Earlier this year, I received an invitation for a reading of a new musical called Spandex by Daniel F. Levin and Annie Grunow. Telling the story of eclectic characters and the competitive world of aerobics in the 80s, Spandex
is a quirky and energetic piece about achieving greatness. Here to talk about the journey in getting Spandex
off the ground, what the creative team took from the most recent reading, and where the show is going from here, Daniel F. Levin contributed the following hilarious and candid piece in his own words as a part of our guest post series.
"No one would undertake the intricate, painful, gargantuan, hysterical task of putting on a musical play unless he had more enthusiasm than most people have about anything." --Brooks Atkinson,
The New York Times Drama Critic, 1924-1960
I felt like I had paid my dues. I wrote a Holocaust musical. I also had written
Hee-Haw: It’s a Wonderful Li_e, where Sam Wainwright challenges the heroism of George Bailey. At the show’s end (spoiler alert), when Sam’s guardian angel has shown him his life if he had never been born, Sam finally follows through on one thing better than George Bailey: he kills himself.
This is why, when Annie came to me and showed me the youtube clip of the 1987 Crystal Light National Aerobic Competition, hosted by Alan Thicke, I said, “Yes, Annie, that would be a great musical!” No suicides, genocide, or other “ides.” No battle to the death at the end of the show. Lots of headbands, leg warmers, waxed bodies, gelled hair and white teeth, plus the star of TV’s growing pains, Alan Thicke. Annie and I watched the clip over and over. The
Miami Vice décor, the dazzling aerobics moves, culminating in
the great circle wheel of push-ups--all of the elements just seemed to be in place.
And so
Spandex the Musical was born. Annie is an archivist whose last show, according to her bio, was “All My Laundry…co-written and produced with the Sullivan and Francis children and performed in the Francis’ basement on New Years’ Eve 1991.” I’m a musical theater writer whose work, as noted, has trended more towards Les Miz-style shows, only with more people dying, and who has never done aerobics. We dove in.
Like the 1980’s conference call technology we were exploring, we used the power of the Google Docs to share the script. We laughed over terrible jokes. We called the show “a Palimpsest in Two Acts.” We wrote an original opening number on the train featuring the line, “Spandex Spandex, you can wash it on medium warm/ Spandex Spandex, it can fit any physical form,” and highlighting the fact that Spandex is an anagram for “Expands.” Research! Before we had written three scenes, we started imagining an all African-American sequel to the show called
Black Spandex. This is how exuberant you get at the beginning of a new show.
We pushed through a sophomore slump, continuing our regular meetings at the Muff (Connecticut Muffin), the Sauce (now-defunct Boerum-Hill coffee shop Flying Saucer) and the Bucks. We reassured each other that our Montague-street Starbucks would one day have a plaque for us. That Starbucks later shuttered and moved down the street.
By the Spring of 2011, it was time for our first reading. We invited loyal friends to our apartment. Annie brought cheap wine and my girlfriend, Casey, and I ordered pizza. I cast my friend Mike E. as Shmitty, the closeted, tough-as-nails aerobicizer who spent time in the clink. Annie and I thought the character was hilarious and couldn’t wait to hear him brought to life. It turns out that despite being very prominent in the stage directions, Shmitty only had four lines. Mike E. felt slighted. But other parts worked. My friend Dan G. used a horrendous accent to play Israeli fitness guru, Dov Yisrael, but despite this he made the character come to life--funny and full of heart. By the second reading, that Fall, the character of Trip Allen, evil pusher of Instathin diet pills, elicited the proper boos and hisses.
In addition to a central love story between Lorraine, (an aerobics instructor) and Dov, we had a secondary love story between Bob and Linda. All the great shows have a secondary love story! Linda is a plump housewife who, now that the kids are a little older, starts aerobicizing. Her husband is a Reagan administration employee who can’t handle her newfound independence. It all seemed so harmless. But something went wrong. Our reading critiquers couldn’t tell who they were supposed to focus on: Lorraine and Dov or Bob and Linda. Our subplot had metathesized and was now eating up the main plot! Annie and I went back to the Muff and recalibrated. I fought for some scenes--I can get precious; Annie wanted to use a chainsaw--she’s ruthless!.
