REVIEW: Too Much “Steel”, Not Enough “Magnolias”

I will start this review in preparation for the coming onslaught of email, which I am sure to receive after this review is posted; Vags has some of the most loyal patrons and artists of any local theatre (a good, if not a wee bit scary, thing).  I know the play, Steel Magnolias, very well.  I have produced it, directed it, seen the First National Tour, the recent Broadway revival and dozens of local productions, and have memorized the film version (which I reference below for clarity) to the point where I could catalogue the differences in lines between the two versions.  In short, I am a huge fan of the Chinquapin Parish gals.  That said, here goes:

When I walked into the theatre, I was immediately struck by how perfect this little play is for this little space – the set (designed by Roy Steinman) evokes a small town, non-chain beauty parlor, and has interesting (and realistic) playing areas.  In truth, it is the best use of the space I’ve yet seen at this theatre.  The wallpaper, with its large flower print, and rich green accent paint, resemble the 80’s when Steel Magnolias (directed by Steve Goldklang) takes place.  And some attention has been paid to detail – though I’m not sure that the installation of running water (even high school productions have recognized that need) was detail enough to warrant coverage in The Baltimore Sun.  In fact, it has everything a beauty parlor needs, down to now humorous photos on the walls of the “latest styles”.  Unfortunately, one major detail has been over looked; Truvy’s is “the most successful shop in Chinquapin Parish.”  And while it would be foolish to think Truvy would buy the most expensive equipment, I’m pretty sure the garage sale/Goodwill chic quality of half the furniture in the place wouldn’t be allowed, and I’m certain she’d have sprung for that famous water at both stations.  This half-hearted attention to detail plagues pretty much every part of the production, from the between scenes music (Patsy Cline?  Crystal Gayle?  No 80’s?) to the costumes.  For example, Anelle (the Darryl Hannah role) is dressed in 50’s glasses, a 60’s hairdo (minus any signs of her self installed “streaks”) and a 70’s denim dress.  Little is done to help visually show Anelle’s transformation either – her wig never changes, and her clothes go from frumpy to frumpier.  Similarly, Shelby (the Julia Roberts character), who is at least dressed in her “signature color,” pink, wears tennis shoes that didn’t exist until recently, and worse yet, when she gets her hair cut, there are deep red hair piles on the floor (the actress’ real color) and she is sporting a bright blond short wig.  When producing a play that is so famous and relatively recent (other members of the audience were reciting lines under their breath and only laughed heartily at jokes that aren’t in the film version), these details harm more than usual, as the details are more likely scrutinized.  I guess the inconsistency is best summed up by this: the program clearly lists the time period as being mid 1980’s, but Truvy is careful to say, “At times like these (Not “this is the 80’s”), if you can achieve puberty, you can achieve a past.”  Why change the line?   Why change anything in the script?

 I must give credit where it is due, however.  Mr. Goldklang and company must be commended (and I am not being sarcastic) for not replicating the film.  No lines have been cut or changed to their film counterpart, and each actress pretty much obliterates the notion that they are mimicking their more famous predecessors.  Anytime a group of actors and their director are willing to plum a known text for something new it is to be applauded.  Unfortunately, in creating “new takes” on the characters, sometimes it seems the actors don’t understand the text they are working from.  It also doesn’t help that in the week interim between performances (I saw the show on its second Friday evening), the cast didn’t seem to review their scripts before going on – MANY lines were dropped or misspoken or stuttered through.  I’ve said it before and it apparently bears repeating: if there is a break between performances, actors really should refresh with their scripts, if not rehearse outright.  They even do this on Broadway.

 From the moment Laurel Burggraf enters the stage as Shelby, I was put off.  At first, I thought maybe it was a rehearsal exercise gone bad – the one where you play your character as another character in the play.  You see, it seems her Shelby is channeling Oiuser (the Shirley Maclaine character)- she is loud, says every line with a brash, sarcastic, smart-ass tone, and is overtly confrontational with her mother.  Similarly, as her mother, M’Lynn (the Sally Field character), Lynda McClary plays the role as if she is Rosanne (90’s TV icon), and with as much charisma (arms folded = angry; patting on the cheeks = affection – NOT) And as Ouiser, Binnie Ritchie Holum mugs and postures like those annoying kids in the old Our Gang movies – say a word or two, pause, move to a new pose, finish the sentence – and deliver each line with the cadence of stand up comic telling a dirty joke.  Clairee (the Olympia Dukakis role), here played by Nona Porter, is also an odd combination of caustic delivery and faux British snobbery (her accent, while only occasionally hovering below the Mason-Dixon Line, seems oddly Royal most of the time – is this actress from Britain?) which is only moderately funny in act two, and nearly hypnotically dull in the first half.  Though she has the best, most consistent accent, Jessica Felice Feldman as Anelle (the Darryl Hannah part), like her aforementioned costume, never really grows in the part.  She is mousy from start to finish and never convincing as a Born-again Christian.  Only Holly Paciullo as Truvy (the Dolly Parton role) provides any semblence of being fully acquainted with the script and/or the character.  While her accent fades in and out sometimes, her portrayal comes the closest to hitting the mark as to what playwright Robert Harling had in mind for these semi-autobiographical characters – her Truvy is the closest thing to a steel magnolia on that stage.  (The director and cast may want to watch the interview with Mr. Harling that is on the special edition DVD of the movie – he is very clear about what a steel magnolia is.)

 It is true that the script calls for the portrayal of 6 very strong women – hence the “steel” of the title.  And the direction here was clearly “be a strong woman in this play.”  But these ladies are Jersey Girl strong - loud-mouthed, sarcastic, biting, bitchy Jersey Girls.  No, this play calls for strong, but genteel, polite, never-let-em-see-you-sweat, the-man-never-knows-how-much-in-control-you-are women – Southern women – in that time honored tradition of Gone with the Wind mixed with Designing Women.  The beauty of placing these ladies solely in the beauty parlor, and with no man in sight, is that they can be women, real women, who are vulnerable, letting the cracks show, and sharing their true feelings before tending to the men they talk about.  That part is the “magnolia” of the title.  And what this robs the production of is some laughs (harsh delivery of punch lines isn’t always funny), complete believability, particularly between mother and daughter, and a great deal of its heart.  The lack of chemistry here is shocking, and very evident during two crucial scenes – Shelby’s (completely unbelievable)diabetic seizure in act one, and M’Lynn’s breakdown (Ms. McClary is a great crier, I’ll admit) in act two – which, without chemistry, may as well be played by a bunch of men.  In general, the strength of these women almost comes across as masculine at worst, androgynous at best.  Good for women’s equality, bad for a distinctly traditional feminine play.  Come to think of it, I’ve often wondered what this play would be like in the hands of female impersonators.  I think I get the idea now, and I’d strongly advise against it.

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