legitimacy
and distance from the franchise that made him famous that impelled Radcliffe
to take on the role of Alan Strang in Equus (London, 2008;
Broadway, 2009). The role of a deeply disturbed youth, featuring a scene
of full-frontal nudity, was a sharp break from his child-friendly image.
Gardner points out that Radcliffe is once again playing against type
in the role of the Machiavellian Finch. This time, however, instead
of nudity and madness, Radcliffe must prove that he can sing, dance,
and carry a Broadway musical, despite being previously unknown for those
skills.
Feeding into this speculation--which was certainly
purposefully cultivated in order to draw curious audiences to witness
Radcliffe's risky endeavor--are a number of articles highlighting the
young actor's relative lack of preparation for headlining in a musical.
According to a New York Times article by Dave Itzkoff, "Now
Just a Muggle, With Song and Dance," Radcliffe was approached by How
to Succeed's producers after they learned that he was singing Sweeney
Todd backstage at Equus; Radcliffe recalls responding
to the invitation to star in a musical by saying, "O.K., yeah, I'll
do dance lessons, fine. But you are swimming against the tide here,
Mr. Ashford." The title of the article, which references Harry Potter
and implies that now Radcliffe must succeed without the aid of magical
powers, frames his performance in How to Succeed as the actor's
real-life battle for professional survival.
In another article, Radcliffe admits to Gardner
that having to dance "scared me. A lot. Because I had absolutely no
aptitude for it." In a third article, in Gotham Magazine, subtitled
"Beyond Harry Potter," he admits that he is "terrified"--but this article
also notes that Radcliffe spent two years training as a singer and dancer
in preparation for the role in the hope that Ashford would not "feel
like he has to censor himself for me" and so that the director could
"treat me as much like a dancer as he can." [4] All of these articles
evoke the mythology of the Harry Potter series, which frame
the eponymous hero as "the boy who lived" against all odds, and who
must meet a challenge much larger than himself--a challenge for which
he is inevitably underprepared.
Unsurprisingly, after opening night a large number
of the reviews centered on the question of whether Radcliffe had "succeeded"
in meeting this seemingly insurmountable challenge. New York Magazine's
Scott Brown voted "yes" in "How Daniel Radcliffe Succeeds on Broadway,"
while Bill Stevenson concurrred, stating that "like Finch, he succeeds."
Tom Geier for Entertainment Weekly also conflated the professional
performances of star and character, writing that Radcliffe was a "coiled
spring of energy who manages to embody the ethos of corporate-ladder-climbing
opportunist J. Pierpont [sic] Finch with a winning combination of youth,
talent, and sheer will power"--nevermind the fact that the musical's
book states that talent is totally unnecessary for Finch's rapid rise.
On the negative side, Charles McNulty gave Radcliffe "an A for effort"
but declared that he did not have the "theatrical stature" to pull off
the role or carry such an outdated show. In a vigorous pan entitled
"Wizard of Corporate Climbing," Ben Brantley noted that Radcliffe was
"the only reason to see the show, and contrary to what the title suggests,
[he] really, really tries." Overall, however, the reviews skewed positive,
suggesting that How to Succeed's public relations team has
successfully revised audience expectations to focus on effort and charm--instead
of judging Radcliffe according to the standards used for, say, Sutton
Foster (Thoroughly Modern Millie, Anything Goes) or Douglas
Sills (The Scarlet Pimpernel), who both rose to fame as unknowns
based on their prodigious talent and polished, charismatic performances.
Radcliffe's performance as Finch is not only
ghosted by his personal work ethic and his image as Harry Potter, a
boy who overcomes overwhelming odds to become a hero. It is also haunted
by the memory of performers who have taken on the role in the past.
