Review: THE DROWSY CHAPERONE Comes Alive at the SPC Theater

“Ain’t no cure for the summertime blues!” --Eddie Cochran (as well as the Who), “Summertime Blues”

“The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of.” --Holly Golightly in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”

“It does what a musical is supposed to do: it takes you to another world. And it gives you a little tune to carry within your head, you know? A little something to help you escape the dreary horrors of the real world. A little something for when you're feeling blue…” --Man in Chair in THE DROWSY CHAPERONE

What’s your cure for the summertime blues? For many, it’s a cruise that will leave you either exulted or seasick.  For others, it’s a treat like Bananas Foster in the Berns’ luscious dessert room.  It could be a movie or a trip to a museum that, like the old Calgon commercials, takes you away.  Then there are those of us who choose music as our emotional healer.  For me, it’s a Burt Bacharach playlist (especially his underrated “God Give Me Strength” collaboration with Elvis Costello).  As for the Man in Chair, THE DROWSY CHAPERONE’S no-name narrator who sits in a downstage right chair for the majority of the musical, it’s the original recording of a lost 1920s show called, yes, The Drowsy Chaperone.

Dubbed “a musical within a comedy,” THE DROWSY CHAPERONE (music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison; book by Bob Martin and Don McKellar) is set in Man in Chair’s dingy apartment, where he sits alone amid his posters of famous musicals (which, in this particular production, recall past works done at the SPC) and breaks the fourth wall by talking directly to the audience.  Life hasn’t gone the way he’s wanted, obviously, especially after a broken marriage has left him on the downside of life, perhaps even in tatters.  The phone rings, interrupting him, and he attacks it.  No wonder he needs Zoloft.  And his true love turns out to be not his ex-wife but the OBC of The Drowsy Chaperone that literally comes to life inside this apartment.

The story of this faux musical is inanely simple--a couple’s wedding day is on the road to doomsday if a) the groom sees the bride before the wedding, guaranteeing bad luck, and b) gangsters want to break up the nuptials so that the bride can go back to Broadway, where she has been starring in Feldzieg’s Follies (the underworld producer of it thinks it will lose money if she’s not in it).  That’s about it, peppered of course with some lovably lame subplots and the Man in Chair’s soaring narration. This isn’t deep stuff; it’s cute fluff (but fluff on steroids).  It’s as light as a waffle on Sunday morning.  It’s not going to cure anything other than the bettering of your day with a large dose of whimsical musical theatre. It simply is what it is: A bouncy, self-referential, feel-good show that helps the audience out of any summertime blahs the way it helps the Man in Chair out of his mean reds.

Man in Chair is the mercurial, enthusiastic cheerleader for this show-within-a-show. As he enthusiastically espouses on his love for this (fictional) musical, we get carried away with him.  Nicely played by Levi Erikson in the current SPC production,  Man in Chair remains one of the great characters in musical theatre history, a reflection to those of us obsessives who can’t get enough of the works that we love, that we cherish so much that it becomes a part of our soul. Mr. Erikson captures the haughty knowingness, the rabid lover of Broadway trivia, but he also graces the part with some depth without sacrificing Man in Chair’s delightful flighty highs.  He doesn’t sing much, but his verve helps propel a show that includes everything from gangsters pretending to be pastry chefs to blindfolded roller skaters; from ditzy flappers to harried underlings; from showy starlets to bizarre dancers in rabbit outfits; from pelvic-thrusting Latin lotharios to its own dues ex machina in the guise of an aviatrix who has come in her airplane to save the day.  All this and a spit-take or two (or ten). 

And the production at St. Petersburg College Theater Departments is another winner for them. Guided by the exemplary Scott Cooper, forty students from various high schools and colleges come together for four weeks of hard work and camaraderie to make this magic come alive. Since their revelatory Urinetown production in 2018, I have eagerly looked forward to these productions each year.  And they never disappoint.    

The cast is nothing short of miraculous. Carli Kosloski once again shows her mighty skills as the title character, who keeps drinking until she’s almost in a stupor.  Like her Mrs. Lovett in SPC’s Sweeney Todd last year, she has a way of owning the stage without taking it away from others. And she’s given more than one showstopping moment, especially her ending of “As We Stumble Along.”  

I have enjoyed watching Jason Calzon over the years in various parts, from Chip in The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee to Pirelli in last year’s Sweeney Todd (not to mention his memorable turn in the number from Kiss of the Spider Woman in SPC’s The World Goes Round two years ago), and he once again showcases his versatility in the role of the charming groom, Robert.  Mr. Calzon is like a one-man army, showing off a number of tricks, from extreme tapdancing to roller skating blindfolded.  What’s next for him? Being flung in the air like an acrobat? Or maybe a tightrope walk over a pit of fire?

Alexander Gault, as the Best Man, gets to present his tap abilities as well in his duet with Mr. Calzon on “Cold Feets.”  I call it a duet, but the young men’s mirrored reflections join in the act with questionable results. It doesn’t really make sense (other than to get two really talented tap forces to join with Mr. Gault and Mr. Calzon), but the energy and the obvious talent of the young performers save the day.   

Hope Lelekacs once again makes the part she plays, Mrs. Tottendale, special.  I remember her “Arthur in the Afternoon” from the SPC show years ago, and it’s good seeing that promise being fulfilled here. As her spit-take foil, Underling, Levi Hennessey provides marvelous support and the performance grows stronger as the show lovingly, stupendously stumbles along (it was hard to hear him in the opening number).

