By Show and Tell
By Bree Davies
By Bree Davies
By Cory Casciato
By Emilie Johnson
By Robin Edwards
By Bree Davis
By Josiah M. Hesse
Local theatergoers may not have quite as many entertainment choices, but lately the quality of available musicals seems to be on the rise. In addition to the engaging assortment of touring shows that play the Buell or Auditorium theaters downtown, two local groups are presenting productions that, at times, rival the best that Broadway has to offer. Both shows are revivals of decades-old love stories; both feature first-rate portrayals by performers whose acting abilities sometimes outshine their singing and dancing talents; and both pay homage to richly melodic scores that are easy on the ears.
Perhaps best of all for local audiences, though, is that these sensational productions are playing in venues not often thought of as sources of highbrow entertainment. One of the local groups is a semiprofessional troupe dedicated to the production of neglected musicals; the other is a suburban dinner theater.
Always eager to shed new light on the dust-covered showtunes of yesteryear, Boulder's Trouble Clef Theatre Company has resurrected She Loves Me, which first graced the Broadway stage in a 1963 production directed by musical-theater legend Harold Prince. Written by Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick (the same creative team that produced Fiddler on the Roof), the musical is based on Miklos Laszlo's play Parfumerie. Under the skillful direction of Donald Berlin, it wins over hearts from the first moment the superb Jennifer Hayes bursts into song.
The action takes place primarily in a perfume shop in 1930s Budapest, Hungary, where a rather plain girl, Amalia Balash (Hayes), unexpectedly falls in love with her boss, Georg Nowack (David Ambroson), and he with her. Trouble is, the two lovebirds don't realize that they're sending their anonymous, tender notes to each other. Instead, the unwitting pen pals compose letters to supposed strangers with the salutation, "Dear Friend." Georg and Amalia complicate their love lives even further by sustaining a hostile working relationship. But before the two can tear each other to smithereens, the owner of the shop, Mr. Maraczek (Richard Baggott), puts the heat on his entire sales force to improve the store's bottom line by Christmas. Which means that Steven Kodaly (Steven Cogswell), Ladislav Sipos (David Fox) and Ilona Ritter (Laura Dakin) wind up working overtime in order to please the embittered old man.
Clerks and customers bustle through the shop's seemingly revolving door, always bowing to one another while singing the harmonic chorus, "Thank you, thank you, do call again, please," a recurring comic bit that never fails to delight. As one musical number segues into another amid the characters' badinage, you can't help but think of the Catherine Deneuve film The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, in which all the dialogue was sung. At the very least, you're reminded of a time when musicals weren't filled with grating commentary about maritime disasters, social diseases or acid trips. It's a welcome change just to be entertained by a marvelously written, pointedly frivolous collection of songs--especially when they're performed by the scintillating Hayes.
Whether she's working with a romantic ballad ("Will He Like Me?") or a whimsical syncopated tune ("Vanilla Ice Cream"), this born comedienne delivers a portrayal that, at its comic heights, is worthy of Mary Tyler Moore's "Oh, Rob!" episodes on the old Dick Van Dyke Show. Hayes captures perfectly the fragile spirit of a young woman who knows full well that she'll need more than average looks and down-home manners to snare Mr. Right.
Hayes's stellar efforts are complemented by the comic antics of Tim Blocker, who wordlessly lampoons the pretensions of French restaurateurs in the production's funniest scene. Not to be outdone, both Fox and Cogswell deliver excellent portrayals that show off their impressive singing voices, and Ambroson makes an appealing, if somewhat stiff, Georg. All of the actors sport 1930s costumes and impeccably groomed hairstyles that blend in nicely with the charcoal-on-canvas continental street scene that serves as a backdrop to the action. And apart from those few moments when an otherwise effective orchestra drowns out some of the performers' words, the decision to execute this show sans microphones does much to enhance its intimate nature.
Pushing the nostalgic envelope a few decades further into the past is the Country Dinner Playhouse, which presents a resplendent production of Rodgers and Hammerstein's seldom-seen State Fair. The CDP effort is being billed as the local premiere of this confection of a tale set in 1946 during five days of Iowa's all-state exhibition. A recent Broadway revival and subsequent national tour starring John Davidson was not a rousing success; in fact, a chagrined Davidson reportedly begged the owner of a Minnesota dinner theater to explain how that company had managed to draw crowds where Davidson and company had failed. (Here's a hint, John-boy: The answer you seek lies not under the flip-top lid of a portable tanning machine.)