Reviewed 11/19/05
I didn’t get it. You know how the build up to seeing something leads to disappointment. That’s me right now. I’m often told Brian Friel is a great playwright. Most everyone has said that this is a play not to miss. So I didn’t, and now I don’t. Get it, that is. Thanks to Peter J. Hill and Jeff Blake’s well-appointed set, Hill’s lush lighting, and Gail Oliphant’s great costume, the production of Dancing at Lughnasa at Fountain Hills Community Theatre looks lovely. The talented Wanda McHatton impressively directs it. The actors make an excellent ensemble with some personal best performances within. However, at intermission, I personally watched as over two-dozen people left this older and more conservative audience, and where I ordinarily would condemn these narrow-minded doofuses, this time I could understand their impulse. With all of the described elements going for it, why was I nearly asleep just before I watched the exodus? Maybe I just don’t care so much about the soon-to-be torn-asunder lives of five spinsters as seen through the eyes of Michael (Jonathan Graham), narrating his seventh year in 1936 from a point further ahead in time. Perhaps petty intrigues don’t move me. Probably I should just stop seeing five shows a week and sleep a little more regularly. Whatever the cause, this was an evening spent marveling at everything except for what was actually happening on stage.
Michael, the
son born out of wedlock of one of the ladies, good-natured Chris (Eva
Sue Burch), describes the magical harvest he enjoyed. In that time,
his father, the puckish Gerry (Roger Prenger) returns for
a visit and stirs Chris’ heart; dry schoolteacher Kate (Diane
Senffner) strives to keep the group together despite outside forces
tearing them apart; quiet Agnes (Austin Campbell) keeps watch
for simple Rose (Debbie Brown) as she discovers romance; and
elder brother and missionary priest Jack (Walt Pedano) returns
from Africa afflicted by malaria after decades spent at a leper colony and
reveals how far he’s strayed from the church. The action sputters along
like the intermittent blats from the malfunctioning wireless. It’s a
slice of life play that makes me long for someone to go postal onstage. Or
just do something.
While there’s nothing much actually happening, McHatton makes it a pretty slice. Cramped into a tiny kitchen, the girls giggle and snap and break into jigs. Prenger’s Gerry literally dances into their lives causing jealousies and discontent. McHatton balances this energy with the shuffling of Pedano’s ghostly Jack. The pacing dances then rests, explodes then meanders. Senffner’s diction work is perfect, and everyone in the ensemble save one is spot on.
Senffner and Prenger offer the best performances I’ve seen from them. Senffner’s Kate is controlling and a bit officious, and she does an excellent job of delivering the speech that justifies all of her actions. Prenger’s Gerry is as charming as a leprechaun, and just as sly. His energy jolts the audience when he’s onstage. Connie Reiss’ housekeeper Maggie is always in the moment. Graham’s narrator is endearingly presented. Brown is a cute Rose, keeping the innocence without making her cloying. Burch is sweet as the bewitched Chris, believably falling under the spell of Gerry and strongly portraying the character arc of her eventual disillusionment. Campbell’s matronly Agnes lacks some subtlety when Prenger creates rifts in the clan. Initially, Pedano seemed awful as the bewildered Jack. Sans an accent and more unfocused than befuddled, his performance grows as Jack’s health improves.
The set is amazing, the lighting is colorful, the costuming is accurate, the ensemble is in synch, and the direction is expressive and intuitive. If parlor politics is your speed, then this will prove to be a grand slam. If you want a little action within all of this success, you may find yourself heading for your car at intermission, surrounded by the crème of like-minded Fountain Hills’ elite.-30-
