'Fantasticks' Weaves Magic -- Sometimes

‘Fantasticks’ Weaves Magic — Sometimes

By Norm Gibson

(News Drama Critic)

Why does the Ann Arbor Civic- Theatre production of “the Fantasticks” in Trueblood Auditorium seem to flash to life briefly in the second act?

Because it is a musical which encourages the best and worst in a cast. With minimum scenery called for in “The Fantasticks,” a highly expert and professional cast can weave atmosphere and feeling from nothing.

At times, the Civic Theatre production weaves the magic spell, but the magicians are not always those to whom the greatest burden is entrusted.

An audience is invited by the Tom Jones lyrics, whimsical plot, and the Harvey Schmidt music to use its imagination. Unless the audience is given help, though, its imagination is bound to stray — to the point where it is trying to imagine how the musical might be done better.

As matters stood at last night’s opening, first class choreography and staging worked their ways into some ordinary song and dance numbers and scenes. Where the fantasy should have been soaring at its most improbable highest, it was sluggishly groping for impetus. There are sections in the musical which call for very earthly, naturalistic acting. This is where the cast strangely chose to impart an unreal quality.

While the musical is seeking to extoll both heaven and earth, to laugh at the stuff dreams are made of, to delineate what fools we mortals be, it demands the accent be in the right places. When this does not happen . . . good-bye to all Jones and Schmidt had in mind.

Michael Reinhart is one of the cast of eight who perceives what the musical is all about. As the moonstruck love-plagued boy in love with the girl next door, Reinhart has the expressions and mannerisms which dreamily call forth what once was so piguant and later seems so silly to all of us.

Ginger Myers, as the girl next door, captures much of the same spirit, with a habit of expressing giddiness at the tinkly top range of her voice.

Then there are those two irascible, irreconcilable fathers played by Zeke Jabbour and David Harbison. Surprisingly, they are song and dance men playing at being fathers Capulet and Moantague in the modern manner. But, no, when we see them again, they are a comedy team putting together a few moments of intended hilarity. In addition, Jabbour last night apparently was taking the stage with the added liability of a near case of laryngitis.

Meanwhile, back to where they are giving a reasonable imitation of “The Fantasticks,” a couple of funny men are worth watching.

Wilcox is outlandish enough to be a success as the stilted, pompous old actor whom time and tide have rolled over and washed into oblivion. As his painted Indian sidekick, Jim Kane affects a cockney accent, but Kane’s best is when he silently demonstrates how a man who has made a career of dying executes his specialty.

Director Jerry H. Bilik’s use of Alice Borushko as the mute, instead of the usual male actor, satisfactory because Miss Borushko is. Her movements are graceful and feminine, but some may miss the slightly erratic movements, the Charlie Chaplin ungainliness, often given the part.

The musical has a framework which stands or falls on the work of the actor who play El Gallo. In this production, Jack Harris strains mightily to put the frame into place.

It is a heavy load sometimes, but the promise of better things often is evident in the Civic Theatre production. Anyway, the orchestra, with Ruth Johnson at the piano, Lin Hathaway playing the harp, Kay Honey on bass and Randy Kwaiser at the drums deliver on the promise.

Further productions are at 8 p.m. today through Saturday and at 7 p.m. on Sunday.