'Scarlet Pimpernel' Still
Strikes Winning Note
Sacramento Bee
Good news! The mainstream American musical theater is still alive despite some gloomy talk, and the proof is in town in the presence of a rousing, amusing, all-around impressive example called "The Scarlet Pimpernel." It opened to a long, raucous ovation Tuesday night in the Community Center Theater on the Broadway Series of the Sacramento Light Opera Association.
If the title is familiar, it should be: It belongs to one of the longest-running hits in romantic-adventure fiction, written by Baroness Emmuska Orczy in 1905 and still in print.
Don't let the date scare you off. This is a funny, modern show that rescues the novel from its old-fashioned self by throwing away its now-ridiculous locutions (a 1905 attempt at 1792 speech) while saving a reasonably convincing amount of its well-plotted story, which also served several successful movies.
This is the tale of a plot conceived by an Englishman during the bloodiest days of the French Revolution to rescue some its victims from imminent slaughter by guillotine. One of the richest men in England, Percy Blakeney, organizes a band of 19 under his chosen pseudonym, the Scarlet Pimpernel, to go into Paris in disguises of various kinds and carry out daring rescues under the noses of the police.
Percy, bright and passionate, has married a popular, radical star of the Comedie Francaise, Marguerite St. Just, but on their wedding day becomes disenchanted with her when he thinks she has betrayed a friend of his to the guillotine. So he never trusts her with his secret. The capture of her brother, Armand, a member of his band, brings matters to a head.
Fans of the book still exist -- walking up to the theater, I heard a man say he had read it three times -- so they should be warned that the show's excellent librettist and lyricist, Nan Knighton, has made a few changes. One major one works well for the theater: Chauvelin, the slimy little spy-master hunting the Pimpernel by putting pressure on Marguerite, is now also her former lover who wants to have her again. William Paul Michals adds this sexual edge to the dark menace of the character, and sings and acts the role with a highly rewarding intensity.
A key element in the show, true to the book, is that Percy feels that he and his pals must pass themselves off to English society as clothes-crazy fops so that nobody will suspect them of their daring deeds. How else to explain all those trips to Paris? Knighton and the show's inventive, astute director-choreographer, Robert Longbottom, have fun with this idea -- swashbucklers as swishbucklers, so to speak -- without overdoing it.
One of the fellows confesses he's been feeling like wearing something ... summery. One of the show's funniest numbers follows, explaining why God created men. Trailing long scarves, wearing plumed hats, the band -- Knighton has reduced it to a reasonable eight -- is educated by Percy in the nuances of their new style. It's not quite the Trockadero de Monte Carlo, but it's in the same ballpark, and it's hilariously well-done.
The guiding light in the scene -- in the whole show, in fact -- is the way it's led by Douglas Sills, a performer with real star quality, with a flair, a sense of personal style, a vigor-within-smoothness that at times recalls a great predecessor, Alfred Drake. In another scene, beautifully written and directed for its humor, in which Percy interrupts Chauvelin's approaches to Marguerite with a series of masterful interruptions and reversals, Sills reaped a burst of applause from the near-capacity audience, even though there was no singing climax to prompt it.
Knighton has not given Amy Bodnar enough to explain Marguerite's essential dilemma -- trying to relate to a husband who once seemed so passionate and now seems such a fool -- but Bodnar does well with the role anyway, and sings it with impressive tenderness and strength.
There are a lot of songs in the show, almost all of them appealingly well-wrought. The music is by Frank Wildhorn, who has written for pop stars; it has a good pop tunefulness and a powerfully effective sense of drama and romance, and is served well by Knighton's lyrics, which go simply to the point without falling into too-familiar phrases too often. Ditto for her dialogue: "If we do not do this thing, my friends," Percy says, "who will?"
The singing on all counts is mostly as true as it is strong. Sills is a high baritone (or tenor) with a fine voice, and uses it with affecting force. Bodnar's "When I Look at You" and "I'll Forget You," like Chauvelin's recollection of love, "Where's the Girl?", are high points.
There's excellent work in smaller roles by David Cromwell in a funny double (Robespierre and the Prince of Wales); Elizabeth Ward Land as Marguerite's friend, Marie; and Billy Sharpe as Armand.
The scenery of Andrew Jackness, like Jane Greenwood's costumes, is lavishly impressive and full of good touches and tricks, like the interior of a moving carriage. It's on the spectacular side, and Longbottom paces the big cast well.
Conductor Andrew Wilder draws very good work from the orchestra, but occasionally at climaxes its sound swells to a point where it nearly covers the voices. The worst are those moments when Kim Scharnberg's orchestrations bring in snare drums for a threatening effect. It's not a big problem, but it's worth attention.
-William Glackin, Sacramento Bee
April 20, 2000
Biography | News | Photo Gallery
Fan Thoughts | Music | Lucy's Page
This page hosted by 
Get your own Free Home Page