BLO's "In the Penal Colony": Harrowing Punishment

(From top) Yury Yanowsky, Neal Ferreira & David McFerrin in "In the Penal Colony"
(photo: T. Charles Erickson)

One would be hard pressed to imagine a more challenging venue for attending an opera than the Cyclorama Building in Boston's South End, but that's precisely where Boston Lyric Opera's current production, “In the Penal Colony”, is being performed. A one-act chamber opera by Phillip Glass, with a libretto by Rudolph Wurlitzer (in English), it was first produced in 2000 in Seattle. It's about eighty minutes long; Glass termed it his “pocket opera”. Based on Kafka's 1914 dystopian short story, it features a death machine, namely a harrow, a farm implement with spike-like teeth intended to level soil, but used for medieval torture. It's at the center of this dark tale of the breakdown of civil society, about crime and unusual punishment, set in a penal colony. Written and composed to feature three performers and a string quintet (two violins, viola, cello, and bass), the work turned out to be a perfect choice for this venue (as part of the BLO's Opera Annex program), thanks to some ingenuity on the part of the creative team, especially in overcoming potential acoustical concerns.

The story begins as a Visitor (tenor Neal Ferreira) arrives at the penal colony, invited by its new commander to witness an execution, conducted by the Officer (baritone David McFerrin), of a Man (actor Yury Yanowsky). The condemned man doesn't know his fate and has had no chance to defend himself; “guilt is always beyond doubt”. The machine is constructed to emboss a description of the man's crime into his flesh during twelve hours of torture until the “transfiguring moment of redemption as the victim realizes the nature of his crime”. The Visitor is appalled but feels he has no right to intervene. When the machine malfunctions, the Officer frees the prisoner, climbs in, and discovers that “he never found what he sought and what all the others found...no sign of redemption...none at all”.

Throughout the piece, with its pulsating “ostinatos” (Glass' typical musical perseverations), ranging from forceful surges to more meditative calm, with its plaintive sections for the violins, inquiring cello, and sudden pauses, there was conveyed a feeling of dread, most especially with the abrupt silence after the climax. Thanks in large part to the superb interpretation of Conductor Ryan Turner and his quintet, and the marvelous Stage Direction by R.B. Schlather, with effective Set Design by Julia Noulin-Merat, clever Costume Design by Terese Wadden and wondrously original Lighting Design by JAX Messinger, this was a somewhat creepy and chilling experience, precisely as it was intended to be. McFerrin and Ferreira were both in fine voice, managing to fill the hall with their intensely dramatic singing and movement, which also involved former Boston Ballet star Yanowsky, a tremendous asset to the performance. The efforts of the entire team made for an unforgettable production. Even the surtitles (by John Conlin and Allison Voth) became an integral part of this portrayal of a disintegrating society.

Some of the audience may not have been devotees of the composer's oeuvre before this; this brief but spellbinding opera could break that Glass ceiling. It's arguably his most approachable music, and, as presented by the BLO, a true triumph in the company's history.

Curtain Call's "Next to Normal": Still Poles Away from the Norm

Sam Patch, Steve Perry & Ann McCoy in "Next to Normal"
(photo: Curtain Call Theatre)

It isn't the norm for this blog site to review community theatre productions, as they rightfully require that they be seen through a different lens from that employed in assessing more “professional” efforts. A rare exception is Curtain Call's current production (in Braintree), the musical “Next to Normal”, which merits consideration right up there with previous versions seen on Broadway and in a regional Boston company. As noted by this critic in the past, this 2009 Broadway musical is poles away from typical musical fare, especially in its subject matter, about a damaged woman suffering from what was once called manic-depressive mental illness. It defies classification just as it (almost) defies description. In its defiantly through-composed form it is undeniably operatic, but its story is intimate and immediate. Its music (deservedly honored with Tony awards for both score and orchestration) is modern but not really rock, powerful and memorable. Yet, even with some three dozen musical numbers, it yields not a single stand-alone standard. While it has moments of humor, mostly in the form of irony, it is decidedly not a musical comedy; rather, it’s the theater’s first truly bipolar musical, in more ways than two. It is also one of the few musicals ever to win the Pulitzer Prize for drama, a feat matched only three times in the last three decades, the others being “Rent” and “Sunday in the Park with George”, and only eight times in the entire history of the Pulitzer. Nominated for eleven Tony Awards, it won only three. It was the year of “Billy Elliot” (which shared the award for orchestration with “Next to Normal”) which had fifteen Tony nominations and won ten of them.

