A visit from a family friend will change Monty’s life. His late, beloved mother, it seems was estranged from her privileged class dynasty. Subsequently, Monty is an heir. His attempts to connect with his newly discovered family are met with scorn and arrogance. By way of a “happy accident” he stumbles upon a scheme. Murder the heirs in line ahead of him, until he becomes an implacable actuality. Complications arise,but providence intervenes.
A musical adaptation of the classic British film: Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder is a satire on the wretched British caste system and perhaps noblesse oblige. The D’Ysquith family ostracized Monty’s mother, and then, by default, Monty. Among numerous injustices, they have chosen to ignore the very succession of lineage that defines British aristocracy. Surely it couldn’t be moral and/or ethical to disinherit a relative because of supposedly egregious behavior? And there’s nothing to suggest this was settled in the courts.
Gentleman’s Guide, then, is a scrumptious, sardonic, tongue-in-cheek comedy of Monty’s ascent up the family tree. Irony upon irony. Wickedness upon wickedness. In some ways similar to Sweeney Todd, Monty’s motivated by fateful imperative. Almost immediately, we find ourselves on his side. Murders (or deaths) fall into his lap. They require minimal free will.
A favorite device is an unexplained hand that occasionally pops up, to hand Monty a “weapon”. Forces beyond his control are eager to assist his nefarious plan. Monty actually turns to the audience every time he lucks into a “break” and smiles. Deviously. It’s not entirely a free ride, naturally. There are snags. And touching details. But, the one rule in this inspired, ugly turn on moral equivalency, seems to be the dubious gift of (dare I say) evil. Nothing’s ever truly resolved. Dig deep enough and you will a spider in the chutney.
Director Penny Ayn Maas has navigated a demanding script here, often with the light touch many of the gags require. She never settled for caricature over substance. A fairly small, revolving circular stage is the center of our attention; a logistical nightmare. That is to say none of this could have been easy. Her phenomenal cast is nimble, punchy, poised and blessed with comedy chops. I need to stress here, the supporting players, with their various roles (servants, mourners, chorus, newsies…) were polished and quirky. The entire cast, worked and fit beautifully together. The seamless songs also needed comic timing, and they were spot on.
Among the performers were Alison Whitehurst (Phoebe) Laura Lyman Payne (Sibella) Andrew Keeler (Monty) and Randy Pearlman (The D’Ysquith Family). Whitehurst was charming and delicate as Monty’s bride. Payne a stitch as the unashamedly mercenary Sibella, Monty’s other love interest. Keeler masters the daunting art of playing a (let’s face it) morally ambiguous hero. We find ourselves prompting him from our chairs.
Especially impressive was Randy Pearlman, who portrays every member of the D’Ysquith brood. I counted six distinct characters (two in drag) each one wonderfully, deliriously funny. Thanks to Pearlman. The concept from film to stage, one actor playing, what, genealogical resemblance? It’s ingenious. And for the player, torturous. Kudos to Mr. Pearlman. Where does he find the energy?
You have only a few days to catch this remarkable piece. It lures us into the perverse, subversive pleasure of participating in treachery. We should be aghast. (hehe) I would think everyone involved: cast, crew, orchestra, were kept on their toes from start to finish. And yet that spritely, brightly gleam of those who love what they do, love shining and sharing for our enjoyment, is unmistakable. We are overjoyed, because they are.
WaterTower Theatre presents: A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder, playing July 20th-31st, 2022. 15650 Addison Road, Addison, Texas 75001. watertowertheatre.org. 972-450-6232.