Exhibitionism

BY Molly Beth Brenner

The Little Prince: A Tenuous Reign

When I was a child, I read Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince over and over. I loved the story's mystery, its innocence, and even its sadness. The Little Prince is a rare book: It's deeply respectful of children's intelligence, it's not cloyingly sweet, and it certainly doesn't represent life with death whitewashed out. It depicts children as small, self-possessed people who harbor a fundamental knowledge forgotten by "the grown-ups" and who must be patient with their larger counterparts. As a child, I found great validation in this perspective.

This classic has since been adapted into a musical, and for those of us who love the original book, the musical adaptation evokes a mixed response; it seems to have retained the beauty of the original only inasmuch as it has used Exupéry's text in its dialogue. The sections that stray from his writing (most noticeably the songs, with lyrics by John Scoullar) leech the complexity and subtlety that make the original text so magical. Lines such as "The time we spent here/Has lessened our fear/Allowed us to hear/This lovely song" are no match for Exupéry's text in the same moment of the narrative: "At sunrise the sand is the color of honey. And that honey color was making me happy, too. What brought me, then, this sense of grief?" This tension that makes the book so special is too often exchanged in the musical for language that is cheery and precious.

Thankfully, however, most of the script is drawn directly from the book, and there are some lovely moments in the production directed by Scott Kanoff for the State Theater Company. The cast does a fine job of bringing to life Exupéry's unusual characters. Paulina Reyes imbues the Little Prince with a gentle, inquisitive charm, and her voice is sweet and true; Brian Gaston is dashing and sensitive as the stranded Aviator; and Elizabeth Moliter makes a lovely Rose, as proud, coquettish, and high maintenance as any beloved flower should be. Perhaps the standout, however, is Paul Norton, playing a multitude of contrasting characters in lightning-speed succession. His comic timing and expressive physicality provide the levity needed to advance a narrative dependent more on language than on action.

Still, I found it hard to determine if the musical was intended for children, adults, or both. The original book seems able to gracefully cross the chasm between the two; the musical may leave both audiences dissatisfied. While the script is perhaps too meditative for a small child, the play's songs seem too pat and forced for adults. I peered around at play's end to try to discern reactions from either age group but found it difficult to gather a clear message. Although a few people up front were giving a standing ovation, the 5-year-old sitting behind me had left during intermission, and the woman next to me, unfamiliar with the original, whispered, "Maybe it's better in French." Although I can't speak for the French version, I have to agree that the book I so loved as a child has lost a great deal in its musical translation.

'Fantasticks' is a fantastic summertime play for families

A storybook approach makes Austin Playhouse's "The Fantasticks" a production for the whole family.

The story is a simple one. There is this girl and there is this boy. Their fathers, hoping their children will marry, conspire to keep them apart. The boy, Matt, and girl, Luisa, do fall in love and act one ends with both families joined in a moment of moonlit happiness. In act two, daylight heats tempers. Matt and Luisa part and the narrator, El Gallo, leads them through heartbreaking experiences so that they may learn about real love.

As the narrator, Brian Gaston makes El Gallo a kind and gentle figure. Although still very young in her vocal and acting abilities, Kelly Galvin's Luisa exhibits the capriciousness of a 16-year-old caught up in romance. Cory Cruser, in fine voice, makes Matt a sweet 20-year-old caught up in poetry and his own mild insecurities.

Dirk van Allen and Thomas C. Parker are charming as the fathers. Van Allen's not the strongest singer, but the devilish grin across his bulldog face and his bluster are endearing. As Luisa's practical father, Parker gave over his persnickety ways to sentimental confusion when dealing with his impractical daughter. Everett Skaggs and Phillip Ayliffe are a pleasure to watch as the traveling actors, Henry and Mortimer. Skaggs, his face a highway of enhanced wrinkles, is the perfect down-and-out Shakespearean has-been.

"The Fantasticks" isn't politically correct, but the songs and story do contain some truths about the contrary nature of youth and the improbable fantasies surrounding love.

The Fantasticks: Well-Worn but Comforting

The term "community theatre" has assumed an unfair, pejorative connotation. Usually it's used to deride a well-meaning theatre company staging feel-good, slightly hapless productions for an audience that attends because the material is well-worn but comforting, the actors are well-known and charming, and the entire affair has a sense of the familiar: more akin to watching home movies with one's extended family than attending a serious art event in some highfalutin performing arts center. What's wrong with that?

In the care of the Austin Playhouse, and more specifically, of Producing Artistic Director Don Toner (who directs this well-worn musical), what might be derided should be applauded. The familiarity of material, acting company, and audience at an Austin Playhouse production breeds not contempt, but something warmer, where small trips and stumbles are less noticeable, if not completely forgiven. The audience-friendly acting troupe, led by the likes of local stage stalwarts Dirk van Allen, Thomas C. Parker, and Everett Skaggs, milks the most from Tom Jones' and Harvey Schmidt's boy's-father-meets-girl's-father-with-a-twist love story. As the fathers, van Allen and Parker are cute, quaint, combative, and mostly in sync in their soft, soft-shoe routines. Phillip Ayliffe does a neat comic turn as Mortimer, sidekick to Skagg's wonderfully droll, Shakespearean (or is that Victorian?) Henry. Brian Gaston has charisma to spare as the dark but accommodating El Gallo, though his energy seemed to flag by the musical's end. As the girl, Luisa, Kelly Galvin flashes a pretty smile and offers deft moves, but the young actress' voice has some strengthening to do. The real standout in this amiable crowd is Cory Cruser as the boy, Matt; Cruser's voice and acting are equally, exceptionally strong.

Now, if the idea of home movies with family doesn't appeal, those small trips and stumbles won't be so easily overlooked. A musical, especially a chamber musical such as The Fantasticks, can go a long way on its various parts, but if the sum can't be greater than, or at least equal to, its parts, then the evening is going to drag on, despite its comfortable atmosphere. When, after the opening song, the upstage curtains snagged on something (the percussionist's equipment?), never quite masking the white wall, it was clear that the evening would be full of such little trips, mishaps, and omissions (including a much-too-real and scary moment when the Mute, Stacey Huston, nearly fell off a chair trying to attach a curtain to the wobbly set). The singing is not uniformly good or even audible; the combo is not always in rhythm; it appears that choreographer Laura Walberg gets the most out of her charges, but she's working with a rather limited palette; Mark Novick's lighting is scanty at best. The room itself seems wrong; it's just not enough of a theatre for a play that has as much to say about theatricality as it does the nature of true love.

In spite of its evident charms, there are too many things lacking to call this production better than adequate. Yet even so, one gets the feeling that Toner is completely in tune with both his appreciative audience and his crowd-pleasing troupe, serving up fare to sustain a dedicated community who love theatre, served his way.