Out of Tune
Weak or outdated material makes for mixed reviews of two musicals currently running in town
by Martin Brady
Baby, The Musical
Presented by Boiler Room Theatre
Through March 2 at The Factory at Franklin
Tomfoolery
Presented by Chaffin’s Barn Dinner Theatre
Through March 23 on the Backstage at Chaffin’s Barn, 8204 Hwy. 100
The musical Baby dates from 1983. It was nurtured along by writers and producers with solid track records, and it enjoyed 276 performances on Broadway. The idea—revue-style portraits of couples dealing with impending parenthood—would seem to be timeless. The writing is less than that, however. The script in general seems to be plagued by decent scene setups that don’t amount to much. Sometimes the humor works, sometimes it doesn’t. And just when we might be led into a decent song, we just as likely won’t be. Frustration rules the day.
Composer David Shire is a certified pro. Besides his work in the theater, he’s written movie scores (The Conversation, All the President’s Men, among others), and he won an Oscar for the song “It Goes Like It Goes,” from Norma Rae. Alas, there’s nothing special about the music in Baby. The stylistically eclectic tunes are pretty bland, the meandering melodies seeming to be drawn from Stephen Sondheim’s or Marvin Hamlisch’s reject file. Richard Maltby Jr.’s lyrics are so intent on being clever that there’s little inspiration behind them. Oh sure, occasionally there’s some wit and laughter, but when his lines get overly complicated, the music has the unpleasant task of following along, usually with mediocre results.
So it’s no surprise that the cast at Franklin’s Boiler Room Theatre is a bit behind the eight ball before they embark on their sojourn into the lives of expectant parents. In this case, three couples represent various age groups: Daniel Vincent and Erica Rowlett are in their 20s; Lewis Kempfer and Erin Parker, their 30s; and John Warren and Rebecca Holden represent the fortysomethings. Through 20 numbers, they moan, project, panic, kvetch, rejoice, equivocate and ultimately celebrate the vicissitudes and joys of imminent mother- and fatherhood.
The actor-singers display talent, but they are often as up and down as the less than memorable writing. It’s kind of a hit-or-miss proposition whether their skills will be in synch when the Maltby/Shire collaboration (with a script by Sybille Pearson) is producing its best work.
The men all have their moments, but only Warren consistently charms. He is particularly good delivering his Act 2 numbers. Vincent is generally too cornball to be believed, and Kempfer is saddled with occasionally having to interpolate a Jackie Gleason imitation into his character. (He doesn’t appear to embrace this unfortunate bit of shtick, and who can blame him?)
As for the women, as a group they’re slightly better—but not by much. Rowlett’s earnest youthfulness is cute (but too much by half, probably). Holden, looking every bit the Kewpie doll, might have projected more sophistication. Parker offers the most appealing performance—she’s got some personal spark, sports a twinkle in her eye and sings nicely. Filling out the cast is a small chorus played capably enough by Allen Cox, Ivan Everitt, Janet Ivey and Nancy Whitehead.
There are times in Baby when the singers are definitely stretched beyond their ranges; that, or the songs need to be transposed into more comfortable keys. Vincent and Holden have noticeable difficulties in this area, and there are a few moments in their numbers when you can only feel for them and be grateful when the end has come. One presumes that director Jamey Green and musical director Michael Simmons—both of whom play keyboards during the performance—have tried to address this issue. Whatever the case, the results are not optimal. There are also episodes when the synthesized music sounds simply canned, with particular annoyance generated by grating electronic drum ticks.
Aside from a handful of pleasant scenes where everything good comes together, watching this Baby come into the world is often as difficult and as messy as, well...giving birth.
Seasoned humor
Musical shenanigans of a slightly different kind are happening on the Backstage at Chaffin’s Barn Dinner Theatre, where 27 songs from the wacky mind of satirist Tom Lehrer are loosely bound together into a revue dubbed Tomfoolery. Lehrer was a witty guy, but this material—adapted by Cameron Mackintosh and Robin Ray—dates from the late ’50s and early ’60s, often offering more a sense of nostalgia than topical punch.
Lehrer’s obsession with the atomic bomb is well in evidence, for example. Yet despite their still realistic concerns, songs like “Who’s Next” and “We Will All Go Together When We Go” lack the edge they might’ve had 40 years ago. In this age of Internet porn, the tune “Smut” really dates itself, with references to Lady Chatterley’s Lover and Fanny Hill. “Pollution” is cute, but its pre-EPA indictment of smoggy air and chemical-infested water isn’t as funny since so much official attention has been paid to those issues in the past three decades. And while its message resounds, “I Got It From Agnes” no doubt originally concerned STDs that prefigured the horrific rise of AIDS.
Lehrer also pokes fun at love, Ivy Leaguers, Boy Scouts, racism, ethnicity, Oedipus Rex and other sundry targets. But if his satire has lost its edge through the passage of time, he can still be credited with a kind of cockeyed, Mel Brooks-style POV that evokes laughter. “Poisoning Pigeons in the Park” is a nice example of this silliness. And Lehrer may be at his funniest when his pure verbal wordplay is on display (“When You Are Old and Gray” and “Silent E”).
Despite his close affiliation to the ’60s protest movement, Lehrer’s piano-based music has some interesting harmonic strengths that often raise it well above the level of folk songs. He also has fun with various styles, with a particular fondness for Latin tempos.
Director Martha Wilkinson’s informal staging features an energetic cast of four—Katharine Boettcher, Lori Casteel, Joseph Collins, Richard Daniel—who smile, wink and otherwise mug their way oh-so-familially onstage. Casteel provides the nicest singing voice of the evening. Pianist Les Horne is a definite plus, particularly in his game, heads-up accompaniment for Daniel’s ambitious musical run through the periodic table (“The Elements”).
If there’s more a time-warp sensation at work here than there is one of sharp-edged lampooning, that doesn’t mean Tomfoolery isn’t entertaining. It often is that, but probably older Baby Boomers will reap the richest rewards of its bygone-era focus.
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