James Rosa makes the most of Feldzieg, the producer who wants to stop the impending marriage; he’s like a young Chazz Palminteri from Bullets Over Broadway, almost barking his lines with gusto and always on the verge of chomping a cigar. The two gangsters who act as pastry chefs, played by Steffen Robinson and Ethan White, jolt the stage with their electric and hilarious performances.

The wonderful Elizabeth Daley gets her day in the sun as Kitty, the air-headed flapper with a penchant for mind-reading, a sort of Lina Lamont vixen who, in the end, gets the guy and the part of her dreams. And Gabrielle Boffil gets to make a very late appearance as Trix the Aviatrix, who stops the show with some amazing pipes. What a voice!

The engaging ensemble adds so much energy to the show, including Angelina Anderson, Autumn McNew, Rylie Evans, Ella Jurusz, Valentino Martone, Deric Guevara, Caleb McGuire and Ian Clark. And Josue Maldonado makes his mark with a small part at the very end.

But two performances in this DROWSY CHAPERONE tower above the rest.  Everyone brings their A-game, but these two hit new heights: Marguerite Reed as the bride, Janet, and Jeffrey Walker III as the lothario, Adolpho.

 Ms. Reed, who attends Point Park University, is a stunning find as Janet, the Oops Girl. She has it all. Lithe, like Broadway royalty, she “gets” the time period, the acting style, the show’s tone.  When she’s onstage your eyes naturally gravitate to her.  And her purposeful show-offy performance of the show’s signature song, “Show Off,” complete with spinning plates and ending with her smilingly trapped in a straightjacket,  should not be missed.  And she sustains her final note so well that it will leave audience members as breathless as she. Wow!

And then there’s Mr. Walker.  As the over-the-top seductive dynamo, Adolpho--a Latin Lover who writhes, thrusts, uses his cane as a phallic object and almost humps the air as he walks groin-first--he steals the show.  It’s a star-making performance, the type you talk about and laugh about long afterwards.  With his Joker-like smile, he oozes charisma. His big number, “I Am Adolpho,” sung while he hilariously seduces the wrong bride, received an ovation longer and more rousing than many curtain calls.  Mr. Walker recently graduated from East Lake High School and will be attending SPC, which is great news for Mr. Cooper and Co.

One of the many joys of seeing the SPC shows, aside from the talent onstage, is witnessing the strong tech support backstage and in the back booth. The moveable set is another Scott Cooper home run, aided by Celeste N. Silsby Mannerud’s lighting design (I loved the heart-shaped spotlight). His last scenic trick of the night—the sets turning to showcase a giant airplane—had me in giddy awe; it’s like a Valentine-themed Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride (remember that). Performers even wave cut-out clouds that resemble a pop-up book sprung to life.

Katrina Stevenson’s costumes add so much and underline the time period perfectly. Latoya McCormick’s music direction is spot-on (the cast sound sensational). Lyla Ruth’s choreography is lively, and the big dream number, “Bride’s Lament,” is surreal, like something out of a Salvador Dali painting.  Men in bizarre bunny costumes join with figures in green that spell out the word BUNNY. (I particularly like it when they get in the wrong order,  and the spell out YUN BN; it’s these little touches that make me love musical theatre so much!) It’s quasi-hallucinogenic, like Donnie Darko turned into a fake 1920s musical.

There are some nitpicks. A song list in the program always helps, and the Man in Chair’s beloved album cover, a key prop,  seemed washed out and could barely be seen under the lights.  Also, one of the more infamous numbers from the show, “Message from a Nightingale,” was missing.  It’s a massive throwaway joke when the Man in Chair puts on the wrong LP (he accidentally plays the Oriental-themed Enchanted Nightingale, not THE DROWSY CHAPERONE), and it's being cut is certainly not noticeable for anyone who has not experienced the musical before.  Because the sequence deals with Asian stereotypes, and those parts are usually played onstage by several non-Asians (think Mickey Rooney as Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany’s), it is a risky number in this day and age. But it also, in its way, ridicules the whiting out of cultures, this practice of yore that is uncomfortable to deal with these days.  It’s an interesting, mouth-gaping little touch, taken as satirical though it may teeter on the offensive to many, so is that why it has been excised here? Whatever the reason, it’s an interesting choice, and I must say that its absence didn’t hurt my enjoyment of the show at all.

Scott Cooper, who runs the SPC theater department, has directed another stunner with smarts and an abundance of heart. There is so much joy emitting from the stage.  I have seen THE DROWSY CHAPERONE several times, but I laughed out loud at several moments here as if seeing it for the very first time.  The audience erupted with thunderous applause afterwards, followed by a prolonged standing ovation.  (There are three more chances to catch this at SPC: Saturday, June 24th at 2:00 PM and 7:00 PM, and Sunday, June 25 at 2:00 PM.)

Yes, THE DROWSY CHAPERONE is more clever than brilliant.  It won’t cure the nation’s many ills or even hold a mirror up to those troubles.  That is not what it’s designed to do.  It’s to provide audiences with a grand night of theatre during these difficult days.  To cure the summertime blues.  And with the astounding SPC cast and crew, it succeeds on all fronts.

 

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