REVIEW: Fell's Point-ilism with "Sunday" in Baltimore

Director Bill Kamberger has built himself quite a reputation for tackling complex shows.  Among his resume is Parade and Passion, both at Fell's Point Corner Theatre, where his most recent effort, Sunday in the Park with George opened last weekend.  I applaud anyone for the attempt to bring more challenging theatre to our area (FPCT does this frequently, and usually pretty well), and I suspect he will be rewarded for simply coming to the plate with such a difficult, huge bat.  Does he have a hit?  In many ways, yes.  In others, it's a swing and a miss.

First of all, to say something is "good for community theatre," is really degrading to truly excellent community theatre (there is some out there, I swear), and also somewhat condescending to the piece in question.  Perhaps, it should be said that in many ways, this Sunday in the Park with George exceeds the traditional production values of such groups.  For example, the costumes, designed by Helenmary Ball, are quite good in approximating what appears in that famous painting by Georges Seurat.  The silhouette and colors are a very near match, if the detail is a bit lacking.  Indeed every bolt of even miniscule dot-age has been pilfered from the area and sewn into a costume, just to approximate the textures of the final painting.  Great effort has been exerted here, and it pays off handsomely.  Another area where this production shines is in its set design (by Bush Greenbeck), a beige box, a few rotating panels and plain picture frame all suggest the blank canvas that Georges introduces to the audience in the opening moments of act one and the art gallery where it will eventually hang in act two.  It intrigues and beguiles – anything is possible here.  The award-winning score has also been given an impressive recording, full of the original's nuance, and the pointillism (Seurat's technique of painting) so scrupulously turned into music by Sondheim is there note by note (orchestral re-creation by Tim Viets). 

And most importantly, Mr. Kamberger has selected two marvelous singers to play the leads of Georges/George and Dot/Marie, Randall Dunkle and Santina Maiolatesi, respectively, who sing most of the score beautifully and have created roles of their own, neither even suggesting that they are mimicking the originators –Mandy Patinkin and Bernadette Peters, icons both.  What a relief, in fact, to find for once, a Sondheim show produced locally that isn't a live version of the taped Broadway production.  Both create very distinct characters in each act, with just enough hints at the other characters to subliminally suggest their lineage.  Both are fine actors – Ms. Maiolatesi's rendition of the opening number is superb and remarkably well controlled with little evident breathing (show enthusiasts know of what I speak, but there isn't enough space here to explain).  She is also quite touching as the elderly Marie in act two.  Act two is also where Mr. Dunkle really shines.  He seems to really "get" the meaning of act two.  Again, those familiar with the piece will no doubt understand the significance of his success in the much more dramatically challenging second half.  This is not to say that he isn't good in act one (his one-man duet as Georges and a dog is quite funny and the gleam in his eye betrays the fact that the actor, not the character, loves that part of the show).  Both are quite good, well above the relatively low expectations of some local venues of this level (again not all community theatre strives for or accepts mediocrity, including FPCT), but through the entire performance, I kept thinking they were holding back, dying to burst out of the tight hold they have been apparently directed to have.  As the evening wore on, I kept think how wonderful they'd be in a vehicle where they could really belt their songs and act a little more (Personally, I think they are ideal for Romance/Romance or Barefoot in the Park or even The Scarlet Pimpernel – if they get cast as such in coming years, you heard it here first!)  I'd like to think it was merely opening night jitters holding them back, but I suspect, and unfortunately so, that it was actually a combination of direction and unease with the readiness of the show.

The ensemble is, by necessity large, and here it is increased by three (I'll get to that later). Within the group are a few gems, notably Dickens Warfield as the Old Lady, Mike Ware as the Boatman and Brian Douglas as Jules.  Each has created well-rounded, multi-layered characters that are interesting to watch the entire time any of them are onstage.  The rest of the company ranges from blending into the beige scenery to gratingly annoying, a function of the characters they play sometimes, but also an indication that they don't really get who they are playing.  That said, when the entire cast sings together as in "Sunday" and "It's Hot Up Here", they blend beautifully and sing with such power and feeling, it gives you goose bumps.  Evidently, and to great result, musical director Michael Tan spent much time putting it together.  Sadly, even in parts that are for "actors that sing" rather than "singers that act", which this piece really needs in its ensemble, many of them end up being neither.  Yes, the rhythms are odd and the discordant music is difficult to sing, but it is most important that notes are hit; voices aren't sharp or flat, but just right.  Let's just say, individually sung lines were of some trouble throughout the opening.

