I originally began writing this review with enough drama about Ms. Peters' performance to get 90210 back on the air. After all, we're talking about THE Bernadette Peters here, and there really is no other way to talk about her. But, I've digressed before I've even begun.

In the sense that they haven't done anything all that new or different with it, Gypsy is just another revival. And, in the sense that it's got the feel of an American classic and the rhythms of times gone by, it is, again, just another revival. But, in that its purpose as a show is much greater than that of entertaining an audience for a couple of hours each night, Gypsy is anything but "just another revival."

The show takes place during the demise of Vaudeville, and its depiction of the frivolous art form it so vividly recalls reintroduces the era with a level of class and professionalism it probably never attained in its original incarnation. The plot centers around Mama Rose (Ms. Peters) as she drives her two daughters into the Vaudeville circuit like a second-rate teen actor in his first after-school special driving his brand new Mustang into a highway barrier shouting, "I'm a winner, I'm a winner!"

There are, of course, other characters. Mama Rose has a love interest as do her daughters, June & Louise. There are a number of dancers who perform with the girls. But, as any Bernadette fan can tell you, these other roles are generally little more than props and puppets in a production that's all about Mama.

Back to the subject at hand: Ms. Peters. Wait, I mean Gypsy. Or is it Ms. Peters? Where was I? This role has more stage time than the boat in Titanic and her publicist knows it. Before you even walk up to the theatre and see her name on the marquis, she has been made out to be a diva of such magnitude that Britney Spears couldn't fit her in the vacancy between those nicely bronzed ears. After the curtain-calls, Bernadette was still waiving at us like British royalty and I was overtaken by a torrent of unusual emotions. So, I took my meds and gave the show some thought.

You see, I don't believe in hype. Despite the increased facial firmness and elasticity I experienced after laughing my way through The Producers, I later grew bitter as the production garnered so much more than its share of Broadway's attention that it could've driven Gandhi to starvation in peaceful protest over the sheer injustice of it all.

I prefer to experience things for myself, and I've learned that the only thing worse than going to the theatre with over-inflated expectations is going in with the expectations of others. I refused to speculate on the quality of this particular production or the performance of Ms. Peters. Everyone and their little lamb had published their reaction to the casting-- most expressing surprise and skepticism while I thought it was only natural. As she rounded the age of 29 (yet again) it seemed fitting that she take on such a role, and I was looking forward to her interpretation of the part.

Then, I read the reviews, the gossip columns, and did the Sunday crossword. I watched her performance at the Tony Awards. One thing became clear; while she is undoubtedly gifted beyond words, it seemed that although the dress fit, the part, alas, might not. It seemed to be just too much for her. Mama's vocals are incredibly challenging, and I thought for certain that the demands of it all were going to kill her before I even stepped foot in the theatre. And, I wasn't too far off. Following opening night, Bernadette missed performance after performance. I didn't want to believe she'd been defeated, but I had to prepare myself for the worst.

Alas, we reach the $65,000 question: How did the show soar when its leading lady clearly had to work so hard to pull it off? How did they accomplish such a feat without her daily struggle disappointing the audience? What is the average air-speed velocity of an un-laden swallow? The answers: Bernadette, Bernadette, "An African or a European swallow?"

Though primarily lauded for her vocal talents, she is a quintessential musical theatre diva. The show soared because the toll her body takes each night only feeds the fire that drives her. The very music that seems to torture her is at the same time her greatest motivation, and that inexorable link is what makes every note more riveting than the one before it, even when she seems to strain. What fatigues her is the depth of the emotion she fearlessly immerses herself in for the sake of her art and her audience night after night. It is this depth, this richness, this riveting glimpse of the human condition that makes each performance at the Shubert Theatre a gift from Bernadette to all of us.

Oh, and although I've barely mentioned the rest of the very talented cast and crew, I would like to give a special shout-out to Tammy Blanchard who beautifully demonstrates her skills as an actress, singer, dancer, and animal care-taker. Even more importantly, she proves the she is one young woman who knows how to shine without ever stealing the spotlight from the diva who might strike her dead for even trying. I look forward to seeing her again.

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