West Side Story

Thomaston Opera House
Thomaston, CT
Powerful reminders of what theater is all about can sometimes come from unexpected places. A case in point: director Rick Doyle's unusual, revisionist treatment of West Side Story, at the Thomaston Opera House. Production values are modest; I'm sure they're operating on a budget that is but a small fraction of most shows I see. But Doyle has elicited from his cast members performances so honest and absorbing that it's impossible not to be drawn deeply into the story.

And although I've seen many productions of West Side Story and was worried that the show might by now be overly familiar to me, I was struck by the freshness, sincerity, and heart of this version. Before the show was half over, I found myself wiping away tears. This production got to me. (And Lord knows, over the years, I've seen a fair number of big-budget, big-ticket plays that have left absolutely no impact—or have simply annoyed me for wasting my time.) And the main characters in this production—who are supposed to be around 18 years old—are portrayed by actors who actually are around that age.

Directors usually play up the anger of the teenaged gang members in West Side Story, wanting us to feel early on that any of them could be a potential killer. And that certainly makes sense; and time has proven that that interpretation works. (Arthur Laurents, who wrote this show's strong libretto and has directed the latest Broadway revival of West Side Story, favors that approach.)  Doyle, however, has chosen instead to accentuate the youths' vulnerability, presenting the rival gang members as lost youths trying to find their way in the world; he gives us a different West Side Story than I've hitherto seen. And his interpretation works on its own terms.

When, after two of the main characters have been killed, the song "Somewhere" is introduced, Doyle gives that song  to the youngest, most sensitive and vulnerable of the gang members, Baby John. (The current Broadway revival gives it to a young boy to sing.) That's not what the original script calls for, but Doyle's choice makes the song a poignant commentary on the loss of innocence—indeed the whole play, as directed here, revolves around the destruction of innocence. And Bailey Cummings, as Baby John, finds the aching beauty in that song. It's a terrific, surprising, sweet/sad moment.

I was familiar with the work of a couple of the principals in this production, Rachel Armour (Maria) and Jimmy Bain (Riff), because I'd enjoyed them previously in productions at Thomaston  Opera House and elsewhere; I know their strengths. And it's enjoyable to hear such numbers as "Jet Song," "Gee, Officer Krupke" and "I Feel Pretty."

But this show's male lead, Joey Antonios (Tony), was a revelation; this was his first lead in any show, and he's got the best songs in the show. I was struck not just by the loveliness of his tone, but by the ease with which he navigated difficult vocal passages.  On the love ballad "Maria," Antonios landed on every note deftly and easily, and caught all of the nuances in the dynamics.  He sounded appealingly youthful and open-hearted (rather than "Broadway stentorian"). Nothing forced about his delivery, no apparent pressure; just going from note to note gracefully, as if there's nothing difficult about the song at all. (And when, for example, you sing the word "Ma-ri-a," you're singing a melodic augmented-fourth, resolving to a perfect fifth.) Just making it all seem as natural as speaking. That's no small accomplishment.  And it's gorgeous to hear.

West Side Story, with music by Leonard Bernstein and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, boasts one of the most glorious scores in musical theater. But it is an unusually challenging one to sing. Bernstein and Sondheim were told by veteran theatrical producers, recording company executives, and music publishers that the music was too complicated, dissonant, and unorthodox for most people; but they refused suggestions to make it simpler.

The cast boasts one outstanding dancer, Nick Rollo (Bernardo).  He's fierce, focused, and his energy level is high.  He stands on stage, poised like an animal ready to pounce. And his dancing (choreographed by Foster Evans Reese) is fascinating. He has great potential. But even some of the smaller roles are cast well. Emily Bordonaro (Anybodys) and Michael Dikegoros (A-Rab) have great presence; they're vivid, always "in the moment," and they make their characters individuals, with real personality. Jack Sprance (Snowboy) moves well. The fight scenes in this production are exceptionally well staged and executed; I was stunned by the realism. The 15-piece orchestra, under the direction of T.J. Thompson, acquitted itself well, too. And I liked the moody, highly theatrical lighting, which amplifies the sense of tragedy in the second act.

Doyle has chosen to take the comic number "Gee, Officer Krupke" out of the second act and put it into the first act. That can be justified artistically; removing that comic interlude accentuates the sense of tragedy in the second act. And Doyle has moved "Cool" from the first act to the second act. (Doyle is putting the songs essentially where they were in the film version of West Side Story rather than where they were in the original Broadway show or are in the current Broadway revival.) One downside: by moving "Cool" in this production, the lead singer on "Cool" can no longer be Riff, since the song is now being sung in the show after Riff has been killed, and Jimmy Bains (Riff) is a more commanding singer than the one who has wound up getting the song. But in terms of story-telling, switching the placement of the songs, as Doyle has done, works; he could not have made the second act as affecting had he paused for a comic number. The second act proceeds with the relentless inevitability of a Greek tragedy. The humiliation of Anita (Nina Paganucci) by members of the Jets is portrayed with startling bluntness.

Needless to say, I don't judge a young cast, at a regional or community theater, by Broadway standards. I make appropriate allowances. And it's worth remembering ticket prices at regional and community theater productions are but a fraction of Broadway ticket prices. I think every audience member got a good show. If some members of the cast are rather green, it doesn't matter all that much.  Doyle has gotten his cast members to give their all, and perform with conviction, whatever their level of talent or experience might be. And the production felt powerful. I left wishing I could see it again.

The Thomaston Opera House was built in 1884. Some very great artists have performed on that stage over the years, from master song-and-dance-man Ray Bolger to opera legend Enrico Caruso.  The building, with its gold filigree accents, carries with it the charm of a long-gone era. Every year, I hear whispered rumors that the Opera House is in danger of closing, and such whispers have only grown louder during the current recession. But every time I see a terrific, moving production at the Opera House—such as this one—I make a wish that a way can be found to keep it in operation, just the way it is now, for another 125 years. They've got something special in Thomaston. I sometimes wonder if the residents of Thomaston and the surrounding towns in Connecticut's Naugatuck Valley realize just how special it is, not just because it's rare to have a Victorian-era theater still in use. Ticket prices are quite modest. (You could see this production for little more than the cost of a movie.) But Doyle has a way of bringing out the best in his actors. And with that kind of spirit—getting actors to really commit to a production—creating magic will always be possible. And I witnessed moments of magic in this production.

Over the years, I've learned that good theater can happen anywhere.  And I've learned that high ticket prices do not always guarantee good productions.  I've sometimes seen actors give indifferent, lackadaisical performances in some long-running Broadway hits (and have complained both in print and privately about extreme cases). I've seen some shows—on Broadway, off-Broadway, and in dinner theaters—where it felt like no one onstage really cared; they were just going through the motions.  And yet here, in out-of-the-way Thomaston, Connecticut, with just the bare essentials in terms of sets and costumes, I've seen actors that any playwright would be thrilled to have interpret his work, Because they're giving everything they have to give.  And making us remember the power of live theater.

(Pictured: Rachel Armour and Joey Antonios)

Chip Deffaa
Cabaret Scenes
May 20, 2010
www.cabaretscenes.org