A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder by Robert L. Friedman & Steven Lutvak (Stars 2019)

My wife, who has an astounding number of Broadway songs memorized, saw that local theater Stars was doing this musical, and determined that she would go. The kids and I weren’t exactly hard to convince, to say the least. Even if I hadn’t already planned to go, the casting would have been enough to convince me. 

A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder is a rather recent musical - it debuted in 2012 - but it is based loosely on a rather older novel, Israel Rank: The Autobiography of a Criminal by Roy Horniman, written in 1907. The setting of the story itself, apparently Edwardian times, matches that of the book. 

Impoverished commoner, Monty Navarro, has just lost his mother (his father having died when he was a child), when he is visited by a mysterious woman, who reveals to him that he is a member of the aristocratic D’Ysquith family. (Pronounced DIE-skwith - to alliterate well with all the mortality.) His mother ran off with a man who was [gasp!] a commoner, a [shudder] Spaniard, and worse, a musician, [pearl clutching all around] causing her to be disinherited and disowned. Not only is he a member of this illustrious family, there are only eight individuals ahead of him on the path to dukedom. 

His attempts to reconcile with the D’Ysquiths ending in further rejection, Monty happens on a chance inspiration when the Reverend Lord Ezikial D’Ysquith, an inebriated parson, slips and falls to his death while giving Monty a tour. Monty then decides that, hey, why not kill ALL the D’Ysquiths in his way, and become a duke? 

While the first “murder” is, legally speaking, an accident (although Monty is morally at fault for not actively keeping Ezikial from falling), Monty ignores his conscience and sets out to commit deliberate murder. But not directly, really, more by taking advantage of the natural weaknesses of his victims. 

Asquith D’Ysquith Jr. falls through the ice (with a bit of help) while skating with his mistress behind his wife’s back. Henry, the thoroughly gay preppy sort, dies as a result of being stung by the bees he keeps. Lady Hyacinth (“an unmarried woman of a certain age”) who is in search of charitable opportunities to burnish her social reputation, is convinced to set off on an ever more ludicrous set of trips to distant locations which happen to have great hazards, where she disappears. (Although she finally does come back, and Monty is forced to cut the gangplank ropes - and she finally drowns…) Major Bartholomew, the vegetarian bodybuilder, has a few extra weights put on his bar, and accidentally decapitates himself. Lady Salome, a terrible actress, is slipped a real bullet to use in the gun at the end of Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler - which turns out to be the one time she gets good press for her work on stage. 

The last two, though, are not actually murdered by Monty. One dies of a heart attack, while another is poisoned mysteriously by...someone else. And thus, Monty actually gains his goal. 

And finds himself caught between the two women he loves. 

The central schtick of the play is that all of the D’Ysquiths are played by a single actor. In this case, that actor was Kevin McDonald, one of my favorite local actors. (For my thoughts on previous productions he was in, see Twelfth Night, You Can’t Take It With You, The 39 Steps, A Christmas Carol, and Crazy For You. In all, he had to play nine parts - the eight aristocratic D’Ysquiths, plus Chauncy, an even more remote and disowned scion who, it is implied at the end, will try to poison Monty. 

McDonald was outstanding in creating recognizably different roles with body language and voices, not just costumes. And yet, it was obvious that they were all Kevin too. It was a perfect role to show off his range as well as his talent at being stuffy and snooty. I was also impressed with how he handled the vocal work, which is not easy in this case. Like myself, he isn’t a show-stopping soloist with a huge voice, so the key was to stay within his strengths, and let the acting carry the part. The Rex Harrison plan, more or less. Which is exactly what he did. It fit the parts exactly as it should. 

 Assorted D'Ysquiths in the crosshairs of Monty Navarro

The other central part was Monty Navarro, naturally. This part was played by Ken Burdick, who does indeed have a fantastic voice in addition to his acting talent. Way back in the day (don’t ask exactly how long ago…), I used to play with the Bakersfield College orchestra, and Ken played oboe. Since that time, he has been in a good number of other productions, including a performance of rock tunes with the Bakersfield Symphony a couple years back. I remember a few other highlights, such as The Gypsy Baron and Gianni Schicchi at CSUB (the latter of which I played for as well.) Those are just a few of many over the years. He has real classical chops to go with, well, just about anything. In this production, he was electric. I walked away at the end thoroughly impressed with his vocal work. It was in the same class as touring productions I have seen in LA. His acting was great too. My favorite part was the impish little smile and shrug after most of the murders. That killed me. 

