TUTS productions a pleasure

CYNTHIA RAMSAY

Both tragedies and comedies portray a reversal of fortune. In a tragedy, a heroic, larger-than-life character is brought to ruination, even death, by some fatal flaw or mistake of his own doing. In a comedy, an average person (or, more often, an outcast) transforms into a hero and achieves some level of prosperity or happiness hitherto unknown to him. With its selections of Titanic: A New Musical and Music Man, Theatre Under the Stars has chosen prime examples of each genre – and executes them masterfully.

It’s the 100th anniversary since the Titanic hit an iceberg on her maiden voyage and sank in the Atlantic, on her way to New York from Southampton, England. The luxurious “floating city” represented, among other things, the triumph of mankind’s ingenuity, the zenith of the industrial age. The largest man-made object ever to set sail, it was “practically unsinkable” and yet it did just that, in less than three hours, with the majority of its “watertight” compartments at the front of the hull breached from the impact with the iceberg. More than 1,500 passengers and crew died.

It’s a tragic story that’s been told many times in many ways, and we all know how it ends, so it was a pleasant surprise – even though Titanic won five Tony Awards in 1997, including best score and best musical – to enjoy the TUTS’s production so much.

Directed and choreographed by Max Reimer, TUTS’s Titanic has more the feel of a play than a musical. The choreography is minimal; only near the end of Act 1, with the song “Doing the Last Rag,” is there anything resembling a dance, and this seems a half-hearted effort. Other songs would have lent themselves to a rousing number or a romantic interlude, which would have reinforced the emotional swells that the dialogue provides, with its humorous and touching moments. But the direction is top-notch, with the transitions between scenes timed perfectly, and the actors engaging with each other convincingly, making the audience care about their characters’ fates even though their personalities/histories are but sketches.

There are incredibly sung solos, duets, trios and choral pieces, under the direction of Kevin Michael Cripps. The musical is at its most impressive when the full cast and orchestra are united, but there are several remarkable vocal performances: “Barrett’s Song” by Sayer Roberts as Frederick Barrett, one of the ship’s stokers; “What a Remarkable Age This Is!” sung by the first-class passengers with steward Henry Etches (played by Seth Little); “The Proposal/The Night Was Alive,” a duet with Roberts, sending a proposal to his girlfriend via telegraph, and Alexander Nicoll as Harold Bride, the ship’s radio and telegraph operator who is so taken with the technology that he sings it a love song; “Staircase,” sung by the character of Jim Farrell (played by Peter Boychuk) and the “three Kates,” led by Michelle Bardach as Kate McGowan, with Jeannette Gibault (as Kate Mullins) and Alex Gullason (as Kate Murphey), who are trying to find a way out from the third-class compartments as the ship sinks; “The Blame,” sung by ship architect Thomas Andrews (played by Steven Greenfield), Capt. Edward Smith (Russell Roberts) and White Star Line managing director J. Bruce Ismay (Alexander McMorran) about which one of them is responsible for the tragedy; and “Mr. Andrews’ Vision,” in which Andrews, among the mayhem, is madly redrawing the ship’s plans with changes that could have prevented the sinking, while a video screen at the back of the stage provides an image of the changes he is making to the design plans.

Even when the singing isn’t stellar, the acting more than compensates. David Adams and Deborah Allman as Isidor and Ida Straus make for a charming couple. Even out of tune, their duet, “Still,” is very touching and, when Isidor takes a champagne glass, wraps it in a napkin and breaks it underfoot, recalling the day when they were married, it is one of the many details that makes this production a cut above. Another moment that will send shivers well after the show is over is the scene behind Andrews during the song “Mr. Andrews’ Vision” – on the boat deck, people are desperately trying to stay above the water as the ship sinks, but the deck angle has become so steep that they keep falling down the incline, past others trying to ascend it.

There are several other entertaining performances, including that of Stefanie Swinnard as Alice Beane, a second-class passenger who aspires to the first-class life, and Luke Day as the epitome of an aged colonial soldier reliving his glory days by recounting his stories of conquest to unappreciative listeners. And, of course, all of the production’s creative team should be commended, especially Lauchlin Johnston for the innovative sets and the video images and Chris Sonosich for the period costumes, from the elegant ballroom wear to the crew’s uniforms to the third-class passenger attire.