In this production, Director Jim Sullivan has assembled an astonishing cast, led by Ann McCoy as Diana, the bipolar wife and mother. From the moment she sang the show's opening line, “They're the perfect loving family”, it was clear that one would be witnessing a stellar performance. McCoy shares the stage with an incredibly talented ensemble. In this version, we truly feel the pain shared by the whole family as they deal with her inability to cope, to think, to feel. Above all, “Next to Normal” is about being there for one another. Sam Patch, as her treasured son Gabe, whom she insists must be there for her, Meghan Ryan as Natalie, her almost invisible daughter, craving the attention that her mother completely sucks out of the atmosphere, and Bryan George Rowell as Henry, Natalie’s unflaggingly sweet boyfriend, are all unforgettable. Kevin Fortin ably fills the roles of two of Diana’s practitioners. Then there is Steve Perry as Dan, the faithful husband and father, whose survival depends on repression, what he calls a “slower suicide”; as he also sings, “who’s crazy, the one who can’t cope or maybe the one who’ll still hope?”. He's a perfect match for Patch's astounding voice, Rowell's sincere sensitivity and Ryan's heartbreaking vulnerability. It's a dream cast in a nightmarish story. It's gratifying to see the memorable work presented in this production. The music by Tom Kitt and book and lyrics by Brian Yorkey are perfectly served by Music Director Jose Merlo, Jr. and his musicians, terrific throughout their two-hour workout. The Lighting Design is by Mollie MacKenzie, Sound Design by Peter Kates, and Scenic Design by James Gross.

This is no romanticized view of mental illness and the stigma with which society often views it, but a balanced presentation of the complexity of treatments (including what used to be referred to as electric shock therapy) for bipolar disease. Medications are a trade-off, what with their frequent side effects, requiring intelligent choices. As Diana puts it when she is medicated to the point of not feeling anything, she misses the mountains, the magic of the manic days, as well as the pain. (Her therapist’s response to her lack of feeling: “patient stable”). She wonders “what happens if the cut, the burn, the break was never in my brain or in my blood but in my soul?”. Toward the end of the play, Diana, still wounded but hopeful, comes to a decision that rather than have chance take her, she’ll take a chance. Earlier she had said that she had “seen this movie, and I walked out”. As she carries out her decision, she sings that “the price of love is loss, but still we pay; the darkest sky will someday see the sun”. As Natalie put it, one doesn’t “need a life that’s normal, but something next to normal would be okay”. Though some hurt never heals, and some ghosts are never gone, in the end “there will be light”. In this production, there's more than enough wattage to fill the compact black box stage. In choosing such challenging material and presenting it so successfully, Curtain Call Theatre gives new meaning (and depth) to the term “community theatre”.

Fathom Events' Met Opera's "Tannhauser": Marathon Man

Johan Botha & Eva-Maria Westbroek in the Metropolitan Opera's "Tannhauser"
(photo: Marty Sohl)

It's been a decade or so since the Metropolitan Opera has revived their production of Wagner's mighty “Tannhäuser”. It's a favorite of Met Music Director James Levine, so it should be no surprise that he chose himself as its Conductor. The production by Otto Schenk is an aging one (almost forty years old in fact) but the freshness of the singers' voices was what made the day. Since it's been a while since the Met has presented the opera, perhaps a brief synopsis might be helpful.

