Rating: 8 out of 10.

He’s going to scare the kids in the matinees.

The enthusiasm oozing from every interviewee on-screen during Nick Davis’ You Had to Be There is high enough to warrant the assumption that it might be fake. One look at everyone’s face to see their wide, joyful smiles, however, proves the opposite. It’s therefore no surprise that Davis’ initial pitch to Martin Short was interrupted by the legend admitting his own excitement at the prospect already had him reach out to everyone else to confirm they were all on board.

It’s a testament to who they are as people more than anything else. That this one-to-two-year experience in Toronto (less in the case of Victor Garber once he won the role of Jesus in David Greene’s cinematic adaptation) actually bonded them together for life. Artists love to talk about “family” atmospheres in PR-approved soundbites, but that’s exactly what occurred on the Royal Alexandria Theatre stage. These clowns have shared genuine love for over fifty years.

There’s no better example than a quick shot of John Candy from the early 90s joking he was given a microphone to talk about why he hates “Godspell” so much only to admit he doesn’t. He thinks it’s a lovely show. The problem, he explains, is that he was never in the show and all his friends have spent the past twenty years talking about it in ways that constantly remind him of that fact. It became a part of all their identities. A seminal career and life highlight.

The original ten cast members were Short, Garber, Eugene Levy, Andrea Martin, Jayne Eastwood, Gilda Radner, Avril Chown, Valda Aviks, Rudy Webb, and Gerry Salsberg. What they did in the early twenties with Stephen Schwartz’s music, John-Michael Tebelak’s book (and Paul Shaffer on the piano) became part of a cultural phenomenon that no one foresaw having the major impact it has on comedy, theater, and Hollywood.

More than just a document of the show’s origins, however, Davis uses that as an impetus to delve into the ripple effect. Where did all these performers come from? Why did they converge in Toronto? What did the experience do to open the door for more in Canada and across the border in the United States? How much credit can you give Schwartz for so many of your favorite shows and movies because he picked some of those initial ten solely on charisma?

Everyone still alive (RIP Radner, Salsberg, and Tebelak) is interviewed in front of a brightly colored backdrop with many of the same questions so the answers can be compared and contrasted in an edited rapport. They talk about the audition process, the luck born from so many already being friends and thus cheerleading and propping each other up, and the sheer joy (and physical pain) of performing eight nights a week. They talk about it being the best time of their lives.

The show itself is animated in a 70s style aesthetic a la Yellow Submarine to accompany a bootleg audio recording Short illegally captured on-stage even though the first-person accounts are told in such vivid detail that they’d have been enough without it. There’s some great archival footage of the reaction to the show and news clippings describing its success. And we learn about the show’s evolution to a Levy Jesus and Dave Thomas “shutting it all down.”

For my money, though, it’s the relationships born from the experience that shine brightest. The after parties. The opportunities that arose (and how Short almost derailed his career by initially fearing the improv route so many of them took to “Saturday Night Live” and Second City). The reality that life and/or tragedy took others in vastly different directions whether through geography or career pivots. Yet they still come together today like no time has passed.

Throw Don Scardino (who took over for Garber as Jesus and now directs television—including two episodes of Short’s “Only Murders in the Building”) into the mix with a few other talking heads in comedy historian Kliph Nesteroff, SNL alum Mike Myers, and the ubiquitous Lin-Manuel Miranda and you get as much talk about lasting impact as you do invaluable historical record. This show truly proves an immutable point on the entertainment industry’s timeline.

You Had to Be There will have fans of the musical, the actors, and a good story told well smiling wide themselves once the anecdotes begin. Some tears might be shed too with topics like Radnor’s death and Chown’s exit from the business arriving, but they’ll eventually shift from sad/mad to happy as Davis unveils a surprise that transports them all back to 1972. He’s given us a front row seat to a magical reunion of comedy greats.


Left-to-right: Victor Garber, Jayne Eastwood, Rudy Webb, Eugene Levy, Martin Short, Avril Chown, Paul Shaffer, and Valda Aviks in a scene from Nick Davis’ YOU HAD TO BE THERE; courtesy of Greenwich Entertainment.

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