That great quote from "The Barefoot Contessa": A Review of "Spelling Bee" at POP

Before the review proper begins, a few disclaimers (and a clarification):

1) My older daughter was five-time, city-wide spelling bee champion (grades 4 through 8) in New Britain;

2) That same daughter, now a rising college sophomore, is a summer administrative intern at Playhouse on Park;

3) A doctor from our family's medical past was an original investor in The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee;

and

4) The "great quote" referred to in the title of this post is delivered by the wife of Humphrey Bogart's character in The Barefoot Contessa and is addressed to a drunken starlet who's just asked, "What's she [Ava Gardner] got that I don't?"  She responds:

What she's got you can't spell, and what you've got you used to have.

 



Photo: Rich Wagner

 

I offer that great piece of script writing, first, because it's one of the greatest put-down lines in Hollywood history (and delivered by the most minor of characters, no less), and, secondly, because the first half of it is so apropos here: What makes this show, and this Playhouse on Park (POP) production, so good is hard to put into words (much less spell 'em).

 

If you don't know the show, it is what the title suggests, following six young spellers (and even four pre-selected audience members) as they try to become the next Putnam County Spelling Champ.

 

Yes, they're the geeks, misfits, and overachievers with all the quirks one expects from those for whom the correct spelling of  "syzygy" is so central to their young lives (not to mention to the lives of the adults who've helped make them this way).  And, yes, the script takes every opportunity (and there are many, many, many such opportunities) to have us laugh at them.  Thanks to Susan Haefner's very smart direction of a talented cast and Robert Tomasulo's tight pit band, I haven't laughed out loud (would that be guffawed?) so often at a theatre in a while.

 

The cast (in alphabetical order) of Kevin Barlowski (Leaf), Hillary Ekwall (Logainne), Emily Kron (the M.C. and former winner Rona), Steven Mooney (William), Maya Naff (Marcy), Joel Newsome (the Vice Principal), Norman Payne (the parolee/grief counsellor), Natalie Sannes (Olive), and Scott Scaffidi (Chip) is very fine across the board.  Each character gets her/his moment or two or three in the spotlight, and each makes the most of it, although this reviewer was particularly impressed by Mr. Barlowski and Mr. Mooney (reunited happily, along with Ms. Ekwall, from POP's You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown) and Ms. Sannes, whose big song simply isn't as good a song as many of the others, but she still made it the single most affecting moment of the show).

 

Which returns us to the Barefoot Contessa line: for all the jokes and goofiness of this show, there's a heart and emotional impact that just shouldn't work...that is, in short, simply hard to spell out.  The show works somehow, and this cast and crew work it very, very well.

 

My only "complaint" is that sometimes the swinging band could, at times, drown out a line or two of a song, but that could just be my ever-aging hearing.  Trust me, you'll hear enough, and laugh enough (and maybe even cry a little), to make up for those few.

 

My only caveat (for parents who may want to bring their young spellers to the show) is that there is an entire song -- performed hilariously (with candy!) by Mr. Saffredi -- dedicated to the physical manifestation of a young man's adolescent yearnings.  Just FYI....but, if your youngsters are good spellers, they probably won't be learning anything new here anyway. 

 

The show runs through July 20th, but I'd suggest getting tickets soon -- before word really gets out and makes getting a ticket harder than spelling "crapaud."

 

 

"...hit him like a FREIIIIIIIIIIIGHT train..." (a review of THE TRESTLE AT POPE LICK CREEK)

I must confess something that regular readers of this blog will find surprising not in the least: that my most consistent nightmare is to wake up to find myself in some contemporary dramatic play.  While I may be more pollyanna-with-rose-colored-glasses-ish than most folk, I'm also undeniably glad I don't see my world as dark and alienating as do so many current playwrights.

Naomi Wallace's The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek, which just ended a brief run at Playhouse on Park (as part of its mature-themed On the Edge Series), offers a place in which no one can love wisely nor well and all physical interaction is an unhealthy blend of distance, violence, and destruction.  Indeed, in this world, if, for some reason, your loved one can't hit you, you help them out by doing it to yourself.

