musical-theater minimalism
By MICHAEL KUCHWARA, AP
There are plenty of quiet, affecting moments in "A Catered Affair," a
most unusual little musical that has the courage of its low-key, yet
heartfelt convictions.
The show, which opened Thursday at Broadway's Walter Kerr Theatre, is a
love story. Actually two love stories - one romance ready to flower; the
other stymied and stunted, never given the op****tunity to grow.
This 90-minute musical has been skillfully adapted by Harvey Fierstein
from a 1950s Paddy Chayefsky teleplay that later became a film that
starred Bette Davis, Ernest Borgnine and Debbie Reynolds. It focuses on
a middle-aged, blue-collar husband and wife, trapped in a drab,
deteriorating marriage.
We're in the Bronx, circa 1953, where the couple's daughter (Leslie
Kritzer) and her upper-crust boyfriend (Matt Cavenaugh) want to tie the
knot in a quickie City Hall ceremony. But Mom (Faith Prince) wants a big
wedding - a catered affair - an extravaganza that threatens to rupture
her fragile relation****p with her taxicab-driver husband (Tom Wopat).
He has planned to spend the money on a cab medallion. Not exactly the
stuff of musical comedy, but Fierstein manages to create a quartet of
real people - plus write a juicy role for himself as the mother's gay
brother, Winston. In the movie, he's called Jack and is an Irish
bachelor (played by Barry Fitzgerald, no less) with a girlfriend.
Winston is a live-in relative who serves as kind of a conscience to all
the domestic bickering that envelops these folks.
John Doyle has directed "A Catered Affair" as if it were a play, in what
can best be described as musical-theater minimalism. Scenes and songs
are pared down to their essence. There's not a wasted moment as the
family's humdrum existence is carefully explored on stage.
In a way, the technique shortchanges John Bucchino's fine score, which
perhaps will sound more distinct on the show's cast recording and give
Jonathan Tunick's orchestrations more of a chance to ****mmer. Bucchino's
lyrics are literate and sharply observant, often surprising in how much
they pack into an adjective or two.
And there are some lovely understated melodies that will undoubtedly
find their way into cabaret, which is where many of Bucchino's songs
have flourished.
But then, the composer has a marvelous cast, starting with the
impeccable Prince, to sing his compositions. The woman is a joy. We
always knew she could sing. Here she gets to excel at acting, often in
moments of stunning silence. Prince has large, liquid eyes and a
tremulous demeanor that allows her to project volumes without uttering a
word.
Her character, Aggie, is a housewife living in a world of diminished
dreams. Her disappointments over her own troubled marriage, not to
mention the death of her son in the Korean War, have closed her off from
her husband.
That lack of communication swirls around her grudgingly dutiful
helpmate, ****trayed by the pitch-perfect Wopat with a growing sense of
anger. It finally explodes in a powerful defense of what this man has
done with his life in a song called "I Stayed."
Kritzer makes a surprisingly determined bride-to-be, and she has the
production's most appealing song, "Don't Ever Stop Saying `I Love
You.=B4" .
The other cast members offer strong sup****t - from Cavenaugh as the
serious-minded groom-to-be to Lori Wilner and Philip Hoffman as the
well-off future in-laws. Wilner also does double duty as a member of a
Bronx-tinged Greek chorus of housewives (Heather MacRae and Kristine
Zbornik complete the trio) who gossip from their tenement windows with
the uncle.
Those stylish monochromatic Bronx buildings and fire escapes are by
designer David Gallo. They provide a nostalgic sheen to the story as do
Ann Hould-Ward's period costumes and Brian MacDevitt's elegant lighting.
"A Catered Affair" demands serious attention from an audience, but the
effort is worth it. It's a bittersweet musical that is unafraid to stand
still and let theatergoers linger in the nuance of love lost and then,
most joyously, found.
|
