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Exhibitionism
JUNE 8, 1998:
Godspell '98: All for the Best
Godspell is kin to those meaningful Seventies musicals sprouting out of the chaos
inherent to the late Sixties. With the Vietnam War raging and the blossoming of a
socially conscious counterculture, the world was spinning furiously in search of
a spiritual epicenter. One product of such dire circumstances is Godspell, a musical
that chronicles the teachings of Jesus Christ and the last few days before his crucifixion.
Parables about loving your enemy and the importance of charity are told -- how else?
-- in song and dance as 12 disciples share and act out lessons with sometimes whimsical
and sometimes deadly serious themes. In subsequent years, many of the songs, written
by Stephen Schwartz, have burrowed their way into the lexicon of musical theatre
favorites -- heartfelt and snappy numbers like "Day by Day" and "All
for the Best." For their 40th Anniversary, then, it is appropriate that St.
Matthew's Episcopal Church has remounted this icon of Seventies sensibilities, culled
from the Gospel of St. Matthew itself, to celebrate. Following a somewhat muddled
beginning, in which unidentified characters sing somewhat incoherently about confusing
topics, the production plants two feet firmly on the ground with John the Baptist's
"Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord," sung with glorious clarity by Stewart
Johnson. The production moves solidly onward, with notable numbers including George
Farr's smooth, melodious tenor in "All Good Gifts" and the always engaging
Janis Stinson's lush, seductive rendition of "Turn Back, O Man." Other
unexpected delights abound, from Jason Amato's subtle but effective lighting to the
sheer, unflagging earnestness of each cast member. And the visual trick of the play's
last few moments, executed seamlessly, is a rare treat. But the production is set
in a church, and so some technical problems arise, not the least of which is a few
voices that can't make it over a loud in-house drum machine. Director Dennis L. Whitehead
has skillfully utilized the rather unpliable space, but the vision of a "Godspell
for the Nineties" isn't entirely realized. Part of the appeal of the original
musical was the potency of the right message at the right time. And as part of this
overarching theme, Jesus and his disciples were portrayed as peace-loving flower
children, a reminder that Christianity had first been embraced by a disillusioned
fringe culture. Whitehead's production lacks the cohesion of social, spiritual, and
religious messages, so that while all the discrete elements are there, they don't
come together to make any equally exigent meaning. The cast has good-natured fun
with references to Jan and Marsha Brady, Cher, consumer culture, and the high price
of movie tickets, but the only visual sign of the times is that Jesus and most of
his disciples look like they just returned from a dress rehearsal for Rent. This
doesn't make the show any less enjoyable. But in forfeiting the opportunity to make
Godspell not only look like the Nineties but also be socially relevant to it, St.
Matthew's may find itself (literally) preaching to the converted. --Sarah Hepola
Our Town: Past Connections
I must be the last person in America who had never seen Our Town. The closest
I ever came to actually glimpsing that staple of high school theatre, that cliché
of modern stage, that ubiquitous drama so trite and overdone that the mere name elicits
knowing groans of exasperation was an episode of Growing Pains I saw in which Mike
got the lead role and learned a great deal about life and himself. If, like me, you
still remain unschooled in Thornton Wilder's most famous play, it revolves around
a quiet, unassuming New Hampshire town. And if, like me, you've never experienced
it, you really should. Covering the time from 1901-1913, it is a glimpse at a moment
before the world was rent with two world wars, a time when your word was good, when
the touch of a girl's hand could send a boy trembling, and plans for the future were
sealed by youngsters over an ice cream soda. Through three acts we watch this town
and its citizens emerge cautiously into a more industrialized world, navigated by
the Stage Manager (gracefully played by Sharon Elmore). As young George (Daniel Mussey)
and Emily (Jackie Belvin) fall in love, as they emerge into adults, and as they cope
with life's inevitable tragedies, Our Town stresses the connections we share
with each other, with our past, with our future, and with the unknown that exists
far beyond.
The look and feel of Third Corner's production is right on -- softly lit, dreamy,
vaguely nostalgic, and wide-eyed. And most of the actors manage to deliver the overearnest
lines without trespassing into "aw-shucks" hokiness. Especially effective
is Jackie Belvin, whose even-handed portrayal of the wistful Emily never wavers in
believability. She combines wholesomeness, vulnerability, and genuine hope in a way
endemic to that moment of America's past. It is no mistake that Wilder ended his
play the year before the outbreak of World War I, when our country's fragile trust
in man's goodness would be forever shaken.
The disconcerting part of Our Town, then, is its mystifying assertion, published
in the "Director's Notes," that "the participants of the production
are of a different time, perhaps the future.... You can call it post-apocalyptic
if you want to, but the point is, this could be Yugoslavia, Rwanda, wherever."
Small cues are littered throughout the play to indicate this is not necessarily New
Hampshire. The starkest of these is the live tableau onstage for audience members
to watch before the play begins, a curious collection of ragged, Dickensian children
mutely watching a documentary on the Industrial Revolution and eating out of tin
cans. A stirring beginning... but to what? Not this play. Instead of enriching the
meaning, these serve to undercut its significance, throwing a monkey wrench in each
resonant moment. Director Shelby Brammer is hoping to underscore the eternal and
universal inherent in Wilder's play, but she accomplishes that without pushing it
to illogical extremes. In the end, the post-apocalyptic hook seems superficial, an
excuse to produce a play many might say needs a modern twist. If it were up to me,
I'd rather see more plays like Our Town -- sweet, warm, and profound -- and less blathering
on about the apocalypse. --Sarah Hepola
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