It's a land where both the government and private industry have abandoned its people, and, bereft of that support, a similar abdication of responsibility filters down to families: wives and husbands, parents and children, boyfriend and girlfriend (if those are even the right words to describe our teen protagonists, Dalton and Pace, played with clarity and pathos by Wesley Zurick and Leslie Gauthier).

It's a place where, to find life, the young court death by playing chicken with a train that, unlike them, has the luxury of just passing through their sad little town on the way to somewhere -- anywhere! -- else, and where the grown-ups try to make their conversations matter by trying not to break dishes.

The good news is that Dalton's mother, Gin (played beautifully, yet powerfully, by Melody Gray), seems to find the strength to try to change her world -- no matter how few of those around her are willing (or able) to follow.  One cannot, however, even by play's end, be too convinced that her actions will amount to much, if anything, but the fact that she knows she must try is as "happy" as anything in this play gets.

The production was very, very good in every facet -- which is probably why I didn't like it so much.  As directed by Dawn Loveland, the characters' powerlessness was inescapable, and the small cast realized (i.e.,  "made real") that smothering emptiness. Richard Brundage (as Dalton's lost father) and Rick Malone (as another lost dad) were also effective in conveying their fears that they have/had nothing to offer their children. 

In short, the cast and crew are to be applauded for their powerful work, but, when the pain seems that real, it's hard to say, "Man, I really enjoyed that!"

But, then again, I'm Pollyanna.

A Review of "Lend Me a Tenor" at Playhouse on Park

The secret to a good farce is a premise that, on the face of it, is eminently believable, but then, through the vision of the playwright, brought to life by both the director and the cast, pushes that credible premise to the verge of lunacy...while never forgetting the human heart at its core.  Not an easy feat, as you can easily imagine.

Ken Ludwig's Lend Me a Tenor is one of those scripts that, if done with energy and skill, works very, very well, and, as directed by Jerry Winters for Playhouse on Park, it delivers.

I should note that I have had a relationship, mostly by marriage, with classical performing arts companies (not unlike the Cleveland opera company depicted in the play), so the credibility factor of a) a narcissistic tenor, b) a panicked and frustrated executive director, c) several wannabe performers, and d) a whole bunch of fawning guild-members and/or fans, is decidedly high in my experience.  So, from the start, the farce could play out almost in any way, and I'd have been along for the ride.  In short, trust me, this scenario COULD happen (almost the way it's been imagined).   ;)

Mr. Winters' direction of the fine cast is crisp and light.  Highlights among the cast, for me, are Mike Boland's Saunders, Jeff Gonzalez's Max, Lilly Warton's Maggie, and Corrado Alicata's bellhop (with Saunder's proposed announcement to the audience the funniest thing I've heard in a long time).  While the other cast members (Robert Wilde as the larger-than-life tenor, Ashley Ford as the tenor's wife, Katie Vincent as the aspiring soprano, Donna Schilke as the head of the opera guild) all do very fine jobs, their casting underscores the one weakness of the production, through no fault of their talent or even portrayals.

Photo Credit: Rich Wagner
(l-r: Wagner, Boland, Gonzalez, Alicata, and Schilke)

The play is set in Cleveland, Ohio in 1934, but, aside from the art deco doors and the phone in the hotel suite, I never felt that this was anything but the present time.  While this feeling could stem from my too often thinking and dressing like it's 1942, every one in those latter roles looked too contemporary to me. Maybe I've seen the Marx Brothers' A Night at the Opera one too many times, but the head of the opera guild should look like Margaret Dumont (not the svelte, energetic Ms. Schilke), and, while opera singers throughout history have come in all shapes and sizes, a more Pavarotti-sized tenor, might have made the plot play out in an even more farcical fashion.

