Pasadena Playhouse News

Because I’m sorta obsessed on this, being a subscriber who’s been treated poorly:

  • From the “So Why Couldn’t You Give Me That Donation Letter…” Department: It looks like the Playhouse is moving closer to filing for bankruptcy (nice to keep the subscribers informed… oh, you didn’t). What’s interesting here is the bit about how they only want large donors: “Eric Andrist, co-founder of the Musical Theatre Guild, is one of those who stepped forward to help raise money for the Playhouse, setting up a Facebook account and raising what he said was $18,000 in pledges. Now he’s suspended fundraising and has called off plans for an online auction, critical of what he called “hurdles” put in his way. Andrist said he and others believe the playhouse is snubbing small-scale supporters and is unwilling to try anything new, including his idea for online links allowing people to donate with credit and debit cards. When the playhouse closed, Eich [the Executive Director] said they were touched by many offers of help, but small- scale fundraising wouldn’t solve the problem.” As for the subscribers, Eich said, “We’ll find some way to take care of the subscribers who gave us their loyalty and confidence … and I’m pretty sure they won’t be disappointed.” Hint: This subscriber already is, due to the lack of communication, and has subscribed elsewhere.
  • From the “So What is Sheldon Doing?” Department: What originally prompted this post was an article in Playbill today about Sheldon Epps mounting a Ray Charles musical on Broadway (the one that had disappointing reviews when it played the Playhouse in 2007). Now, the Playhouse has done some great new musicals over its years. Some came close to Broadway (“Vanities”), some have gone to London but surprisingly not to Broadway (“Sister Act”), and some should have gone to Broadway but didn’t (“Mask”). But the last thing Broadway needs is another jukebox musical.
  • From the “And What About The Building?” Department: At least the building is getting some use. The facility itself is being rented out for some performing arts events, but bringing in precious little to the Playhouse itself. At least the restaurant there (“Elements”) got a good review.
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Pasadena Playhouse: How Not To Treat Subscribers

The LA Times Culture Monster Blog (lat_cultrmnstr) just published an article with an update on the Pasadena Playhouse. Needless to say, it does not leave me—a 20 year subscriber—with a good taste in my mouth.

A few select quotes and responses:

Meanwhile, the Playhouse on Monday sent its subscribers an e-mail message thanking them for “your patience as we continue to seek solutions to the financial difficulties.” The message added that “we are pleased to say that we have new optimism in our prospects.”

Hmmm, we’re long-time subscribers, and I’ve communicated with both the Playhouse and with Sheldon Epps directly via email. I never received such an email.

Eich said some subscribers have demanded their money back, “but when we explain the process we’re in, they’re OK. Generally, they’ve been reasonable. I understand their anger. We’ve appealed for subscribers’ patience, and so far, so good.”

All I asked for was a donation letter, so I can deduct the lost money from my taxes. I was told they couldn’t give us a donation letter yet on the advice of their lawyers.

If the Playhouse does declare bankruptcy, subscribers would have the right to file claims as creditors with the U.S. Bankruptcy Court, in hopes of getting back at least part of what they paid for their tickets.

Realistically, how many subscribers would do this, and how many would likely see anything. Donation letters cost under a dollar, and could get money back into subscribers hands, without the Playhouse having to pay anything, and with no legal fees.

Meanwhile, Eich said, other theater companies have proposed plans to honor the subscriptions if the Playhouse can’t. Those offers are “generous,” he said, but at this point Playhouse leaders still aim to get the theater running again and present the shows subscribers paid for.

Translation: Instead of creating goodwill for theatre in Los Angeles, and keeping your patrons attending theatre, you’ll rather leave them in the cold while you sort things out. These offers cost the Playhouse nothing, but make their patrons feel cared about.

“It’s so important to the organization, and the arts in Los Angeles, that subscribers be taken care of, that people don’t have a bad taste in their mouth,” Eich said.

Alas, reading this article, I’ve now got that bad taste.

Earlier today, Rick Culbertson in the “Thoughts from an LA Theatre Producer” blog (latheatreprod) wrote about the different between good and bad theatre, and between quality and cheap theatre. Quality, where they spend a lot of money on sets and costumes, isn’t necessarily good theatre, and cheap theatre (such as many of the 99-seat plan theatres) doesn’t equate to bad theatre. This situation with the Pasadena Playhouse has me seriously thinking about this dichotomy, and I’d rather my subscription dollars go to support good theatre (such as Repertory East Playhouse or Cabrillo Music Theatre) than the supposed “quality” theatre. I think I’ll explore subscriptions at places like Havok, the Blank, West Coast Ensemble, InterACT, or the Colony when they come around. For “quality” theatre, I think I’ll stick with Goldstar, LAStageTix, or Hottix.