Sonosich – with con man Harold Hill’s colorful suits, librarian and piano teacher Marian Paroo’s prim and proper dresses and the band’s striking uniforms – and Johnston – with xylophone-shaped benches, harp-inspired porches, drum-based stages and the like – also excel at their respective crafts in The Music Man, keeping the 1912 Iowa setting and the music/band theme at the forefront.

The show begins even before it begins, when Chris Adams, in character as Marcellus, comes onstage to share with the audience some of the notable events of the year (1912), as well as to inform them of the prohibition of taking photographs during the performance and request that they turn off their phones – all in terms that would be understandable to an audience of 1912, and which sets the tone for the humor and energy to follow.

As the overture begins, the curtain remains only partially raised, revealing actors’ legs from the knee down, as they dance, at times alone and in groups, from one end of the stage to the other. Once the curtain is completely raised, the actors are in place on a railway coach evoked by a few boxes and the actors’ motions, ready for a fast-paced rendition of “Rock Island,” a spoken-word song delivered with impeccable timing and enunciation, which explains the musical’s premise and introduces Hill.

As with most musicals, the premise of The Music Man is weak. Hill’s scam is very labor-intensive relative to the payout. In the name of wanting to protect their children from trouble – bad influences that arise from boredom or, in the case of River City, Iowa, a new pool table in town – Hill pretends to be a band organizer. He sells the parents instruments and music books (and, on this venture, uniforms as well) for their kids. While they wait for these items to arrive, Hill hangs around town, ostensibly teaching the kids how to play the instruments with a unique approach called “the think method,” i.e. there is no instruction, the kids simply have to think of the song they wish to play and, lo and behold, they will be able to play it when the instruments arrive. Usually, by the time the band must perform, Hill has left town, supposedly before the parents angrily realize that he hasn’t taught the kids a thing – yet, the instruments, music and uniforms all do arrive, so it doesn’t seem like that big of a scam.

However, all of this doesn’t really matter, as the main attractions of The Music Man – which won numerous Tony Awards both in 1958, for the original, and in 2000, for the revival – are the music, the lyrics and some very funny one-liners in between the well-known songs (“(Ya Got) Trouble,” “Goodnight, My Someone,” “Pickalittle (Talk-a-Little),” “Gary, Indiana,” etc., etc.).

TUTS director Sarah Rodgers, choreographer Dayna Tekatch and music director Christopher King do a commendable job of making old material fresh and the evening goes by quickly and merrily, with actors Daren Herbert as Hill and Samantha Currie as Marian leading the way. The two are not only very talented singers and dancers, but they work well together, making believable Hill’s nascent conscience and Marian’s increasing openness as they fall in love with each other.

Adding some gravity to the lightweight plot is the character of Winthrop – played ably and adorably by Jewish community member Aidan Wessels, who is a mere nine years old. Winthrop is Marian’s much-younger brother, who not only still mourns their father’s death but also has a fear of talking because he has a lisp, for which people tease him. It is Hill’s ability to bring Winthrop out of his shell that ultimately convinces Marian of the con man’s goodness within. Marian’s mother – not greatly sung, but acted to wonderful comic effect by Barbara Pollard – is less discerning, worried that Hill, “that stranger ... with the suitcase” might be her overly selective daughter’s last chance at marriage (Marian’s already 26, after all).

Other highlights include Gordon Doerkson as the bumbling bumpkin Mayor Shinn and Christina Wells Campbell as his diva wife Eulalie, who leads the hilarious group of gossipy townswomen; Keira Jang as Amaryllis, who has a crush on Winthrop; and David Cotton, Taylor Lewis, Allen Upward and Dave Vincent, the four school-board members who are diverted from their task of looking into Hill’s credentials (and from their dislike of each other) by the joy they derive from singing barbershop together – a newfound joy to which Hill introduces them.

All in all, Theatre Under the Stars has two very different productions on offer this year, both well worth seeing. For clips, visit youtube.com/watch?v=tzLzfd5lQWw for Titanic and youtube.com/watch?v=xIxFHTXtMow for Music Man. For more information on the shows – which run till Aug. 18 – and for tickets, visit tuts.ca.

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