Minnesinger Tannhäuser (tenor Johan Botha), after a year in the underground realm of Venus, Goddess of Love, (mezzo-soprano Michelle DeYoung), yearns to return to the human world, angering Venus. He enlists the aid of the Virgin Mary and is transported to a valley near Wartburg Castle (in medieval Germany). After some pilgrims on their way to Rome pass by, a hunting party of knights known to him and led by the Landgraf Herman (bass Günther Groissböck) arrives. One of them, Wolfram (baritone Peter Mattei), begs him to return with them, as Tannhäuser's singing once won him the love of Elisabeth (soprano Eva-Maria Westbroek), the Landgraf's niece. When Tannhäuser hears her name, he decides to join them. Back in the Hall of Song in Wartburg Elisabeth tells Tannhäuser how she has missed him and the Landgraf declares that love will be the subject of a song contest, with the winner able to request anything from Elisabeth. While Wolfram sings of idealized love, Tannhäuser sings of more earthly pleasures, ending with a prize song to Venus, horrifying the guests, which leads to the knights drawing swords against him. Elisabeth stands between them and begs mercy. Landgraf decrees that Tannhäuser may go free but only if he joins the pilgrims headed for Rome to do penance. At that, Tannhäuser falls at her feet, then rushes out. Months later, Wolfram finds Elisabeth praying at a shrine as a band of pilgrims passes her on their way back from Rome. Since Tannhäuser isn't among them, she prays that the Virgin Mary receive her into heaven. A lone pilgrim arrives; it is Tannhäuser. Having been told by the Pope that he could no more be forgiven than the papal staff sprout green growth again, he summons Venus, though Wolfram brings him to his senses by mentioning the name of Elisabeth. At that very moment, her funeral procession is wending its way past him and Venus cries out and disappears. Begging Elisabeth to pray for him in heaven, he collapses and dies. As dawn arises, another group of pilgrims passes, spreading the news of a miracle: the Pope's staff, which they are carrying, has blossomed.

The singing was exquisite, including DeYoung and Westbroek, but it was the male singers who truly shone. Botha was magnificent, as was Mattei, and even the mezzo shepherd solo by Ying Fang was memorable. Levine's love for the piece was evident in his wonderfully nuanced conducting. The Chorus under Chorusmaster Donald Palumbo once again stole the show. The Set Design was by Gunther Schneider-Siemssen, with the Costume Design by Patricia Zipprodt, the dark Lighting Design by Gil Wechsler and the Choreography by Norbert Vesak.

 

It was a marathon outing for both performers and musicians, not to mention the audience, a solid five hours, but worth every minute of it.

Huntington's "Choice": Wicked Good?

Johanna Day, Ken Cheeseman, Connie Ray & Munson Hicks in "Choice"
(photo: T. Charles Erickson)

What can one say about a play with a character named Zipporah “Zippy” Zunder? Zounds! It so happens that she's the main protagonist in Huntington Theatre Company's latest offering, a new play by Winnie Holzman (who wrote the Book for Wicked for the Broadway stage and My So-Called Life for television). Not long into the play (and thus this is not a spoiler) it's revealed that a successful journalist, the aforementioned Zippy (Johanna Day) is concerned with a new polarizing social phenomenon having to do with the belief that people can be reconnected with the souls of their aborted children (through an organization named CLAF, for “Children Lost and Found”). She's supported (or not) by friends and family, namely her aging husband Clark Plumly (Munson Hicks), her daughter and recent college grad Zoe (Madeline Wise) ), her best friend Erica (Connie Ray), Erica's boyfriend Mark (Ken Cheeseman) and Zippy's new assistant Hunter Rush (Raviv Ullman). The only other characters are The Other Mark (also played by Cheeseman) and Leah or Lena (Wise again). The place is identified in the program as “Near and in New York'; the time as “Now”. Advance word was that the work was to be about a woman's right to choose.