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Don’t let it be forgot / that once there was a spot / for one brief shining moment

At the end of the musical “Camelot”, King Arthur is on the stage alone, realizing that the grand notions and the lofty ideas of his beloved Camelot are gone. A boy comes running up to him, wanting to be Knight of the Round Table, based on the stories he has heard of the legendary Camelot. King Arthur then sings the final reprise of the song Camelot, saying:

Each evening, from December to December,
Before you drift to sleep upon your cot,
Think back on all the tales that you remember
Of Camelot.
Ask ev’ry person if he’s heard the story,
And tell it strong and clear if he has not,
That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory
Called Camelot.
Camelot! Camelot!
Now say it out with pride and joy!

Yes, Camelot, my boy!
Where once it never rained till after sundown,
By eight a.m. the morning fog had flown…
Don’t let it be forgot
That once there was a spot
For one brief shining moment that was known
As Camelot.

When it was announced that the Pasadena Playhouse was closing, I thought that a revision of Camelot was a poor choice for a final musical. It was an old retread, a musical that had been done to death. I felt that the Pasadena Playhouse should go out in full glory, doing a successful new musical or something. After all, it certainly had the history of successful musicals, from Radio Gals, Sisterella, and Heartbeats to recent successes such as Mask, Vanities, and Sister Act. But last night, as I sat in my subscription seat watching the penultimate presentation of their current musical, Camelot, this song was sung…. and it hit me. This was the perfect musical to go out on.

So, theatre-goers, each evening from December to December, before you drift to sleep upon your cot, think back on all the stories you remember, of the Pasadena Playhouse. Ask ev’ry person if he’s heard the story, and tell it strong and clear if he has not, that once there was a fleeting wisp of glory that was the Pasadena Playhouse… This was a theatre that, during its second lifetime, achieved some remarkable successes in its old castle on El Molino. Yet for all its lofty ideas and excellence of execution, it was done in by something petty: money woes. And thus, Camelot was destroyed, to exist only in our memories. A fitting metaphor indeed.

And so, we come to Camelot, the final production of the current Pasadena Playhouse team. In this production we see some of the greatness that the Pasadena Playhouse could do, and we also see what lead to its downfall, and hints of what could have saved it.

Camelot, like the Pasadena Playhouse, has led a troubled life. A musical with wonderful music and lyrics by Frederick Lerner and Alan Loewe, it has always had a troubled life. The book, based on “The Once and Future King” by T. H. White an adapted by Alan Lerner, struggled to tell the story coherently, plus there was loads of music that couldn’t be fit in. Numerous reinventions were tried, and although people were attracted, it never quite worked. Sound familiar?

This latest incarnation was directed by David Lee, who has done revisions of a number of classic musicals at The Pasadena Playhouse, including Can-Can and Do I Hear a Waltz?. His approach to Camelot was to strip it to its bones — he removes the extraneous characters and pagentry, taking the story down to its heart: the love triangle between Arthur, Guenivere, and Lancelot. No extravagent sets and scenery: his stage is bare-bones, consisting of a series of platforms. No elaborate castles: his castle is a portrait hanging on the wall, his trees are branches, and his round table is implied. No fancy props and costumes: his clothing is peasant-garb, his armor is a shiny vest. No excesses of people: his cast is small, consisting of the three principles (Arthur, Guenny, and Lance), three knights (Lionel, Dinadan, and Sagramore), a son (Mordred), and a youth. Yet Lee pulls out of this staging the gem: a story that works, characters that are accessible and human, a Camelot writ small. Yet there are still problems: the end seems to come too fast, there are elements of the story you want to see but are hidden and untold. You feel there are goings-on behind the scenes that are important to explain the downfall, but you can only guess. As I said before, sounds familiar.

There are aspects of this staging that are wonderful. The actors turn and announce the scenes. They revel in the playfulness of the minimal setting. No where is this seen better than in the joust scene, where a page repeatedly grabs a sack of wood, and scrambles up the scenery only to drop it down back to the stage to create the sound of the “whack” of battle. It is seen in the lusty joy of The Lusty Month of May; it is seen in the playfulness of You May Take Me To the Faire, and in the repressed fury of Fie on Goodness.

