George  Weinberg-Harter

San Diego Arts

Cygnet's "A Little Night Music" in Old Town

Triple Time Romance
By George  Weinberg-Harter
Posted on Tue, Mar 25th, 2008
Last updated Fri, Apr 4th, 2008

The Cygnet Theatre, San Diego’s most efflorescent young midsize stage company, have accomplished a quantum jump in theatrical quality and scope with their recent move into the Old Town Theatre, which they will now operate in tandem with their original and smaller storefront stage in the Rolando district. Their inaugural Old Town production of Stephen Sondheim’s 1973 musical play "A Little Night Music" proves impressive in many ways. Dynamically directed by Sean Murray, its suggestion of a richly romantic Swedish midsummer amongst the wealthy in 1901 is glitteringly created by costumer Jeanne Reith’s gorgeous turn-of-the-century European styles; by many attractively swirling episodes of dance, choreographed by associate director James Vasquez; by an agile, deeply enticing, and evocative scenic design by Sean Fanning, lighted in sultry and crepuscular moods by Matthew Novotny; and by a capable cast of sixteen singing and dancing local actors.

Much of the audience around me at the performance I attended seemed to be fairly swooning with æsthetic bliss. One eager young man leapt to his feet to give a solo standing ovation at the end of just the first act. And another uxorious fellow cried out "Bravo!" when his actress wife made her first stage entrance. And this was a second night audience, and not one of those unreliably overenthusiastic opening night crowds. The shows looks to be a hit.

Nevertheless, I must issue my personal minority report. Although "A Little Night Music" was showered with justifiable praise and prizes when it first appeared, and has enjoyed a deserved and growing reputation with frequent revivals over the past thirty-five years, there are many aspects of the show – and some things about this production of it – with which I am not well pleased.

Like most musical plays, "A Little Night Music" is not an original story, but was adapted from a non-musical work. Swedish director Ingmar Bergman’s first great film, "Smiles of a Summer Night" [Sommarnattens Leende] (1955), is credited as having "suggested" Hugh Wheeler’s book for the musical. But though the script of "A Little Night Music" does rework the story considerably, it incorporates practically all of the plot details and the characters in Bergman’s brilliant screenplay – far more than a mere suggestion.

Adaptations may transcend, enhance, or sink below the level of their sources – an evaluation quite irrespective of their commercial success. The more illustrious the source, however, the more difficult to equal in quality. Popular fluff often translates into surprisingly good shows. Roger Corman’s quickie horror film, "The Little Shop of Horrors" became a delightfully whimsical musical show. Rogers and Hammerstein gave new and extended lives to some successful plays, such as Ferenc Molnár’s "Liliom" (which was relocated from Hungary to New England to become the musical "Carousel") and Lynn Riggs’ "Green Grow the Lilacs" (which, with the addition of not much more than new songs, became "Oklahoma!"). And Frank Loesser’s considerable restructuring of Sidney Howard’s very dated play "They Knew What They Wanted" into "Most Happy Fella" became Loesser’s masterpiece – a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

Classics can be the hardest to bring off. Although hugely successful, "Man of La Mancha" may be viewed by the judicious as a gross distortion and sentimental vulgarization of Cervantes’ "Don Quixote." Oscar Straus’ 1908 operetta "The Chocolate Soldier" proved such a prettified trivialization of George Bernard Shaw’s "Arms and the Man" (1894), that Shaw (a man of formidable musical taste and perception) forbade any further musical versions of his works until after his death. His demise in 1950 was of course followed six years later by "My Fair Lady" – a vastly popular if unwieldy wedding of Shaw’s largely unedited "Pygmalion" screenplay with Lerner and Loewe’s superb music and lyrics.

"A Little Night Music" presents a more difficult and divided case. Stephen Sondheim is a composer and lyricist of remarkable wit, originality, and charm. His musical plays have often transcended their original commercial genre. Some of his work already bids fair to make the transition to grand opera, along with Gershwin’s "Porgy and Bess" and Bernstein’s "Candide." Within the next century, one or two of Sondheim’s best works could possibly enter the standard repertory of the great opera companies, with Sondheim perhaps considered as notable a theatrical composer of the second or third rank as, say, Jules Massenet (1842-1912) or Arrigo Boito (1842-1918). But for "A Little Night Music" to make that jump, its excess talk needs trimming.

