In the practice of conventional theater, the physical dimensions of the stage have been stagnant; its construction imposes conventions that constrain the production between the stage’s “four walls.” Directors must work around these limits to form a convincing, realistic theatrical experience despite its practical and spatial limitations. As powerful theatrical technology transforms the capability of a stage’s space, directors have used creative practices to defy those boundaries: surround sound systems, advanced lighting designs, and adaptive set designs have been used to enhance the capabilities and effects of live theater.
In Jamie Lloyd’s interpretive revival of “Sunset Boulevard,” he daringly expands the possibilities of theatrical technology to challenge the practice of live theater and its historic and practical limitations.
Known for his interpretive classical revivals such as a 2023 production of “A Doll’s House: Part 2” featuring Jessica Chastain as Nora and an upcoming West End production of “Evita” featuring Rachel Zegler as the title role, Lloyd is a rebel of theater in all forms. He distinctly avoids the inherent contradictions of live theater by using the celebrity status of his actors to bring new meaning to the material. Lloyd projects the grandness and personage of fame as a vehicle to contrast his minimalist stage aesthetic, bringing undiscovered meaning to the production and blending it into the fictitious world. In a post-COVID world, with the increased cost and risk of professional theater, musical producers have demanded the inclusion of celebrity and household names as forms of financial safety. Jamie Lloyd, who began directing with experimental productions of Shakespeare plays, has found great artistic value in this formula.
In Lloyd’s revival of “Sunset Boulevard”—an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical that debuted in the West End in 1991 based on the 1950 film of the same name—Nicole Scherzinger (frontman of the Pussycat Dolls) makes her broadway debut as Norma Desmond, with her performance in the West End production earning the Olivier Award for best actress. Nora is a troubled and aging silent movie actress who is unable to succeed in the transition to sound film, and now remains secluded in her mansion. She hires struggling young screenwriter Joe Gillis (Tom Francis), who agrees to write a new movie to revive Desmond’s career. Their relationship develops into a haunting, dangerous romance, leading to Desmond’s psychotic break. Scherzinger, who brings a unique fragility and a haunting sensibility to the role, is a singular force; she delivers one of the strongest Broadway performances of the 21st century. On classic ballads such as “With One Look” and “As if We Never Said Goodbye,” there is a certain intentionality and presence she brings to Norma Desmond, as if it is her God-given duty to play the role.
Despite the dated material, Lloyd provides a brilliant and unique interpretation of the classic musical that favors the practice of minimalism to great success. He finds simplicity in a production that values extravagance. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s gorgeous score, with sonic structures that become early hints to his magnum opus “The Phantom of the Opera,” bizarrely fits the minimalist aesthetic of Lloyd. This is an interesting choice, since the original Broadway production was cut short due to its inability to fund the elaborate set, despite the popularity of Glenn Close’s casting as Norma Desmond.
What is most unexpected from Lloyd’s direction is the inclusion of cameras that project the actors’ movements on a 23-inch screen, occupying the perimeter of the stage. This unique choice adds a distant, dream-like quality to the production, fitting for its Old Hollywood themes. But with pivotal scenes filmed offstage, the technological choice is used to a redundant degree. While this choice allows his direction to be free of physical restrictions, it often comes at the expense of his signature innovation.
No scene more ambitiously defies the standard conventions of live theater than the opening of the second act, in which the “cameraman” follows cast members in their backstage dressing rooms, placing cheeky references to Andrew Lloyd Webber and Scherzinger’s Pussycat Dolls throughout the walls of the backstage. Joe Gillis then exits the St. James Theater and walks, accompanied by the large ensemble, across 44th Street as security pushes aside pedestrians, visibly shocked by the outdoor performance. While Lloyd’s choice certainly added a compelling effect to the production, the rapturous applause that followed the number felt unfitting.
To Lloyd’s credit, the screen added a compelling grandeur of Scherzinger’s Desmond, yet its persistent use adds an unplanned distance between the audience-actor relationship that erases the unique and compelling intimacy of the live theater. Perhaps Lloyd deliberately intensified this border as a choice that examines the unquestioned practicality of this relationship, but even if that was his intention, this technological choice simplifies Lloyd’s stage direction and detracts from his unique directorial command.
For centuries, the practice of live theater has been constrained by the inherent limits of the theater’s physical space. The brilliance of stage direction can be highlighted through the creation of an expansive, realistic theatrical experience, in spite of these conventional standards. Without these specific distinctions, the role and practice of a theater director becomes indistinguishable from other forms of storytelling. While technology is an expansive tool that can transform a theatrical experience, we must be willing to maintain the challenges and limits of live theater. Without these limitations, the practice of live theater becomes meaningless.
Carter Appleyard can be reached at cappleyard@wesleyan.edu.
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