Experimentation is what keeps theater fresh. Hopefully that
experimentation can bring something new to a work, something which can enhance
it and still respect the original. (I saw a RIGOLETTO last season with an
ending which took the whole audience’s collective breath away and transformed
forever the way I will look at Verdi’s masterpiece.)
I think that’s what the creative team behind
Fiddlehead Theatre Company’s new, black & white production of WEST SIDE
STORY were hoping to do (at the Strand through Oct. 24th). The
highlight of any WEST SIDE STORY production has to be the choreography. After
all, Jerome Robbins imagined the musical with dance at its core. Wendy Hall’s
rousing choreography for Leonard Bernstein’s gorgeous music carries the
Fiddlehead show.
Hall gives the Jets explosive (pow! pop!)
leaps and aggressive bounds (with arms stretching backward like Romulan “birds
of prey”). The Sharks’ movements are more elegant and plenty erotic, perfectly
illustrating the palpable excitement building in the music. Charles Pelz’s
twenty piece orchestra (which includes stellar musicians like Jeff Leonard and
Louis Toth) fills the cavernous hall with Bernstein’s throbbing melodies. The
music alone could tell the whole “star-crossed” story. (Kudos to producer Meg
Fofonoff for finding a way to fix the Strand’s
old, creaky sound system.)
Alas, I’m very sorry to say that I don’t know what the black
and white theme is supposed to represent in Fiddlehead’s pallid version of the
Laurents/Bernstein/Sondheim musical. The WIZARD OF OZ used B&W for
Dorothy’s pre-Oz, humdrum life and color for her spectacular, hallucinated
adventure. I get that but in WSS director Stacey Stephens gives us color only
for wounds, a yellow rose, and the fantasy ballet in Act II. Steven Spielberg
used color once, at the end of SCHINDLER’S LIST. I get the ‘death” symbolism in
Spielberg’s movie but I don’t understand Fiddlehead’s metaphor: The real world
is pale? Only bloodshed can give it pallor? (And since yellow usually means
cowardice—What are we to make of
that?)
Stephens directed as well as designed the costumes for his
high concept but those B&W frocks cause a whole lot of havoc: When Maria
tries on her party dress (which should be white by the way) she
complains to Anita that white is for babies and she’ll be “the only one at the
dance in a white dress.” NO. Everyone at the dance is in a white dress. The
only variety is in shades of grey. (The male characters wear white for the
Sharks and black for the Jets. Perhaps Stephens is saying the Sharks are the
good guys and the Jets are the bad guys. Old cowboy movies indicated good and
evil that way.)
As a result of the lack of color, everyone looks washed out,
like some unseen Dracula drained the life blood from the musical. The only
passion comes from the glorious music and the vital choreography (which, too,
is unfortunately undermined by those colorless costumes and a lack of space.
The rear portion of the stage is littered with ladders, chairs, all sorts of
detritus which could have been pushed back so that the Jets could snap their
fingers and advance more than three steps toward the audience.)
Inconsistencies (where the dialogue does not reflect what is
happening in this production) and odd choices undermine the story. (SPOILER
ALERT: For example, Maria has to traverse the whole width of the stage to reach
Chino after he
shoots Tony. Then Chino
inexplicably drops to his knees as if to propose marriage. Instead he thrusts
the gun toward Maria, head bowed as though he expected to be knighted.) I
haven’t a clue.
I guess it’s a clever trick to put Anita in a tub in a
balcony loge after she says she’s going home to shower but we can’t hear her
that far away and the lustrous quintet has become a quartet without her. What’s
more, she can’t be seen by that side of the audience. But pulling off her
underpants in the pseudo “rape” scene (which is usually stopped by Tony’s boss
long before it goes that far) is just gratuitous and grotesque.
For the most part, the Fiddlehead production lacks a sense of
playfulness. The characters dressed in black made me think of mourning clothes
way before any of the violence takes place. Thankfully, they do achieve some
welcome comic relief in the naughty “Officer Krupke” number.
Many of the performances have that extra something which sets
them apart from everyone else: Theo Lencicki as Riff has it. Kim Corbett has
charisma as Maria. Waldemar Quinones-Villanueva is a striking, threatening
Bernardo. Pamela Turpen is a fiery Anita. Daniel Boudreau stands out as the
creepy detective and John Davin makes the drugstore owner a mensch. And I
mustn’t forget the dancers. Thank heaven for the dancers.
