Review: Strong Performances Illuminate Caroline, or Change

By: May. 22, 2006
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Tony Kushner and Jeanine Tesori's Caroline, or Change is, in every sense of the word, a liberal musical. In both its compassionate depiction of characters caught in the tide of social change in 1963 Louisiana and in the scope of its ambition, it's a show that rightly believes theatre can not only move audiences, but deeply alter their perceptions about the world.

As with many very ambitious works of art, it has some flaws. Imperfections are certainly not missing from Studio Theatre's staging of this challenging and underrated show (it deserved a much longer run on Broadway than 136 performances), but audiences are nonetheless likely to leave the theatre with their minds and spirits feeling noticeably stretched. Bolstered by two stunning lead performances, the production also beautifully showcases one of the best theatrical scores of the last 25 years. The show is half sung-through musical and half opera, with music and lyrics that similarly blend gospel-inflected, soulful poetry and jangling urban rhythms.

Caroline, or Change is set in New Orleans at the dawn of the Civil Rights movement, or as Caroline Thibodeaux (Julia Nixon) would tell you, underwater Louisiana. An African-American maid and the divorced mother of four, the sullen Caroline spends much of her time doing laundry in the steaming basement of Jewish married couple Stuart (Bobby Smith) and Rose Gellman (played with neurotic energy by Tia Speros, who is almost Faith Prince's vocal doppelganger). A well-meaning liberal from New York and Stuart's second wife, Rose is kind but a little oblivious (as evidenced by her inability to call Caroline anything but "Carolyn").

Caroline--prompted by boredom and frustration to create a kind of commentative Soul Train of singing appliances--does not earn enough to take her kids to the dentist despite the Gellman's middle-class status. Rose, puzzled and guilt-stricken by Caroline's unhappiness, tells the maid that her salary might be augmented by her 10 year-old stepson Noah (the appealing Max Talisman, whose vibrato is as pronounced as his character's precocious intelligence). Every time Noah--who considers Caroline and not the soon-to-be assassinated JFK to be the president--leaves loose change in his pants pockets, Caroline is entitled to keep it. The money--both a bond and symbol of the economic forces that keep Caroline from trusting even young Noah--soon inspires in Caroline an inner battle between pride and financial need. In addition, Caroline is forced to deal with the burgeoning activism of her teenage daughter Emmie (Trisha Jeffrey).

Director Greg Ganakas cleverly involves Debra Booth's utilitarian set in his staging, which with its (slightly unwieldy) moveable staircase, divides the parallel socio-economic worlds of the Gellmans into upstairs and down. However, he can't keep the exposition-laden first act from being slowly paced and listless at times; the second act is a good deal more dramatically involving than the first. He also takes too many liberties with the Greek chorus of The Washing Machine, The Dryer, and The Radio, who gratuitously wind about the stage and about Caroline; they were less mobile--and more effective--in the Broadway production, where they functioned as more of a mental backdrop to Caroline's woes. At first merely standing behind the appliance, the actor representing The Dryer (thunder-voiced Elmore James) proceeds to gyrate against the railing of the staircase. Thankfully, much of the show is directed with more humor, spirit and grace (the latter embodied by a resplendent Allison Blackwell, as the Moon).

It's in its two lead performances that Caroline best finds a full and vibrant voice. Nixon gives a harder performance than did Broadway predecessor Tonya Pinkins. It's flintier and less soulful, as if the bitter circumstances of Caroline's life have scraped most of the natural expressiveness from her spirit. For this Caroline, emotional reserve--coupled with firm pride-- is a barrier against yet more suffering. When Nixon dances exuberantly to a Christmas carol on the radio, it seems a little out of character. Yet her performance of "Lot's Wife"--the anguished second act aria in which Caroline acknowledges the woman she has become--is a scorchingly powerful outpouring of the character's frustration and self-blame. Nixon's performance--both rich and economical--fleshes out a character that Kushner left half-unrealized on the page as a symbol of African-American disenfranchisement before the advent of Civil Rights.

Jeffrey's warmth, humor and defiant passion make her a fine foil to Nixon's brooding Caroline. The actress convincingly channels the restlessly rebellious and independent spirit that makes Emmie long for her own car almost as much as racial equality. She also has great stage presence and a piercingly attractive voice—both of which she displays in the charming first-act finale number "Roosevelt Petrucius Coleslaw."

The production can't quite disguise the fact that Caroline, or Change's liberalism sometimes leans towards the heavy-handed. Yet it's also one of the most innovative and intelligent shows in recent memory. Put more shows like Caroline, or Change in theatres and call it a reform.

Visit www.studiotheatre.org for tickets and more information.

Photo by Scott Suchman--Julia Nixon and Max Talisman in Caroline, or Change



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