"The Happy Time" Charms and Beguiles at Signature

SHOW INFORMATION: Through June 1. Tues - Weds at 7:30PM, Thurs – Sat at 8PM, Sun at 7PM, Sat and Sun at 2PM.  Tickets  $45 - $69.  703-573-SEAT or www.signature-theatre.org for tickets and information.

 

◊◊◊◊◊ out of five.  2 hours, 30 minutes, including intermission.           

With the Kander and Ebb Celebration at Signature Theatre in the DC suburbs, we knew we'd get a fresh look at a classic hit (Kiss of the Spider Woman), and a sneak peek at the future (The Visit), but the wild card was probably always the new, if curious, look at what could have been, but never was.  That show, The Happy Time, which opened last night under the direction of Michael Unger, is a wild card no longer, but is definitely a fresh look at an overlooked jewel of a show.  Featuring a spectacular cast, production values evocative of simpler times and fresh, tight direction, The Happy Time will certainly cause (and rightly so) historians to re-evaluate what is a deeply heartfelt and charming show.

Rarely performed, and remembered chiefly for giving Robert Goulet his Tony (and subsequent absence from the Broadway that made him a star) The Happy Time is at heart a quaint, generational family drama, about the pains of growing up, the fear of settling, and ultimately the triumph of love for others over self.    Darker rivers run deep beneath the surface, gradually working their way to the surface and out of sight again. Those darker rivers, familial issues, are on the surface of it fleetingly discussed and argued and just as fleetingly dismissed and disappear.  This is but one family's story - in a provincial Canadian town, a glamorous but frequently absent uncle/brother/son returns home, only to face the demons he was never rid of, all while trying to help his beloved godson/nephew traverse the pitfalls of adolescence and still see that there is a whole wide world out there.  That the uncle/brother/son is a photographer, bent on capturing the beauty of things in his pictures, is telling.  After all, when you take the family photo, how can you be a part of it, too?

Pared down to a small cast of 16, and bathed in sepia tones and framed by tintype photographs, the show is now what it likely should have been to begin with: a chamber musical.  Kander and Ebb's score is, like the rest of their canon, very easy on the ears, but deceptively complex, and dare I say it?  The Happy Time is almost Sondheim-esque in its music and lexicon.  Their signatures are all here – a bouncy, memorable title tune, pastiche numbers ("Catch My Garter"), the breezy comic turn ("The Life of the Party", "A Certain Girl") and, of course, the thematic character ballad ("Running", "I Don't Remember You").  And this production, utilizing the voices of the company and a 3 piece band, strips the score to its essentials while still delivering a lush treatment.

Mr. Unger has masterfully utilized the tiny black box space of Signature's Ark Theatre, with a simple concept and a beautifully paced staging.  A few chairs, a small platform and precious few props bring the focus squarely on the family, while the back wall, a series of picture frames, is illuminated by stunning projections (designed by Todd Edward Ivins) that fill in the blanks with generic settings evocative of the small town in the 1920's.  Perhaps even more genius, though, is that every time a photo is snapped, and it is frequent, the cast members strike their pose, and up pops a sepia-toned photo of the same pose, but in a "real" location, which serves to preserve the moment AND give the audience a crystal clear notion of where we are at any time.  Mark Lanks' moody lighting and Kathleen Geldard's detailed period costumes truly complete this artistic picture.  Karma Camp's choreography is joyful and fun to watch as the  thrust stage is used to the maximum; that "Catch My Garter," a vaudeville/can-can number featuring just four young ladies looks like a gigantic show stopping spectacle is much to Ms. Camp's credit.

As wondrous as the staging and technical craft are, the real star of this show is its nearly flawless company.  Top to bottom this group is a well-oiled machine of detailed, nuanced and touching performances.  William Beech, Rafael Hernandez-Roulet, Jordan Moral, Matthew Nee and Jordan Silver play the nephew Bibi's schoolmates and do a terrific job in creating distinct characters combined with a pack mentality so prominent in such a group of boys.  Nicest of all is that they give sincere performances – no "child star" antics here.  Kate Arnold, Emily Levey, Lauren Williams and Rachel Zampelli are a remarkable foursome.  Much of the time, they are the older cousins of Bibi, but are later transformed into the bawdy, sexy "Four Angels" burlesque act, and quite honestly, had they not been so physically close, you might never have known that they played both parts, so complete the transformation!  Carrie A. Johnson is as delicate as a flower and as strong as an oak tree as Jacques' love interest, Laurie, who also happens to be Bibi's teacher and family friend.  Ms. Johnson plays all of the angles of her character with a charm and femininity that is intoxicating; we are as smitten with her as Jacques and her young pupils are.  She has a lovely, easy soprano, and the chemistry between her and her co-star is tangible.  When they at last share a kiss, it is both cathartic and amazingly romantic.

