AISLE SAY Twin Cities
Book by Joe Masteroff
Music by Jerry Bock
Lyrics by Sheldon Harnick
Based on a story by by Miklos Laszlo
Directed by John Miller-Stephany
Guthrie Theatre
725 Vineland Place, Minneapolis,
(612) 377-2224
May 7-June 12, 2005
Reviewed by David Erickson and Roxanne Sadovsky
David:
Director John
Miller Stephany's
production of She Loves Me at the Guthrie has finally brought its theatrical meanderings
home for a friendly visit with the basics of craft. Not experimental in the
least, not pandering to the cheap seats (no coy references to local politics or
insertion of disco beats, a la their Pirates of Penzance), just a pleasant -- and
occasionally amazing -- reminder of what professional theatre people are
capable of doing with even the most breezy and unassuming material. The
performances shine from top to bottom, the choreography is energetic and
stylish from the ballroom turns to the bistro pratfalls and the backdrop is
flush with everything from opulent draperies to "parfumerie" knick-knacks.
What? Why this is our work, we put on shows. Who knew?
With the Guthrie's
usual confidence and in this case, an unerring eye for the essential elements
of scene, we are swept in to a charming boutique of old, replete with Art Nouveau
flourishes and smartly turned couture (those cloying devils of window display
tiny towns, Department 56, sponsored this show, but their taste-free line of
sugary, garage-sale destined crap seems not to have been an influence.)
Rox:
While this book-turned
play-turned musical-turned film-turned play-turned film again, has perhaps been
recycled more times than its dreadful title song, this particular adaptation
remains loyal to the strengths of the original, written in 1937 by Hungarian
born Miklos Laszlo,
entitled Parfumerie. While I cannot speak to previous interpretations of Mr. Laszlo's
play (except for the film, The Shop Around the Corner starring Jimmy Stewart and Margaret Sullivan, which was awesome),the
Guthrie's musical rendition still lets the melodrama and innocent charm shine
through multiple layers of its sophisticated and energetic production. In other
words, while the hunt and chase for true love meandered among poignant themes
like self-doubt, class division, heartache, and the eternal quest for
happiness, these less than optimistic themes were balanced by absurdist
mealtime mishaps and loveable displays of human behavior-clean, well
choreographed subplots illustrating what he or she will do to fit in with the
rest of the world, while maintaining an iota of individuality. Insomuch, the
(almost) three-hour, two-act musical, while a wee bit long in the first act,
never distracted itself too far from the plot: one man's drive to find true
love, while it is starring him right in the face (one woman's drive to keep a
job and find true love when it is starring her right in the face).
Speaking of love,
one can't help but fall in love with the little shop of neurotics that drive
the story (I think having to sing "Good day, good day, please come again,
Madam...Please come again...Madam..." to every patron who tinker-bells
through the elegant shop doors would get a little nuts, don't you?). Not only
do we get to see the depth of the characters in relationship to one another,
but solos (short solos) with props and dancing, are performed by each shop
clerk (the leads get at least two a piece), enabling us to see what lay at the
core of his or her passion and pain. One can't help cheer in fear for bicycle
messenger boy, Arpad Laszlo (Jason Tam) who opens the play cycling and singing along a
narrow diameter center stage. In his second solo, he manages to somersault
midair over his hospital ridden boss, shop owner Mr. Maraczek (Steve
Schaffer) who
tries to shoot himself upon discovering his wife is having an affair with one
of his loyal clerks. Now that it looks like the boss will recover, Arpad is
asking for a promotion.
So what's at the
core of the plot's passion and pain? Forgive the reference, but the entire play
is based upon a single misunderstanding, which leads to other misunderstandings
before it all comes to a head, similar to an episode of Three's Company, to
which I liken only because of its tremendous use of physical humor, all at the
expense of trying to do good in the world. The central misunderstanding in She
Loves Me is that
head clerk, Georg (Lee Mark Blessing) and his penpal, Amalia Balash (Garrett Long), who ostensibly hooked up via
the town paper's personals, are getting pretty hot for each other and can
hardly await the day until they meet in person. Due to the several mishaps and
holiday chaos occurring at the shop, this meeting is postponed long enough for
the audience to realize it will end in disaster. (Hint: they've already met).
Still, the botched blind date makes for a touching second half, where jerk the
clerk, realizes that in order to win over the love of his life, he will need to
take a few risks and be a little bit nicer.
Were it not for the
fact that I cannot get Jack Jones' annoying rendition of She Loves Me, out of
my head, I'd have nothing but praise for the Guthrie's feel-good season closer.
Even if you know nothing about song, dance, or love, after a show like that,
one can't help but skip out the Guthrie's double front doors and take a deep
gulp of fresh air before commenting on the beauty of the perfect spring
evening.