We delve into the journey of creating “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder,” the acclaimed Broadway musical, through an insightful conversation with its creators. From its initial spark of inspiration to its triumphant Tony Award wins, the story is one of creative evolution, legal hurdles, and ultimately, resounding success. Let’s explore the fascinating process behind this beloved show, starting from the very beginning with Robert Freedman (RF) and Steven Lutvak (SL), the writers themselves.
RF: We first crossed paths during the musical theater writing program at NYU back in 1981. We became friends and talked for years about collaborating. We were actively searching for a project to work on together. We explored another show for a while, but then Steve recalled a film he had seen, Kind Hearts and Coronets.
SL: It was during my college years, around 1978 or ’79. Suffering from insomnia, I switched on my old black and white TV. Flipping through the few channels available, I stumbled upon Kind Hearts and Coronets. It struck me immediately – “This could be a musical!” It might sound exaggerated, but it was a genuine eureka moment. I quickly got hold of the script and realized it had a structure that, in a twisted way, resembled Oklahoma! You have two women and a man caught between them, with one woman married to someone else. It felt like it possessed the framework of a classic musical, yet overlaid with a distinctive, quirky, and dark sensibility. I pursued the rights to the film several times and finally secured them. And that’s how we started developing Kind Hearts and Coronets, the musical.
Despite the show’s development at Sundance, recognition with the Kleban and Fred Ebb Awards, and positive receptions from several readings, the journey wasn’t without obstacles. The rights holders ultimately prevented them from moving forward with Kind Hearts and Coronets.
SL: Interestingly, Kind Hearts and Coronets is actually based on a novel that resides in the public domain. When we encountered difficulties with the film company, leading to the rescinding of their offer, we turned back to the original source material, the novel.
RF: The novel is titled Israel Rank: The Autobiography of a Criminal by Roy Horniman, which we had read from the very start of our project. We decided to meticulously remove anything from our musical that was unique to the film and not present in the novel. This still left us with ample material, as we had already introduced numerous original elements. We consulted a highly recommended copyright lawyer who rigorously reviewed our work, provided guidance, and ensured we avoided any potential infringements. We were extremely cautious and made absolutely sure that nothing from the film remained in our adaptation. In retrospect, this limitation proved to be a blessing in disguise for “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”.
What exactly did this shift entail creatively for “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”?
SL: We discovered certain “nuggets” within the novel that were both intriguing and beneficial. Having to revisit and rewrite the show became incredibly liberating. Not only did we have to steer clear of elements we were restricted from using, but it also opened up avenues to be bolder and more imaginative in our creative decisions for “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”.
RF: While both the movie and our show feature eight deaths, the specifics differ. The occupations, personalities, and identities of the victims within the D’Ysquith family are not identical. They are all members of the same lineage, but we were forbidden from using any film-specific details absent from the novel. Some of the murders in the novel were either less dramatic, not humorous, or even tragically unsuitable for comedic adaptation. So, we relished the freedom to invent new identities and inventive methods for their demise in “A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”! It wasn’t just about who they were, but how they met their ends. Being restricted from the film content truly freed our creativity.
Just before a planned production in La Jolla in 2009, a lawsuit from the film’s rights-holders threatened to derail “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”.
RF: That period was incredibly stressful. This legal process dragged on for thirteen months, and the judge ultimately dismissed many of their claims. The core issue boiled down to whether we could have a single actor portraying all the members of the family who are murdered. This concept wasn’t in the novel, as it’s a book, not a theatrical performance, but it was a defining element of the film. Our lawyer effectively argued that such theatrical conventions have existed since the inception of theater itself. And in March 2011, the judge delivered a complete dismissal of the case, paving the way for “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder” to proceed.
SL: The judge’s ruling astutely observed, “ultimately the movie and the musical are two completely different iterations of the same underlying material. The movie plants its tongue firmly in its cheek and the musical sticks its tongue out.” This perfectly captured the distinct comedic tone of “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”.
Let’s delve into the heart of “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder” itself and your collaborative process in bringing it to life. What is the inherent appeal of this piece? It’s undeniably hilarious, yet it possesses a certain darkness. The show constantly explores the line between making unsavory characters likeable – or at least, entertainingly unlikeable – enough that the audience revels in their inventive demises.
