How I would fix Steve Martin’s “Bright Star”
Recently my wife and I enjoyed an amazing performance of Steve Martin and Eddie Brickell’s Bright Star at Utah’s preeminent theater: the Hale Center.
Set in the 1920's and 40’s, Bright Star is a true story about family and what I would call “how providence can help us overcome the evil decisions of others.” We loved the live music, the incredible performers, the set pieces and staging that are completely on-par with anything you would find on Broadway, and of course a venue which is not just new, but incredibly beautiful and accommodating.
Bright Star, even though it was written by one of our generation’s most accomplished entertainers, didn’t get a ton of recognition when it premiered in New York. Some have attributed this to another big production that overshadowed it that year: Hamilton.
However, I think the real reason is due to a failure to identify and really drive home the story’s core theme, and I think with a couple of small fixes, it could really make a resurgence as one of the great new stage works to come out of the 20-teens.
So here’s how I would fix Bright Star. Fair disclosure: My degree is in business, not liberal arts. I do make a living off of recommending how to improve things, but it’s usually in a boardroom, not on a stage.
***Warning: A few BIG spoilers ahead.*** I was guessing the ending about 20 minutes in, but if you aren’t that type, and love surprises, better stop now!
The central theme of “Bright Star” is enduring love in the face of tragedy, and how we deal with loss. The final scene involves the adopted father telling the story of how he discovered the suitcase with Billy in it, and how he and his wife decided to raise the child as their own. This results in the grand epiphany that brings warm fuzzies to the audience as they realize the baby boy is still alive and was right there in front of us the whole time! Everyone starts reaching for the tissue. Awesome.
But it could have been much more powerful if the idea that led Daddy Crane to the suitcase was emphasized throughout the movie, eventually culminating in a show of how this principle results in good things. Here’s the principle I am talking about:
GOING FARTHER THAN I’VE EVER GONE BEFORE.
Do you remember Daddy Crane saying that? When he talked about hunting frogs as he often did, but because he went farther than he ever had before into the dark woods, he found the baby? Now back up to the beginning of the story:
What if that whole idea was punched up to 100? What if we saw Jimmy actually leave for war, and his father’s anguish over his son going father away than he ever had before? What if the banker — Josiah Crane — told his son that he wanted him to go farther than any family member had before, and therefore disagreed with his relationship with Alice? What if Alice and Jimmy Crane talked about going farther than they ever had before in a romantic way, thus leading to the birth of Billy? What if Alice and Jimmy later spoke about getting out of their small town and going farther away than they ever had before, to escape her grief? What if there was a scene where Alice accepted the scholarship and was once again happy at the chance to go farther than she had ever thought possible? What if Margo Crawford, the shopkeeper who was in love with Billy, talked of going farther than she had ever gone before in expressing her love for him, or told him of her aspiration that, together, the two of them would go farther in life than they had ever been before? Etc.
This theme would build throughout the entire play, until finally, on the steps of the farm house, Daddy Crane began to tell his story from over two decades prior. Until now, even though the theme of “Going farther than I ever had before” was repeatedly brought out, it would still feel unfulfilling to the audience, because despite all of these noble actions of surviving, striving, enduring, and soldiering on, it had still ended in heartbreak and a broken family.
But then Daddy Crane would tell his story of going out to hunt frogs. Instead of a light-hearted poke at country folk and dumb luck, his actions would be interpreted as the moral of the story: “I ventured into the darkness to hunt. To feed my family. To care for the one I loved. Something came over me that night. I felt a whisper to walk farther, to go deeper. I found strength to overcome every obstacle in my path. I went further into the darkness, into the unknown. And it was only when I had gone farther, farther than I had ever been before. . .that I. . . “
“. . . I heard your cry! . . .And how thankful am I! That I went deeper, that I went farther. . . farther than I had ever gone before!“
Can you imagine the overwhelming resolution of that scene?
When Billy then flees the farmhouse to process, but eventually comes together with his birth parents and Margo, there should be written a powerful, multi-character song (think “One Day More” from Les Miserables). The musical components would already have been revealed in previous songs, making the final “Farther: Reprise” that much more epic. The central point is now resonating with the audience like a well-tuned banjo: good things happen when we go farther, when we push ourselves, when we dare to feel deeper, love stronger, and challenge life, more than we have before.
With that small fix, Bright Star doesn’t just tell a story, it teaches a powerful idea, inspiring the audience to consider their own lives and how they too can “go farther than they have ever gone before!”
Have you seen Bright Star? If you have, I’d love to hear what you think of my “fix”!