Also with major parts were Abby Bowles-Votaw as Monty’s mistress Sibella, and Amanda Locke as Phoebe D’Ysquith, Monty’s eventual wife. In addition to their other scenes, the song “I’ve Decided to Marry You,” with both of them and Monty, was particularly well done. It requires precise timing of movement and sound (the two women are in adjacent rooms as Monty tries to conceal each from the other) yet it has to sound like conversation, not just a set piece song. Kudos as well to director Joe Lowry for setting it up. 

 Sibella, Monty, and Phoebe in "I've Decided to Marry You"

Two other songs that were particularly enjoyable were “I Don’t Understand the Poor,” by McDonald as Lord Adalbert (with assistance from the chorus of spirits of the ancestors), and “Lady Hyacinth,” by McDonald, Burdick, and the ensemble. Both bring out different mockable traits of the upper class which are ripe for satire: the general lack of common ground for empathy with those not born to wealth, and the use of charitable work for social reputation. The lyrics are wicked funny. 

 Charitable work at its...well, something.

The ensemble bears mentioning too. Edgard Aleman, Bridget Gill, James O’Hearn, Hope Ormonde, Kate Whalen Gill, and Jacquiline Salazar had to carry multiple parts as well as the big musical numbers. No part in this musical was easy, even though the ensemble parts can be overlooked. The performance started off with a few hiccoughs in ensemble and pitch, but settled in. The ensemble pulled together, and was on the dot for the rest. Likewise, I appreciated that Stars continues to hire live musicians for their productions. In this case, that mean three string parts, which are so rare these days. 

Oh, and I should mention that the kids greatly enjoyed it. McDonald got particular laughs for the muscle suit he wore as Bartholomew. As he is “fun size” like me, I mentioned to the kids that now they know what I would look like on steroids. The response was that my legs would be bigger. (Sorry, Kevin. But at least know that they have no respect for my dignity either…) 

A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder runs for two more weekends, so if you are a Kern County local, come on out and see it. (Tickets here.) This fall promises to be full of great local theater as well. I know there is no way I can see it all, but will catch the ones I can. 

Every Good Boy Deserves Favour by Tom Stoppard & Andre Previn

This is perhaps one of the more unusual reviews I have written. I am not an actor. Well, there were a few times back in my school days, sure, but not really. So it was certainly a change of pace to be cast in a role in an actual play. Not a speaking role, but a role nonetheless. 

This is also one of the more unusual plays I have reviewed. I expect that very few ever get the chance to see it live. The reason is directly related to the fact that I had a role in it.

Back in 1977, Andre Previn was the conductor of the London Symphony Orchestra. This was before his stint as conductor of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, which is where my memory of him begins. (As an LA resident at the time, I remember it was big news when Previn retired, and Esa Pekka Salonen took over.) Anyway, Previn approached playwright Tom Stoppard with the idea of writing a play wherein the orchestra was a character. As Stoppard noted, this isn’t the sort of project one could or should say no to. The problem was, Stoppard didn’t really have any ideas about what to write. The original idea was of a millionaire who had his own orchestra. (Hey, maybe they should do that, rather than spend billions on sports teams…) But that didn’t really suggest an interesting and relevant plot. Then, Stoppard though about a lunatic with an orchestra in his head. That was more promising, but Stoppard still didn’t know where to go with the idea.

Then he met Victor Fainberg, a Soviet dissident exiled to the West, who had a fascinating story of being imprisoned in a mental hospital for his “antisocial” opinions. Things clicked for Stoppard, and the play came together. Previn wrote the music, and the whole thing was premiered for Queen Elizabeth II’s silver jubilee. Patrick Stewart and Ian McClellan were among the actors in the original.

I was able to find an online copy of the script (which is otherwise really hard to find). You can read it here in PDF, along with Stoppard’s introduction to the play, which is quite fascinating.