At twenty-one, Radcliffe is by far the youngest actor to portray Finch
on Broadway; both Robert Morse and Matthew Broderick were in their early
to mid thirties. Moreover, Morse and Broderick's personae are completely
unlike Radcliffe's, and their interpretations of Finch were correspondingly
different. In the 1967 film, for example, Robert Morse exhibits an almost
demonic quality during the number "I Believe in You," mugging to his
reflection, flashing his eyes with glee, and juggling his bar of soap
with consummate unconcern for his fate. He has absolutely no doubt of
his ability to overcome the greatest of odds: a high-stakes pitch for
an advertising campaign for which he is woefully unprepared. In the
1995 Broadway revival, Matthew Broderick, despite what McNulty described
as a rather passive performance, also could not fail to overcome any
obstacle in his path. After all, he was (and remains) recognizable to
audiences as the Machiavellian trickster Ferris Bueller, all grown up.
The two characters--Bueller and Finch--complement and reinforce each
other.
Radcliffe does not receive this beneficial reinforcement
from his previous roles. If anything, the earnest integrity and intense
personal loyalty of Harry Potter is in direct conflict with the calculating,
manipulative, and emotionally neglectful Finch. The star's extreme youth
also differentiates his Finch from Morse and Broderick, an effect that
Ashford and Radcliffe have consciously evoked. Indeed, Finch is not
a particularly likeable character. Instead of winning us over through
hard work (like Radcliffe), he garners the audience's support in the
same way that Richard III does--through his awe-inspiring ability to
topple all obstacles to his ascent. In this time of recession, Finch
could easily become a villain: his flagrant disregard for the well-being
of the company and the financial devastation he brings down on it are
a little too familiar after the recent economic crisis, which was brought
on by similar machinations.
Radcliffe's youth and his alter-ego Harry Potter's
biography combine to mitigate this effect. According to Ashford, who
was paraphrased by Itzkoff, "a Finch in his late 20s or early 30s might
come off as a corporate dead-ender scheming to dig himself out of a
career rut . . . [but] audiences would forgive someone at Mr Radcliffe's
age, who simply doesn't know any better." [5] Indeed, rather than a
brilliant and devious schemer, Radcliffe's Finch comes across as clever,
extremely lucky, and willing to let others make false assumptions if
it is to his benefit. In the same vein, his youth makes Finch's utter
neglect of and simultaneous willingness to use the talents of his love
interest, Rosemary, seem the consequence of inexperience rather than
self-absorption. At the end of this How to Succeed, one believes
that Finch could learn his lesson and grow into a decent husband, although
such hopes would be wasted on a thirty-something schemer in the mold
of Broderick or Morse.
Ashford and Radcliffe cleverly manipulate the
audience's curiosity about Radcliffe's fitness for the part. Critic
Terry Teachout amiably winks to curious readers in the Wall Street
Journal: "of course you'll be wanting to know all about Mr. Radcliffe,
and the answer is that he's a pretty good singer and an unexpectedly
good dancer." The dogged attention to points like these in the show's
journalistic coverage suggests that audiences coming to it have three
major questions, plus one minor one: Can Radcliffe sing? Can he dance?
Can he do an American accent? And lastly, is he really that short? Because
Finch sings from almost the first moment, there is little that the director
could do with Radcliffe to play with this question. The critics--and
I--can only respond that yes, Radcliffe can sing well enough for the
part, even if he does not have the caliber voice of many less-famous
performers onstage with him. But the other three questions offer more
room for play.
Having grown up in the spotlight, Radcliffe has
drawn commentary in recent years due to his height. Although Harry Potter
is supposed to have grown tall by the end of his years at Hogwarts,
Radcliffe has remained quite visibly diminutive, a trait particularly
notable at premieres and public events when he is surrounded by his
female costars, who tower over him in their high heels. Radcliffe mentions
his height in several articles related to How to Succeed, noting
that his height gives him increased anonymity in New York ("Its quite
good being this short; you just put up your hood and no one gives you
a second glance really"). [6] Probably a part of this benefit hails
from the disjunction between Radcliffe's perceived stature (via Hollywood)
and his actual physical build.