However, it isn’t just the staging that makes this work. When it soars, it soars for what always makes the Playhouse soar: the actor. The casting of this Camelot was perfection. As King Arthur, Shannon Stoeke (who we have seen before in WCE’s Assassins) creates a youthful king that is unsure of himself, a wry leader who is trying his best but is outdone by circumstances. As Guenevere, Shannon Warne (who, again, we’ve seen before in Cabrillo’s Seven Brides of Seven Brothers) is perfection: lusty, playful, coy, smart-sexy (the best kind). She isn’t the cold princess of Julie Andrews; she is a reluctant princess with a wench inside, a strong queen who knows what she wants. She reminds me of Susan Egan who is sexy and playfully inhabits her characters. As Lancelot, Doug Carpenter (who, again, we’ve seen before in Life is But a Dream) is the handsome powerful knight, who perhaps loves himself before his kingdom, and this love takes him down a dangeous path. Carpenter wasn’t as playful as the other two leads, but inhabited his pride and self-confidence. All were great.

The knights of the kingdom were equally strong, although they were more charactures than distinct personalities: Zachary Ford as Sir Lionel, Richard R. Segall as Sir Dinadan, and Andrew Ross Wynn as Sir Sagramore. Newcomer Will Bradley plays various small roles in the first act, but shines in the second as an evil Mordred. Rounding out the cast is the youth, Seth Daly, who again plays multiple roles, as well as a mean violin. This minimal cast is perfection.

Technically, this production worked well, thanks to a number of Pasadena Playhouse regulars. Tom Buderwitz did a delightfully minimal set (as opposed to the elegant but overdone sets the Playhouse usually does). Lighting, by Michael Gilliam, mostly worked, although at times the spot was a bit harsh and shakey. Other lighting elements (especially the changes to the moon at the end to reveal a smiling Merlin) were great. The costumes by Maggie Morgan were minimalist but served their purpose: to provide a hint of the elegance without being overdone. The sound, by Vikram Kirby was clear thoughout, although initially you could sense the amplification. Kirby wins the best bio award: his starts out with the line “Vikram Kirby’s design philosphy incorporates a deep love for the laws of physics as well as a promise to always be willing to try to bend them if the work requires it.” Providing the excellent musical direction, as well as orchestrations and additional arrangements, was Christy Crowl (who led the offstage 12 member orchestra). Musical staging by Mark Esposito was more integrated into the story than formal dancing, and was quite good.

Casting was by the ominipresent Michael Donovan, with Patty Onagan handing press and the Playhouse magazine. Jill Gold served as Production Stage Manager, with Lea Chazin as Assistant Stage Manager. Thanks also to all the behind-the-scenes folks and the house managers we saw every visit. We will miss you.

This was the penultimate production of “Camelot”. Tonight is the last show of “Camelot”, and the last production on the Playhouse mainstage. Don’t let it be forgot, that once there was a spot, for one brief shining moment that was known as the Pasadena Playhouse.

Upcoming Theatre. As for us, what’s upcoming on the theatre calendar? Next week sees us at our other subscription home, Cabrillo Music Theatre, for “The Andrews Brothers”. The weekend after that has two shows: Saturday evening sees us in North Hollywood for Interact Theatre’s “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels at the NoHo Arts Center, with Sunday bringing the February installment of “Meeting of Minds”: Episode 23 with Jean Smart as Catherine the Great, Ian Buchanan as Oliver Cromwell, and James Handy as Daniel O’Connell. The last week of February is open, although I’m debating “Celedine” at the Colony Theatre. In March, I’m waiting for discount tickets to show for “The Story of My Life” at the Havok Theatre, hopefully to be booked on March 6. I also have to schedule “On Golden Pond” at REP East, which I’ll schedule for either March 14 or March 28. All I know for sure is that March 21 will be “Meeting of Minds”. April brings more of potential interest, mostly unscheduled, including “Damn Yankees” at Van Nuys HS (April 15-17), “See What I Wanna See” at the Blank (4/10-5/23), the So Cal Ren Faire (4/10-5/23), “12 Angry Men” at REP East (4/23-5/2), and “The 39 Steps” at the Ahmanson (4/27-5/16).