My introduction to "A Little Night Music" was purely through recordings of the musical numbers, which I enjoyed. And I had long admired Bergman’s masterly film "Smiles of a Summer Night." So I had a rough conception of how the synthesized stage show might work. But when I finally came to see a full production, though impressed by the flair of "Night Music"’s complicated theatricality, I was disappointed at how far it fell short of the narrative efficiency, cultured wit, and sophisticatedly indirect eroticism of the classic movie.

Bergman’s original screenplay for "Smiles of a Summer Night" takes the refined form of a romantic comedy of manners, commonly known as farce, in a period setting. "Don’t you love farce?" sings the character Désirée Armfeldt in the musical version’s most famous number, "Send in the Clowns." Yes, Yes! I do love a farce! But I wonder if the author of "Night Music" did, since he omitted so much of what in his source was richly farcical.

Farce is the nearest comedic approach to tragedy. In both theatrical forms, the protagonist’s initially well-ordered world progressively collapses into disaster and catastrophe. Except that in farce it is funny, and at the end he survives and maybe even recovers. (By this definition, the Book of Job should be a farce, but there are too few laughs in it.)

In "Smiles of a Summer Night" the dignified, stuffy, and somewhat ridiculous middle-aged lawyer Fredrik Egerman has married an eighteen-year-old girl, Anne. But youth cannot mate with age. Nearly a year after the wedding, their marriage remains unconsummated due to the bride’s shyness and inexperience combined with the daintiness of Egerman (who proves not too eager a man). And meanwhile, Fredrik’s inwardly tormented young seminarian son Henrik has fallen into unutterable love with his younger stepmother. Here indeed is comedy waltzing close to tragedy in a situation that combines Pantalone with Phaedra.

By the end of the movie, Fredrik has undergone a number of minor and major humiliations, mostly at the hands of his former mistress – the actress Désirée – and her current lover, Count Malcolm, capped by the elopement together of his son Henrik and wife Anne. The film culminates with the reconcilement of Fredrik and Désirée, with mismatches sorted out, and with four different couples united with their appropriate partners, as in all good romantic comedies. (And, as in all great Bergman films, comic or tragic, the continually shifting alignments and misalignments of male and female goes on too.)

"A Little Night Music" follows Bergman’s plot closely. But though it runs nearly an hour longer than the film, the musical, heavy with numbers, omits, truncates, or fudges many telling details, while expanding on others. Some of Bergman’s most brilliant comic sequences involving the mortification of Fredrik are defanged or softened. Egerman’s actual stumble into a puddle whilst sneaking out to visit Désirée is turned into a fictitious alibi. And his final, transforming chagrin during Russian roulette with the Count (a climactically unforgettable dramatic and comic episode) is greatly curtailed and weakened.

The effect of this is to make the Fredrik Egerman of "Night Music" more obviously wry and rueful, more wistfully self-mocking, and more sentimental than the often absurd, sometimes clueless and ultimately more complex and unknowable character of the film. It may be in the nature of musical theatre to make matters less subtle. Consider how Iago’s "Credo in un Dio crudel" in Verdi’s "Otello" exposes the character’s villainy more blatantly than ever Shakespeare does.

Another falling off from movie to stage is in the substitution of Bergman’s urbane European eroticism with a fairly hamhanded American approach to sex. (Underlying America’s obvious obsession with sex lies an antique and ineradicable layer of prudish Puritanism that Europeans find astonishing, particularly when they see it manifested in our recurring scandals involving political and religious figures.) In "Night Music" this reaches its clumsiest manifestation when the maritally frustrated Fredrik embarrassingly asks his old girlfriend Désirée point-blank to grant him a mercy hump for old times’ sake – and then she gives in to him! No such blatant a proposition occurs in "Smiles of a Summer’s Night" despite some other happy instances – both delicate and bawdy – of male and female conjunction. There the dalliance between Désirée and Fredrik is accomplished in elegantly indirect romantic style and then sidestepped with hilarious farcical inventiveness.

