A sad disappointment. The show has been composed almost as a sung-through piece, near opera in impact. And the ham-fisted staging crowds and weakens that aspect of the material at every turn. It should be performed with some openness, given some neutral space around all of the unleashed emotion. However the set worked at Williamstown, at PH it looks like a college production of COMPANY, skeletal fire-escapes on movable wagons that are unwieldy, ungainly, visually devoid of specifics to establish time and place, and claustrophobic. They so block the projections (on Mondrian-styled panels), we end up without a strong sense of atmosphere. I felt I couldn't fully judge the material locked inside this prosaic, constrictive staging. But the biggest problem in the adaptation is excessive fidelity to the screenplay. Material that might've been better served by streamlining and compression is slavishly recreated, as if following the film almost scene by scene was dictated. Telling the story in a few set pieces -- particularly as opposed to the jarring, disjointed second act -- would've helped enormously.
In the plus column: the score, an ambitious beauty, with smart lyrics that never devolve into camp or soap opera (no mean feat). I hope it's recorded, and given new life in a new production. Individual numbers will live on, certainly. And Kelli O'Hara and Steven Pasquale give impassioned, gorgeosly sung, just about perfect performances a Cathy and Frank. To me Frank is the best realized of the three main characters, oddly enough, given a 2nd act epiphany that takes this tortured man far deeper than Quaid was allowed to go. Raymond has been given the show's most haunting song, the first closer, "The Only One" (dueted with O'Hara) and sings it persuasively. Yet I didn't find the character as compelling, oddly enough, and still haven't decided how much of it is in the material's problematic resolution and how much is the performer. Isaiah Johnson is a gifted singing actor, but I missed a sense of gravitas that Haysbert brought to the role in the film, and emotional compatibility with O'Hara. I didn't feel the stakes in Cathy and Raymon's life-altering romnce. Nancy Anderson, an actor/performance everyone seems to adore here, didn't work for me in the Patricia Clarkson role. She's almost arch, and the friendship doesn't seem grounded in Eleanor's earnestness. She's more of a nosy, pushy intruder than one of Cathy's intimates, even though they've given her a strong number to suggest otherwise. Like Frank's, it deepens Eleanor. But Anderson is scarily, aggressively too intense to make us feel much. When she finally turns on Cathy, it hardly surprises us (she's been chilly all along), the way it does when Clarkson's wall goes up in the film.
I have many other thoughts, but I think in fairness I finally just couldn't let go of my expectations. (As much of the above clearly demonstrates.) I wanted to see the film re-imagined entirely, visually and otherwise, and move me in the same ways. Just didn't happen, despite the glories in the score and most of the performances. I don't think it's appropriate to compare the show inordinately to the film; yet it's unavoidable, producing a quandary for die hard fans.
One quibble: no number for Sybil, or even a duet with Cathy. That relationship -- a white employer and her black maid, critcal to the theme and plot -- cries out for musicalization, yet is curiously missing entirely. And the children are given too much stage time, in light of their repetitive material.
"I'm a comedian, but in my spare time, things bother me." Garry Shandling
Updated On: 5/27/13 at 12:39 PM