What it turns out to be about is an unpleasantly annoying group of people you wouldn't want to get stuck with at a cocktail party and whose idea of humor is making cruel fun of elderly issues like deafness and forgetfulness, and even one character's awkward recovery from a stroke. They all have an irritating tendency to interrupt one another or finish one another's sentences. While the actors are all fine (and much better than the material warrants), and Director Sheryl Kaller tries valiantly to construct a dramatic arc that's not there, the plot is just plain bizarre. Once in a great while there's a line with some import, such as Clark's admonition that “you don't get to finish everything”. More often there are such head-scratchers as “we made something not happen” and “that's so 'Freaky Friday' of us”, betraying a knack for successful situation comedy with a paranormal bent.

Kaller has stated that what Holzman is trying to say is “we create our choices”. And as Holzman herself has put it: “Our generation of women didn't really see having choices modeled”. She quotes her character Erica: “we looked at our mothers and we thought 'I can't live that life'. But then how am I going to live?”. The playwright deals with our choice to view ourselves and our past choices in a new light, but doesn't offer much insight. The creative team includes several Boston University alumni and faculty, such as Scenic Designer James Noone, Costume Designer Mariann S. Verheyen, and Lighting Designer Rui Rita, with Sound Design by Leon Rothenberg. All make positive contributions, most notably Noone, especially with his meticulously decorated, versatile kitchen about the size of the galley on a cruise ship.

Somewhere a playwright is composing a work that will tackle the problems of discrimination against women in its many guises and will actually pose questions about the ramifications of a soul surviving after an abortion (such as what sort of relationship would be appropriate, what responsibilities that might entail, and what impact that would have on both the philosophical and theological worlds). But this, disappointingly, isn't it. It was nonetheless a gutsy choice of a topic for a comedy, but not a wicked good one. Sondheim put it best (in the song “Move On” from Sunday in the Park with George): “I chose and my world was shaken. So what? The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not...you have to move on”. Sound advice for all concerned.

Speakeasy's "Casa Valentina": Crass Dressing?

Will McGarrahan, Sean McGuirk, Robert Saoud, Thomas Derrah & Eddie Shields
 in "Casa Valentina"
(photo: Glenn Perry)

What theater does best is transport us to places we can only imagine, expose us to people we find unfamiliar and fascinating at the same time, and provoke us to new ways of thinking. As the tagline for “Casa Valentina” puts it, this play is about “gender identity, self-acceptance and the struggle to find the right pumps”, thus establishing from the very beginning that this will be tragicomedy of a world alien indeed to most of us. It's SpeakEasy Stage Company's current production, a New England premiere, of Harvey Fierstein's Tony-nominated 2014 play. Based on material from the non-fiction book “Casa Susanna” by Michael Hurst and Robert Swope, it's the story of a group of men, self-described as heterosexual, who found a safe haven in a bungalow colony in the Catskills back in the early 60's for their shared unusual preference for cross-dressing, that is, dressing and acting as women. Fierstein has trod this sort of ground in previous works (such as La Cage aux Folles, Kinky Boots, and Torch Song Trilogy), but this tale takes us to a plane we've not been to before. And in truth, crass dressers they are not, as their accessories alone are to die for (for that period, that is); their choices in garb and in life are sensitive, by and large refined (with the exception of a schmata or two), and intelligent. It sure isn't Kansas.

The setting is the resort owned by George/Valentina (Thomas Derrah: “we are simply the outward expression of the interior female”) and his preternaturally understanding wife Rita (Kerry A. Dowling: “do you know what makes a man irresistible...thinking that you're the only woman in the world who understands him”). Huddled around and about are Bessie (Robert Saoud: “personally I think of being a boy as my day job”); the Judge/Amy (Timothy Crowe: “I stood staring at a gown open-mouthed with desire”); Jonathon/Miranda (Greg Maraio, quoting his wife: “any man who'd go to these lengths to make me laugh owns my heart forever”); Terry (Sean McGuirk: “oh, the terrible things I'd do to get punished and wear my precious gowns” when the common punishment was to demote a mischievous child back into petticoats); and Gloria (Eddie Shields: a hetero stud mesmerized by his women's “discarded clothing on the ground”). The seemingly close-knit troupe is about to be shaken and stirred by the arrival of Charlotte (Will McGarrahan: “I've gone to jail so that you don't have to...It's the curse of the Y chromosome and it's punishable by dearth..any male would have to be certifiable not to want to be female at least part time”). Charlotte has brought along his own political agenda, even though, as Bessie puts it, “politics and prosthetics don't mix”. And late in the play there's the sudden and invasive descent of the daughter of one of them, Eleanor (Deb Martin).