SL: We were very mindful of that delicate balance. It was crucial to make the D’Ysquiths sufficiently unlikable, ensuring the audience wouldn’t feel remorseful seeing them eliminated. Simultaneously, we needed to craft Monty, the protagonist of “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”, as a sympathetic character and cast an actor who could embody that sympathy.
RF: Monty’s circumstances in life inherently evoke empathy, a feeling universally relatable. He’s an underdog, denied the privileged life he was entitled to by birth. His mother endured immense hardship and sacrifice for him, ultimately dying in poverty due to the D’Ysquith family’s rejection. Furthermore, the woman he loves refuses to marry him because of his lack of wealth and social standing. He realizes that this predicament is directly caused by the family that disowned his mother. The desire for revenge, in some form, is a fantasy most people have entertained at some point.
To further enhance Monty’s sympathetic portrayal in “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”, we ensured that each D’Ysquith he eliminates was thoroughly loathsome, albeit in distinct ways. They all shared a similar arrogance and disdain for the “little people,” making them inherently ridiculous figures.
Crucially, beyond the darker themes, “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder” is fundamentally funny! Steve and I had an incredible amount of fun writing it. We truly immersed ourselves in the language, the attitude, and the overall tone. Maintaining tonal consistency was paramount. We constantly made each other laugh while crafting the lyrics. We wrote lyrics together in the same room, a process some might find unimaginable, but it was integral to our collaboration on “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”. It wasn’t a case of one person taking on certain songs; we genuinely wrote them as a unified team. This collaborative approach likely contributes to the show’s cohesive and singular voice.
SL: Over time, I’ve come to realize that “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”, in a way, is a very low comedy presented in a very elegant package. There’s the faux-classical music, the Edwardian England setting, the corseted women, and the buttoned-up formality. But at its core, it’s a low comedy – a laugh-out-loud, Bert Lahr style of comedy. This realization perhaps dawned on me more fully after the writing process.
One of the standout aspects of “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder” is its remarkable theatricality. The chorus of six actors playing multiple roles, the ingenious stage-within-a-stage design – creating anticipation for what will be revealed each time the curtain opens. This theatrical dynamism is largely attributed to your collaboration with director Darko Tresnjak. Could you elaborate on the joy of the staging?
RF: Steve and I consider ourselves incredibly fortunate to have had Darko and his design team involved in “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”. From the outset, Darko grasped our vision completely. He then collaborated with Alexander Dodge, our set designer, and together they conceived the brilliant toy theater concept. Our contribution was emphasizing that the performance should feel as though it were taking place within the Edwardian era it depicts – a concept that was woven into the writing itself. Darko not only achieved this, but through the innovative use of projections, he seamlessly blended the Edwardian setting with a modern sensibility. The audience is transported to that time and place, yet there’s a contemporary undercurrent. This duality is a key element of the staging’s success in “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”.
What was the experience like on that unforgettable night in June when you won the Tony Award for Best Musical? And Robert, you also received the Tony for Best Book?
SL: Even now, it’s difficult to articulate the magnitude of that moment. Given the almost eleven years we had dedicated to developing “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”, winning the Tony was nothing short of astonishing. Truly astonishing.
RF: It was an utterly incredible experience – surreal and wonderful. Opening night was also magical, and the fact that the show continues to run is still remarkable. Occasionally, when I’m in the vicinity of the theater, I’ll pop in and watch the last ten or fifteen minutes of a performance of “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder”. There’s no feeling in the world quite like it – and this still moves me to tears when I speak about it. It never fails to touch me when I’m in the theater and witness the audience’s reaction at the end. The overwhelming excitement and enthusiasm from the audience, knowing that I’ve been part of creating a shared experience with these strangers, is profoundly moving. By the end of the show, people are genuinely thrilled and overwhelmed. That audience connection is the most meaningful aspect of “Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder” for me. Feeling that energy from the audience, knowing I played a role in creating that shared experience, is miraculous and wonderful every single time. As exhilarating as winning the Tony was – and I don’t want to diminish that achievement in any way, it was amazing and almost dreamlike – that feeling of connection with the audience is even more profound and enduring.
