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| "Alright, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my closeup!" |
So Norma Desmond declares in one of the most famous movie lines ever. The film is Sunset Blvd., Billy Wilder’s biting and unflinching 1950 film about Hollywood’s hitherto unknown dark side.
The story, for those few unfamiliar with it, concerns faded silent screen star Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson), who lives in her gothic, secluded mansion with her manservant, Max (Erich von Stroheim). Norma is blissfully unaware that her public has long since forgotten her, and refuses to accept that silent films will never return, still idolizing the glamour of her past. Joe Gillis (William Holden), on the other hand, a young screenwriter who can’t find a job anywhere in town, thinks he sees Hollywood for what it is and holds a very jaundiced view of the business. Chased by finance men in pursuit of his car, Joe just happens to pull into the driveway of Norma’s mansion at 10086 Sunset Boulevard. He meets Norma, who, upon learning that Joe is a writer, hires him to edit her “comeback” script, Salome. Joe knows it’s an exercise in futility, but needing the job he agrees to stay with Norma and work on the script. As the story unfolds, Joe discovers more about Norma than he cares to know, and Norma begins to harbor romantic feelings for him…feelings he cannot fully return, not when he’s working on another new script with Betty Schaeffer, an idealistic script reader at Paramount who dreams of becoming a writer, and who thinks she and Joe Gillis are ideal partners in every sense of the word. Needless to say, the ending will have you reaching for tissues.
It remains one of the all time classic films, consistently landing on most people’s “Top 10/20/30” movies lists. So popular was it that in 1993, composer Andrew Lloyd Webber released a musical version that has played around the world and whose songs have long since entered the Lloyd Webber canon.
The stage adaptation, with book and lyrics by Don Black and Christopher Hampton, has allowed countless actresses the chance to put their own stamp on Norma Desmond. Over the years, the likes of Patti LuPone, Glenn Close, Betty Buckley, Elaine Paige, Helen Schneider, Linda Balgord, Diahann Carroll, Petula Clark and Rita Moreno have all donned Anthony Powell’s lavish costumes and descended John Napier’s gilded staircase, uttering the famous quote mentioned above and singing Lloyd Webber’s memorable tunes.
Although no large scale production has been mounted since the original closed in 1997, Sunset Boulevard has seen a flurry of regional revivals in recent years. Now, lavish sets make way for more sedate surroundings, and large ensembles are whittled down to the bare essentials. Such downplay for the sake of budgetary and space restrictions are not necessarily a detriment, as different stagings can highlight other aspects of the material even while foregoing others. Most recently, the Maine State Music Theatre in Brunswick has mounted a production, which I had the pleasure of seeing on Sunday, July 29th, and which is playing until August 4th.
This is the second production Maine has seen in 2 years, the first being an impressive effort at the Ogunquit Playhouse back in 2010, featuring a regal Stefanie Powers as Norma and Todd Gearhart as Joe Gillis. This new production, directed and choreographed by Marc Robin and presented by Steven C. Peterson, is admirably squeezed onto the tiny stage of the Pickard Theatre. The sets, which vary from Paramount Studios to Schawb’s Drugstore to the set of Cecil B. DeMille's Cleopatra (a production specific anachronism, as it's usually the historically accurate Sampson & Delilah), are mostly pretty backgrounds that do their job well enough but don’t especially knock your socks off. Norma Desmond’s mansion, however, the focal location of the piece, is another matter. Scenic designer Robert A. Kovach outdid himself in creating a fantastic interior for Desmondland, which is at once reminiscent of John Napier’s design while also standing on its own merits. Norma’s mansion may hold itself up high, but the production as a whole doesn’t quite capture the full emotional scope of the story. Shortcomings aside, it nonetheless manages to offer enough impressive moments to make it a worthwhile evening (or matinee) at the theatre.