As always: live theatre is a gift and a unique experience, unlike a movie. It is vitally important in these times that you support your local arts institutions. If you can afford to go to the movies, you can afford to go to theatre. If you need help finding ways, just drop me a note and I’ll teach you some tricks. Lastly, I’ll note that nobody paid me anything to write this review. In fact, I receive no remuneration for any reviews I write.

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A Last Letter to the Pasadena Playhouse

Tonight, we’re going to our last performance at the Pasadena Playhouse; they cease operations after tomorrow night’s show. Given the situation, I thought I would share with you the letter we’re bringing for the Executive Director:

It is with sadness and dismay I learned of the cessation of operations of the Pasadena Playhouse via the Los Angeles Times, with your followup letter dated January 29, 2010, where you indicated you did not yet have a determination of how you will treat your subscribers.

We have been subscribers at the Pasadena Playhouse since the 1988 production of “Down an Alley Filled With Cats”. Twenty-two years is a long relationship (longer than many marriages these days). It is perhaps telling that the news of the closure wasn’t communicated to the supporters of the Playhouse first, but via the public media. This is hurtful to the subscriber relationship, and it is something that the Playhouse can ill afford.

Given the financial distress of the Playhouse, I believe it is unlikely that we will be seeing a refund of our subscription payment proportional to the six shows not produced. I also believe it is unlikely that the Playhouse will resume normal operations in the 2010 calendar year, as the requisite restructuring and reexamination of the Playhouse mission and marketing needs to be done carefully, not quickly. We subscribers may see benefits offered by other theatres as a gesture of goodwill, but these benefits will not have been funded by our subscription dollars.

To that end, I’m of the belief that the prorated balance of our subscriptions is, in effect, a donation to the Playhouse. To that end, I believe the Playhouse should, at minimum, issue donation letters so that we can legally deduct the prorated balance of our subscriptions on our income tax returns as a charitible donation. For my family (account #xxxx), our season tickets were $815.00, for which we have received as benefit one pair of tickets out of the seven pairs promised in the season. Six-sevenths (6/7ths) of our season ticket total is $698.57, and so we would appreciate a letter acknowledging a charitible donation in June 2009 of that amount.

Thank you very much for the years of excellent productions, and we wish the Playhouse a quick and strong recovery so that operations may be resumed for the 2011 season.

I think it is suitably polite. It will be interesting to see how they respond.

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The Letter from The Pasadena Playhouse

Well, we received “the letter” in today’s mail. Alas, it didn’t say much — in fact, I learned more about the closure from the Los Angeles Times. Again, an example of treating your subscribers poorly. Here’s what they wrote:

Dear Friends,

By now many of you have heard the news that the Playhouse is taking some necessary steps towards financial reorganization that will affect our production calendar of upcoming events. In agreement with our board, we have made these choices to address serious financial challenges affecting the organization, in order to determine a responsible solution for our ongoing operation.

Out of respect and gratitude to you, our loyal subscribers, we wanted to tell you personally that we intend to meet these challenges head-on with strong fiscal oversight and transparency. We will diligently keep you informed about how these decisions will affect you and your current subscription. Please be assured that we have every intention of making every effort to find ways to honor our obligations to you. We certainly will share more information about how we intend to do that when we have more specific answers.

We profoundly thank you for your patience and your understanding. As always, we appreciate your tremendous support of the work on our stage and the overall mission of this great theatre.

Sincerely,

/s/ Sheldon Epps, Artistic Director
/s/ Shephen Eich, Executive Director

Here’s another excellent take on the situation from the LA Stage Blog. In particular, I truly recognize these sentiments:

But even under the best-case scenario, the cancellation of a subscription season at a theater of Pasadena’s prominence is terrible news for everyone who wants theaters to grow.

A subscription asks that you pay money upfront with the trust that you will at least see the promised fare, even if you don’t like all of it. Even that risk – that you might not like some of the plays – is too much for many consumers in today’s environment. Several years ago, Pasadena Playhouse instituted a program in which subscribers who didn’t like a particular production could receive additional ticket vouchers for shows that they were confident that they would enjoy.

Still, subscriptions are declining nationwide. If you add the additional chance that you might not even see five-sixths of what you bought, every arts subscriber within 50 miles will be spooked. Bye-bye, subscriptions. Bye-bye to the idea that theaters can do any planning or budgeting based on subscriptions, and to the ideal that a subscriber community feels loyalty to the institution beyond the merits or flaws of any particular production.