What develops among this group is almost subservient to the experience of sharing their alien world and how it functions (and at times dysfunctions). Strewn with hilarious one-liners and barbed banter, Fierstein's penchant for aiming for the jugular has never been as accurate and engrossing. Although the original Broadway run was a mere seventy-nine performances, it's a shame it didn't get more exposure, especially if it was enacted by a smashingly stellar stable of sequined stallions as this ensemble is. Led by Derrah in yet another deftly defiant portrayal in an incredibly prolific career, the cast effortlessly evades stereotyping even as they exemplify a rainbow of recognizable types. Dowling is the supportive partner personified, enhancing rather than enabling her spouse's dual lifestyle. Saoud spews devastatingly timed epigrammatic arrows (often thanks to a seemingly bottomless font of bons mots courtesy of Oscar Wilde) while McGuirk and Shields expertly parry them. Meanwhile, both Crowe and Maraio provide differing catalysts for what develops over what threatens to become a catastrophic weekend. Even Martin in a brief supporting role resonates. But it's McGarrahan who creates the juiciest character in perhaps his most memorable turn in an extraordinarily versatile professional history. As terrifically directed by Scott Edmiston, there's not a single false note, even when Fierstein goes quite a bit melodramatic near the close of the play. The creative team is also in synch. From the wonderfully evocative multi-level Scenic Design by Janie E. Howland, to the perfectly chosen Costume Design by Gail Astrid Buckley, to the effective Lighting Design by Karen Perlow and Sound Design by Dewey Dellay, this is an eminently watchable production.

All of this would be reason enough to see this show if it were solely dependent on its humor, but even more lies in store for any theatergoer hungry for heartbreaking humanity and heart. In very subtle ways (such as presenting some characters only in their cross-dressed selves, and identifying these characters in the cast list only by their female names), Fierstein conveys that even though they have a lot they have shared among themselves, they discover that they don't know one another as well as they had assumed. Add to this the growing realization that, as accepting as they are of their own enclave, there lies beneath many of their facades an ugly undercurrent of latent homophobia. McGarrhan's character in particular prophesizes (quite inaccurately, as it happens) the future marginalization of homosexuals alongside the (even more inaccurate) eventual acceptance of the cross-dressing alternate lifestyle.

This is easily the best reason for going to regional theater this season. It's what theater is all about. You'll laugh until your corset hurts and cry until your mascara runs, but if you miss this one you have only yourself to blame. And let's not hear another word about your not having a thing to wear.

Lyric's "Saturday Night/Sunday Morning": Weak End

Jasmine Rush, Meagen Dilworth, Keith Mascoll & Cloteal L. Horne in "Sat.Night/Sun.Morning"
(photo: Glenn Perry)

The current production from Lyric Stage Company, Katori Hall's “Saturday Night/Sunday Morning”, raises pressing issues. That's “pressing” as in the historically common process of straightening the hair of African Americans. Hall has stated that she believes that because she is an actor as well as a playwright, she tends to base her characters on real people, and her play initially seems to succeed at capturing a group of believable people in a setting that is sure to prove revelatory for many audience members, namely a Memphis beauty salon in 1945. She spends the first act presenting the beauty parlor as a cultural center, where gossip and community information provide a source for both camaraderie and activism, through the interactions of seven women. As Directed by Dawn M. Simmons, the setting is conducive to the playwright's satirical intent. Beneath the superficial level of heated metal combs and harsh chemicals, there are a number of other pressing issues threatening to surface.