The main characters are two patients in the asylum, both named Alexander Ivanov. One is a political prisoner, locked up until he recants his “slander” and expresses gratitude for his treatment. The other is genuinely insane, and hears an orchestra in his head. Not just an orchestra, but a rather bad one. For purposes of clarity, the sane man is called “Alexander” in the script, while the mad one is “Ivanov.” However, both are referred to as “Ivanov” by the other characters.

There are four other characters in the play. The psychiatrist is also an amateur violinist in a real orchestra. (Which means in some scenes, he mimed along with us. We also parodied his practicing - there are a lot of musical jokes in the score, and they often come at the expense of the characters.) Alexander’s son Sacha struggles with his father’s imprisonment, and also rebels against the system. His teacher (unnamed) tries to make him conform. The final character is the Colonel, who must ultimately make the decision whether to free Alexander.

The play is a dark comedy. It ends on a positive note, but it is pretty tragic in the middle. It is also quite humorous, with music, geometry, politics, medicine, and more up for biting satire. A knowledge of music does help in understanding some of the jokes, as does a familiarity with Russian literature.

The opening scene begins with the orchestral overture, which Ivanov is conducting - and accompanying with a triangle. But it is not going well, clearly, and he cuts the orchestra off, complaining about them to Alexander.

Ivanov: I know what you are thinking.

Alexander: It’s all right.

Ivanov: No, you can say it. The cellos are rubbish.

It goes downhill from there, with successive sections of the orchestra being roundly abused by Ivanov, who really wishes he could have a better orchestra. Previn’s score includes crazy dissonances and weird rhythms to illustrate the jumble of Ivanov’s mind. It is supremely challenging stuff. 

 A bit of the violin part.

However, Ivanov has a fondness for musicians, even if he is tormented by his orchestra. He mentions that he even invites them into his home and feeds them real food. But he is mixed up in his head, and things don’t quite come out right.

Listen, I’ve had clarinet players eating at my own table. I’ve had French whores and gigolos speak to me in the public street, I mean horns, I mean piccolos...

Ivanov insists that Alexander tell him which instrument he plays. Alexander is not a musician and says so, but Ivanov won’t take no for an answer. Poor Alexander is legitimately afraid for his life given Ivanov’s erratic and aggressive behavior. The doctor has to figure out how to cure Ivanov, if possible, and “cure” Alexander, who will have none of it.

In a rather funny exchange, the doctor tries to convince Ivanov that while he, the doctor, plays in an orchestra, Ivanov does not.

Doctor: Did the pills help at all?

Ivanov: I don’t know. What pills did you give them?

Doctor: Now look, there is no orchestra. We cannot make progress until we agree that there is no orchestra.

Ivanov: Or until we agree that there is.

Doctor: But there is no orchestra. I have an orchestra, you do not.

Ivanov: Does that seem reasonable to you?

Alexander later complains about Ivanov to the doctor. The doctor notes that Ivanov complains about Alexander too:

Doctor: He complains about you too. Apparently you cough during the diminuendos.

I’m with Ivanov on this one.

The doctor and Alexander go at it on this and other occasions regarding the problem of Alexander’s incarceration. The doctor is a pragmatic man. He would like to help Alexander get out, but explains that he has to pretend to have treated Alexander, and Alexander must pretend the “treatment” cured him. But Alexander refuses to play the game, instead going on hunger strike. This is inconvenient, because Alexander’s name is known to the West, so his death would crack the facade that the Soviet Union has stopped murdering dissidents.

The problem, of course, is that the Soviets cannot handle dissent, and must suppress it by whatever means are necessary.

Alexander: I have no symptoms. I have opinions.

Doctor: Your opinions are your symptoms. Your disease is dissent.

The doctor indicates that the case is being personally handled by the Colonel, who is a “doctor,” but not a psychiatrist.

Alexander: What’s his specialty?

Doctor: Semantics. He’s a doctor of Philology, whatever that means. I hear he is a genius.

Later, Alexander and Sacha have a dialogue (but they are in different places, so it is a disconnected dialogue.)

