If you think Dracula and Brooklyn got some bad reviews from the New York theatre critics, you should have seen the horrible dispatch of quotes that came after She Loves Me's 1963 Broadway opening. The press called it "charming", "romantic" and "a bon-bon of a musical" with "a candy box of a score". Favorable? Absolutely. The kind of reviews that create long lines at the box office? Not even close. It shut down just shy of a nine month run.
But although She Loves Me is often overlooked when considering the great musicals of the Broadway stage, it is arguably one of the most perfect creations the art form has ever produced. Though certainly not a landmark piece that signified any great change for the American musical, She Loves Me is quite simply a sublime concoction of sweetly funny words and sumptuous melody. It's romantic without being sappy. Its humor is soft, but effective. The story has some adult aspects, but they're discreet enough for the kids and your prudish grandma. You may not feel compelled to cheer at the end, but more likely you'll feel a warm glow that will last through the next day. Especially after a marvelous production like the one currently gracing the stage of the Paper Mill Playhouse.
Based on Hungarian playwright Miklos Laszlo's Parfumerie, She Loves Me is set in 1930's Budapest where the romantically awkward Georg (George Dvorsky) spends his days charming ladies into buying soaps and creams at Mr. Maraczek's (George S. Irving) shop while daydreaming over letters from a certain "Dear Friend" with whom he's been corresponding since the day she answered his personal ad. When the headstrong Amalia (Michele Ragusa) visits the shop insisting to see Mr. Maraczek for the purpose of asking for a job, she ignores Georg's insistence that his boss is not hiring. By a stroke of luck at Georg's expense, Amalia gets hired anyway and the animosity between the two of them grows with every work day. Of course, neither of them is aware that in their secret lives Amalia is Georg's "Dear Friend."
She Loves Me was written differently than most Broadway musicals. Joe Masteroff had never written the book for a show before, so composer Jerry Bock and lyricist Sheldon Harnick advised him to just write a non-musical two act play. When it was done, the two of them dove into his script and musicalized everything possible, often using his dialogue as the structure for Harnick's lyrics. The result is a seamlessly integrated score fitting perfectly into an intelligent, literate book with interesting characters you can care about and an ending that will tug at your heart until you give it away willingly.
Although the score contains no hit tunes there's a wealth of material so vivid and juicy that musical actors are continually using its songs for auditions. Picking a favorite from the frenetically funny "Tonight at Eight", the heartbreaking "Dear Friend", the abundantly clever "A Trip to the Library", the rousing "Grand Knowing You", the glorious "Vanilla Ice Cream", the jazzy title song and seven or eight other selections is an impossible task.
Especially when each number is beautifully sung and acted by a honey of a cast. George Dvorsky makes for an appealingly gawky Georg, his rich baritone seeming to come from a more passionate inner self that's trying to make its way to the surface. Michele Ragusa counters with an Amalia who puts up a mature mask which melts away (as do we) when she wraps her lovely soprano around some of Bock and Harnick's choicest words and melodies.
Nancy Anderson is a charmer as the too-smart-to-be-so-dumb Ilona, who has her own romantic complications with caddish Kodaly (a slickly dashing David Hess). Bradford William Anderson has very funny moments as the chipper young delivery boy as does Bill Bateman as the yes-man clerk. Paul Schoeffler serves up some hilarious antics as a menacing headwaiter, especially when combined with Ryan Dietz's blundering busboy.
And then, of course, there's George S. Irving; one of Broadway's supreme character men who gives a master class in musical comedy performance every time he steps on stage. Always dignified, but with a spark that's continually joyous, there he is at age 82 nimbly dancing about with Ms. Anderson, singing in full booming voice and showing a tender vulnerability.
Director James Brennan unearths many unexpected comic moments from the book and songs without ever sacrificing sentimentality. Though the show has little opportunity for dancing, his choreography and musical staging is spirited and light. Michael Anania's beautiful set design will remind you of a holiday pop-up book, with interiors and exteriors gliding through a quaint Hungarian street. Gail Baldoni's lovely costumes and F. Mitchell Dana's warm, romantic lighting completes the storybook picture.
Broadway often does loud and brash very well. Show-biz oomph is an important part of our musical theatre heritage, but unfortunately warmth and intimacy are too often greeted with claims of being "too small for Broadway". If you've never seen She Loves Me before, the Paper Mill's production gives you an opportunity to see the softer side of musical theatre and one of our true gems. If you and She Loves Me are old friends, you'll be overjoyed to see how generously she's being treated.
Photos by Jerry Dalia. Top: George Dvorsky, Center: Michele Ragusa, Bottom: George S. Irving
For more information visit papermill.org
For more from Michael Dale visit dry2olives.com
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