Beauty is most certainly in the eye of the beholder when the eye is beholding Broadway's Audra McDonald. Aside from her lush soprano and tremendously detailed acting skills, McDonald has a beautifully elegant stage presence, strikingly luminous even when the role calls for her to murder her own children. So what is she doing playing Lizzie, a woman considered far too plain and unappealing to land a man, in the Roundabout's revival of 110 In The Shade? A damn fine acting job is what she's doing.
When it was first announced that Ms. McDonald was cast as the Depression Era spinster who's ignored by every eligible bachelor in her rural Texas town, I recalled what I thought about the casting of Raquel Welch in Victor/Victoria. How are you going to hide the obvious? But director Lonny Price doesn't hide the beauty of his star. He smartly utilizes it. Sure, set and costume designer Santo Loquasto gives her some frumpy, unflattering frocks to wear while Angelina Avallone's makeup and Tom Watson's wig do her appearance no favors, but the true unattractiveness of Lizzie comes from the disgust and self-loathing the actress brings across when facing the possibility of dying alone. Her first act closer, "Old Maid," a mad scene of "Rose's Turn" proportions, is extraordinarily uncomfortable to watch as she hatefully envisions her future and pleads for God to send a man – any man – to come and save her from the curse of being an intelligent, strong and plain-looking woman.
But then there are the select moments, when Lizzie is the recipient of her father's unconditional adoration and her little brother's passionate admiration, when that glitter of delight shines from McDonald's eyes and her knockout smile of confidence fills the theatre. In a performance that splendidly balances force and subtlety, she turns it on and off like an electric lamp with the most artfully controlled dimmer switch.
110 In The Shade is a far better musical than its initial nine and a half months on Broadway might suggest. The Broadway debut of Tom Jones (lyrics) and Harvey Schmidt (music), based on N. Richard Nash's The Rainmaker, boasts a gorgeous symphonic western score, seasoned with Mexican rhythms. Nash provided a well-crafted and emotional book that never strays far from his original play and Jones' conversational and natural-sounding lyrics borrow liberally from the source's dialogue.
After the woes of Lizzie are introduced, including her family's attempt to set her up with the lonely Sheriff File (Christopher Innvar), who has bottled up feelings for her but is still stinging from the wounds of his first marriage, the draught-stricken town gets a visit from a charismatic huckster named Starbuck (Steve Kazee) who claims he can make it rain in 24 hours for an advance payment of $100. But unlike, say, The Music Man, this is not a musical where the thieving, womanizing con artist is the good guy. No, in this musical all but the least intelligent can see through Starbuck's hype, but Lizzie's father (John Cullum) shells out the one hundred smackers anyway, suspecting his con game may present an opportunity for his daughter to receive at least one night of knowing a man's attentions, even if she's sure it all must be an act. It's not your traditional love story, but when Lizzie eventually learns to appreciate what is beautiful about her, the joy is irresistible.
Loquasto's set is dominated by an enormous disc that Christopher Akerlind brilliantly lights to be a ferocious sun or a questionably romantic night sky, but the rest of the stage is only modestly attired, leaving plenty of open space to suggest the barren landscape and the loneliness in Lizzie's heart. Price pushes the actors downstage which suits the intimacy of the piece.
The only real problem with this excellent revival is that McDonald's two leading men can barely approach her performance. The soft-voiced Kazee, dressed a little too much like an entertainer in a touristy Mexican restaurant, lacks command and vibrancy in a role that demands it and Innvar's weak vocals and stiff manner don't do much to make File seem an appropriate match for Lizzie.
The relationship that really sparks is the one Lizzie has with her father. John Cullum is, of course, no stranger to playing these rural paternal types, and his warm compassionate strength provides a solid backbone and a touching glow to the proceedings.
Bobby Steggert, as Lizzie's rambunctious little brother and Carla Duren as his flirtatious gal are adorably comic and Chris Butler registers effectively as her ruthlessly honest sibling.
Certainly there was some bad luck contributing to the modest success of 110 In The Shade's original Broadway production. It opened one month before the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, had to play three months without leading lady Inga Swenson, who broke her ankle during a performance, and tried to find an audience while being followed that season by Hello, Dolly! and Funny Girl. Perhaps this perfectly lovely production, full of passion, humor and an extraordinary star turn, will help it achieve the status among Broadway's musicals it deserves.
Photos by Joan Marcus: Top: Audra McDonald and Christopher Innvar
Center: Audra McDonald and John Cullum
Bottom: Steve Kazee and Audra McDonald
