Andrew Schufman, Quintin Michael, and Mary Palazzolo Photo courtesy of Minneapolis Musical Theatre

So, here he was, poised the next year to unveil another new work, collaborating with librettist Arthur Laurents who wrote the books for both West Side Story and Gypsy. Musical theatre in 1964 had gotten off to a rousing start with the opening of Hello Dolly! in January, and Barbra Streisand's meteoric performance in Funny Girl just a couple of months later. Would Anyone Can Whistle hit similar heights? Would its brazen modernity surpass the draw of the traditional fare packing in theatregoers down the block? The answer was a resounding "no," and that modernity–saturated with cynicism–was no doubt a large part of the reason.

Given its history, full productions of Anyone Can Whistle are extremely rare. I have never seen one. My familiarity with the show comes from repeated listening to the original cast album–and thank heavens legendary original cast album producer Gordon Lieberson had the foresight to insist on recording a cast album even though, having run for fewer than 21 performances, Columbia Record's contract to do so was deemed null. Through that album, and the appearance of a number of the score's songs in concerts, cabaret outings, and recordings by Bernadette Peters and Barbara Cook, the show has acquired a strong following of people who mostly, like me, have never seen it.

And so, cheers to Minneapolis Musical Theatre for launching their 2025-2026 season with an in-concert production of Anyone Can Whistle. It is a bare bones staging, but with the performers delivering all of the show's book lines as well as the songs, and a narrator providing a bit of background and "notes" about the staging we would have seen in a full production. On the plus side of this event, the concert has been cast by director Max Wojtanowicz with actors who, even given the limitations of the format, are able to create recognizable characters and, moreover, deliver the songs with a sense of the innuendo and satiric bite Sondheim no doubt intended.

And there are indeed some wonderful songs, some of which you may be familiar with. The lead performers carry the day. Mary Palazzola, as corrupt mayor Cora Hoover Hooper, handles the slithery "Me and My Town" with appropriate venom, and dishes out "A Parade in Town," a declaration of her need to dominate, with fervor. Hope Quinn as Fay Apple, a conflicted nurse trying to unveil corruption, unspools her thesis that virtue doesn't require a spectacle in "There Won't Be Trumpets," giving the song an edge that reveals a glimmer of uncertainty. Her "See What It Gets You" is a juggernaut of anger. One of the show's highlights comes as Quinn gives a heartfelt, moving performance of the poignant title song, a glimmer of the show's potential to have had a heart.

William Lucas, as J. Bowden Hapgood, a newcomer in town who stirs things up, gives a stirring rendition of "Everybody Says Don't," railing against the naysayers of the world, and joins with Quinn in the piercingly beautiful love song "With So Little to Be Sure Of," summoning enough feeling to break through the contrivances of the plot and deliver genuine emotion. A witty quartet for the Mayor and her minions, "I've Got You to Lean On," is enlivened with some cleverly devised movement. The show's biggest full ensemble number, "Simple," is well staged and delivered with the requisite frenetic energy, though its conclusion–that in an insane world, there are no grounds to separate the sane from the insane–feels now, as it must have felt in 1964, like a great oversimplification of very complex aspects of the human condition.

Which brings us to the minus side of Anyone Can Whistle. While many of the songs shine, it is clear enough why this show splattered in 1964. In some ways it was ahead of its time, but still, it is a rather chaotic affair that probably would struggle as much today. By casting barbs at every target you could name–psychoanalysis, capitalism, gender roles, corrupt politicians, medical malpractice, and more–the show tries to do too much and succeeds at none of it. Laurents was certainly witty, and there are jokes that land, even today, but the overall demeanor of the show's book displays an arrogance to its audience that makes one want to keep it at arm's length.

Anyone Can Whistle involves a Midwestern town facing bankruptcy. Mayor Cora Hoover Hooper, corrupt and libidinous, dispatches her minions–the comptroller, the police chief, and the treasurer–to hatch a solution. It can be unethical as long as they don't tell her about it. Their scheme is to set up a phony font of spring water that offers a miracle cure, thus drawing travelers from far and wide to partake of its healing power.

This scheme is challenged by Fay Apple, head nurse of a facility called The Cookie Jar where the town's mentally broken-down residents, called Cookies, are cared for. Fay's campaign to unmask the corruption is undermined by the arrival of J. Bowden Hapgood, who is taken to be the new doctor who will assist aging doctor Detmold in treating the Cookies. The idea of an asylum called The Cookie Jar, and its residents being called Cookies, feels like giving a big Bronx cheer to the realm of mental health.

A romance between Fay and Hapgood crops up, with the potent to draw us in, but it is not very deeply explored. Further, it incorporates the grueling device of Fay only able to express her desires when disguised as a French sexpot, a tired trope from the 1960s that reeks of the values of Playboy magazine at its most adolescent. It does, though, enable Sondheim to include the catchy "Come Play Wiz Me" in the score.

A quartet providing the musical accompaniment, led by music director Walter Tambor, does a fine job of delivering Sondheim's melodies, many of them rife with genius even in a failed project. One cannot help but wish there were a soaring full orchestra, especially to bring full body to the emotional peaks in several songs, but we are grateful for what is available.

The staging is a bit of a grab bag. Andrew Schufman, as Treasurer Cooley and Quintin Michael as Police Chief Magruder each have their own little shtick going, while Benjamin Kruse seethes with corruption as Comptroller Schub. The actors devised their own costumes, which add a bit of jaunty humor to the undertaking. The original 1964 production must have had some terrific musical staging–the only Tony Award nomination the show received was for its choreography by Herbert Ross. Sadly, that element is not part of this concert staging.

But you won't go for the staging, or the costumes, or the story and whatever message Laurents and Sondheim might have hoped to express. You will go for the Sondheim songs, marvelous songs, that are guideposts showing the way to the wit and vigor that was to pounce on stage six years later with Company, and all that followed.

Anyone Can Whistle in Concert, presented by Minneapolis Musical Theatre, runs through September 14, 2024, at the Conn Theater, 1900 Nicollet Avenue, Minneapolis MN. For ticket and information, please visit www.aboutmmt.org.

Book: Arthur Laurents; Music and Lyrics: Stephen Sondheim; Director: Max Wojtanowicz; Music Director: Walter Tambor; Assistant Director: Luke Peterson; Sound Design: Abe Gabor; Stage Manager: Sarah Bauer.

Cast: Timothy Kelly (ensemble), Benjamin Kruse (Comptroller Schub), Aliyah Lamb (ensemble), William Lucas (J. Bowden Hapgood), Alice McLave (Mrs. Schroeder, ensemble), Quintin Michael (Police Chief Magruder), Mary Palazzolo (Mayoress Cora Hoover Hooper), Marcie Panian (Narrator), Hope Quinn (Fay Apple), Mitra M. Sadeghpour (ensemble), Andrew Schufman (Treasurer Cooley), Caitlin Sparks (Baby Joan, ensemble), Marty Swaden (Dr. Detmold, ensemble).