"The Graduate" at Gammage Auditorium-11/9 to 11/14/04

Drowning in Mediocrity

Reviewed 11/9/04

The Graduate
Adapted and Directed by Terry Johnson
M&I Bank Broadway in Arizona/ASU's Gammage Auditorium, Tempe
(480) 784-4444
November 9th - 14th, 2004
$19.75 - $50.00

The sense of drowning is a central image in Terry Johnson’s adaptation of Charles Webb’s 1963 novel The Graduate. Webb’s novel was also the source material for Mike Nichols’ seminal 1967 movie that everyone remembers. However, Johnson is not making the movie into a play, he’s sticking to the novel, and he is truer to his source material. Therefore, this Benjamin Braddock, Elaine, and Mrs. Robinson aren’t quite the same iconic figuers lovers of the movie are expecting, and though there are several of the same memorable quotes and images, anyone who comes to this play with hopes of an evening of fond remembrances will find themselves feeling a little like Benjamin at the bottom of the pool.

Of course, it’s probably more for the well-touted nudity that made this play such an initial success on Broadway that is drawing the audiences to ASU’s Gammage Auditorium this week. I’m happy to report that the shadowy full-frontal of television star and 80s wet dream Morgan Fairchild does occur. However, after this initial titillation, which lasts all of 40 seconds or so and takes place pretty early in the evening, it’s easy to see why though it was initially a hit, ticket sales plummeted, because that quick thrill is not worth all of the time and energy expended treading water over the remaining hour and forty minutes. .

Even worse, the performances of Fairchild, Nathan Corddry as Benjamin, and Winslow Corbett as the rather shallower-than-remembered Elaine are like an anchor dragging you to your doom. Corddry is pleasant enough as the drifting Benjamin, although his creation seems more distracted than in a profound funk, and Corbett is the perfect plain Jane for her character as written, even if she is simply awful playing drunk in the second act, but Fairchild seems to expect to float by on her good looks and former glory, and doesn’t invest much energy or interest into her Mrs. Robinson. Where others would place hints of pain and self-loathing behind the eyes of this divisive character, Fairchild instead flattens her into a pathetic monotone whine that gets really old really fast. There needs to be something more darkly seductive about this character, but Fairchild never brings it.

The supporting cast is more uniformly successful. William Hill’s Mr. Braddock is quite chummy and personable, not quite as brittle and unapproachable, as you would expect from the way Benjamin acts. However, I could understand his hatred of society based on Corinna May’s performance as his mother. She is a one-dimensional stereotype in May’s hands; the only thing worse on the stage than Fairchild’s skating is May’s braying. Dennis Parlato’s performance of Mr. Robinson is an over-the-top creation, yet it was distracting enough to keep some of what were meant to be the higher points of the evening in gear. The best of the ensemble is Denise Cormier as the stripper in the club where Benjamin and Elaine have their first (and as far as I can ever tell, only) date. Cormier sincerely delivers her lines and is a flash of red and yellow in a world of ocean blue.

The tour has brought along Rob Howell’s monolithic set of imposing doors running over the entire side and back walls. All of the doors lead into or become various things in ways that are supposed to be clever commentaries, but the sheer bulk and blandness of it all has the effect of boring the hell out of the eye. Howell’s costuming, however, is a joyful romp through the final days of Kennedy’s Camelot. Hugh Vanstone’s lighting leans toward annoying shadows and the malfunction of an important fixture on opening night kept many of the actor’s faces in darkness. Christopher Cronin’s sound design features period music including the haunting strains of Simon and Garfunkel, wisps of songs that only served to make me wish I’d stayed home and watched the DVD yet again.

It was another of those nights where I kept trying to get up the nerve to leave at intermission, but duty held me fast for the second act. The show is bracketed at the end with Corbett stripping out of her wedding dress and standing in virginal white bra and panties as a balance to Fairchild’s shaded nudity. While the final image is an interesting one, it wasn’t enough to make me kick myself for not giving up an hour earlier. Still waters don’t always run deep.

-30-

To purchase a copy of the original novel or this playscript from Amazon.com, click the below graphics.