Sometimes, when a piece of work reaches that level of status to be regarded as “iconic”, it will be retold time and again for audiences to enjoy. However, that can be a mixed blessing. What can be a crowd-pleaser and attention grabber one day can become an old-fashioned relic as its medium marches on, exploring new storytelling dynamics, techniques, and themes. Such is the case with the iconic stage musical The Music Man. Written by Meredith Willson (along with Franklin Lacey, who co-wrote the show’s book), The Music Man debuted on Broadway back in 1957. With its charming demeanor, memorable music, and a masterful performance from Robert Preston as Professor Harold Hill, the show earned rave reviews and swept up five Tony Awards including Best Musical. Nowadays, most folks probably think of it as the musical that every community theater and high school has performed at least once, a cheesy slice of old-school musical theater brushed off as just a fluffy piece of musical Americana. However, the fact is that this piece still soars, thanks to its use of its delightful musical numbers and the satirical glint in its view of small-town America.
Set in the summer of 1912, the show follows con man Professor Harold Hill, a salesman with a rather unique scam: selling people on making a boys’ band and getting them to purchase the necessary instruments and uniforms, and then skipping town with their cash and not a single lesson taught to the kids. Rolling into the reserved town of River City, he finds his way into their hearts by whipping the townspeople into a moral panic about the presence of a pool table and convincing them that only a boys’ band can help keep their children on the straight and narrow. Meanwhile, he also sets his sights on Marian Paroo, a local librarian who is the subject of gossip and is herself frustrated by the lack of culture in River City. However, she can see right through Harold’s sales pitch seduction and sets out to expose this fraud. Her own views change, though, as Harold’s wily manipulation transforms the town and brings out a new life in the people. While a frustrated mayor and a rival salesman close in to expose him, Harold finds himself moved as well, and must face the choice of cheating these people of their dream, or opening himself up to a real love and making this lie become a reality.
As I had mentioned before, this show’s memorable songs have helped it to endure over the years. However, it is not only the fact that the music is great. It is in how well-used and ingrained that music is to the story. A con man preys on our emotions and feelings to get to our wallets, and music has a way to cutting right through the core to our hearts. Here, the two mesh naturally as Harold Hill brings his con with musical panache. “Ya Got Trouble”, for instance, displays his fast-paced style with a delightful patter as Harold paints a picture of pool as the epitome of moral corruption, while the iconic number “Seventy-Six Trombones” brings his sales pitch of a boys’ band as the savior for River City children with a loud parade bombast that can’t help but sweep you up and get you humming with the beat. He even displays that musical manipulation in other ways, like dodging questions about his credentials by getting his accusers to sing in a barbershop quartet formation while buttering them up with compliments. In short, it is a successful fusion of music and character, a natural fit for the story it tells. However, it is not only the music where the story is served well. There is also its setting of River City, a key ingredient that has helped to make it an American classic.
When Meredith Willson wrote The Music Man, he was inspired by his own memories of growing up in Mason City, Iowa. Thus, he brings a specific and at times surprisingly sharp view of this small Midwestern town. Out of the gate, the people of River City are presented as standoffish, very much skeptical of anything outside of their own world view. What they don’t have, they do without. There is even an entire musical number to introduce the town as such, aptly titled “Iowa Stubborn”. It is this stubbornness that ironically makes them such good marks for Harold’s con, with their personal biases and eagerness to protect their own swaying them into his boys’ band pitch. However, a change comes over these people by way of this snake oil salesman. A group of bickering school board members become a barbershop quartet, singing in harmony. A young boy shy about his lisp becomes more outgoing as he finds the joy in playing a cornet. Even a squad of gossipy ladies who see the works of Chaucer and Balzac as “dirty books” come around to the heights of culture. In short, they become fueled by the power of a dream. True, it is a dream straight from a con man’s snake oil pitch, but it is a dream that nonetheless lifts them up together and can even change a con artist to an honest soul. It is a quintessential American hope that people can reach up for something grander than the ordinary, that even a glittering marching band can blossom from the most “stick-in-the-mud” town. By recognizing that conflicting mix of the grandest dreams in the most reserved of people, Meredith Willson captured a spark of just what an American people are and the potential they can be.
The Music Man may be seen as just a piece of musical fluff, served up in amateur theaters across the country and flying in on the graces of its music. However, if a production can remember not only to capture that great music but also spotlight Meredith Willson’s incisive view of small-town America, then they can remind audiences why this “old hat” show has still earned its spot on the hat rack.
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