Bring Back Birdie Blog Part Two: Thoughts on Old Bootlegs, Quickly Escalating Plots, and That Darn Albert
Actual, real footage of me when I discovered the Bring Back Birdie Bootleg.
Welcome to Part TWO of my very, very long discussion of the so-bad-yet-so-good musical, Bring Back Birdie. If you’ve found your way here without reading the first part, turn back!
Read Part One HERE!
If you’re here because you’ve made it through Part One already, great work! Thanks for sticking around. I’ve tracked down a bootleg** of the entirety of Act One of the show, and of a couple numbers from Act Two. I’m still very interested in a complete video of the second act, so if any of you out there know where to find one and you’re just holding out on me, please, please send it my way. I’m dying to know.
The bootleg itself is in kind of rough shape, and it is often difficult to understand a lot of the lines. I was able to track down a draft of the script from over a year before the show opened (I have a problem, I know). There are a lot of differences, but enough remained the same that following along really helped me to decipher a lot of what was being said.
I guess that’s all I’ve got before we just dive right in! Song titles are bolded to help you keep track of where we are.
**as previously stated, in general, bootlegs = bad.
ACT ONE
The Beginning
The bootleg actually begins right after the Overture ends (who makes the ominous “ ‘til now!” announcement? We’ll never know!) with a voice over that sounds like* a program about America’s great musicians. There’s a reference to Al Jolson and Frank Sinatra, among others. And then they promise that “after an absence of twenty years,” Conrad Birdie will be appearing. Ohhh, it’s a promo for the Grammys. This kind of changes things. I thought NBC was like “Albert, if you can find Conrad, you can have $20,000.” I didn’t realize they just went ahead and TOLD AMERICA HE WAS GOING TO BE SINGING even though they had NO CLUE WHERE HE WAS and DIDN’T KNOW IF HE’D SAY YES. This is dumb.
Then – lights up on Albert and Rose breaking into the office. Rose is mad. She says this is illegal. Albert says it’s not illegal – it’s his old office from twenty years ago, after all. Albert thinks that Conrad’s contract will still be there twenty years later (Why? Why would it still be there?). This is literally all that happens before Rose starts singing.
*as I said before, the audio on this isn’t great — but its a miracle it even exists! How on earth did people sneak cameras into theaters in the 80s??? You can also hear the filmer ask their companion in the beginning if they should “move down” — I guess the show wasn’t sold out.
Twenty Happy Years
The song is less romantic than you might think because Albert spends most of it trying to break into a drawer.
In a mid – song conversation that is cut from the album, Rose tells Albert, despite his protests, that there’s no way he’s doing this for $20,000 – he’s doing it because he wants to be in show business. DING DING DING, TEN POINTS FOR ROSE.
After the song is over, we are introduced to Mtobe, who factors into the plot in a much… dumber way than I had anticipated. He is the new tenant of Albert’s old office, and when he sees Albert, he assumes he’s been evicted and Albert is the new tenant – he’s been a bit behind on the rent recently. When Albert tells him no, they just broke in to find a contract, Deus ex Mtobe says that he’ll help him find Birdie for a cut of the money so that he can pay his rent. Albert casually mentions his dear mother who he hasn’t seen in 20 years and, to Rose’s horror, Mtobe offers to help find her, too.
Mtobe also magically opens the drawer that Albert spent a whole song working on, and they find that Conrad’s last contract sent him to Bent River Junction. Wait. So you mean to tell me that Conrad just…played a concert and never came back? That sounds ominous. How are they so certain he’s still alive??
Movin’ Out
This one is much more disappointing in the watching. The song sounds like the “Gimme the Ball” section from A Chorus Line so I guess I just expected… movement? But it’s a bunch of kids sort of bouncing up and down with chunky brick phones with giant antennas. At one point a kid rolls in on roller skates and kind of walks on the toes of them. And that’s it. Doesn’t hold a candle to the frenetic energy of Bye Bye Birdie’s “The Telephone Hour.”
Jenny is… a lot. First of all, she drops the ultimate bombshell that just two days ago she turned sixteen. Woof. And she’s saying bananas things like Gary is the “spirit of her spirit, flesh of her flesh.” And Gary, the ultimate vision of a 1980s apathetic High Schooler, is like “Uhm yeah sure whatever.”
Half of a Couple
Jenny sings this song while her friends play a guitar, a shaker, and a harmonica behind her like a weird little band. Really.
