Jack Weinstock and Willie Gilbert's Catch Me If You Can. Never heard of it? Neither had I, and there's a reason. If a student playwright handed me this script in a class, I would grade it a "D." Sure, you've got a neat trick ending that perks everyone up for the last five minutes, but why make them sit through the first hour and fifty five minutes of drivel and improbable situations to get them to that point? It must've been the trick ending that inspired producer Vickie Wagner and Tempe Little Theatre to mount this show. Unfortunately, the shoddy script and director Susan Ranahan's pacing in which the opening and closing of the curtain is the fastest thing onstage make this one of the many dreary offerings to debut in the past few weeks.
There's a guy in a cabin in the Catskills in 1975 who claims his newlywed wife has left him, and he shouts his fear of her disappearance to the local Inspector. A local priest drops off a woman claiming to be his wife, but he insists she's an impostor. Is she trying to get him committed for his insurance? Is she plotting to kill him to get his real wife's surprise inheritance? Is the inspector as much of an idiot as he seems? Is the priest from Ireland, or is he really from Bulgaria, as his atrocious accent seems to indicate? Is there anyone I can complain to for the return of the wasted two hours of my life just for a final few minutes of limited cleverness?
The play crawls along, tossing out improbabilities and idiocies generously. Ms. Ranahan needs to have counseled her cast to turn up the pacing quite a bit, just to give the audience a chance to miss the weaker things about this production, like the dialogue and the performances. Her blocking is textbook, and her research questionable (the local hotel's name is Groh-singers, not Grah-singers). Her casting is also odd. Only two of the cast of seven work. The others range from bad to nonentities.
One of the best in the cast, Steve Milo has the thankless role of Inspector Levine. Mr. Milo knows his New York, and uses his background to good effect in creating this bumbling inspector. Tim Koch has a small but delightful turn as local deli owner Sidney, and is the only consistent bright spot before the surprise ending.
John Linscott is painful in his role as worried husband Daniel. His consistent screeching and obviousness is out of place in a role that could use a touch of subtlety. Dawn Drew plays Daniel's possible wife, Elizabeth, with a British accent, something that is inexplicable textually. She recites her lines in a monotone that lulls the audience even further toward sleep. Corey Normandin stumbles through his lines and butchers his character's accent while atrociously performing the mysterious Father Kelleher. Simply wretched are Richard Skidmore and Shelley M. Steeb in their cameo roles. Ms. Steeb, in fact, is so awful, her performance momentarily brings life to those around her by contrasting just how bad things could be. She looks at the stage to move through her blocking and hit her marks, and leaves gaping holes between her lines and those around her.
Well, the set was kinda good at least. Dave Durnil's box living room works well, and the use of a postcard-like picture outside the window to complement Laura Johnson's lighting is effective, although the lack of a flat or a similar picture behind the front door undercuts the good things of the set. Bob Nelson's sound and special effects are better than the script deserve.
Little theatres can't seem to win. If they mount season after season of old chestnuts, they'll be blasted for pandering and repetition. If they try out little heard-of scripts, they run the risk of discovering the cause of that obscurity. While I'm glad they decided against another Neil Simon, I do wish that someone on the play-reading committee would take a course in basic script analysis.
Production Details:
Catch Me If You Can by Jack
Weinstock and Willie Gilbert
Tempe Little Theatre
The Tempe Performing Arts Center, Tempe (For a map to this location,
click this
link)
(480) 350-8388
December 8th - 17th, 2000