Musical Monday Literature: Song of Spider-Man

My dog is named Dr. Bruce Banner (Banner for short), which is obviously named after the Incredible Hulk. I am an avid comic book geek (both reading comics and enjoying the plethora of pop culture that comics and such stories have infiltrated.) Combine that with my love of musical theater, and Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark was something I was really, cautiously optimistic about. For those who don’t know, that musical turned into one of the biggest black eyes in theater. For those who knew that, like me, they might not know just how absurd it was. For the story of what happened from someone who lived it, I recommend Song of Spider-Man by Turn Off the Dark co-book writer Glen Berger.

It is always important to note that in any story told by someone who experienced said story that true objectivity of the story is impossible, but I respect that Berger tells the story of the multiyear creation with as many facts as he can. Berger paints the picture of a group of people who all expected and strived for excellence (something they were used to in their respective careers): Julie Taymor, Bono, and Edge. Berger starts the book with a picture of all four of them, but he is consistent in telling that this story is of a humble playwright who feels in over his head. Though this sometimes feels as if he is painting himself as an innocent cog in an out of control machine, he tells the story with humility.

What went wrong with Turn Off the Dark is a fascinating story, and what I appreciate the most of this book was the nitty gritty—the grind of piece to piece and a better appreciation of how so many phenomenally talented people can struggle so mightily. It was a page turner of a story that had me completing the 350 pages in a little under a week. It’s a quick read because Berger keeps the narrative interesting. The first person accounts and feeling like I was in the room for all of the insanity (both on stage and off) was something that made me stay up later than I wanted to more than one night to read.

One thing that I could’ve done without was a consistent foreshadowing in much of the timeline. If the playwright, producers, or director did something, then Berger would note something akin to “obviously this wouldn’t be something we’d have to worry about…or so we thought.” It is such a cultural phenomenon that the musical had so, so many problems. I would’ve preferred Berger just tell the story and let us see the issues develop as they happened rather than remind us consistently that things would go wrong.

I recommend this book to anyone interested in musical theater but also anyone interested in human drama. A third party reporting on what happened, even after incredible interviews, might be able to paint a little bit more of an objective picture. That book might be able to tell the story of why the entire play was rewritten after 100 previews, and it might be able to tell a thorough tale. What it couldn’t do, though, is tell Berger’s pain in seeing how the rewrite took such an aspirational piece of art and turned into, as he called it, “theme park” type entertainment.

One take away from the book, from Berger’s point of view I’d say, is the telling of Icarus. Everyone knows this story—fly too close to the sun and crash; however, if you fly too low, the water will pull down your wings as well. There are worse things to do than strive for greatness—it just doesn’t always work.