It also ends with a mash-up of “Movin’ Out” and “Half of a Couple,” which I kind of dig. This video is likely of a preview (just statistically speaking), so I wonder if the ending of the song was eventually changed, or just simplified for the album.
I Like What I Do
This works really well on stage actually – Rose is doing house work, and her family keeps physically bringing her to a halt. Jenny announces she’s moving in with Gary. Albert Jr. says he’s been accepted into a band, and guess where they’re going first?? Where every band worth anyone’s time gets their start, Guatemala!! Albert mentions that he just took a six month leave of absence to find Conrad… Oh yeah, and there’s no pay. Mtobe shows up and promises that he’ll have Albert’s mom back to them in less than a week! Rose tells all of them no. Through song.
What you also can’t pick up on through listening alone is that this song is low-key a…commercial? Lyrics like “It’s a life of Joy, and it’s All I need” and “I could stand Cheer, let me Shout it out…” are accompanied by real cleaning products Joy, All, Cheer, and Shout. Watch for yourself.
The set design is really pretty ugly. The whole back wall is TV sets. The office scene had real furniture (a door, a real filing cabinet, etc.), but in Rose and Albert’s house, they don’t have any actual furniture. Just boxes with furniture…painted on them? Are we going for realism or not?
Bring Back Birdie
This is set up even more like Bye Bye Birdie’s “Normal American Boy” than I thought while just listening to it. Albert tells Rose that he’s set up “a demonstration by the youth of America to kick off our search for Conrad Birdie!” He then mentions that he had time to write a song for the occasion. Uhh. Just how long has Albert been thinking about this?? Then Mtobe the detective is introduced as the singer, despite not being a singer OR a youth of America.
During the actual song, Mtobe oversings, the kids look over it, and the delusional Albert thinks this is amazing. Also at one point, Albert harasses a couple dressed as tourists and demands they film the performance.
During my listen, I wondered if this was meant to be a televised event. The show does not imply that it is, so… who cares?
At the end of the number, Jenny and Albert Jr. stumble on stage from who-knows-where, and Rose tells them to enjoy staying with Cousin Alice, whoever that is. Then Rose and Albert leave the kids to catch the bus themselves (yeah, this won’t backfire…). Then the criminally under-developed Jenny and Albert Jr. whine about their lives until a cult member approaches Jenny, and a band, whining about losing their bassist, walks in front of Albert Jr. Jenny literally says “what have I got to lose?” to the girl dressed as Squeaky Fromme, and Albert Jr. mentions that he can play the base, and the band is cool with adding an 11 year old to their midst. The two immediately get out of dodge not TWO MINUTES after being left by their parents. Kids, amiright??
Then there’s a spirited reprise of “Movin’ Out” because it’s the best song in this act.
I also would like to remind you that I am making this sound funny, and while it is absurd, watching it is not funny. It is just bad.
Baby, You Can Count on Me
Before the song begins, Albert says he feels bad for dragging Rose on this wild goose chase. She says it’s okay as she drags suitcase after suitcase on to the stage and he just sits on a bench dejectedly. It’s a funny visual gag, but also, Albert is the worst.
The actual song begins sweetly enough, the pair sit on a bench together and Albert sings. He then gets up and does a sensible soft shoe. It’s cute.
THEN.
Out of NOWHERE two women** stereotypically dressed as Native Americans appear (why??) and hand Albert some boots (why???), which he gives to Rose to put on. Then Albert, Rose, and the two women perform a jumpy little dance break, that is eerily similar to the dance break with Albert and the Two Sad Girls in Bye Bye Birdie’s “Put on a Happy Face.” I picked up the similarities on a listen, but visually, it’s a direct rip-off, except with some casual cultural appropriation this time around.
**actually, it might be a man and a woman? It’s hard to see. Not important.
A Man Worth Fightin’ For
Every time I think this show might be more sophisticated in real life than it is on paper, I am proven wrong. We find ourselves in a Saloon, and Albert asks one of the men if he’s ever heard of Conrad Birdie lurking around these parts. He says no, but the bartender might know. Albert walks over to the previously hidden bartender, and exclaims “Mama!” to which she says “Sonny Boy!” Just like that. Albert find his mom who’s been lost for twenty years. As a bartender. In a random Saloon. Why?