In a subscription-less world, it’s each show for itself, each theatergoer for himself or herself. Of course many smaller theaters and larger commercial productions already operate on that basis. But it’s a challenge to do so if you want to pay your performers and staff regular salaries as opposed to gas reimbursements, if you want people to be able to make a living in the theater instead of doing it as a glorified hobby.

Well said. The death of the Playhouse hurts the entire Theatre-going and -producing community in Southern California.

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Musings on the Demise of the Pasadena Playhouse

I was doing some more thinking this morning about the Pasadena Playhouse, and why it failed. Some of this was prompted by an article by Charles McNulty in the LA Times, and some is just my own thoughts. So what, in my opinion, led to the Playhouse’s demise:

  • They didn’t treat their subscribers well. Essential to any theatre is a loyal subscription base. They are your regular patrons, and they provide a source of donations. So they need to be treated well. In recent years, the Playhouse just wasn’t doing that. Subscription renewals would go out in June, often before the shows were even finalized. The amount of the subscription was growing – last year, it was $402 per ticket for 7 shows for orchestra seats. The check would be sent and… nothing. You wouldn’t get the tickets or any news until late November, if you were lucky. Even in this crisis, there has been little communication (to date, there has been nary a call, email, or letter initiated by the Playhouse to subscribers about the closure). Regular and honest communication with the subscriber base is essential to making them part of the family, and essential for their support.
  • Their mission was muddled. I look back at the seasons (especially since Sheldon Epps took over) to see if I could discern a mission from the productions, and I can’t see it clearly. Was their mission to produce new works? Revivals of old classics, reinterpreted? Push new musicals to Broadway? Promote minority and African-american themed works? Work in partnership with local theatre groups? The Playhouse has done all of thse, even in the same season. The mission of a successful theatre must be clear to patrons know what to expect and what to look for… and to be willing to try something they haven’t heard of. With a muddled mission, non-subscribers might not be tempted to try unknown properties.
  • They didn’t have a school. When one looks at how people mention the Pasadena Playhouse of the past, it is less what was produced on the stage, and more that they learned at the Playhouse school. But the current incarnation of the Playhouse never provided that training group — it just presented productions. Providing the training ground is critical — not only to introduce new actors and technicians to the field, but to build that long term support. If an actor is successful because of their Playhouse training, they will turn around and support the institution financially. The administrators of the playhouse squandered that opportunity.
  • They aimed for the spectacular. Look at the recent productions at the Playhouse that drew the audiences. They were the spectacular, the flash. They were the moving lights, the Ray Charles, the Lena Hornes. So when the Playhouse did something small and intimate, the audience drawn by the spectacular didn’t return. This goes back to the second point: they needed a consistent mission.
  • They didn’t know what they wanted. My wife pointed out that sometimes they wanted to be a large house, and sometimes they wanted to be a small house. Until recently, the experimental stuff was on the mainstage. They also didn’t figure out what community they were going after: Was it the patrician theatre patron (their theatre trips might indicate so)? Was it the African-American community? Was it Pasadena, the San Gabriel Valley, the San Fernando Valley, or Los Angeles? Who was their competition: the Colony-sized theatre, the South Coast Rep-size, or the Center Theatre Group and the Pantages. They had trouble being the best at what they wanted to be, because they never really knew what they wanted to be.

The current incarnation of the Playhouse began in the 1980s, and rapidly found success with “Mail”. We started subscribing a year or so after that with “Down An Alley Filled With Cats”. We stayed with the Playhouse in approximately the same seats (G 23 and 24, although I think originally we were in 27 and 28) for the years after that, through shows that we loved (“Radio Gals”, “Heartbeats”) and shows that we didn’t like. There was only one show that we walked out on (a remake of “As You Like It”) in all the years. The patrons at the Playhouse ran from the famous to engineers like us, from regular theatre goers to first timers. The house managers became like family, to the point where they wanted to see a picture of our daughter instead of our tickets for admission. We will miss it.

We subscribe to a lot of theatres, and see a lot of live theatre. We love the subscription family of Repertory East in Newhall, and we’re part of the crowd at Cabrillo. We’ve become regulars at Meeting of Minds at the Steve Allen. But the Playhouse was special: it was the mid-sized house where we tended to see new plays in early productions. It will be hard to find an equivalent house to replace that.

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More Great News (not): Pasadena Playhouse Closing

More wonderful news: the Pasadena Playhouse is closing after the last performance of “Camelot”. This is just wonderful news (not) on top of the car news of my previous post.