Ashford has clearly taken advantage of Radcliffe's
surprising shortness: the male chorus members and featured actors in
How to Succeed are uniformly tall. In the eleven-o'clock number,
"Brotherhood of Man," Radcliffe takes the center position in the chorus
and is clearly half a foot shorter than his castmates. In "Grad Ol'
Ivy," he is once again surrounded by oversized men--this time in football
gear and padding--during a fantasy sequence that shows Finch going for
a touchdown. Both of these moments strengthen the impression of youth
and innocence discussed above. In addition, Ashford and Radcliffe use
height for humorous ends: in the role of J. P. Biggley, the president
of World Wide Wickets, Ashford cast John Laroquette, who is 6'5". The
contrast between the two performers is comical. In the above-mentioned
football sequence, the 5'5" Radcliffe athletically vaults over his bent-over
costar, whereas Laroquette is able to step over Radcliffe by lazily
lifting one leg.
The ghost of Radcliffe's Britishness plays less
of a role in the show; his accent is convincing, and the audience easily
accepts him as an American. However, at one point in the show his personal
biography intrudes on the production. In the big board meeting, when
Finch, Biggley, and the other executives brainstorm possible "Treasure
Girls" for their proposed television show, one of the executives suggests
trying to get Queen Elizabeth for the part. A beat passes, and Finch
emphatically responds, "Uhhh . . . this is an American show."
The confluence of Finch's dismissive attitude and Radcliffe's known
nationality transformed this rather hum-drum line into a howler. Another
brief yet effective intrusion of Radcliffe's Britishness came during
the fund-raising bid after the curtain call. Raising money for Broadway
Cares/Equity Fights AIDS, the leading men gave a curtain speech. Or
rather, Radcliffe did, using his natural accent. At the end of Radcliffe's
talk, Laroquette did a double-take, demanding incredulously, "You're
British!?!" to the audience's delight.
But the most artful manipulation of the audience's
expectations of Radcliffe's performance skills was Ashford's careful
revelation of his dancing skills. In the first song of the show, Radcliffe
is surrounded by dancing chorus members. His Finch seems out of step
with the bustling of the crack, corporate dancers. Radcliffe slouches,
wanders, shifts his weight back and forth, and observes the technical
skill of his castmates with awe. In this scene, Radcliffe is not graceful,
and one could easily imagine that he is not up to the challenge of dancing
a Broadway musical.
Bit by bit, however, Ashford reveals the fruits
of his star's two years of labor: in "Company Way," Radcliffe displays
a command of rhythm in manipulating all kinds of mail, while the chorus
boys handle the bulk of the dancing. In "Grand Ol' Ivy," near the end
of the first act, Radcliffe begins to show his athleticism, performing
a dance routine composed of leaps, push-ups, prancing, and tumbling.
Although he stays mostly in the back row, Radcliffe allows himself to
be lifted, carried around, passed from hand to hand, and flipped upside
down. The climax comes, appropriately enough, in the finale, "Brotherhood
of Man," when Radcliffe finally breaks into full-out, Broadway-style
choreography. He dances front and center, tiny before his over-sized
castmates, though his character is triumphant. At that moment, carefully
prepared by the entire production, Radcliffe's enthusiasm and accomplishment
are suitably showcased. It is no wonder that the audience cheers, for
in that moment--right as the fast-talking Finch rescues himself from
termination and disgrace--Radcliffe, against all odds, emerges as a
triple-threat Broadway star. If his long walk down Broadway to certain
defeat failed to charm some of Broadway's notorious Lord Voldemorts--Ben
Brantley, for instance--he has once again revealed himself as the Boy
Who Lived.
---------------------------
NOTES
1. Marvin Carlson, The Haunted Stage: The
Theatre as Memory Machine (Ann Arbor: U Mich P, 2003), 4-5.
2. Michael Quinn, "Celebrity and the Semiotics of Acting," New Theatre
Quarterly 6:22 (1990), 154, 158.
3. Carlson, 78-9.
4. Bill Keith, "Daniel Radcliffe: Beyond Harry Potter," Gotham Magazine,
http://www.gotham-magazine.com/celebrities/articles/from-potter-to-pierrepont.
5. Dave Itzkoff, "Now Just a Muggle, with a Song and Dance," New
York Times, Mar. 2, 2011.
6. Keith, "Daniel Radcliffe."