Mae insults Rose, and then mother and son exit while Mae insists she has no idea what happened to Conrad. The men in the Saloon (who also apparently live in a time warp because they are dressed for the eighties—the EIGHTEEN EIGHTIES) tell Rose that what Mae said seemed harsh – and they wonder why Rose stays with Albert if he lets his mother treat her that way. TBH, I’m wondering the same thing, but Rose begins to sing. Rose says he’s a man worth fighting for. The men assure Rose that she’s “a gal worth fighting for.” They all participate in a fun and flirty dance break. As predicted, the dance break includes a great performance from Chita Rivera. It’s amazingly executed (and great choreography) but the song is so country hokey. The number actually has some visual similarities to Bye Bye Birdie’s “How to Kill a Man Ballet” — another dance that is born out of Rose’s frustration with Albert. So much for “not based on a song from Bye Bye Birdie.” The song ends, and the crowd goes WILD for Chita.
Albert shows up and says Conrad WAS here and they’ll investigate tomorrow – in the meantime he’s gonna go spend the night with his mom. Seriously.
Lights up on the next day, and there’s a parade. People are holding signs that say “Send [Mayor] Townsend to the Senate!” Rose and Albert enter the Mayor’s office and then he says something to the effect of “sorry guys, I don’t know what happened to Conrad Birdie, wish I could help!” and then he burps. Which launches us into the song. Seriously. That’s all the lead up we get.
You Can Never Go Back
Despite the dumb premise, this is great. The song is catchy, and the sight of a middle-aged man in a polo dancing on his desk while doing his very best Elvis impersonation is…amazing, to say the least.
Rose and Albert applaud Conrad at the end of the song, which would imply that he actually sang this song in his office. Weird.
Rose and Albert then convince Conrad to build up to his appearance on the Grammy Awards. They suggest that he can headline later that night for America’s hottest new rock band, “Filth.” Albert asks where Conrad’s costumes are. Conrad pretends he doesn’t have them, but soon reveals them all to be hidden in his safe. After a reprise of “Never Go Back” (I’m GONNA Go Back), he’s ready for the big time again.
Rose learns that the kids never went to Cousin Alice’s (via a phone call from Jenny’s “old man” Gary, no less), and runs to Albert, panicked. Albert says it’s no big deal, he’ll just send their new detective friend Mtobe after them. He begs Rose to stay, saying “Conrad needs you, I need you!” More than your children do? Who, may I remind you, just joined a rock band and a cult? What?
All of these shenanigans are interrupted by an announcer announcing Conrad as “mom and dad’s favorite” (this can’t be good…). Conrad comes out, positively STUFFED into his gold suit. He begins to sing Bye Bye Birdie’s “Sincere,” which goes…strangely…because the audience on stage started boo-ing, but the real audience started cheering. Eventually, some girl starts chanting “We want Filth!” and Conrad leaves the stage without finishing, ashamed. Conrad says something about not doing the Grammys show, and some guy from NBC appears and tells Albert that Birdie better be doing the show – or else.
“Filth,” which if you haven’t figured it out by now, is the band Albert Jr. joined (two days ago, also. And now they’re famous???), takes the stage, and then…
The bootleg ends, just shy of the end of the first act. Rats.
ACT TWO
There is no bootleg of Act Two. This is very upsetting. I *have* managed to track down three of the nine numbers in the second act, which will have to do for now.
Inner Peace
There is a video of this, although it’s a little hard to follow exactly what going on because the scene is dark and it isn’t shot super well. A bunch of people, possibly all women, are walking around chanting things like “All is one, one is all. I am one, you are one. I am you, you are me. He is she, they are we.” Rose enters, dressed in a robe that matches the ones on stage (how did she know the cult dress code?), and identifies one of the robed figures as Jenny. She appeals to her — she has a great life and family! What is she doing? Jenny doesn’t answer and instead instructs her mother to “Chant.” Rose says fine, and all of a sudden she is literally being lifted up by the cult members. It seems like she maybe…likes it (?), as the cult members launch into the actual song.
Then the Reverend Sun appears and Jenny tells him she has brought a “seeker of the absolute truth,” her mother. The Reverend Sun, who is dressed absurdly, asks Rose if she’s found Inner Peace, and she responds by pounding on a drum, and removing her robe to reveal a fabulous white jump suit (really.). We then get a weird, yet impressive, dance break where Rose dances with the Reverend Sun. After that ends, Jenny runs in, pushes the Reverend over, Rose says something that sounds like “You just punched my one!” and then the two of them hurriedly exit. The cult members react to none of this.
For what it’s worth, the audience thinks this is FUNNY. They are rolling. Laughing with it? Laughing at it? Unclear. But they love it.