Sacha: Papa, don’t be rigid. Be brave and tell them lies. Tell them lies! Tell them they cured you! Tell them you’re grateful!

Alexander: How can that be right?

Sacha: If they’re wicked how can it be wrong?

Alexander: It helps them to go on being wicked. It helps them to think that perhaps they are not so wicked after all.

Sacha: It doesn’t matter. I want you to come home.

Alexander: And what about all the other fathers? And mothers?

Sacha: It’s wicked to let yourself die!

This is a really telling moment. In a month where the term “grateful” has been thrown around as what protesters should be, it seems quite relevant. People should just stop protesting injustice, and show gratitude that it isn’t worse. On a related note, “ungrateful” is the “uppity negro” of the 21st Century. I think Alexander has it right. By playing the game, going along with the system, he would be allowing those who continue the system to think of themselves as less evil. And our modern protesters against a system of white supremacy would, by remaining silent, allow those who continue to benefit from and support that unjust system to think that they are somehow not really complicit with evil. This has come up too regarding my ongoing protest against Trump and those in the GOP who are openly white supremacist. I understand it makes people who voted for them uncomfortable. That is the point. I and others are here to remind you that you bear moral responsibility for the harm that comes to people such as immigrants, refugees, victims of police brutality, and those Americans in Puerto Rico who are being neglected in a way that white communities in Houston and Florida will not be. I’m not going to tell lies and pretend things are fine.

There are a number of other interesting and humorous scenes. There are also a couple of monologues by Alexander that kind of drag. I wondered about them until I read up on the play, and realized that Stoppard drew them from Fainberg’s memoirs. They aren’t just there to give background, but to give a voice to the real people who suffered under the Soviet regime.

Back to the humor. During one of the doctor’s sessions with Ivanov, he realizes he is late for his rehearsal. Ivanov is reciting his mantra about not having an orchestra, but the doctor fails to realize this, and snaps at Ivanov “of course there is a bloody orchestra.” Ivanov is thrilled to “discover” that his orchestra is “real.” And off the orchestra goes into triumphant music.

Ivanov is left by himself in the doctor’s office until Sacha comes for a visit. Ivanov impersonates the doctor, but goes off into an increasingly bizarre set of “postulates” by Euclid which confuse music and geometry.

“A triangle with a bass is a combo.”

“Two triangles sharing the same bass is a trio.”

And my favorite:

“A trombone is the longest distance between two points!”

In this particular performance, Jon Sampson played the colonel, Belle Born played Sacha, Abby Bowles-Votaw played the teacher. All were fine in these minor roles. Credit to Born for her sung parts - picking up the pitch from the music cannot have been easy given the scoring.

Ross Hellwig played Alexander. Hellwig came up from Los Angeles, and has some TV and stage credits. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a great view of his facial expressions from my angle, but overall, I think he did a fine job in the most difficult part. He seemed genuinely haunted and tormented.

Don Kruszka is well known here in Bakersfield for his puppet shows. Not only is he a talented actor, he designs and builds his puppets, which are astonishingly detailed and creative. My wife saw him act in something else a while back, but this was the first time I saw him in a full role on stage. He is quite good - and, since he got to sit with us in the violin section, we got to talk a bit. He is a down to earth guy with a sense of humor, and it was fun getting to know him.

Karl Wade took the role of Ivanov, and pretty much stole the show. It was interesting rehearsing with him, because he experimented with different takes on certain of the lines. All of the different flavors were great, fitting well with the lunatic character, even as they differed from each other.

It was challenging putting together a show like this on two rehearsals. The music isn’t easy, and we had technical issues to address. First, we only got to use the actual location and set for one rehearsal. That’s one as in “1.” Yikes. And furthermore, for reasons that are unclear - I wasn’t in the loop. We didn’t have electricity to our stand lights, and the actors lacked microphones. So full lighting and sound wasn’t in place until the performance itself. Cold sweat time. Anyway, kudos to the actors and to director Jennifer Sampson for rolling with it, and pulling off an excellent performance under trying conditions.

