Christopher Marobella as a sexually arrested demagogue had the looks and charismatic voice, but not the inner weight of -- even -- a Bill Clinton. Like most of the actors, Josh Liveright's ultimately presidential character was afflicted with a single, over-riding eccentricity (in his case, machismo) which yielded scant variety.
Luckier was Margaret Howard as a confused cross between Candide and Jackie Onassis. She cried real tears, developed her character, and looked gorgeous when smiling. Jay Rosenbloom went from the gruesome smarminess of a TV weatherman to the Buffalo Billishness of a press agent, which was no mean feat. And Lisa McNulty, as a step-sister from Hell, frantically chewed the scenery, while Linda Ames Key did wonderful things like swooning hilariously over a piece of wood. Shaun Powell played three minor characters with subtle tics a movie camera would die for.
Others in the ensemble included Jeremy Gold, Andrew Vandusen, Belinda Morgan, and Joe Goscinski.
Deborah R. Rosen created a marvelous barnyard world for this hoe-down of a play, with surprise windows and real doors that begged for farce to march through. The lighting by Russell H. Champa neatly framed the show. Even the elegant house lights reflected the company's concern for an audience's pleasure.
The sound by Kurt Kellenberger was excellent, partly because the small, high space provided exquisite acoustics for superior amplification. The costume design by Lois J. Eastlund treated the eyes with such pretty pictures as a plaid jumpsuit, a gorgeous satin presidential robe, and a blue-clad woman handling a red feather duster
Much of the humor hit the mark in a gently whimsical way with lots of intelligent one-liners ("The welfare children are here to be dandled, sir") that struck some members of the audience funny, though nothing left anyone on the floor.
With guns in every guest room of a near-future White House, something was bound to happen. But the play' s "Nashville" ending, though spectacular, just fell to pieces by ignoring exactly those elements the author criticizes our tabloid world for lacking: namely, sincerity, meaning, and heart. Thus, what should have been tragi-comic was neither: just the flashy, noisy finale of a meaningless hail of bullets -- amazingly well executed.
Copyright 1999 Marshall Yaeger