Vanities—The Musical

The smartly crafted new musical Vanities, while not compelling, offers plenty of rewards.

I think playwright Jack Heifner and composer/lyricist David Kirshenbaum were wise to create this new musical version of Heifner's 1970s play of the same name. The original, non-musical Vanities—which enjoyed a lengthy Off-Broadway run and many subsequent mountings in regional theaters—had pretty much run its course. This agreeable new version, handsomely presented at the Second Stage Theatre, should introduce Heifner's characters to a new generation of theater-goers, and give their still-intriguing stories a new lease on life.

Heifner's basic concept—and it remains a viable one—is to take three close friends from high school (played by Sarah Stiles, Lauren Kennedy, and Anneliese van der Pol) and show them finding their own identities in subsequent years. We see them first as vapid, self-absorbed high school cheerleaders in Texas, 1963; then in college, in 1968; and then as adults, out in the world, in 1974. For this musical version, Heifner has added a fourth scene, which I found satisfying, showing them—a little wiser, a little more understanding, if a bit battered by life—today. Heifner and Kirshenbaum have done such an effective job of economically sketching the three gals, and the spirit of the times, that I left the theater feeling like I'd been to a high-school reunion, catching up with old friends.

Heifner remembers well—and conveys clearly—attitudes held by characters of the time. In high school, for example, his three girls can think of nothing more important than being popular. Indeed, as one of them so memorably puts it: "I can't imagine not being popular." One of them sings, in a deft lyric by Kirshenbaum, how she looks forward to being "a mother and wife for the rest of my life, with a few short breaks for church." These lines have punch; the show gets off to a good start. The scene, incidentally, takes place on November 22, 1963, right before Kennedy's assassination; so the audience is reminded that life is not always going to be as bright and cheery as the girls would like. (I did feel, however, that the playwright missed an opportunity; that if you're going to set the scene right before the assassination we are entitled to learn how that event impacted upon the characters; setting the scene right before the assassination creates an expectation that that event will somehow figure in the development of the play. But the assassination is never mentioned again.)

In college, these are clearly the same people. "We were high school cheerleaders and now we're sorority girls, we've done it all!" one exclaims. But they are also beginning to emerge as individuals. Joanne is certain she will remain a virgin until marriage, and then remain faithful to a husband who'll always be faithful to her. Mary has already come to believe that that dream is not just unrealistic, she'd find it stifling. I am not going to detail every plot twist and turn; suffice it to say that I found the characters interesting, and I wanted to know more about them.

This is a substantive three-character musical. The show, while enjoyable, is not perfect. There are occasional moments, during songs, when the show seems to be simply marking time. There's not as much variety in the melodies or in the orchestrations as there should be. The show is about friends who start out in the same place and gradually find their own directions; I would have welcomed more variety in the sorts of songs these distinct individuals sing, to further express their individuality. The song that worked best for me—the one that was zestfully playing in my head after I left the theater—was the one in which Joanne (the character most threatened by change) sings of wanting to hear the same old music of yesteryear. It's a clever notion, linking old-fashioned music with old-fashioned values. And the sang has more of a hook than most in the score. It is sung with verve by the show's strongest performer, Sarah Stiles, and the orchestration, with a hint of a banjo, evokes an earlier era. (Incidentally, the program does not give the titles of any of the songs—a mistake which needs to be rectified. Print an insert, if need be.)

Directed by Judith Ivey, with musical staging by Dan Knechtges, the show moves smoothly for the most part, only occasionally faltering. The transitions from the scenes are handled particularly well. The adroit changes of sets and costumes take place before our eyes; and costume designer Joseph G. Aulisi and set designer Anna Louizos have effectively captured the various times. The production has an attractive look and feel to it. I was disappointed, though, in the orchestrations of Lynn Shankel. This show features an eight-piece orchestra. That's a hefty sized orchestra for Off-Broadway. Many shows would kill to have that many pieces. But the orchestra sounds anemic. (I'm not faulting the players here, but rather the charts.) There are arrangers who can make eight musicians sound, when needed, almost like a big band.(The late Sy Oliver was a master of that.) But Shankel's orchestrations don't have the body or the variations in tonal colors that the show cries out for. I don't want to make too much of that complaint, though. Despite imperfections, I enjoyed this show more than most new shows I've seen this season. And I think it will have life in the regionals after this Off-Broadway run.

Chip Deffaa
Cabaret Scenes
July 23, 2009
www.cabaretscenes.org