by George Patterson
NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
A Winning How
To Succeed
in Business Without Really Trying
Summer Lyric Theatre at Tulane University's second production of its 33rd season was the musical comedy classic, How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, with songs by Frank Loesser and book by Abe Burrows (with Jack Weinstock & Willie Gilbert), the team that also gave us Guys & Dolls. The Summer Lyric production, under the astute direction of, and choreographed by, Ed Brazo was a top-notch confection cleverly designed to make a musical comedy queen absolutely kvell.
And I kvelled!
From the blond, kewpie doll good looks of tenor Chris Faith's Liberace-charming J. Pierrepont Finch, the erstwhile window washer who, with the aid of a How To book, climbs the corporate ladder at World Wide Wickets, to the Scrubwomen of Susan Barrett Smith and Claire Conti, this show boasted a cast that knew exactly what it was about and delivered as a well-oiled, and heeled, ensemble.
Under the commanding musical direction of Pam Legendre and perfectly supported by her brassy orchestra, the cast of incomparable singing actors included Lindsey Alley's perky Rosemary Pilkington. When she and Mr. Faith launch into the Act One finale, "Rosemary," in which the two proclaim their love - all I can say is chill bumps filled the room, tears filled the eyes and the audience went mad. There's ageless Emmett Johnson and his bathotically amusing CEO J. B. Biggley. Only a month ago we saw Russell Hodgkinson playing a Gay South American convict and here, in an outrageous red pompadour, he becomes Biggley's nasty nephew, Bud Frump, the erstwhile villain and as such is absolutely side-splittingly funny. His feet never quite seem to touch the floor - how on earth does he do that?
There's Kris Shaw first playing the kindly old Twimble, head of the mailroom, and then, in the final act, he turns up again in grey wig, shades, cigar as Wally Womper, the head of the company. Linda Zoblotsky, whom we saw a few seasons ago starring as Funny Girl, is the sturdy side-kick and fellow secretary, Smitty, while Diane Lala holds up the second line as Ms. Krumholtz and Luis Q. Barroso lends his deft comic timing to the minor role of Bert Bratt, while Daniel Garvey scores as Milt Gatch.
Local jazz great Wanda Rouzan shines as Biggley's secretary, Miss Jones, lending her magnificent voice to only one number, but what a number - the final chorus of the show-stopper, "Brotherhood Of Man."
But it is the astonishing performance of Summer Lyric's darling, Liz Argus, cast against type as the busty sex kitten Hedy La Rue, who really rang the audience's collective bell. When her big belting voice went into overdrive on the absurd ditty between her and Biggley, "Love From A Heart Of Gold," I thought the man sitting in front of me was going to lose it; indeed, the entire audience was in a state of manic elation, just what musical comedy is supposed to deliver.
Rick Paul's absurdly cockeyed cartoon settings framed in stock quotations, moved the multi-scene comedy at a break neck pace; Elizabeth Parent's costumes, while not always coordinated, nevertheless imparted a clashy comedic punch, aided as they were by Peter Pfeil's tickled pink lighting.
A Problematic
Hamlet
at Tulane
One does not usually associate avoirdupois with melancholia. One does not usually associate Africa with Denmark; and, one does not usually associate the act of pulling one's hair with baldness and yet all three of these dichotomies arise in Aimee Michel's casting of local actor Tony Molina in the role of Hamlet (currently trodding the boards of Hugh Lester's unit set at Tulane's Lupin Theatre), for Mr. Molina is a short, stout African-American actor whose bald pate gives him a certain Mr. Clean aspect that costumer Amela Baksic's black silk frock coat artfully hides until, three hours into the production, it is removed revealing a white turtleneck sweater as Mr. Molina/Hamlet sweats through a fight scene to the (unsullied, anticlimactic) death (choreographed by Tony Simotes) with Gavin Mahlie's Laertes.
After three hours of bluff and gruff and then a fight scene with real broadswords, there is no blood - not even rose petals or red ribbons - nada. Talk about anti-climax!!