We’re season subscribers. That means we paid quite a bit in tickets (hmmm, about half a catalytic converter) back in June. We’ve only gotten tickets for the first show. According to the article, the new executive director “isn’t sure if the playhouse’s 8,000 subscribers will be reimbursed.” Lovely. Of course, if we are not fully reimbursed (less the cost for the first show), it is effectively a charitible donation… made in 2009. This means we need a donation letter so that we can include it as a donation in the tax returns due in April. Sigh. Not good at all… either for us, or for the larger Los Angeles theatre scene.

ETA: Sayeth the Playhouse in email: “At this time we are not sure how subscribers will be reimbursed for the tickets they have already purchased. All subscribers will be kept informed as more information becomes available. We do not know at this time if that money can be counted as a donation.”

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Powering Up The Jukebox Again

Last night, we went to see “Baby, It’s You” at the Pasadena Playhouse. This was a week earlier than our normal date, because next week around this time I’ll be on an airplane to Hawaii for ACSAC. Unfortunately, this play didn’t leave me with as warm as a feeling as I’m sure the islands will bring.

Baby, It’s You” is a musical retelling of the story of Florence Greenberg, the Shirelles, and Scepter Records. The story itself is potentially interesting: bored New Jersey housewife discovers a girl singing group, goes into the record business, and founds a (for a time) successful label. The story has its ups and downs, including an interracial romance of a married woman in a time where neither were acceptable. The music of the period is fun and bubbly, and there is plenty of opportunity to mine the current waves of nostalgia for the music of the early sixties. So why did this leave me lukewarm? There were a number of reasons.

First, this came across as a jukebox musical with a story tacked on. As a jukebox musical, it was poor: often songs were just snippets, and came fasts and furious with nary a breath between. But the bigger musical problem was outside the musical’s control: there have been too many of this type of musical of late. The best comparison music-wise is The Marvelous Wonderettes, long playing in North Hollywood and just closed in New York, but other musicals such as Life Could Be A Dream, Smokey Joe’s Cafe, and others keep mining the same songs, over and over. As certain songs kept coming up, I kept thinking of the Wonderette’s characterization, and this isn’t a good thing because Wonderette’s was so much better and memorable.

As for the story itself, it was potentially interesting (although again, the stories of the songwriters have been hit-and-miss — witness the problems with Leader of the Pack). However, a read through the real history of Scepter, makes it clear that numerous liberties were taken with the facts of the story. The interesting part of the story (the interracial romance) was played up and then down, and the story couldn’t seem to find the character arc it was supposed to make. Here the music didn’t help: there were points in the story that cried out for musicalization to capture the character’s feelings that dialogue just couldn’t do… but the authors depended on the jukebox songs to do this. They didn’t work. This musical needed to say true to the story, find the character’s arc, and tell that arc with some original songs specific to the story (hell, they probably could have gotten original Scepter writers Burt Bacharach and Hal David to pen it: they are still around, and they’ve written for Broadway before). There were also characters that showed up, disappeared, and the reappeared later with little explanation. In short: the book needed work, and the musicalization of the story needed separation from the jukebox aspect.

The book authors (Colin Escott and Floyd Mutrux) attempted to frame the story through the use of the narrator, Jocko, representing one of the original DJs who worked closely with Scepter. This provided the story, but was ultimately distracting as the actor playing the DJ played a large number of other roles, depending solely on costume changes to allow us to see the different characters. This was also true of a number of other characters (except for the two main leads): they kept popping in and out as different characters, and it was difficult to tell them apart, as well as to identify which groups were actually Scepter groups and which were not. It just served to muddle and confuse the story.

Other than the book problems, the presentation was quite enjoyable and the actors were wonderful. All were strong singers and dancers and a joy to watch. Meeghan Holaway, who we’ve seen recently as Marie Antoinette in Meeting of Minds, played Florence Greenberg with strong acting skills and a surprising singing voice. Her Scepter partner, Luther Dixon, was played by Allan Louis: again, a strong singer and actor with a lovely voice. Marvin Schlacter, Scepter’s publicity man, was played by Matt McKenzie: he had fewer singing opportunities, but was a fun actor to watch.

