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Can You Teach an Old Sport New Tricks? The Great Gatsby on Broadway.
Singing through the ash dump.
Heavy gilded panels never stop sliding back and forth and up and down (pieces were still clunking into place as the show’s leads, Jeremy Jordan and Eva Noblezada as Gatsby and Daisy, started into the delicate opening of their big first-act closer), and the glut of overwrought background video quickly becomes absurd. As Nick (Noah J. Ricketts) sat center stage in one of the production’s two huge cars, driving from Long Island into the city with the Ivy League “brute” Tom Buchanan (John Zdrojeski, absolutely walking away with the show) and his peroxide-blonde mistress, Myrtle Wilson (Sara Chase), I watched dePoo’s enormous screensaver roll by in the background, and I suffered for the actors. His voice is 100 percent golden leading man — from soap-bubble-light upper register to clamorous belt — but there’s something strange about meeting the enigmatic Gatsby and immediately listening to him launch into a lilting, swelling confession: “I’ve done it all for her / Put up each wall for her / All the plans I laid / All the options weighed / Every price I paid for her … / Daisy.
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