Indeed, there is not much that is truly erotic in "A Little Night Music" – at least not in the Cygnet production. Bergman’s film creates a magic glow about the business that the musical seems to try mightily to match, but mainly misses. The sexiest moment in this stage production may be one of beefcake when Trevor Hollingsworth as the mute servant Frid strips his impressive youthful physique down to suspenders and trousers for a roll in the hay with the Egermans’ bodice-bursting maid Petra, a roundheeled and pink little dumpling portrayed with much pert charm and roguish personality by Melissa Fernandes. Otherwise lots of underwear is revealed (costumer Reith especially thorough and accurate on period undergarments), but little real excitement uncovered.

Hollingsworth might be justified in feeling a bit exploited as a sex object. The same character in Bergman’s screenplay, Frid the groom, was a slightly podgy and mature man of jolly volubility who – besides ending up with the little hottie Petra – was given some of the best and wisest lines in the movie. Bergman’s Frid got the great speeches telling how midsummer night may smile three times on three different sorts of lovers. Sondheim’s Frid is just a tacit hunk, and versions of those lines get assigned to Désirée’s crippled and past-it mother, old Madame Armfeldt (played with husky je-ne-regrette-rien hauteur by Sandra Ellis-Troy).

Apparently Frid had at one time been provided by Sondheim with his own solo number, "Silly People," that restored some of the character’s attitude and opinions – but then it was cut from the final version, reducing Frid to just the manly specimen we see (but don’t hear), useful as Petra’s boy toy and for carrying Madame Armfeldt on and off the stage. In Bergman, both Frid and Petra serve as commonsense common folk with a healthy no-nonsense attitude about love and sex, who provide the film’s essential final say and last laugh about all the fraught romantic fuss made by their betters. But the musical opts for stressing sentiment instead.

Sean Murray takes the role of Fredrik Egerman, singing his several important numbers in a clear, pleasant, and well-articulated voice, and giving the character an amiable and natural air of ironic bewilderment. That you may have hoped for something a bit more individualistic, even quirky, in the portrayal – something that seemed a little more than a version of the actor’s own everyday persona – could be laid to too keen a remembrance of other interpretations and to admiring recollections over the past quarter century of the range of Murray’s performances in shows from Gilbert and Sullivan to Shakespeare, from O’Neill to Stoppard. Under the circumstances, however, it seems nearly superhuman that this local human artistic asset has managed so gracefully to fill a leading role while simultaneously directing himself and everybody else in such a complex show, and moreover, as Artistic Director of Cygnet, guiding his troupe in the daunting tasks of refitting and opening in a new theatre.

Murray’s Fredrik interacts smoothly with the sleek sophistication of his leading lady Marci Anne Wuebben’s portrayal of Désirée Armfeldt. She sings the well-known "Send in the Clowns" with melancholy slow sweetness, though it must be lamented that her languid tempo has been enforced with metronomic rigor by a pre-recorded accompaniment. It is impossible to achieve the full effect of live interpretation, the complete emotional involvement when a singer should control her own tempi and rubati in the actual moment of singing and acting, without a mutually visible conductor who should be following soloists or cuing ensembles. The ersatz orchestral sound is not too bad a one, considering that it comes amplified (the unobtrusive work of sound designer George Yé) through speakers (as do the singing voices) and was performed by just three absent musicians – music director Don LeMaster along with Diana Elledge and Sean Paxton. Precisely what instruments this trio were playing is unstated, but presumably it was some synthesis of electronic keyboards and, perhaps, acoustic instruments. The sound was fairly full and lush, withal, though the practice of absentee musicianship itself deplorable.

Courtney Evans is appropriately darling and ingenuous as Anne, the bird-in-a-gilded-cage child-bride of Egerman. And along with Sandy Campbell (in a nicely brittle and sniffy performance as Countess Charlotte Malcolm) the two sopranos sing a luscious interpretation of the sad duet, "Every Day a Little Death," one of the loveliest numbers in the show along with "Send in the Clowns."