Well, I’m Not
This just isn’t the kind of thing that I can watch and keep to myself. Chita is amazing. Never, ever forget that she was 48 here and she could do things like that with her legs. She’s insane and we are NOT WORTHY. Also I have no idea why she’s wearing such a fabulous outfit, (as far as I can tell, last we saw her she was at the cult. She rescued her daughter, took off her jumpsuit, and put on her best dress? Maybe?) but it’s an AMAZING outfit so I’ll just let it happen.
Bonus points for the triumphant end of the song totally being crushed by Mtobe running in and saying something I can’t quite make out, and then chunky Conrad bursting in and screaming “ROSE, I’M OUT OF THE CLOSET!”. And if THAT wasn’t mood-ruining enough for you, he then adds “OH NOT THAT WAY!,” as if we couldn’t be trusted to get the joke. Sigh.
Rosie
Eh, I take back what I said about this not being as impactful as it could be. Would it have been more moving with Van Dyke? Yes. Does this mean it isn’t still moving? Not at all. Chills. And not just because my apartment is really cold.
The End.
The Wrap-Up: Final Birdie Thoughts.
Between the album and the bootleg, that was…stranger and worse than I expected. And I loved every minute of it. But obviously, the show is… not great. Let’s break it down a little.
The Score: I feel weird about this because very little of this score was just “meh.” I either LOVED it (“Movin’ Out,” “You Can Never Go Back,” “Well, I’m Not!) or really… didn’t (“A Man Worth Fighting For,” “There’s a Brand New Beat in Heaven,” “Inner Peace.”) As I discussed in Part One, the score is also a strange re-hash of many of the songs from Bye Bye Birdie, and with the exception (maybe) of “Well, I’m Not,” none of them manage to surpass the originals in quality. Despite some fun moments, this leaves the score feeling simultaneously familiar and unoriginal.
The Book: The plot of the show is as wacky as I anticipated, and every time I expected things to play out in a way that was perhaps more sophisticated than it sounded on paper, it… didn’t. It was always just as bizarre. The dialogue was stilted and there wasn’t very much of it. Everything escalated very quickly. But more offensive than the book itself is-
The Plot: The biggest pitfall of the show is its plot, and a lot of that is due to some bold choices when when choosing what to satirize, including some choices that I’m not even sure are based in satire at all. Ex-singer Conrad wanting to be a president is an obvious dig at then-actor-turned-president Ronald Reagan. Conrad turning up fat and hiding in the middle of nowhere is a nod to popular conspiracy theories that Elvis had faked his own death. And while the height of kids running away from home was a few years in the past, it was probably still relevant enough to satirize. But there are a lot of elements that don’t seem topical at all — just strange (Albert’s mother as an old time-y star? The Gospel number? Rose Two??) Anyone from the 80s want to weigh in? Are these cultural references I’m missing or is it exactly as weird as it seems on paper?
Slight tangent here, but I read an article written by someone who saw the first preview of the show (jealous!) who said that the cult Jenny ran away to was referred to as the “Sunnies,” an obvious take off on the Moonies cult (there’s no way to glean that from the Album alone, and in the version of the show that is on tape, they never use the word “Sunnie”). He also mentions a song cut in previews for Albert Jr.’s band. It was titled “Filth,” and let’s just say I’m devastated it was cut because he writes that:
“Each musician was sitting on a toilet, singing: "We are Filth. We are Filth. We are Fil-il-il-il-il-il-il-il, We are Filth!” while flushing in rhythm.”
Would somebody PLEASE track that down for me???
And, satirical elements aside, what was up with Albert? Why was he written in a way that was just so unlikeable? I skimmed the rest of the script (I don’t want to give it too much weight as it’s clearly a very early draft— entire songs are missing and in different orders) but he never really seems to learn a lesson? He admits to Rose that Rose Two was a mistake (you think?), but it isn’t particularly heartfelt and he doesn’t apologize for any of his other ridiculous behaviors. Maybe this was fixed in a final draft, but I doubt it. Were people upset by the turn this once beloved character took?
Long story short, despite its many flaws, Bring Back Birdie exceeded my expectations. It’s a mess. It’s nothing short of strange. And somehow… I’m weirdly charmed by it. I am dying to stage a revival of Bring Back Birdie— literally anywhere. On stage. The park. My living room. If you want to encourage me to make bad decisions, let me know and we can go in on the rights.
Also, apparently, Charles Strouse didn’t learn his lesson and there are two (count ‘em, TWO!) sequels to the musical Annie, so if you think that sounds interesting, let me know and I will subject myself to them so that you don’t have to.
