Making a musical about the Comedian Harmonists, who were huge stars in Europe in the early 1930s until Hitler’s rise to power eventually shut them down, has been a labor of love for composer Barry Manilow and librettist-lyricist Bruce Sussman for years. Now making it to Broadway, Harmony is an engaging, tuneful, at times poignant stage equivalent of the biopic.
The six men making up the singing group that took Germany by storm in the turbulent late 1920s included three who were Jewish or of Jewish descent: their beautiful blend of voices stands as an apt if unsubtle metaphor for harmony in music, politics, culture—in other words, life. To their credit, Manilow and Sussman don’t push it too hard, but instead move the audience-friendly proceedings along, as the young men meet cute then start becoming successful around Europe until simmering political unrest comes to a head and the Nazis take over, obliterating left-wingers in business, government—and in the arts.
Harmony is framed by the last member still living decades after the events, one of the Jewish men nicknamed Rabbi, who narrates the Harmonists’ story, providing perspective and commentary about what happened and—something that always needs to be said—how it might, possibly, happen again. Chip Zein, still effortlessly charming, plays the older Rabbi with a gracious professionalism, even adding other impersonations when the story calls for it, donning wigs and moustaches to play composer Richard Strauss and, in the show’s most pointed sequence, Albert Einstein, who warns the group members while on their first trip to America to decide whether to leave their beloved homeland or return and possibly never get another chance to leave. Of course, they return, to their lasting regret and horror.
Ace director and choreographer Warren Carlyle, who keeps to a brisk but not too quick pace and a nice sense of mixing the songful with the prosaic, nonetheless lays it on a bit thick when it comes to jackbooted thugs. Still, the personal, political, and musical get a decent amount of exploration for a Broadway show, while Manilow’s mostly interchangeable songs do have those hummable melodies that first caught the ears of fans in the 1970s. Notably, the duets sound best, especially when sung by the formidable female leads, the velvety-voiced Sierra Boggess and harder-sounding Julie Benko, both of whom steal every scene they’re in, histrionically as well as musically.
The sextet—occasionally a septet when Zein sings with the younger group—is very good as an ensemble but the men don’t register as well as individuals. The mingling of their voices, though, is irresistible, and each character earns the audience’s tears when the older Rabbi describes their fates. Though it’s packaged in a familiar manner, Harmony remains a riveting true story that needs telling.