Review |
This was an unusual event, the opening night of the first
production of a new community theater company, the State Theatre Acting
Company (STAC). As the name indicates, they were performing on what is
to be their home turf, Auburn’s State Theatre, run by the Auburn Placer
Performing Arts Center. And for their debut, they chose a sure winner of
a show, The Music Man, Meredith Wilson’s masterpiece of
turn-of-the-century Americana, full of unforgettable music and comedy.
And STAC’s production was an authentic, satisfying presentation of this
show that is beloved of so many.
The creativity and energy that made this show work was
evident from the very first scene with the salesmen on a train. A looped
clip of a steam engine was displayed on a screen at the back of the
stage, while actors performed the difficult rhythms and timings of that
first number (“Rock Island”) sitting in a line of chairs at the side of
the theater. What made it all funny from the start were their outrageous
hats, decorated with what they were selling — including an anvil on one
hat. As they proceeded through the number, they would periodically pick
up their chairs, making their way to center stage, while a silent
“engineer” made the motions of the rods connecting the moving wheels of
the locomotive. This was indicative of the creativity that director John
Deaderick brought to the whole show.
The soundtrack was professionally produced, but it was
brought to life by excellent singing. I was first struck with the good
singing in the ensemble number, “Iowa Stubborn.” The sound of the cast,
unamplified, filled the theater and surprised me a little. I shouldn’t
have been surprised, though, because there are a lot of truly excellent
singers in this show: I know because I have heard them sing solo in
other musicals or in choral concerts. And when they sang together
tonight, it was wonderful — attributable to their inherent talent, but
also to the coaching of music director Ray Ashton, a veteran of so many
outstanding local productions in recent years.
I’m hesitant to start talking about individual cast
members because they all worked together so well — brimming with energy
and always acting, even when away from the main action, and creating
some wonderfully entertaining comic characters. Of course, Marian Paroo
was not comic and was played to perfection by Amy Wolfley with her
lovely, accurate singing voice and her dancing. And Erick Lindley was
great as Prof. Harold Hill, the most energetic member of an energetic
cast — I can’t picture him moving slowly — and delivering
tongue-twisting lyrics and dialog with great flair. Most importantly, he
brought that casual, over-confident bearing that the part requires,
eventually to cultivate a believable chemistry with Wolfley.
It’s hard to connect some of the acting highlights
with specific actors because the character names weren’t repeated
frequently enough (if ever) to know who to credit with some excellent
moments. The part of Mayor Shinn is different. I’ve seen Fred Burks
perform brilliantly in many roles in recent years, but it felt like he
was born to play Mayor Shinn. In the same vein, the ladies who did the
“Pickalittle” number wrung all the comedy possible out of that song (and
others) and were a delight to watch. I have to mention Elizabeth Kelley
Gillogly as Mrs. Paroo, who gave a pretty fair Irish accent and
predictably good acting, as did her daughter, Fiona Gillogly as
Amaryllis, the piano student. And young Sam Hendrickson sang (and acted)
well as Winthrop Paroo. And Emmeline Tober was fun as the supercilious
wife of Mayor Shinn. Memorable, too, was Rick Schlussel, as the salesman
who exposes Harold Hill. Finally, I couldn't help but notice the
good acting of Amber Busse in her small part as Gracie Shinn.
One of the true highlights of this production was the
show-stealing barbershop quartet of Steve Tassone, David Lynn, David
Burns, and Robbie Merchant. They played up the comedy in their roles,
but when they sang, they delivered 4-part harmony that was always
wonderfully listenable, but that excelled when their “Goodnight Ladies”
was paired with “Pickalittle” or when their “Lida Rose” complemented Amy
Wolfley’s “Will I Ever Tell You.”
I haven’t yet mentioned the dancing. Patti Baker is
legendary in our area as a choreographer and dance teacher. There
was a lot of her choreography throughout the show, but much of it was
understated, as in the library scene: interesting, but not flashy. But
there was some outstandingly flashy choreography in “The Wells Fargo
Wagon” and “Shipoopy” and perhaps some other numbers that were so
engaging that I didn’t even think to take notes about them. Not all of a
cast like this will be good, trained dancers, but there was a core of 6
outstanding dancers that made everyone look good in those highly
choreographed numbers.
I have to give credit to two more contributors to this
production. Costume designer Leslie Dilloway came up with a lot of
perfectly period costumes — and some quirky effects (like the salesmen’s
hats at the beginning). And Projection Designer Andrew Fiffick made us
forget how spare the set was (just a footbridge) with his series of
projections that gave each new scene a sense of place.
I’ve loved The Music Man since I first saw the
movie as a teenager. And even though I may not remember all the
words, I can pretty much still sing all the songs. So when STAC decided
to perform The Music Man, they were venturing into my personal
vault of cherished treasures. But it worked. The whole thing was utterly
charming. The spirit was authentic and the execution high-quality. Those
who know the show will enjoy this refresher of all its excellences. And
for those — presumably the very young — who don’t know the show: what a
treat you have in store. |