Miss Mary (Jasmine Rush), proprietress of Miss Mary's Press n' Curl, at one point asks “who's ready to get burnt?”, which can be taken several ways. There's the literal sense of the cruel physical procedure, as exemplified by two of her boarders, Taffy (Meagen Dilworth) and Mabel (Cloteal L. Horne), not to mention customers Dot (Ramona Lisa Alexander) and Jackie (Jackie Davis). But there's also the more metaphorical sense as in the portrayals of vulnerable fellow boarder Leanne (Jade Guerra) and new arrival Gladys (Tasia A. Jones). Their almost impenetrably female world is from time to time interrupted by the appearance of their mailman Buzz (Keith Mascoll), whose polio rendered him undraftable, and remembered images of Leanne's enlisted beau Bobby (Omar Robinson). For the most part, this is clearly not a man's world, as evidenced by some of the best lines, such as Mary's rule that “boarders shall not bitch” or her depiction of her salon as “half fixin' hair, half fixin' poor souls”, or Mabel's contention: “men always better when they away”. It's also of course not an integrated world in those times, as demonstrated by their keen awareness of “colorism”, prejudice against darker skins, with lighter skins associated with privilege and beauty.

The depiction of a world totally alien to the majority of theatergoers will be fascinating for them as it is familiar for the minority, at least for the duration of the first act, which qualifies as insightful social satire (though a good deal of dialogue is lost in the dialects, especially in the rapid fire banter at the very beginning). The problem is that, with the arrival of the second act, the playwright has seemingly transported us to a different play, more melodramatic than ironic. There's also a jarring scene of magical realism that is inconsistent with the integrity of the play as a whole. This shift of tone is also accompanied by a shift in focus as a new central character emerges, though this, and a major reveal that accompanies it, won't come as a surprise if you've been paying attention to how Hall and the actors telegraph it. Fortunately, the whole cast is so fine that it doesn't ruin the effect of the author's purposes. As Hall has also noted, it's about not trying to “live up to some other standard; the heart of this play (is to) be true to yourself in all its manifestations”. The technical crew are all in keeping with Lyric's usual level, from the wonderful Scenic Design by Mac Young, to the Costume Design by Elisabetta Polito, Lighting Design by Ian W. King and Sound Design by Kelsey Jarboe.

Hall's play (as is true in her other work, “The Mountaintop”) is evidence that a major talent is developing and deserves to be heard. Though it stops, rather than ends, in a disappointingly flat manner, it will have been a worthy and welcome exposure to a hitherto unexplored segment of our country's formative years. Sometimes the devil is in the details of everyday life that mirror the revolutionary winds of social change. Pressing issues, indeed.

Goodspeed's "Wonderful Life": Only 62 Shopping Days...

The Cast of Goodspeed's "A Wonderful Life"
(photo: Diane Sobolewski)

You'd be hard pressed to find a stage of any size anywhere in this country that could match the performing triple threat talent (actors/singers/dancers) on view in Goodspeed Musicals' “A Wonderful Life”. The tale has a fabled history, having first seen life as far back as 1943, as two hundred holiday greetings in the form of a very short story, “The Greatest Gift”, sent to friends by the author, Philip Van Doren Stern. Frank Capra took the work and made it into his 1947 film “It's a Wonderful Life”. Though its initial reception was mixed in the U.S. (it won not a single Oscar), and negative in the U.K., its annual Christmas showing on television led to its becoming one of the most beloved films of all time, as noted by Jeanine Basinger in her “The 'It's a Wonderful Life' Book”. It was subsequently adapted for the stage as a musical in 1991, by the team of Joe Raposo (Music) and the prolific Sheldon Harnick (Book and Lyrics). Consisting of some thirty scenes, it was performed in numerous venues over time, and recently revised by Harnick for this production. Its simple (some might say simplistic) treatment of the way different people view the American Dream (happiness, owning a home, or material wealth) struck a chord with audiences then and now. One's enjoyment of this version will no doubt be influenced by her or his feelings about the sentiment or sentimentality in the original film, as this show is by and large quite faithful to its source.

