Maudlin
sentimentality is acceptable when toasting your 90-year-old grandmother on
finishing her first 3K. That's because it’s quite an accomplishment and we should happily allow the tears to flow. But such effusive emotionalism is less tolerable in a musical about a convicted
murderer who killed her abusive husband in his sleep (defensible as that choice
might have been).
Yet
that is the journey we are asked to take in The
Spitfire Grill, now at the Beck Center for the Arts. Listen, musicals
involving homicide are fine, whether you prefer the grisly in-person violence
of Sweeney Todd or the campy botanical carnage in Little Shop of
Horrors. But when you lean on the emotions as hard as James Valcq (music
and book) and Fred Alley (lyrics and book) do in Spitfire, in an effort to make nearly every song an anthem to
personal growth and tearful redemption, you need to get a clue.
Percy
is a young woman just released from prison for murdering her man, and she winds
up in the backwater town of Gilead, Wisconsin. Soon, thanks to the
intervention of kindly cop Joe (a quite affable Shane Patrick O’Neill), she’s
working at the only restaurant in town, owned by a predictably ornery old coot
named Hannah.
This is all based on the tearjerker flick of the same name, but the
play doubles down on the melodrama by adding music to the story. But
not just any music. These songs are mostly repetitive A-B-C-B rhyme schemes
tacked onto Sesame Street-simple
tunes, making one yearn for even a moment of Sondheim-like complexity. One
after another, the songs beat you up with their intense desire to wrench
moisture from your eyes. Indeed, earnest sincerity drizzles off this show like
bacon grease off a slow-cooked, pan-fried pork fritter on Hannah’s menu.
From
“A Ring Around the Moon” to “The Colors of Paradise,” and from “Come Alive Again” to
“Shine,” the incessant and weepy musical pummeling doesn’t stop. Along the way,
Percy’s journey from con to cook to a better life is sprinkled with unlikely
events, such as a contest where people send in $100 and an essay about why they
want to own the Spitfire Grill. The winner gets the joint, you see, since Hannah
is ready to move on after she injured herself in a fall.
Of
course, there is a gruff grill regular, Caleb, who is bummed by the quarry closing,
his dishrag of a wife Shelby, who becomes Percy’s best friend, and the town’s post office
mistress and pathological gossip Effy. Also, lurking in the woods is Hannah's son (Derrick Winger), who has his own troubled past. Does it all end happily for everyone? You'll never guess (and I'll never tell...shh!)
As Caleb, the excellent performer Dan Folino fails to
find the second ply in his cardboard character, and shows off his powerful
pipes almost to a fault. Kate Leigh Michalski as Shelby looks suitably morose during her
well-sung solo “When Hope Goes,” and Lissy Gulick's Effy is adorably nosy.
In
the lead roles, Neely Gevaart sings beautifully as Percy and snarls effectively
a couple times. And Lenne Snively as Hannah provides a few dashes of
much-appreciated sarcasm amidst the lollipops and moonbeams. Indeed,
the actors do their jobs well under the direction of William Roudebush. But the
whole thing is so drenched in sugary syrup that they should have hot showers in
the lobby for audience members who need to rinse off the treacle.
And remember:
Whether laughter or tears is your live theater bait,
Vote yes, yes, YES on Issue 8!
And remember:
Whether laughter or tears is your live theater bait,
Vote yes, yes, YES on Issue 8!
The
Spitfire Grill
Through
October 18 at the Beck Center, 17801 Detroit Avenue, Lakewood, 216-521-2540.
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