The finest singing in the show comes from – no surprise – the redoubtable baritone Randall Dodge, creating some egotistically macho fun in the role of Charlotte’s wayward aristocratic husband, Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm, the trigger-happy military nemesis of poor Egerman. With a full vocal talent like Dodge, the modern vice of miking becomes absurd, and it’s a wonder his rich ringing voice didn’t blow out the circuits on the unnecessary amplifiers.

Sean Cox sang pleasantly as the overwrought and lovesick young Henrik Egerman. And one of the few almost original conceptions of Wheeler’s book, the child character Frederika Armfeldt (Désirée’s daughter, and possibly Fredrik’s as well) who brings a fresh and innocent viewpoint to the sometimes jaded story, was played with attractively girlish enthusiasm by Nicki Elledge. And Kim Strassburger portrays the almost invisible Malla, Désirée’s maid – much diminished from the same salty character of the screenplay.

A kind of a chorus is provided by five named but ever-shifting and essentially characterless characters, played by Shelly Hart Breneman, Michael Dooling, Susan Hammons, Brian Imoto, and Amy Northcutt. They waltz about, injecting themselves, individually or together, into several numbers, seeming to comment in song upon the actions or to express some of the major characters’ unspoken (or unsung) thoughts. They prove, for this production, a rather unhomogeneous and sometimes astonishingly pitch-challenged chorus.

Happily, the audience seemed oblivious in its bliss to what for me alone were probably picky and pedantic cavils about this musical. After all, who but a tiny and diminishing minority knows much about or cares a button for old classic movies in black-and-white – particularly if they’re in Swedish? Might as well scold people for not reading "Beowulf" in Old English. I should be content enough that there are still theatregoers enthusiastic about musically subtle and complex shows thirty-five years old

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About the author: George Weinberg-Harter George Weinberg-Harter has been active in San Diego theatre since childhood, appearing in many local stage productions as well as doing graphic art for them. He has helped start theatre companies, authored and co-authored a number of plays produced locally and is a co-founder of the Fellow Calligraphers of San Diego. He is a member of the Actors Alliance of San Diego, the San Diego Theatre Critics Circle, and the San Diego Press Club, which has presented him with its 2007 First Place Excellence in Journalism Award for Drawing or Illustration.
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Comments

Posted by Marianne	Mon, Mar 31st, 2008
Brilliant review. I savored it as soon as I overcame my shocked awe before so much learning! I agree totally with the conclusion. I love the "Smiles of a Summer Night," and missed the wit that was lost in then Sondheim musical. I know it's heresy, but I don't like musicals overly (I find they too often lack music; I'm a classical snob). However, I do love great films. And Weinberg-Harter's reviews and cleverly apt illustrations. My only criticism (but it's of the gods): he just has too many gifts! Admiration from a fan. Marianne

Posted by John	Mon, Mar 31st, 2008
As always your review is way too long. Since this is a 30 year old show do we really need to hear your review of how Sondheim interprets Simles of a Summer night. Can you just review the production? I've seen A Little Night Music 3 times and this is the best production have seen. It is easy to follow, the singers are amazing and the staging brilliant. Why don't you just stick to the amazing production and the triumph that the young Cygnet company has