Although Mr. Molina is an excellent actor who has proved his Shakespearean chops in the past in more physically agreeable roles, this bit of "nontraditional" casting of such a major role in such a major play begs the question, "why?" Obviously politics is at work here. Mr. Molina declaims, along with his fellow actors, in a general American accent, stressing hard "r's," so that the innate melodiousness of Shakespeare's verse is flattened. In the speaking department, Mr. Molina is no James Earl Jones.
Still, Mr. Molina has run with his good fortune, and owns this daunting role with a self-assurance that is mesmerizing, if not nuanced. This feat alone is praiseworthy. After all, he didn't cast himself.
Mr. Molina's larger-than-life presence, coupled with director Michel's curious presentational choices for Hamlet's seven soliloquies, robs the character/play of its unique interior life and magnifies the revenge tragedy armature upon which this, Shakespeare's greatest accomplishment, is built.
A soliloquy is indicated every time amber-gelled fresnels illuminate the audience - a way of involving us in Hamlet's internal thought processes. Indeed, the actor has even been blocked to accost front row audience members in a later aria, causing one terrified female audience member to shrink in terror. So instead of witnessing a human being in the state of mental collapse, agonizing over life and death decisions, the extended soliloquies become asides and lose some of their beauty and a lot of their power. They seem to be extending the endless plotting of the revenge-filled son who would destroy his uncle Claudius who has murdered his father and married his mother. This son is not wishy-washy - he always seems to be scheming.
Others in the cast fair much better and fit their parts more traditionally, especially the seemingly debonair Polonius of Patrick McNamara, a distinguished-looking, grey-haired gentlemen whose glib, motor-mouth royal counselor is a delight. His mentally frail daughter Ophelia is perfectly delineated by Andrea Frankle. Jerry Lee Leighton plays three parts admirably: the ghost of Hamlet's father, the Player King (with Shelly Poncy's Player Queen) and, most winningly, the comic relief Gravedigger.
One must also mention Gary Rucker's Rosencrantz and Donald Lewis' Guildenstern, Ron Gural's distracted Claudius, and Dane Rhodes' self-effacing Horatio, Hamlet's only true friend.
Hugh Lester's unit set, with its black and white backdrop of swirling clouds upon which is superimposed, to one side and much smaller, a copy of this skyscape in color, framed by a series of red-painted stick frames, the smallest and most upstage of which serves as the arras or tapestry behind which Polonius hides in full view, is interesting, in a Dali-esque way. Unfortunately, when extras are arrayed around the periphery of the raised stage, standing on the steps leading to its top, they invariably block some audience members' view of the action upstage.
The production also boasts an original musical score by Stephen T. Thomas which involves an amplified acoustic guitar and a percussionist. Although complimentary and judiciously used, these sounds nevertheless call attention to themselves and blot out text on more than one occasion.
Ms. Baksic's costumes are an eclectic mix of contemporary and non-period, with the male leads wearing contemporary shirts, pants and shoes or boots, mixed with stiff, silk frock coats that curiously give the production an Arabian look, especially the bizarre collars for Claudius and Fortinbras, and the stiff lavender Thai silk ensemble created for Clare Moncrief's crisply distracted Gertrude.
Marlene Dietrich Returns!!
Barbara Motley, the proprietor of the hot cabaret Le Chat Noir on St. Charles Ave., announces that she's booked the incredible New York female impersonator Jamie Beaman for a return engagement of his wonderful act built around Marlene Dietrich that awed, charmed and thoroughly entertained us last winter. Mr. Beaman will return with his musicians for one weekend only, Sept. 13, 14 & 15, and reservations are now being taken at 504.581.5812. This guy is unique and not to be missed.
Meanwhile, Carl Walker's third edition of Native Tongues, a revue of monologues by and about characters who live in the area, has been extended through the month of July, Fri. & Sat. at 8pm and Sun. at 3pm.
Harold Evans, who had to drop out of the play at the very last moment due to illness, is now back with it and his monologue, "One Or Two Things I know About New Orleans," by Eric Overmyer will replace Shelley Herman Gillon's "The Crawfish Oratorio." Call 504.581.5812 for reservations.
