Reviewed 11/5/04
It’s one of those classics that you read in high school, but it barely registers these days that it’s still a vibrant, potentially interesting play with a message. Once you get past the sappy, cliché-ridden dialogue of the romance inside of it and cut away the dated, politically incorrect maid, there’s a lot to enjoy in visiting once more the oddballs that populate the Sycamore family in You Can't Take It With You. Kaufman and Hart won a Pulitzer Prize with this one, and it’s easy to see why in Phoenix Theatre’s enjoyable remounting. While it’s easy to summarize its message as carpe diem, it’s more the many facets of the lunacy that this message engenders that makes this such a fun evening. Graham Whitehead has loaded his production with lots of nice little subtleties and a few jarring anachronisms, and what we wind up with is a fast-paced return visit to a play that still has the ability to make us laugh and learn.
Though it bears up, it’s still important to remember just how major a play it was when it was first mounted. It was the first time on a Broadway stage that an African American entered through the front door of a white household. Its message of living for today was a potent one for a country still in the throes of the Great Depression and heading inexorably toward WWII. Most importantly, in a time when the individual seemed not to be as important as the worker or the taxpayer, it heralded the idea that the world would survive should everyone decide to stop ignoring the beat of the different drummer that drove them and did what they enjoyed. The playwright/artist mother Penelope (Cathy Dresbach) could peacefully coexist with the printer/xylophone playing son-in-law Ed (Don Kurszka) and her snake collecting/commencement attending/dart playing father Martin (Benjamin Stewart).
This production features a plethora of local talent that captures
the joie de vivre of this off-kilter clan. Almost all of them are perfect
in bringing forward their character’s eccentricities and only a few
are either too over the top or disappointing. Dresbach is a treat as the
easily distracted mother. The myriad of pencils in her hair is a symptom
of a mind doing too much at once to notice the obvious, and Dresbach captures
this flightiness perfectly. Charles Sohn as Paul, the father of the brood,
is equally distracted by his obsession with fireworks, and his furtive glances
around the room when he exits from of the safety of his cellar call attention
to his understanding of his character’s discomfort in leaving his exploding
cocoon. Stewart is a loveable realist who captures the enjoyment of Martin’s
turning off and tuning out to escape drudgery for self-contained bliss. So
it is with Debra K. Stevens and Kruszka who ham it up but perform with the
utmost sincerity. Beau Heckman is also over the top as Paul’s fireworks-making
companion Mr. De Pinna, but too much so, changing his part from character
to caricature more so than the others around him. Kudos to poor Scott
Campbell and Angelica Frost, both of whom have to say some of the drippiest lines
as lovers Tony Kirby and Alice Sycamore. They do so with a minimum of reticence,
and though it’s simply difficult to hear those lines, they are also
so sincere that they get by on their cuteness and their believable bond.
In their supporting roles, Chris Vaglio is a hoot as the hearty Russian Kolenkhov, while Ben Tyler and Andrea Pruseau are fun as Tony’s parents who encounter this oddball family on one of their more entertaining evenings. While it is understandable considering the size of the ensemble, Whitehead’s choice to double cast Pruseau as the Royal Olga later in the show does not work, as it is disconcerting to see her try to play the different character knowing full well her earlier entrance. Finally, Lorin Akers is undistinguished as G-Man Henderson, speaking his lines more than trying to get inside of his small role, and Barbara Acker is funny in her equally small part as a drunken actress.
There is no doubt of the skewed attitude of this world upon entering into T.J. Weltzien’s oddly angled, wonderfully appointed living room set whose ceiling juts out above the audience for inclusive results. Michael J. Eddy’s lighting provides both coverage and mood when necessitated by the script, and Gail Wolfenden-Steib’s costumes allow us to drop into the 1930s successfully. Nick Dressler’s sound design is good at supplying all of the bells and whistles.
Like a pair of shoes broken in and comfortable in all the right places, it’s nice to venture into the world of Kaufman and Hart to see the familiar faces and funny situations they have to offer. Phoenix Theatre’s production is a talent-filled tour of their warmly nutty world.
