BWW Reviews: Neil Simon's BAREFOOT IN THE PARK Entertains on the Hanover Stage

Say "Neil Simon" to someone, and the first thing they'll mention is THE ODD COUPLE. If they mention a second, it will be either BRIGHTON BEACH MEMOIRS or PLAZA SUITE. What they almost certainly won't mention is the play that when it opened became what's now the tenth longest-running non-musical on Broadway, BAREFOOT IN THE PARK, which opened with Robert Redford and Elizabeth Ashley in the leads. It's a kind, gentle, but riotously funny study of newlyweds trying to adjust to married life. Much as it sounds irrelevant in a day when most couples tend to live together first, without having to deal with the wedding presents or a honeymoon at The Plaza (Simon seems to love The Plaza, no?), it's still relevant to anyone dealing with the ups and downs of becoming a couple.

At Hanover Little Theatre, Robert Brown directs the all-but-four-hand comedy of errors with a distinct flair and with a well-chosen core cast. Corrie Bratter, newlywed wife with an apartment - the fifth-floor walkup that's only a bit larger than a broom closet, with all the awkward corners - to decorate, comes face-to-face with such post-honeymoon matters as missing furniture, her interfering mother (an amusing Heidi Hormel), the charming and insane neighbor, Victor Velasco (Beau Bowden), and the discovery that her husband, Paul (Jeremy Slagle), a young lawyer, is just a bit more of a prig than she thought. Corrie is a freewheeling young woman with the potential to become an Auntie Mame, and Paul is just that one fine line from becoming an uptight, golfing, country-club-member lawyer. In less than a week of living together for real, Corrie and Paul watch their marriage go up, down, and face divorce - over mothers, neighbors, restaurants, and whether Paul could possibly walk in the grass (or the snow, for that matter) with bare feet, even once.

Heckert and Slagle have the chemistry that comes from playing against a close friend - you can feel the warmth between them (though not necessarily any electricity), and that you have a couple who genuinely care about each other, though the stage couple's understanding each other is questionable. Corrie decorates with draped shawls and is enthralled by their quircky foreign neighbor; Paul keeps his ties pressed in a large book and is congenitally suit-and-wingtip-bound. She'll run barefoot in the park - they're over on 48th Street, so it's not that far - and he'll complain about the snow on the ground at the time. They love each other, but in the words of Ladies Home Journal, can this marriage be saved? Or will Paul die from running up and down their stairs before they have a chance to break up?

Hormel is the archetypal arch, snobbish socialite mother, redeemed by the fact that she actually lives in non-social New Jersey; those Lord and Taylor gift boxes that keep showing up aren't going to force Corrie into the slightest conformity, and underneath her polished exterior, mama isn't so far off from Corrie at all, except for her digestion. When Corrie schemes for her mother to meet the odd foreign neighbor, Velasco, and to have dinner together, Paul's aghast, but Corrie may not be as far off as Paul thinks she is. Hormel's balance of consternation, indigestion, and secret delight at her somewhat bizarre night with Velasco is delightful.

Bowden, as Velasco, is the discovery here - one doesn't often find a SAG-AFTRA sort of actor winding up in the Hanover area, and that he's had a career on network screens as well as on regional and community stages is evident. He's a joy as the dizzying, daffy foreign gourmet with a staggering inability to make rent, and his comic timing is spot-on. Fortunately, he's now a veteran of the Hanover Little Theatre stage, and one may hope to continue to see him on it.

In a play of tremendously funny, though gentle, scenes, the second half is the real riot - both for cocktails and appetizers at Corrie and Paul's apartment, featuring strange dishes by Velasco that no one really likes, as well as the after-dinner aftermath. In many ways Paul's the odd one out - Corrie could be Velasco's child, and the mismatched spark between Velasco and Corrie's mother is almost predictable. Paul's still pressing his neckties in a book.

In four days, Corrie's become ready for a divorce from the irritatingly square and unimaginative Paul, who, with his tie book, is out on his ear. What else could possibly go wrong now? Can her mother save the day?

Look out also for Raymond Schneider's brief, hilarious interludes as that thing of the past, the telephone repairman. Yes, children, there used to be service calls from something called telephone companies that installed hard-wired phones on cords. Yes, children, companies used to send repair people to your home, rather than... oh, never mind, you can't imagine something so peculiar. But Schneider's as much fun on stage as anyone else.

Heckert and Slagle shine as the odd couple - no, not that other Neil Simon odd couple, and it's a bit of delightful fluff on the Hanover stage. At Hanover Little Theatre through September 21. Call 717-637-5297 or visit www.hanoverlittletheatre.com.

To post a comment, you must register and login.