In the pivotal role of Norma Desmond we have Denise Whelan, a talented actress who looks stunning in Anthony Powell’s elaborate costumes. Presenting the audience with a strong singing voice and a commanding presence, Whelan confidently navigates her way through Norma’s two big numbers, “With One Look” and “As If We Never Said Goodbye”. Decent singing aside, she unfortunately fails to capture the true imperial essence Desmond should possess. Hers is a more broadly comical Norma than we’ve seen before, often more reminiscent of Betty Hutton than Gloria Swanson. She cavorts around the stage with little of the slow, controlled grace the character should ideally show. Her comedic instincts are sharp, there’s no doubt about that, and when the dramatic moments count she delivers, but as a former silent screen star that didn’t make it in talkies she’s woefully unbelievable. Her Norma Desmond would have been a sensation in the talkies; a “Brazen Burgundy Bombshell” to rival Hutton. Had Whelan been directed with a bit more restraint in regards to the comedy, she would’ve come across more appropriate. As it is, while it’s certainly an enjoyable and original performance, it’s not truly Norma we’re seeing until the final scene.
Gregg Goodbrod, in the difficult role of Joe Gillis, acquits himself nicely. Energy wise he’s full tilt right from the get go, and his performance doesn’t waver far on the emotional scale much. However, that consistency serves him well, and he presents a Joe Gillis who is at once highly cynical yet not without compassion. There’s still some human being in there that Hollywood has yet to squeeze out. For some reason, a few of his early lines were re-arranged, and did not quite fit in their new locations, but he handled the changes well. Goodbrod is in fine voice and belts out the title song with gusto at the start of Act II. His high, sharp tenor is a nice contrast to the rich bass provided by David Girolmo’s Max. Girolmo also has the imposing heir a Max should have, and infuses much emotional warmth in his affection for Norma.
Betty Schaeffer, a sadly underwritten character who lost a lot of her edge in the transition from screen to stage, has been lucky to have some solid actresses play her over the years and provide some badly needed energy behind her characterization. Lauren Blackman does a terrific job, and is totally believable at showing naiveté with a savvy lust for learning all she can about the business. Vocally, she is so reminiscent of the original Los Angeles Betty, Judy Kuhn, that on more than one occasion I closed my eyes and swore I was listening to the American cast album. Betty’s love duet with Joe, “Too Much in Love to Care”, is in good hands with Blackman and Goodbrod.
The production features a modest ensemble of 11 actors, considerably smaller than the 29 members of the original company. I do not mean this to sound critical, as this is obviously not the West End we’re talking about here. On the contrary, considering the small size of the company, it’s even more impressive how effective they are. There is considerably more cast doubling among the ensemble parts than usual, but everyone involved is obviously having a blast and putting their best foot forward. Listening to the last group number of Act I, “This Time Next Year”, I was amazed I was listening to only 9 people singing, so powerful were their combined voices. It was also a hoot to see women participating in the usually all-male number “The Lady’s Paying”, where Norma treats Joe to a whole new wardrobe. It was even funnier to have men participating in the usually all-female number “Eternal Youth is Worth a Little Suffering”, where a phalanx of beauty experts give Norma a makeover before her supposed return to the screen. It’s a comedic number anyway, and watching the boys camp it up made it a downright laugh riot, with more delightfully gay overtones than Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.
The biggest drawback in the company’s size does not affect the latter half of the piece, only the beginning. The opening number, “Let’s Have Lunch”, a cynical ensemble piece showcasing the shallow nature of Hollywood, is omitted entirely. Those who know the score by heart will no doubt feel a slight jolt at the jarring cuts. The cue underscoring is still present, and just when you expect to hear singing the dialogue kicks in. The next group song, “Every Movie’s a Circus”, is also almost entirely cut, with only a few of the solo verses remaining. The nine piece orchestra does a very admirable job of handling Lloyd Webber’s music, and manages to sound larger than they actually are thanks to the fine acoustics of the Pickard Theatre.
Unlike other regional attempts, this Sunset Boulevard does not fade entirely into the sunset once the curtain has fallen. Although the scope of the piece really demands a large stage with lavish production values, this small scale effort goes for the stars and manages to snatch a few. It’s shows like this that redeem the value of summer stock and regional theatre, and allow audiences to discover shows that are no longer the big ticket New York items they once were. It was wonderful to see a few audience members who clearly had no knowledge of the story being exposed to it for the first time. I distinctly heard one woman ask if the show was set in New York, and another pondered if the movie had been a musical as well (thankfully, both had friends with them to correct their misperceptions). Norma may have been forgotten, but Sunset Boulevard won’t be, if its newfound regional life is any indication.
Desmond herself may very well say: “The show is big. It’s the venue that got small!”
That’s very true, but not necessarily a bad thing at all.
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