The remaining actors all played multiple roles: Geno Henderson was remarkable as Jocko and almost every male black singer, including Ron Isley, Chuck Jackson, and Gene Chandler. His performance alone made the show worth it. The Shirelles were played by Erica Ash (Micki), Berlando Drake (Shirley), Paulette Ivory (Beverly), and Crystal Starr Knighton (Doris), but these actresses also played other black female singers of the era, notably Ivory as Dionne Warwick. All were strong singers and dancers, but the books really never established them as more than that–we never got to see them as distinct characters, and as such, we only got glimpses of their acting. Barry Pearl, who we saw recently in Guys and Dolls at CMT, played Florence’s long suffering husband Bernie as well as the Decca Record’s executive Milt Gabler. Adam Irizarry played Florence’s son Stanley, as well as other white singers such as Burt Bacharach. Lastly, Suzanne Petrela (who we’ve seen in a number of productions including Mask and Is He Dead) played Florence’s daughter Mary Jane, as well as white female singers such as Lesley Gore. As I’ve said before: all were strong singers and fun to watch, but their acting skills were underused by the poor book.

The set, which was designed by Anna Louizos, depended heavily on LED projection screens to establish locale. There was a fixed DJ booth on one side, a fixed club entrance on the other, and the center was dominated by the screens, the center stage for action, and the onstage band behind a scrim that was also used for projections. The projections (designed by Jason H. Thompson) were effective in establishing locations, but at times were a bit busy and came across as pre-recorded. The lighting design by Howell Binkley depended heavily on moving lights (there were 7 on-stage, 4 in front of the stage, and 2 to the side), scrollers and conventionals–which was reasonable for the notion of concerts, but perhaps inappropriate for the era of the story. The costumes by Lizz Wolf, with wigs and hair by Carol Doran assisted by Byron J. Batista, worked well in capturing the period and style. The sound design by Martin Carrillo was mostly unnoticable (as it should be), although at times the music and narration sounded recorded (a poor thing).

Music supervision and arrangements were by Richard Perry with co-musical direction by Adam Irizarry, who in addition to acting and singing also led the on-stage 10-piece band (which had great sound). Choreography was by Birgitte Mutrix and was typical girl-group movement. The production was directed by Floyd Mutrux, assisted by Bari Newport. The production stage manager was Ronn Goswick, who we remember from his years with Valley Musical Theatre, assisted by Playhouse long-timer Lea Chazin. Although I don’t normally mention producers, it is interesting to note the big names behind this production: Warner Bros. Theatre Ventures and Universal Music Group, and American Pop Anthology.

Baby, It’s You has been extended at the Pasadena Playhouse until December 20th. Tickets are available through the Playhouse, and you can often find them on Goldstar.

A side note: Funny who you run into when you go to the theatre. Sitting in the same aisle with us last night were Dan Lauria, Diana Ljungaeus, and Bob Ladendorf — the producers of the Meeting of Minds revival who were there supporting Meeghan Holaway, their Marie Antoinette. We took a minute to thank them for bringing back MofM, as well as discussing some of the upcoming productions of the show. They really want to get MofM into colleges, which would be a great thing.

Upcoming Theatre: We’re coming down to the end of 2009, with just a few productions left. Next week brings us to Van Nuys HS for “The Taming of the Shrew” (12/3, 12/4, and 12/5; we’ll likely be going to the Friday, December 4 performance). I fly out to Hawaii for ACSAC on 12/5, returning 12/12 (and, alas, this is why we can’t see Equus at LA Valley College the weekends of 12/3-5 and 10-12). December 20 brings “Mary Poppins” at the Ahmanson. We’ll be going to the movies on Christmas Day (as well as having Chinese food), and the likely movie is “Nine – The Musical”. As always, I’m looking for suggestions for good shows to see, especially if they are on Goldstar or LA Stage Tix. Turning to 2010, January 2010 will bring another episode of Meeting of Minds on 1/17 (currently unticketed), as well as “Lost in Yonkers” at Rep East (starting 1/22, currently unticketed). Another interesting show, although we would have to make a weekend of it, is Duncan Sheik’s “Whisper House at The Old Globe in San Diego, running January 13 through February 21. February 2010 will also bring “The Andrews Brothers” at Cabrillo Music Theatre on February 13. Lastly, sometime in January will be “Camelot” at the Pasadena Playhouse (although they haven’t sent out the dates yet), with Noel Coward’s “Fallen Angels” in February 2010.

Disclaimer: In light of the upcoming rules, you should know that nobody paid me anything to write this review. In fact, I receive no remuneration for any reviews I write.

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