Review: Robert Harling's STEEL MAGNOLIAS at the Carrollwood Cultural Center

Chances are, you have a favorite comfort food.  Country fried chicken, chicken fried steak with extra white gravy, chicken and dumplings (chicken and anything), buttermilk biscuits, potato salad, sweet potato pie, down south sweet tea cake, or banana pudding made with Nilla Wafers. Forget the health benefits of not eating such feel-good (mostly fried or smothered-in-mayonnaise) foods; this is the stuff that makes you escape from these troubled times. The world may be spinning its crazy web around you, but what do you care if you have a bowl of scrumptious shrimp and grits in front of you?  

The way I see it, if there is such a thing as comfort food, then surely there is also such a thing as a comfort show.  These are plays or musicals that make you feel good (and full) about life, like you’ve enjoyed a hearty meal, and they don’t push the boundaries too far content-wise; they play it safe for audiences to enjoy.  Viewers can get emotional, even crying, but the audience feels good about themselves for crying.  The shows are rewarding the same way a banana split with extra hot fudge and a cherry on top is rewarding (unless you’re lactose intolerant).  And in the case of theatre, if you don’t reek of eye-rolling cynicism, then these comfort shows will be just your safe plate of red velvet armadillo-shaped groom’s cake.

STEEL MAGNOLIAS is such a comfort show.  It has everything you need for a filling (and fulfilling) night at the theatre--memorable performances, strong characters with a wide array of  personalities, an overall nice view of the world (even when heartache and loss set in), and an escape from the insane happenings of 2025. 

STEEL MAGNOLIAS, Robert Harling’s slice of Southern life currently playing at the Carrollwood Cultural Center, deals with simpler times, the 1980s, when a hair salon acts as a refuge for strong women whose (offstage) men just don’t cut it, and the phones remain on the wall and not in your laps where you barely look up from the screen. It’s a time when togetherness is cherished and empathy is fully practiced.  There are no real villains, unless you count those unseen lazy men.  This lazy-male view is so much more apparent in the play than in the popular movie; we see the men in the 1989 film—portrayed by likable sensitive tough guys like Sam Shepard, Tom Skerritt and Dylan McDermott—which at least makes them bearable; here, on the stage, we hang with the women and only hear about their men (who remain offstage, either watching TV, shooting at birds, or not lending a hand). This works better because the title is STEEL MAGNOLIAS, not Steel Magnolias and Their Deadbeats.

Playwright Robert Harling originally wrote the play (in only ten days!) to honor his sister, Susan, who had died from complications of diabetes.  He captured the steely determination and close bonds of the women he grew up with, smartly setting it in a hair salon where his characters can gather, sharing their friendships, their humorous takes on the world, their sorrows and, ultimately, their resilience.

There are six characters in all, forming one of the great ensembles in theatre: The amiable, romantic, T-spilling salon  owner, Truvy; her new-to-the-area employee, the shy, naïve Annelle; Clairee, the wise-cracking wealthy widow of the former mayor; Ouiser, the grumpy, hard as nails elderly woman with a secret heart of gold; and an overprotective mother, M’Lynn, and her free-spirited, optimistic daughter, Shelby. We follow these women through four key episodes in their lives: Shelby’s upcoming wedding; Christmastime, where Shelby announces some big news; the day before two of the characters undergo major surgery; and (SPOILER ALERT) the gathering of these women after one of them has passed away.

Like all good comfort shows, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll be shocked at how time flies out the window when you watch it.  It’s about two hours and ten minutes long, with an intermission, but it feels like only minutes have passed.  And afterwards you’ll feel wonderfully satiated.

STEEL MAGNOLIAS must have fearless performers to work, and the production at the Carrollwood Cultural Center certainly boasts that.  These are six amazing actresses who dive into their characters seemlessly; we know them because we have people like that in our own lives.  And these six amazing women know that.  This is one tight production that never feels rushed and that never feels boring.  Your mind never wanders; these women bring on their A-game…which means if you’re in the audience, you better bring your Kleenex.