The large, extended family includes Louis, family drunkard and his wife, Felice, played by Rob McQuay and Amy McWilliams, respectively.  Even though we never really find out why Louis is a drunk and wheelchair bound, or why Felice puts up with his antics, both Mr. McQuay and Ms. McWilliams give entirely interesting and specific performances.  Perhaps part of the charm of this musical is that it leaves some family secrets just that, a secret, beguiling us even more. Bibi's parents, the uptight, live-by-the-tick-of-the-clock Philippe and the more forgiving, progressive Suzanne are given winning portrayals by George Dvorsky and Tracy Lynn Olivera.  Both actors navigate the tricky waters of parenthood, trying to balance opportunity with prudence.  Ms. Olivera is particularly moving in a scene where she wants to give her son a chance to grow, but must bend to her husband's pressure.  Mr. Dvorsky is equally compelling in that scene, fighting desperately to keep a sort of jealousy of his brother in check, while maintaining his control over his family, which is on the cusp of major changes.  The pain and anguish which almost immediately follows an angry, face-slapping outburst reveal as much about his portrayal in a mere seconds as the entire remainder of his performance.

The three generations of this tight knit family are stunningly represented by three truly amazing performances.  The youngest, Bibi, is played with youthful glee and a surprisingly wise tone by Jace Casey, a star in the making if ever there was one.  There is not a cloying trace of Annie-style acting here.  Master Casey delivers the goods like a seasoned pro, and yet maintains a definitely innocent charm about him.  You root for the kid from the start.  Bibi's most painful scenes are the actor's best;  Bibi, he and the audience share the remarkable rollercoaster of emotions – love, hate, awe, embarrassment, happiness and devastation are all well represented by this remarkable young man.  His song, "I'm Sorry" is a wonder of musical theatre performance, equal parts tune and acting.

At the opposite end of the spectrum is the aged and sage Grandpere, played with a Zorba-like joy by David Margulies.  He is by turns the grumpy curmudgeon, the dirty old man, and the lovable grandpa, and all are played with a defiant but wistful under tone that the man realizes his time is nearing the end, and he has much to "clean up" before he goes.  The palpable relationship between this father and his three sons is so real, you'd swear they were actually related.  The love-hate dynamic between Mr. Margulies and each son is understandable and as unique as each son is.  His performance of both upbeat numbers in act two, "The Life of the Party" and "A Certain Girl" is certain to warm your heart and bring a tear to the eye at the same time.

In a company of fine diamonds is one absolutely stunning jewel, Michael Minarik as Jacques, who may just be giving the male musical performance of the year here.  His showing here is the complete, satisfying package – remarkable singing (a rich voice dripping with vocal skill and emotion) and masterful acting (a veritable study of nuance and layering of character).  Mr. Minarik's Jacques is part Auntie Mame, worldly wise and always chasing that elusive thing that will make him complete, and part lonely vagabond, wandering the world, but never really being a part of any of it.  His mesmerizing performance builds as layer after layer of guilt, anger and loneliness are revealed – often his body language and voice mask what is clearly in his eyes.  The role offers this actor the chance to play a plethora of emotions – almost giddy joy as he bonds with father and nephew in "A Certain Girl," harsh introspection in "Running," a steam hot sexuality and charming romance in his duets with Ms. Johnson, "I Don't Remember You" and "Seeing Things," and of course, the title tune which anchors the show at both ends to bring Jacques full circle.  Mr. Minarik never misses a step and is never less than completely enthralling.

What a thrill to report that this mostly forgotten diamond in the rough, given the right setting and masterful dusting off, has created one of the most dazzling jewels of the season.  The Happy Time is one not to miss.

PHOTOS of The Signature Theatre presentation of Kander and Ebb's The Happy Time are courtesy of the Signature Theatre and were taken by Stan Barouh.  TOP to BOTTOM:  The Company; Jace Casey (center) and the School Boys; Grandpere (David Margulies, center) and The Four Angels; Michael Minarik and Carrie A. Johnson; Tracy Lynn Olivera and George Dvorsky; Three Generations: Jace Casey, David Margulies and Michael Minarik; Uncle Jacques and Bibi (Michael Minarik and Jace Casey).

 

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