A nose ahead of other musicals

What does one say about the story of Cyrano de Bergerac at this point? That it's a story as old as civilization? Well, possibly. The tragedy of love unrequited does go back a while, but this particular story originated with the 1897 play by Edmond Rostand, based roughly on the life of the real French novelist and playwright of the 17th century. It's a simple one- good guy who considers himself ugly tries to connect with a love from afar -but it's one that never quite fades away. Whether that's because of an entertainment industry driven by men who feel like they can't get what they really want is open to question. But it's a story of longing for something more interesting and exciting than what everyday life has wrought, as well, which is the basic premise of an entertainment industry in the first place, regardless of what modern reality TV might suggest. The story of Cyrano can be direct and, for the sake of a more modern audience, given a more uplifting ending, as is the case with Roxanne, my favorite of Steve Martin's films, or it can stick to the original plot and be a lesson about deeper themes and the tragedy often associated with them, as with Cyrano, the version we saw last night, directed by Joe Wright, which was directly adapted from the 2019 stage musical, directed by Erica Schmidt.

The first draw when we initially saw the trailer was that it was Cyrano, but also because it starred Peter Dinklage, whom most people know from Game of Thrones as the irrepressible Tyrion Lannister, but whom also performed this role in Schmidt's stage version. The potential drawback was that it was a musical, which I've never been particularly excited about for some reason (I like opera.) But the musical elements were largely restrained to solos by the three stars: Dinklage as Cyrano, Haley Bennett as Roxanne, and Kelvin Harrison, Jr. as Christian, without any prolonged song-and-dance routines that interrupted the flow of the story and that seemed to be enough to keep it moving and enjoyable. There's nothing inherently wrong with breaking into song to express deep emotion. I've just often found that it distracts from where the story seems to be going and breaks the rhythm of that progression. [imagine Joel Schumacher voice] "OK, people! We've reached a moment of tension/introspection/emotional depth and we have to stop everything so we can do a song here, OK?"

Again, thankfully, this film didn't really do that... but this was also a pretty slow-paced film, so it would've been more difficult to realize it. Roxanne breaks into the first song while in a carriage heading to the theater with her ostensible suitor, the Duke De Guiche (Ben Mendelsohn, who did well here, just as he did in Mississippi Grind.) But there's a viable question as to why we had to spend that much time in the carriage when Roxanne has already talked about her desire for something different when debating with her guardian, Marie (Monica Dolan), moments earlier. But that's part of the overall equation of watching a musical. Some moments are going to be drawn out so that that element of entertainment- the song -can be experienced by the audience and hopefully be more memorable than just a moment of dialogue. Given that all of the singing in the film was recorded on set (e.g. not overdubbed with a studio version later), I'd have to say that all four of the soloists (including Mendelsohn) did really well in that respect. If there were any points at which the film could've been said to drag (and there were a couple), they were mostly around the ending where no song was in sight, as it were.

But that's also an element of watching a tragedy, which Cyrano is, full stop. Unlike the "good guy gets the girl" aspect of adaptations like Roxanne, this one stuck to Rostand's original approach, which was to examine not just societal views of someone who may be considered "ugly" or, in this case, a "freak", but the internal struggle that that person undergoes where they attempt to deny themselves the solution that may be, uh, as obvious as the nose on their face. They embrace the tragedy that doesn't need to be there, which leaves the audience with the sensation of "If only...", which is precisely how these stories are supposed to work. Dinklage sells this well and it's not surprising that he was cast in this role, given his performances in GoT, as well as films like The Station Agent. In other words, he knows how to sell a tragedy without overdoing it and also by leavening it with very energetic moments outside of that central theme. Indeed, one of the most interesting aspects of the film is the presentation of Cyrano as an accomplished duelist, which the actual Cyrano (actually 'Savinien'; 'Cyrano' was the family name) was, as well. In GoT, Tyrion was imposed upon because of his size and was forced to use his mind to get around that impediment. In Cyrano, he's allowed to use both that and his skill with a blade; akin to Arya's water dancing. It doesn't seem huge (ahem), but it's a step away from the main character as the victim of society, which sets up the final tragedy nicely when he comes to the realization that his problems may have been more of his own creation than anything that other people tried to limit him with.

In the end, I'd say it's well worth the time to see it and not just if you're a fan of the story and Dinklage, but being so is certainly an additional advantage. It won't tell you anything new about the story of Cyrano de Bergerac, but it might give you an appreciation for its different approach to character, story, and song.