I Heart Hamlet

Sunny Furman is smiling down on the Navasota Theater Alliance. NTA closed out its season (when is the NTA Season? Their website makes it seem an amorphous thing) with a remarkably charming production of I Hate Hamlet. The Phantom remarks about its charm because, in truth, being discerning and wise beyond his tender years, The Phantom really does hate Hamlet. (No, really, he does. And he is not about to bore his phaithful phans with needless justification.) [Indeed, there’s no need to explain. It’s self-evident.] {He won’t interrupt this phine review complaining about a four-hour slog through heavy, angst-ridden language.} <And there’s certainly no need to note the organizational difficulty involved in tracking the dysfunctions and disturbidness of all the crazy characters.> /No, The Phantom, as well-adjusted as ever, eschews eccentricity.\ %Except, perhaps, the excessive use of parenthetical observations% (And then everyone dies, including that old guy two rows up and seven seats over—dead of boredom! No, The Phantom does not need to tell his readers that he hates Hamlet.) ^But where were we? Oh, right^ So with trepidation, The Phantom made his way south to Navasota. But as is often the case with the NTA, he was amply rewarded by the cleverness of the script, the clever deftness of the set, subtle and not-so-subtle costuming (such as the now-infamous Barrymore tights) and the notch-above-really-good acting in this community theater production.

Right away we are introduced to Andrew Rally, TV doctor, heartthrob and stage-actor wannabe. He’s brand new to New York with his pockets full of Hollywood cash, a ditzy girlfriend, an aging agent and a Long Island Iced realtor. All these forces combine to land Andrew in John Barrymore’s old apartment with an undeserved lead role in Summer Shakespeare’s Hamlet. An impromptu séance conjures up the ghost of Barrymore, who is determined to coach our hapless hero to be a heralded Hamlet, and hilarity ensues.

Andrew was delightfully portrayed by an actor who, to everyone’s benefit, is now a familiar face on the Valley’s stages. We are continually delighted by the range of this natural actor, who fills diverse roles with seemingly effortless grace. Comedy or drama, contemporary or classic, this young man seamlessly fits in. And we are glad he does. Thank you, Andrew. Clap, clap and a third (nearly unprecedented) clap. Your comedic timing is spot on. The Phantom does need to note that when your characters are intimidated or overwhelmed, you employ a nervous tic and a second of stuttering that we have seen in too many roles, and it’s becoming an annoyance. It’s a small thing, however, and it subtracts little from the overall excellence of your performance. The Phantom, ever magnanimous, is willing to consider it your signature. So be it. Very good job indeed, and we hope to see you again soon.

John Barrymore was another familiar face and this actor seemed to fit this part to a tee. He was funny, over-the-top and raucous, and The Phantom was greatly entertained. The Phantom’s dear mother also saw the show, and she was much impressed with John’s tights, but her judgment has been suspect since her alien abduction. John’s real-life wife is said to have claimed that the protuberance was no prop, but that’s preposterous, one presumes.

What’s more, this show hit the trifecta. Our third male actor also nailed his role, providing all the bombast and bluster the juicy part deserved. Gary Peter Lefkowitz, Hollywood producer/agent/schmoozer extraordinaire, was hilarious. The Phantom has found this actor to be a bit too bold (and loud) in other shows, but this time his style fit the part. His accent, body language, timing and delivery were perfect. Clap, clap to you Gary Peter Lefkowitz.

Felicia, the realtor, was funny and bubbly and all over New Yorky. She hit every stereotype, and she produced frequent chuckles, the stray guffaw and even the occasional belly laugh. This actress is consistently good and we look forward to seeing her again.

So far, so great. What’s the catch? Well, very little indeed. A couple of trifling matters. In the larger scheme of things, they’re hardly worth mentioning. Really, move along folks, there’s nothing to see here. The show was a hit. Everyone did a great job. The audience was seriously entertained for almost two hours. Go home. It’s over. He liked it.

Oh, all right. Let us think of something.

[pause]

Lillian Troy. Was she German? Was she English? Pick an accent. Any accent. But do, please, pick just one. Lillian did a serviceable, phine job in her role. She supported nicely, but she did distract a bit with a globe-trotting accent that wandered from dialect to dialect. Yo, people, accents are tough. Practice at home. And don’t do one unless you can get it right. Your audience generally won’t fault you for not doing an accent, but doing one badly will get you noticed in an unfavorable light.

Last and unfortunately least, The Phantom was perplexed by Dierdre. Was the character supposed to be annoying and dull, or was the actor in over her head? Dierdre had us scratching our heads and wondering what could possibly have attracted our intrepid hero to this drab woman in the first place.

These were small matters, however, and they did not diminish The Phantom’s overall enjoyment of this gem of a production.

Other than that, it was great.

The Phantom