The protagonist's sense of failure and having wasted his time, an individual's belief in himself, the social ideal of egalitarianism vs. capitalism (with its goal of material prosperity), and ultimately one's finding a place where she or he belongs, are all themes explored by this seemingly lightweight story. Often maligned in its various iterations, there is more to this story than initially meets the eye. Underlying the central narrative is the knowledge that the choices one makes in life determine more than we realize, for ourselves and also for others. This musical version has been described as a “romantic tragicomedy”. It may well be time to take a a second look at the wonder behind a life, or as Capra put it, the worth of the individual, quoting the fifteenth century writer Fra Giovanni Giocondo: “There is a radiance and glory in the darkness could we but see...and to see we have only to look”.

The story, in case you're not familiar with it, (what, you never turned on the TV at Christmas?) takes place in Bedford Falls, New York (1928-1945) where the Bailey Building and Loan Association employs family man and banker George Bailey (Duke Lafoon) who long ago longed to travel, go to college and become an architect. All of these goals went unmet thanks to his other priorities, namely the family bank and the family itself. He did manage to marry the shy but lovely Mary Hatch (Kirsten Scott) and have three children. But it was his ne'er-do-well younger brother Harry (Logan James Hall) who got to see the world, and his chum Sam Wainwright (Josh Franklin) who seems to have it all. It's no wonder that George, contemplating suicide, needs a visit from apprentice Guardian Angel Second Class Clarence (Frank Vlastnik), himself in need of earning his wings. Clarence shows George what the world would have been like if he'd never been born, and what the town would have been like if the miserly old banker Mr. Potter (Ed Dixon) had gotten his way. George also sees how he's influenced the lives of many of his neighbors, from Bert the cop (Kevin C. Loomis) to Ernie the taxi driver (Ryan G. Dunkin) to his scatterbrained Uncle Billy (Michael Medeiros) to his matriarchal mother Millie (Bethe B. Austin). By the end, it's no surprise when Clarence is awarded those wings by Executive Angel Matthew (George McDaniel, who also plays George's father Tom Bailey and bartender Mr. Martini).

While the performers are (as Mr. Potter's song puts it) “First Class All the Way”, unfortunately the Book and Score are not. Although Harnick has made a noble effort to reinvent the more maudlin aspects of the story (with some awful puns such as “Frank Lloyd Wrong”, and many predictable rhyming lyrics), the show is hampered by Raposo's largely mediocre score. Only a couple of songs (“Wings” and “In a State”) stand out in the threadbare musical numbers. Director Michael Perlman has stated that the creative team envisioned their approach to the work as that of snow globes into the lives and very souls of the townfolk (reflected, as it were, in the collage of windows in the disappointingly spare Set Design by Brian Prather). As such it became for them a timeless piece, (as Perlman puts it, “at once familiar and new”), though period elements appear in the briefly enjoyable Choreography by Parker Esse (who devised the more extensive dancing in Goodpeed's “Fiddler on the Roof” last year), and the evocative Costume Design by Jennifer Caprio (from the 20's to the 40's). The fine Orchestrations are by Dan DeLange, with the smooth Musical Direction by Michael O'Flaherty (in his twenty-fourth season with the company). The Lighting Design by Scott Bolman and Sound Design by Jay Hilton (which could use some tweaking with the balance of singers and orchestra) are up to Goodspeed's usual level.

The musical's central character, George, had never grasped his influence on the lives of others, how his efforts made owning a home possible for so many of his neighbors, and how he's made use of his life to effect the greater good of his community. He's never seen personal wealth as an end in itself, or the lives of others as commodities. But he's reminded by Clarence that “no man is a failure who has friends”. This is of course followed by the sound of that tinkling bell signaling that another angel (guess who) has just received his wings. Those who love the film will be delighted with this version; those with a low treacle tolerance will not.