It was a real pleasure to be able to participate in an unusual and thoughtful production. May we all remember that totalitarianism starts with labeling dissenters as “ungrateful” and “antisocial.” Allegiance which is coerced isn’t real anyway. Respect is earned by governments no less than by people. And a trombone is always the longest distance between two points…

Arsenic and Old Lace

Another year, another set of great live local theater coming up. To kick off 2017, The Empty Space chose Arsenic and Old Lace, Joseph Kesselring’s 1941 smash hit black comedy.

The play is most familiar today in the form of a movie starring Cary Grant. I’ll confess, I have never seen the movie version, even though we own it. This was my first experience. My wife and I also took our older daughters, the younger of which is our macabre child. (She tends to rate plays by the body counts, rather than the laughs. So, Hamlet? Good. Romeo and Juliet? Meh. Too much kissing.) She laughed the whole way through, and afterward opined that she needed a window seat. That was definitely a wicked glint in her eye.

So, for those who, like me, are not familiar with the plot, Mortimer, a young movie critic, lives with his benignly insane brother Teddy (who believes he is Teddy Roosevelt) and his two prim and proper aunts, Abby and Martha. To the outside world, they are two sweet spinsters, hospitable enough to welcome even those with differing political views, and appropriately horrified at the very idea of theater. (The opening scene with the minister, where they talk about how much Mortimer hates the theater, because he writes such negative reviews is quite amusing.)

But it turns out that the aunts have a secret. Mortimer, looking for some papers, opens the window seat, and discovers a dead body. He assumes that Teddy, in a fit of insanity, killed him. But when he tells the aunts, they sweetly inform him that they know all about it. In fact, they killed him - poisoned him with tainted elderberry wine. The dissonance between Mortimer’s shock and horror and the aunt’s cheery explanation of just how many they have killed already is what drives much of the play. Well, until Mortimer’s black sheep brother Jonathan - malevolent and homicidal himself - shows up with a plastic surgeon accomplice (patterned after the real life mob doctor Joseph P. Moran). And a dead body of his own, which the aunts are not about to let be buried with the rest.

A running joke in the play is that Jonathan has had his face altered to hide his identity - and now he looks like Boris Karloff, as everyone is quick to point out. Naturally, the part was in fact played by Boris Karloff both on stage and in the film.

And all poor Mortimer wanted was to marry Elaine, the sexually ravenous daughter of the minister. He can’t explain this to Elaine, and his family just wants him to forget about it and pretend all this is normal. Which for them, it is, I suppose. 

 Evelyn Torres as Elaine

It is easy to forget sometimes just how sharp and naughty comedy was in the 1930s and 40s. Elaine is definitely not the ideal virginal girl of the 1950s stereotype - she makes some witty references to the choir loft - and she is pretty hot and bothered until she ends up puzzled at Mortimer’s sudden change toward her. Evelyn Torres plays the part of Elaine in this production. I don’t think I have seen her in anything else, but she had electric stage presence in this limited part. She is involved behind the scenes at TES, according to her bio. 

 Barbara Gagnon (Aunt Abby) and Julie Gaines (Aunt Martha)

I thought the casting for the aunts was excellent. Barbara Gagnon (Abby) and Julie Gaines (Martha) are veteran actors who have been in a number of productions around town. I think this is the first one I have seen where they had lead parts, and they were outstanding. The sweet innocence, deadpanned without the slightest self consciousness, as if murdering lonely old men was much the same as planning the potluck at the church picnic. 

 Ryan Lee as Mortimer Brewster

I want to give special mention, however, to Ryan Lee, as Mortimer. Last year, he was Tom in The Glass Menagerie, and did a fine job in that role. Mortimer is both the straight man in a comedy and a man placed in a world so surreal he cannot find his bearings. He must be funny without knowing that he is funny, and exaggerated yet realistic. Lee pulls this off with aplomb. From that first big scene when he discovers the body, walking away several steps before it registers, his face and gestures are expressive, bringing his own inner struggle against his fear he too is going insane to the surface. Lee is quite young, a student at the local junior college, but he shows a lot of skill and promise.

I am clearly not Mortimer, as I had a grand evening at the theater. I am a big fan of the local art scene, and The Empty Space is well worth supporting. This show runs through Saturday, February 11, 2017. Esonline.org for reservations and information.