Now, this, perhaps idiosyncratic, view should not suggest that the execution of the play by the cast and crew isn't top-notch nor anything short of very, very funny.  Whether it's 1934 or 2014, the ego and the jealousy, the lust and the love, the ambition and the flatulence, are laughable and recognizable.

And, no matter the year, nothing can warm a very cold night (or day) like a good, hearty laugh -- not to mention a swell love story, too (but no spoilers here)!

Lend Me a Tenor runs at Playhouse on Park through February 9.  

Who Let the Dogs Out (sorry, I couldn't help myself): A Review of "The Hound of the Baskervilles"

Photo: Rich Wagner

Sherlock Holmes has become big once again on the screen (big and small -- twice), and, whenever an icon like Holmes returns, it makes one ponder what aspect of the character the culture deems itself to be lacking.  I really have no idea in this case (given that neither the film nor television version resembles Doyle’s detective), but here’s hoping that it’s simply the recognition that intelligence is a good thing.  (Certainly way too few of our public and popular figures seem to possess it, or, if they do, they continue to do a very, very good job of hiding that fact.)

But Holmes, as played by the hilarious Rich Hollman, returns to Connecticut in a wonderful way this holiday season as the lead character in Playhouse on Park’s three-man production of The Hound of the Baskervilles by Steven Canney and John Nicholson.  This fast-paced, every-actor-plays-multiple-characters-in-a-ridiculously-daft-way show is the kind of production in which Playhouse on Park has excelled these past few years, e.g., The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) and The Mystery of Irma Vep, and its Victorian mojo recalls their Around the World In 80 Days (which remains one of this critic’s favorite productions at POP).

Tom Ridgely returns as director, and, under his deft touch, Hollman, with Brennan Caldwell (various Baskervilles, et alia) and POP co-artistic director Sean Harris (Watson, et alia), get to have so much fun that the audience can’t help but to enjoy the ride.  Indeed, the three very talented actors clearly enjoy each other so much on stage that the improvised beginnings of the two acts are even more hilarious than the rest of the script (which, truth be told, drags a bit here and there…through no fault of the acting or direction).  Among the many, many comic highlights are Hollman’s portrayal of a horse swallowed by a swamp (twice), Caldwell’s fear of ghosts, and Harris’ Watson’s need to be loved.

The Playhouse’s technical team once again delivers a clean, well detailed, and nicely executed production.

At this time of year, audiences seek warmth and, well…for lack of a better term, joy.  Playhouse on Park’s The Hound of the Baskervilles, which runs through December 22, provides just that.  A touch of mystery, a lotta laughter, and not a little silliness…just the perfect holiday brew.

CAMELOT at the Goodspeed

Attended Camelot at the Goodspeed Opera House in East Haddam, CT, last night with the family and thoroughly enjoyed a marvelously staged production.

The cast was excellent from the King to the maidens and squires although Erin Davie's Guenevere was particularly charming and, at times, seemed lit like she were in some pre-Raphaelite painting. The chemistry between her and the King (Bradley Dean) resonated more with us than between her and Lance, although I fear that has everything to do with the script itself and nothing with the fine performance of Maxime de Toledo. I've never been able to figure out exactly how any actor can turn this comic, obnoxious, holier-than-thou character into Jenny's lover when his two most affecting songs, "Toujours" and "If Ever I Would Leave You," are left until Act II. His opening number, "C'est Moi," is such a great comic song that it just takes too much for the character to shake that image successfully -- yes, even more than resurrecting the dead.

The songs are, as you'd expect from a Lerner and Loewe score, remarkable and (well, at least I hope this is still true!) familiar: the title song, "The Simple Joys of Maidenhood," "What do the Simple Folk Do?," "C'est Moi," "I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight..." All are done simply, wittily, and truly "loverly" (if I may be allowed to mix my L and L shows).

I am an old-fashioned song-and-dance musical kind of guy, so I didn't expect to enjoy this as much as I did the first production of this season, 42nd Street.

I was right. I didn't. I enjoyed it more.