As Truvy, Liz Anderson has a great look--like Mamie Van Doren if she ever did a John Waters film.  She is both hopeful and hopeless, full of verve but also burdened by her husband’s sloth. Ms. Anderson, who I remember so well in Eight O’Clock Theatre’s Once, is the anchor of the show, the one we keep going back to.  And she’s marvelous.

Candace Del Rio captures the shyness and the naivete of Annelle, and she gets to showcase her glorious vocal chops during the set changes (singing is a fantastic addition that works well in this instance because it doesn’t overplay its hand; with two numbers--“One Happy Christmas” and “Sweet Hour of Prayer”--it’s just enough). 

Judy Heck Lowry as the wild-eyed Clairee and Donna Petito as the frothing-at-the-mouth Ouiser make for a great comedy team.  Both performers are bold, with spot-on comic timing.  I especially appreciated Ms. Petito who doesn’t overdo the Ouiser role, which is easy to do (watch the rabid, mugging Shirley MacLaine in the movie to see what I mean). In Ms. Petito’s care, we sense the real person behind Ouiser’s gruff exterior, not an over-the-top ogre that’s trying to audition to become a Tasmanian Devil.  

Shelby is the part that resonates with so many people.  (I once taught a student named after Shelby in STEEL MAGNOLIAS, her parents’ favorite film.)  Here, Ryan MacLean is full of joy and determination as the spirited Shelby; you feel her bliss when she describes her marriage or, later, her son.  In the wrong hands, she could become Heidi-pure, almost unwatchable in her goodness (sometimes too good to be true, like Glinda without the wand or pink gown).  But Ms. MacLean doesn't do that; she brings her down to earth.  “I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special,” she says at one point.  And we believe her, the optimist and the realist, like most people I know.

Monica Van Nort underplays M’Lynn at first, which works wonders.  You see her character reacting throughout, but trying to stop herself from overreacting.  And when the time comes for one of the great monologues of the past fifty years--if you’ve seen the play or the movie, you know what I’m talking about--Ms. Van Nort more than delivers.  Exemplary work. The real tears stream down her face--the quite dignity of loss soon erupting into a heated questioning of the universe.  This is why Robert Harling wrote the play, and this is why most performers who play M’Lynn overdo the histrionics.  Not here.  Each emotion is earned from Ms. Van Nort, each tear is authentic.  And we, the audience, cannot help but follow suit.  Like I said: Bring your Kleenex.

Paul Berg’s set, which re-creates Truvy’s cluttered but cozy salon, is a downhome winner. The sound, designed by David Valdez with Daniel Gentry as the sound mixer, works well, especially the distant noise of dogs barking and guns being fired outside. Josh Eberhart’s lighting doesn’t interfere or overwhelm the production, and Susan Haldeman’s wig designs play an extremely important role (there are a lot of hairdo changes in the show). 

Director David Valdez certainly knows how to stage a play.  From the tableaux at the beginning, to the musical set changes, to each beat in the show, he has guided one hell of a production.  I compare his work to that of a chef marbling the finest steak--little to no fat, perfectly cut, ending up with a robust flavor.   It’s a lively show, often funny, but it never forsakes its humanity and its key moments of quiet. 

Yes, Truvy’s salon is the place these Southern gals can escape. As M’Lynn says, “People need a place where they can unload their problems.”  Ironically, the theatre is also such a place for this safety and reprieve from the real world.  We’re here to escape as well.  And you’ll have no better respite from the current world’s nuttiness than spending two hours living, laughing and crying with Truvy and her quirky customers.  You may have seen STEEL MAGNOLIAS before, but you’ll have a hard time finding a better version or a stronger all-around cast than this one.

Steel Magnolias plays at the Carrollwood Cultural Center until March 23rd. Don’t’ forget to bring your Kleenex.  

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