Shell Game

The good news for The Phantom—clearly a man of humble means and modest tastes—is that Pajama Game did not tax his moderate talents. Was it loaded with symbolism or double entendres? Did it offer social commentary on the post-war American caste system? Was it a psychological treatise on the division of power between the sexes in the age of the nuclear family?

Nah. It was a cute musical created in the days when writers simply wrote a story around some good songs. The story was simple: Boy meets Girl. Girl denies feelings for Boy. Girl nevertheless has wholesome but lustful feelings for Boy. Girl decides to disregard everything her dead mother taught her or would want her to do. Girl then jumps Boy. (This story line, by the way, was plain to The Phantom, but he acknowledges that it may have been less clear to less discerning patrons.)

The Theater Company’s production of Pajama Game was a game effort with some elements that were worthy of fame and others that were rather lame. The Phantom was glad to see the actor who played Hines return to TTC. This platter-spinning Kool Kat is a familiar, accomplished actor who is unfailingly a delight, and he was entertaining once again. As an added bonus (what would you expect to pay, Ladies and Gentlemen?), Hines performed a tidy little dance number with the sparkling and very funny Mabel. It was lots of fun. But wait, there’s more. The Phantom hopes you kiddies paid attention to what a seasoned actor does when the script calls for “drunk.” The belligerence was there, the loud was there (but only when it needed to be) and simmering anger spiced up the mix. But he did not stagger and bumble and slur every word. Moderation, people. Learn from Hines, and rein it in.  So, Hines did a phine job and gets a hearty clap, clap from The Phantom.

Gladys was another veteran who turned in a wonderful performance. Gladys is consistently phine whether she is the lead or a co-star or a member of the chorus. She gives 110% in all of those roles, so she’s a generous actor (and choreographer), and The Phantom is always pleased when she shows up in a show. Supporting actors who steal focus and who are too self-important should study Gladys’s good-natured and selfless support of the shows in which she appears.

We also enjoyed the choreographer’s chops and most of the chorus in the “Racing with the Clock “ number. We had seen the rolling desks before, but this number gave them a fresh new bent.

So phar, so good. The discerning reader of this site (Uh, oh. Note The Phantom’s use of a singular noun. Is there only one person reading these words who is capable of sound judgment?) [Surely not. The Phantom’s phans are a skilled bunch.] {Indeed, even if he wished to distinguish his phaithful phans from ordinary visitors to this humble site—such as those who prefer fake compliments to thoughtful guidance and truth—The Phantom is certainly using the phrase “the discerning reader” in a collective sense that describes most of his flock.} <And even if he is not, consider yourself, gentle reader: You, most assuredly, are the perspicacious person to whom he refers.> /Where were we? Oh, right:\ has undoubtedly noticed that we have yet to mention our leads. There’s a reason. The Phantom, as kindly as the next man, always hesitates before giving voice to the mildest wee criticism.

Let’s take our male lead. Sid looked too young, but he had a mature voice and demeanor that belied his boyish countenance. He also gave us a lovely rendition of the classic song, “Hey There.” Quite gorgeous, actually. But he was either less attentive to or less adept at some other songs, and he fell victim to an ailment that seems to be the curse of the Valley’s community companies: yelling when any sort of passion or intensity is appropriate. People, people, let’s take LOUD out of our repertoire, shall we? If someone (the Director, perhaps?) [Indeed, who else??) {Come on, Director, do us the kindness of keeping your cast under control.} doesn’t get our actors to quit yelling at their hapless audiences, the sound of The Phantom’s eye-rolling may actually begin to drown out the noise onstage.

The Phantom was also disappointed with the (lack of?) direction given our female lead, Babe. She was tough, sassy, tough, strong-willed and tough. And pretty. Quite becoming, actually.  She was tough, too. And therein lay the problem. The show was written for the fifties, costumed for the fifties and, fiscally, is all fifties. But here was Babe struttin’ the street-wise, head-bobbing, eyebrow-raising, oh-no-she-dinnit ‘tude of a 2008 tough girl.  Secure in his manhood, The Phantom likes tough gals. But Babe was anachronistic. She was also out of place. Babe was a phine actor who sang and danced very well and who was quite easy on the eyes, and we would have liked her very much had her interpretation of her character been more in touch with the context surrounding her. Unfortunately, her manner was distracting. It detracted from, rather than augmented, the play. She was 50 years too modern, and she would have been more convincing and endearing had her behavior not been so oddly mismatched to her time and place. The Phantom wonders why the Director didn’t notice. Help your cast, Director, when they make well-intentioned but wrong-headed choices.

So Hines and Gladys and Mabel were great, and Sid and Babe were able actors with Achilles heels.  There were also a couple of other characters who—The Phantom must be unstintingly straightforward here—had us grimacing and gritting our teeth. Endurance was the order of the day. Have faith, children, this scene will surely end sooner or later, and that person will depart.

Take Prez. Please. The character was a cur who was presumably intended to be a laughable philanderer. You know the type: a charming rogue whose dalliances are cute. The actor performing this part sang well, but—and The Phantom is genuinely uncertain where to place this blame—he was not at all amusing or appealing. He was unseemly and unsettling. His ruthless pursuit and exploitation of his subordinates was callous and wholly off-putting. He was a horny little toad. Is the part unredeemable for modern audiences no matter who plays it? Was the actor—who seems to be a cheery sort—just a poor choice for the part? The Phantom is unsure.

The Phantom also suffered when Mr. Hasler stalked the stage with overly loud—again!—blustering in oddly unconvincing efforts to be manly and fierce. He was certainly a sizable fellow, but a greedy taskmaster and titan of industry he was not.

So the principal players were a mixed bag. But a hearty Phantom shout-out goes to the chorus, who did a phine job. “Hernando’s Hideaway” was a hoot. The choreography was delightful, too, except for the decision to arrange one number so that it could build to one of the leads doing—quel suprise!—a running handspring. On occasion, TTC choreographers decide to take advantage of a cast member’s particular talent, such as the aforementioned handspring, but they should resist that temptation when the talent is unique. In this case, before we got to the Featured Moment, we had to endure some dreadful cartwheels and such by people whose talents, shall we say, lay elsewhere. It was too steep a price to pay.

On the whole, the show was another in a string of successes for the Theater Company. The Phantom thoughtfully suggests, however, that TTC strive for as much substance as style. Its productions tend to be opulent, but its characters are sometimes half-baked. The Phantom looks forward to more performances from TTC casts that inspire empathy and compassion in addition to admiration for their clever costuming.

Other than that, it was great.

The Phantom