WHILE nearly all of the new Broadway musicals this season are barely scraping by, one show – which turns 60 years old this month – is a box-office dynamo.
Advance ticket sales for the revival of “South Pacific” at Lincoln Center have hit $9 million. The frenzy for tickets has pushed black market prices up to $350 on weeknights and $450 on weekends, almost double what the scalpers are getting for Broadway’s reigning hits, “Wicked” and “Jersey Boys.”
The inflated price is due in part to the fact that there are so few tickets to be had. The Vivian Beaumont Theater seats only 1,000, and right now most of the tickets are in the hands of Lincoln Center Theater’s well-heeled subscribers.
(If you see a nicely dressed middle-aged gentleman outside the Beaumont trying to sell you a pair for $1,000, 10-to-1 he used to work for Bear Stearns.)
But there’s no denying that “South Pacific” – which opened last week to valentines from the critics – is the hit of the spring season, eclipsing, at least at the box office, its gold-plated rival, “Gypsy.”
Last week, I hastily predicted Tony voters would rally to “Gypsy” as Best Revival of a Musical.
Ah, scratch that.
This race is too close to call and should teeter-totter between now and the Tonys in June.
Bernard Gersten, executive producer of Lincoln Center Theater, says “South Pacific” is “the strongest revival we’ve ever done. It’s stronger than ‘Carousel,’ which ran 60-odd weeks, and even stronger than ‘Anything Goes,’ which was a big hit for us.”
The production, directed by Bart Sher, has been extended indefinitely. There are no plans to move it to a Times Square theater because, says Gersten, it was designed specifically for the Beaumont.
Given the show’s enormous popularity, Lincoln Center could pull a Mel Brooks and start charging premium prices for orchestra seats.
A proposal, in fact, was discussed – and rejected.
“We don’t personally or institutionally like the idea,” says Gersten.
They’ve got my vote!
SPEAKING of dear old Mel, it’s fun to imagine him holed up in his Water Mill beach house, railing, like some Borscht Belt King Lear (King Leer?) against those “little columnists” who’ve been mauling his baby, “Young Frankenstein.”
You almost feel sorry for the old guy.
Almost.
But not quite . . .
So let’s maul some more.
The producers of “Young Frankenstein” are continuing their mea culpa tour, this time playing to all those group-sales ticket agents they treated with disdain when they thought they had a hit on their hands.
They’ve been inviting all the agents’ top clients to the show and are trying to schmooze them at a pre-performance cocktail party in the VIP room of the Hilton Theatre.
The producers ask their guests: “What did we do wrong?”
The guests reply: “You capped too many seats, and your prices were too high.”
(They need to throw cocktail parties to find this out?)
The producers are offering all sorts of deals to get groups into the show. And the agents report that their clients are enjoying the show.
But will the mea culpa charm offensive be enough to save “Young Frankenstein”?
No vay.