Posted by Joseph	Mon, Mar 31st, 2008
Poster of this message also appears(2) to post as: Joseph G.SDO Chorister
Nice review, George. However, I do think you would have enjoyed Sondheim & Wheeler's writing more if you hadn't indulged in a running comparison with Bergman's screenplay -- of the very few Sondheim works that are based on previously written material, all have adapted and altered the source material to varying degrees. The intent was never to "improve" or, of course, worsen the source material, but rather to adapt it for the musical stage, which naturally involves moving elements around and/or shortening them to make way for music/lyric components. [This is nothing new in adaptations by any writer/composer.] So although I have seen “Smiles of a Summer Night” [about five years ago] and found it as delightful and well crafted as you, rest assured that upon encountering “A Little Night Music” first [many years ago], I found it literate, witty, and possessed of very solid legs -- it’s a finely crafted American musical that stands nicely on its own merits. Also, and perhaps I misread your intent, Desiree’s lyric query “Don’t you love farce?” is a bitter jibe at her own folly, not a comment on the overall show or its tone. Sondheim could well have titled this show “Follies,” but had of course already used that title the year before. :-) To the production in question, I didn’t know the accompaniment was pre-recorded. Frankly, though I have numerous friends in the cast, I may refrain from seeing it -- I can’t understand how Cygnet could choose a musical as its debut in a theatre space with a bona fide orchestra pit, and then not sit a few musicians down there. I thought that sort of nonsense died out with the extinction of dinner theatres years ago -- besides giving the impression that the music isn’t terribly important, it prevents any corrections such as the slow tempo you mentioned. To parrot an old ad campaign, is theatre live or is it Memorex? [Why the actors didn’t balk at essentially singing to a metronome is beyond me.] Even though Sondheim’s accompaniments are very full [he’s one of the most formally educated composers in Broadway history], he still writes them with the assumption that they will be orchestrated, and three synthesizers cannot properly serve the work at all. And in a show where one of the characters [Henrik] is supposed to accompany himself with a cello obbligato, I can’t imagine what it must be like to have the recorded sound come out of some side speaker -- the usual [and intended] live cellist down in the pit aids in the suspension of disbelief. I think the new space is going to be a boon to Cygnet. Sean Murray has proven that he has an extraordinary mastery of musicals, including paying attention to the exquisite subtleties that are often overlooked by more ham-handed directors and/or producers. I hope he’ll soon realize that live musicians are as important to a musical’s vividness as are live

Posted by This is my	Tue, Apr 1st, 2008
That is supposed to read: Is this a review or a thesis? Please- critics- just review the shows. Don't suggest changes to the venue, or hit on actors, or give us a review of the movie it is based on. Just review the production. As for the recorded music- I heard it. It is lovely. Lush and full sounding. You might be surprised. And yes- Old Town has an orchestra pit- that will hold about 4 musicians and even then they are cramped. Yes- that would suit this musical's orchestration needs. . Don't judge it unless you see/hear it. Otherwise you are just ignorant. This is a beautiful production of a rarely seen piece. See it while you

Posted by Tom	Thu, Apr 3rd, 2008
I was the "eager young man" who jumped to his feet at the end of act one, mostly because this production is one of the finest I've seen in San Diego. The comparisons with Smiles of a Summer Night-- which I have not yet seen, but plan to-- are valid and obviously well thought-out, but, in my opinion, not relevant to this particular production. Not to say that they don't belong in a review of the show, but simply that they shouldn't detract anyone from giving this production a chance. I thought it was sublime. As for the lack of an orchestra-- I'm not a fan of that either, and trust me, I can spot a synthesized score within the first three seconds and usually find it intolerable at worst and simply lacking at best. In this instance, I was very pleasantly surprised. The music is recorded, yes, but you could be fooled. It's lush and powerful. It helps, of course, that several actual instruments were used-- one can spot a real cello, real horns and DEFINITELY a real flute, as woodwinds are the most impossible instruments to synthesize. Do I wish it was a real orchestra? Sure. But in lieu of one, Cygnet has done a wonderful job to compensate. I don't know why Sean Murray had to forgo the use of live musicians, but I have no doubt he had his reasons, and far be it for me to judge. And to the poster above me who would rather avoid the show completely due to the lack of an orchestra: you'd be surprised what clever sound design can do in this day and age. The sound of the cello comes from within the cello, not from a side speaker, and with Sean Cox's handling of the instrument one could easily be fooled. I suggest you go see it before you judge, especially if you do have friends in the

Posted by Always	Mon, Apr 7th, 2008
Rather than pitched-challenged, perhaps the inane absudity (and brilliance, of course) of Mr. Sondheim's chord structure was what proved most challenging to the quintet. These people put in more rehearsal time than anyone else. They move furniture, hoist trees, help with costume changes, play numerous characters, and sing the hardest music all while trying to be a cohesive unit rather than the individual performers they are. Glossing over their presence and suggesting they were incorrect in their delivery is not only an unlearned musical remark, but a blatant refusal at acknowledging another important aspect of the show as aforementioned 'farce.' They perpetuate that which you say is not present at

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