The Boy Friend: Little Theatre of Savannah

There is a saying, that one cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. While scientists at MIT have proven this to be false, they also found that it takes more than one ear. Which, once again, brings the Savannah Dramaturgy around to the perennial problem of Theatre in Savannah... more resources are needed.

Upon seeing the latest offering of the Little Theatre of Savannah, this author found this to be all the truer. The Boy Friend, performed in the Seaboard Freight Station Theatre, falls all too short. This is through no real lack of effort on the part of the people involved, who should be applauded, but instead through various inherent shortcomings.

The story itself is almost as old as the theatre. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, and boy gets girl in the end. This time honoured story can be found in musicals from Guys and Dolls, Anything Goes, and West Side Story. The Boy Friend is perhaps the most overt of all of these, but that is no real weakness, as such a primal story must have been addressed eventually, much to the pleasure of this author and anyone else with a romantic interest.

Yet, one cannot help feeling that the Little Theatre's production might have missed the point here. In the program notes, director DJ Queenan writes of a 1950's show spoofing earlier the musicals of the 1920's. And yet, if this piece is to be thought of as a send up, it most certainly lacks teeth, both scripturally and in the production. Though opportunity is ample to engage in self-referential fun, this is rarely done. Indeed, the opening song of "Perfect Young Ladies," seems a perfect opportunity. And yet, the tongues stay very firmly out of the cheeks and falls flat in a meta-theatrical sense. Indeed, only once, when Madame Dubonnet (played with gusto by Carol Melton) calls the spotlight to herself in true diva fashion before breaking into song. As such, there is a lost expectation here.

Further, there is a sharpness that one find highly desirable, and lacking, in this particular piece. Unfortunately, the Freight Station Theatre is an unforgiving venue, and errors can be glaring. Even small issues such as which particular leg is extended in the choreography do truly stick out around here. The combination of venue and the demands of the piece itself does the Little Theatre no favours. Combine this with the inherent limitations of the community theatre (which was addressed in the curtain speech preceding the show) and one most certainly has vagueness worthy of Monet himself. Unfortunately, beautiful as Monet's work is, the content of the piece does not lend itself to impressionism or watercolour.

Further, this author must wonder that an art city like Savannah lacks willing musicians. While musicians in the theatre are traditionally paid, even in community theatre, one must wonder if there is nobody out there. The use of electronic instuments (primarily keyboard and synth) kept the full impact of this piece from reaching the audience. Musicals are effective primarily because of the music, pure and simple. Indeed, one can often stand in the parking lot of a theatre after a musical and be treated to an impromptu performance of most of the showstoppers, being variously hummed, whistled, and sung by the departing audience. And yet, such was not the case. Proper orchestration helps to give the music a truly visceral effect, as one's skin thrills to the cadenza of a trumpet and the rhythm thumps in one's chest. And yet, the reliance upon electronic instruments instead of tradition orchestration robbed the audience of such an effect and failed to produce the impromptu parking lot performances. Indeed, by the end of this show, one finds oneself willing to sell one's soul for a trumpet (one should note that is production made limited use of trumpet, played from backstage by a member of the cast, but the effect was limited) or one's firstborn for an entire brass section.

And yet, despite all of this, one truly wants to feel the transportation inherent in the genre. The cast performs with such effort that one truly wishes that their boundless goodwill can be translated into the audience identification their pains deserve. Jeroy Hannah, who was also featured in the Little Theatre's The Moustrap, presents the clear-cut and slightly uptight of Percival Browne to great effect. Hortense (Lariena Brown) struts her stuff to delightful effect in "Nicer in Nice." Nick Bushkar as Tony, who could not have been better rendered by Norman Rockwell, is the quintessential perfect young man, and Polly Browne's (Jonette Page) shock and dismay at the possible derailment of her fledgling love affair grips the heartstrings of anyone who has ever feared the same.

In the end, this production was to be seen once, repeat performances neither needed nor desired. The fault is not that of the cast, but instead should be placed directly at the feet of the community's limitations. However, it should also be noted that this author also barely managed to get a ticket to the performance. Evidently, it clicked for some. Given that the average age of the audience was "post-mortem," perhaps there is something that this author needs time to see.