Month: June 2024

Frederic has completed his indentured service as a crew-member of the notorious Pirates of Penzance, and (with some regret) must move on. He has enjoyed his stint immeasurably, but presently, his erstwhile companions must become adversaries. He gives them a few tactful notes on pirating (pirateship?). For example, word has spread that they will spare anyone who finds themselves an orphan (they themselves being orphans). As it happens, all their abductees are orphans. Afterward, he nearly crosses paths with some dainty sisters, but turns away, lest he accidentally gaze while they are changing clothes. Then Mabel appears. She is clearly the most beautiful of all the sisters, and sets upon Frederic as a lost soul (Poor Wandering One). The result is, in a word, kismet. Things being what they are, the rest of the pirates, wish to marry the remaining sisters. Complications continue to emerge.

Gilbert and Sullivan, masters of comic operetta, are merry, whimsical, tongue-in-cheek, and quite adept at applying the grandiose to the humble. As we might expect from the creators of The HMS Pinafore and The Mikado. A sort of hybrid between a musical revue and spectacular nonsense. Imagine when a child presents his (or her) crayon drawing to proud parents who ceremoniously tape the picture to the refrigerator. Consider the adult version of that. Except the artist knows perfectly well that WE know perfectly well, that its preposterous to make such a fuss over the trivial and/or mediocre. And this example of the hyperbolic is a kind of satire. The magic of elaborate pomp. At least in the U.K.

The Pirates of Penzance invites us (like Oscar Wilde) to chuckle at the pretentions of British social order. Perhaps the characters participate in-self deprecation without realizing. Like the most brilliant comedies there are layers. The buccaneers might have been plucked from Peter Pan, the sisters from stories of nymphs and sprites. The narcissistic Modern Major General an evocation of the stalwart and ingenious. Frederic and Mabel are smitten with each other, but we cannot imagine them in the throes of gloriously messy passion.

Three things (or more) happen when when G & S declare it’s playtime. The rituals and pageantry of grown-ups are shown up for their ridiculousness. The actors give silliness that irreplaceable “mature” spin. No one loves to romp and hop and giggle and sing and salute like adults. Like water to the thirsty. Like balloons to the despondent. Like reptiles to the bored.

Theatre 3’s production of The Pirates of Penzance is buoyant, sly, deadpan and giddy. The cast moves with poise and loft. How can we resist this ticklish, lush, high-spirited fanciful ride? The precision, the raucousness, the shameless, disingenous lilt?

I wish there had been more pirates.

Theatre 3 presents The Pirates of Penzance, playing June 13^th -July 14^th, 2024 (Bastille Day) 2688 LaClede Street, Suite 120, Dallas Texas 75201. 214 871-3300. theatre3dallas.com

 

Two brothers: Jay (15) and Artie (13) have been left to live with their eccentric Aunt Bella and their grandmother, a battle-ax from the old country. Their dad, Eddie (forced to pay the hospital bills) must travel for a year. Bella helps Grandma run a candy store downstairs, their source of income. There are no freebies for her kids. Ice Cream or Lemon Drops, they must pony up. You might say Artie is the classic Enfant Terrible, a gloriously wiseass kid, saying what everyone else is thinking. Jay and Artie are in a genuine pickle. If their Grandma intimidates adults, what chance have they got?

Dad writes letters detailing his adventures as he goes from state to state, city to city. The boys get acquainted with Aunt Bella, sweet as pie, but a bit loopy. Uncle Louie comes to visit, with all the bravado of a gangster, but touchy when the subject comes up. Louis is one of those fantastic uncles, rejecting the formality the boys show for respect. He confides in them, explaining how the world actually works. Tickles them with blue jokes. Because that’s what uncles do, for crying out loud. He and Aunt Bella take Grandma down a few pegs when they expose her conniving. She’s not a paragon of virtue.

There’s something about Grandma’s presence, chilling and disparaging, that suggests a kind of trauma. Unless I miss my guess (and I often do) Grandma Kurnitz was affected by the Holocaust. This is never brought up. Perhaps this explains her severe demeanor. Her insistence on calling the boys by their Hebrew names. Lost in Yonkers is seen from the viewpoint of Jay and Artie. Jay is just beginning to understand what it means to be a teenager. How rough must it be, for them to navigate the grownup world? If nothing else, the boys see the reasons behind adult behavior. Perhaps this helps them endure Planet Grandma.

Neil Simon’s splendid (with a couple of exceptions) plays seem to follow a similar strategy. Humor as relief from misery. Or the catastrophic. In some of them, say Barefoot in the Park or Come Blow Your Horn, comedy gets the front seat. Newlyweds who might not be compatible, a younger brother, recklessly sowing his wild oats. Simon plays them for laughs. The Sunshine Boys and The Gingerbread Lady, are far more somber. The jokes are there, but more like life preservers in a storm. Lost in Yonkers is a coming of age story, with comic relief. It never crosses the line into pathos. But it asks what must do, in a life that smacks us down.

Enthusiastic applause for the players in this demanding show: Zachary Carvajal (Jay) Aubrey Goodman (Artie) Kevin Michael Fuld (Eddie) Amy Knoles (Bella) Karen Jordan (Grandma Kurnitz) Joe Cuccinotti (Louis) Megan Tormey (Gert). Intrepid co-directors Rachael Lindley and Deborah Key, deserve (at the very least) a medal for achieving such balance, nuance, and difficult tone. Their work in Lost in Yonkers is astonishing.

Richardson Theatre Centre presents: Lost in Yonkers, playing May 17^th -June 2^nd, 2024. 518 West Arapaho Road, Suite 113, Richardson, Texas 75080. 972-699-1130. www.richardsontheatrecentre.net.