The use of pre-recorded music (a necessity in such a small theatre) has both its strengths and its pitfalls.  On the plus side, it allows a certain sameness that should bring about confidence in singing the songs – the accompaniment will be exactly the same every time.  It is also easy to modulate to create a balance between voice and instrument (oddly, the biggest technical success story here goes uncredited, but the sound is pretty amazing).  But, since this is live theatre, there are also many variables that make pre-recorded music a potential nightmare.  The tape or CD is unforgiving if lyrics are forgotten, or an actor loses his/her place, or in the heat and nerves of the moment, gets ahead or behind.  It can't catch up or vamp or skip a few measures.  It just plays.  Some things, like having to hold for audience reaction can't be helped, and being human, actors are bound to make mistakes, but when it happens frequently, one must also find fault in lack of preparation.  One wonders why so many mistakes were made – not enough time with the final version of the show score?  Or why we were made to sit through several minutes, yes minutes,  of scene change music while it was clear that everyone was ready to continue?  That is both a compliment and a criticism – the scenic and costume changes were smooth and quick; the underscoring was endless and should have been stopped.  Of course, another thing pre-recorded music of a mostly sung show should do is provide proper pacing.  Not here – until Dot starts singing the first song, it feels like an eternity, and act two is like watching paint dry (pun intended) until the figures in the painting come to life and confront modern-day George.  Perhaps Mr. Kamberger can't see the form for all the unconnected dots, but the whole thing needs tightening, and the leads need permission to really let go.  Otherwise, this is perilously close to being boring, when it should be an emotional ride.

Finally, two elements of this production must be addressed.  First the lighting, designed by Charles Danforth III, is, well, much too literal, poorly executed, and at times, amateurish.  During Seurat's "Finishing the Hat", where he calls off the color of each dot he paints in a maddening rapid fire manner, the lights on the floor flashed the color being named.  The reds alone, repeated many times in a row might cause epileptic seizures if watched to carefully, and the overall effect is that of a cheap disco.  In the opening number, Dot repeats several times how unbearably bright and hot the sun is.  So where is she standing?  In the middle of a dark shadow caused by a poorly aimed light. (of course, the director might have moved her if it were a persistent problem)  And most seriously, the lighting around the scrim, which shows projections of the whole painting or pieces of it, was absolutely wrong.  There are many many times where the image can't be seen because there is too much light behind it or light reflecting off the beige floor.  There are other times when you want to see behind the scrim and the front reflection is so bad you can't clearly see either.  The other element to be addressed is the addition of 3 "harlequins" who are used here to move scenery and pump up the volume of the choral numbers (the shorter of the 2 male harlequins has an impressive voice; he was really belting his songs).  This sounds good on paper, and hey, harlequins are French clowns, at least.  But their other use, as back up singers for Georges and Dot, is completely inappropriate to the piece, and their incessant flitting – not quite ballet and more than stylized movement was distracting and annoying.  Mercifully, they are used less and less as the evening wears on.  They are most effectively used when they become the subjects of a painting or fill in the spaces of the final painting tableau of act one.  One wonders why they couldn't simply be other park dwellers?  The audience understands the need to have stagehands. (Please understand, harlequins, my criticism isn't of you – you are all committed to your roles and sing great – I take issue with who ever came up with your existence.)

Even with all I have said (and I admit I am very picky about Sondheim shows) it is worth attending this tale.  In many ways it exceeds expectations.  After all, art isn't easy, as the song says.  And we should definitely support risk-taking theater.  I won't call this a "don't miss" show, but I will call it a "should go to" piece.  Georges and Dot, I can't wait to see you in another show! And that… is the state of the art.

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