BWW Reviews: THE ROAR OF THE GREASEPAINT Calls Out at Oyster Mill

Some shows are iconic, known by everyone - that would be LES MISERABLES. Others are iconic and not known, best identified by individual songs that everyone knows by heart, while many people know the songs and have no clue that they are show tunes. That would be THE ROAR OF THE GREASEPAINT, THE SMELL OF THE CROWD. Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley wanted to recreate their success in STOP THE WORLD - I WANT TO GET OFF, and the result was the show that gave us "Who Can I Turn To?" Opening in England in 1964, the show was slight enough not to open in the West End, but David Merrick decided to give it a chance on Broadway.

With direction by Newley and choreography by Gillian Lynne (CATS), and Newley and Cyril Ritchard as the primary cast, the show became much more popular here than it ever was in England, and it received several Tony nominations. At Oyster Mill Playhouse currently, directed by SFJ Martin, the play, despite its few minor characters and a children's chorus of urchins (whether they are stolen from NEWSIES or OLIVER is a question best left to the individual audience member), is a two-character study, which is perfect for the Oyster Mill stage. It's true that ROAR OF THE GREASEPAINT is sometimes called outmoded, that it's basically a long-form British music hall routine, that it has a political slant that many find outdated... and yet for all its faults it is still (possibly newly) relevant in its assaults on social class, racism, and the culpability of the oppressed in maintaining their own oppression, as well as on revolution. It's also, in its near-vaudeville format, perhaps a refreshing change from a regular onslaught of giant, Webber-esque or LES MISERABLES-sized modern musicals. (It's interesting to note that Oyster Mill's production is on at the same time as Theatre Harrisburg's URINETOWN; though URINETOWN is a lampoon of the LES MISERABLES treatment of class and revolution, these two musicals have more in common than not thematically.)

Ron Richcreek is Sir, a bruised and battered veteran of the upper classes, top hat scruffy yet firmly in place. It is Sir whose job, as he perceives it, is preservation of the status quo. In this he is aided by his servant Cocky, Oyster Mill veteran Samuel Eisenhuth, who "plays the game" by Sir's rules, under Sir's thumb, perpetually grateful to Sir for being allowed to play even though Sir invented the game, made the rules, has never revealed all of the rules, and changes them in midstream to insure that Cocky never wins. But Cocky is a great believer in luck, and thinks that it will give him an edge that will let him win the game - of life, of love, of success, whatever it is that he is playing for, despite the fact that the game is completely out of his control. It is only slowly, and by watching a visitor to the game invent his own rules that allow him to win, that the truth dawns on Cocky. Eisenhuth's presentation of Cocky's growing awareness of the situation and his plans to revolt from it is a delight to watch, as is Richcreek's increasing desperation to preserve the "game" intact from the player's/victim's sudden understanding of its fundamental unfairness.

The production is also great fun for serious theatre buffs, full as the script is of one-liner references to other musicals popular at various times - MY FAIR LADY and THE KING AND I dialogue scraps are only two of the more obvious references to other shows. It's a small show, an uncomplicated one, and not necessarily a great one, but its issues are more relevant, both in the US and in the United Kingdom, than they have been in years, and its scope is human-sized rather than grandiose. Those points and the music are things to embrace about the show (as is the side note for Oyster Mill regulars that Sam Eisenhuth finally has a part in which he does not die either before or during the show). Songs like "Who Can I Turn To?" "A Wonderful Day Like Today," and "Where Would You Be Without Me?" are still charmers, and the urchins' renditions of "The Beautiful Land" and "That's What It Is To Be Young" are fine - this is a show with a large number of children in it in which neither the children nor the songs are overly adorable or cloyingly sweet, for which some audience members may be grateful.

It's not a show for those who want a chorus of thousands, sets the size of warehouses, or massive choreography. It's not a show for those who want either a sweet message or a deeply philosophical one. Its depictions of "haves" and "have-nots" is simple, as is its message, but both of them still work. If you prefer GODSPELL to JESUS CHRIST, SUPERSTAR, you may very likely prefer this revolution to the one in LES MISERABLES. The parallels of size, musical style, and grandiosity in the presentation of a message are there.

Oyster Mill's stage is small, which works particularly well for this show; as a near-two-hander it is an intimate piece in many ways, and can be dwarfed in a too-large space that can host MISS SAIGON easily. Kudos to Joyce O'Donnell for some very satisfactory costuming, and to Monica Hynoski for the nicely handled props, as well as to director Martin for the set design. This is some of the most effective use of the Oyster Mill stage recently.

At Oyster Mill Playhouse through June 16. Call 717-737-6768 or visit www.oystermill.com for tickets.

Photo credit: BJ Photography.

To post a comment, you must register and login.