Reviewed 6/10/05
As I left Tempe Little Theatre’s production of Company, Stephen Sondheim’s jaundiced look at modern marriage set in the throes of the 70s Me Generation, no less than six people asked me how this offering compared to the last time I saw (part of) it. It is no contest. Susan Ranahan’s mounting, taken over from “Creative Consultant” Evelyn Gregor Durnil in the middle of the rehearsal process, is full of interesting choices, excellent design elements, and strong performances. The nearly full house on the first Saturday obviously enjoyed themselves. The script is an amalgam of the original 1970 and remounted 1995 Broadway versions that include the previously unreleased song “Marry Me a Little” but retains some of the older lines and setups. Ranahan rightly keeps the show in its 1970 setting and extends that through Annete Heath’s costumes and Bob Nelson’s distinctive lighting. David Durnil’s set is as modular as my childhood homes’ living room. This is as good a Company as you’ll get from a non-contract theatre.
The high concept play is a snapshot in time as caught between three individual moments at three birthday parties for Bobby, the eternal bachelor with a penchant for hanging with married couples and dating all the wrong women. The five couples he hangs with are composites of all types, from nut jobs to the straight-laced. Each woman has elements of the woman of his dreams, which means he seems doomed to remain single. Some have suggested that Bobby is gay, a moment that is even hinted at in the play, but it’s generally played straight.
The overtone is stronger in this production, but it fortunately does not tip
the balance of the play. Thomas Steele’s Robert is a
tiny bit fey, but what he pushes more is the uncertainty, the fear of commitment,
and the constant querying. Steele is occasionally sharp in his singing, but
he sells Robert and that makes it work. The same is true for almost all of
the actors. One thing that stands out is how real this cast is. It’s
not just in their acting, but Gina Cocchiaro’s choreography,
which is quite rudimentary and depends on an awful lot of box stepping, is
performed with a tentativeness which becomes ironically touching: real people
presenting their lives as best they can. A perfect example is found in the
performances of Johanna Carlisle and Ken Hansen as
Sarah and Harry. Carlisle has a great voice which she is not afraid to belt,
but there’s also an earnestness that she adds to her presentational offering.
Hansen also has a strong and pleasant voice, and an “Aw, shucks” quality
that makes us empathetic. Each of the couples is the same way. A standout among
the many good performances is Kathi Osborne’s bitchy
Joanne in what is the best performance I’ve seen from her. Osborne was
born for this role, and she grabs onto the brilliant “Ladies Who Lunch” like
a tiger does an antelope, and she rips into it until it’s consumed. There
isn’t a weak member of the bunch.
In the roles of his three frustrated girlfriends, Nichole Lang, Alexandra Gray, and Melissa Marie Bustamante are pips. Lang’s Marta is full of wild insights, and while she has troubles transitioning between head and chest voice, she wallops the audience with her rendition of “Another Hundred People.” Gray comes up with some great moments as she sings her part in “Not Getting Married,” while Bustamante is hilarious as the dippy April.
The color-coding concept of Ranahan and her designers is a hoot. Durnil’s set is as modular as my childhood home’s living room set, which creates many nice playing spaces. Nelson’s lighting follows the color-coding concept, but as a result, some levels are problematic, especially the blue area and the constant use of a blue spotlight which makes it hard to see those in its beam. Heath’s costumes are nice throwbacks to an awful period in fashion. Music Director Dr. Haldane Henry leads a solid orchestra that is raised by the fact that it is filled with actual people performing Sondheim’s torturous score.
There’s something quite charming about this production. It’s not polished; in fact, far from it, but it’s that earnestness and heart that give this potentially glib evening soul. Non-professional companies could learn a lot from this offering. I heartily recommend this production of one of my favorite pieces .
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