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LETTERS FROM BOBOLINK FARM
By Barbara Tatham Johnson

 


WHEREUPON A MOUSE BECOMES A MAN

LEND ME A TENOR

Directed by Drew Barr; written by Ken Ludwig
With: Ron Botting, Aled Davies, Tom Ford, John Hildreth, Barbara Mather, Janice O’Rourke, Michele Ragusa, and Jordan Simmons
At Portland Stage Company in Portland, Maine
From January 27 through February 22, 2004

Reviewed by Laurie Meunier Graves

To be successful, a farce depends on several things. First, the audience must be willing to suspend disbelief. In general, the plots of farces are so ludicrous that they can’t withstand close scrutiny. Second, the timing must be flawless. Only a moment’s hesitation will ruin the flow of the performance. Third, the pacing must be frantic. By the time the play is over, the lead actors should have gotten a very good workout. It also helps if there are a lot of slamming doors. This last condition is not necessary—The Importance of Being Earnest does very well without them—but somehow, those slamming doors add just the right touch to the inevitable mayhem and chaos for which farces are so famous.

I am happy to report that Portland Stage Company’s production of Lend Me a Tenor meets all three requirements, and, as a bonus, includes plenty of slamming doors. In general, farce is not my favorite type of theater, yet I laughed more than I care to admit during this very silly play. As Mr. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice might have said, there weren’t two words of sense spoken together during the entire show. But that just added to the fun.

Lend Me a Tenor is set in a hotel suite (the better to slam doors!) in Cleveland, Ohio, in 1934. Choleric, high-strung Henry Saunders (Aled Davies) is the general Manager of the Cleveland Grand Opera Company, which, as is so often the case with such companies, is struggling financially. All his hopes hinge on a production of Verdi’s Otello, which is to be performed that very evening. Somehow, he has managed to snag a famous Italian tenor, Tito Merelli (Ron Botting), to sing the lead role. However, when the play opens, Tito hasn’t even arrived in Cleveland, and, of course, hasn’t had a chance to rehearse with the rest of the company. In the company of his fresh-faced daughter Maggie (Janice O’Rourke) and his meek assistant Max (Tom Ford), Saunders waits impatiently in the hotel suit for Tito’s arrival. Finally, the great man arrives with his shrewish, jealous wife Maria (Michele Ragusa).

But is all well? Of course it is not. Tito, who has a tetchy stomach and a glutinous nature, has overindulged. He is too sick to his stomach to attend the only rehearsal left before the evening’s performance. However, Tito is unconcerned. After all, he has been in countless performances of Otello and even travels with two sets of costumes. (I told you a major suspension of disbelief was necessary.) To further complicate matters, Maggie is besotted by Tito, and Max is besotted by Maggie. In addition, Max has delusions of grandeur. He, too, wants to be an opera singer. Unfortunately, the timid Max gets nothing but scorn and ridicule from Saunders.

Except it seems that Max can really sing. Under Tito’s imperious but kindly tutelage, Max learns to relax enough to let his voice soar free. There are, of course, more complications. In a jealous snit, Maria leaves Tito, who, through no fault of his own, takes too much medication and passes out on the bed. Is Tito dead or alive? Max is convinced it’s the former. But the show must go on! With great effort, Max goes from being a mouse to being a man, dons one of Tito’s costumes, blackens his face, and prepares to take the great tenor’s place. After all, as Max has stated, he knows all of Otello’s lyrics.

Is Tito really dead? Will Max have the courage to go on stage? What’s going to happen to that convenient second costume? Will Maria come back? Will Maggie fall in love with Max? Will the show be a success? Questions, questions! Let’s just say that as the play comes to its frenetic conclusion there are mistaken identities, slamming doors, and sexual innuendoes aplenty.

The cast does a terrific job with this confection of a play, which unlike Shakespeare’s silliest comedies, doesn’t have even the faintest glimmer of character development. Ron Botting is a fine Tito, by turns imposing and humorous, kindly and put-upon. Michele Ragusa, who plays his wife, is a perfect foil, volatile but clearly in love with Tito. She is small but has a formidable presence. Janice O’Rourke is suitably perky as Maggie; Jordan Simmons, as an ambitious soprano, vamps her way through the production; and Barbara Mather is strong-minded, elegant, and a little desperate as the “mature” Julia. John Hildreth is just plain hilarious as a star-struck bellhop, and Aled Davies’s Saunders is definitely a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The entire cast has a fine sense of comic timing and makes the most of what are, in the end, stock characters.

However, special compliments must go to Tom Ford, who plays the meek assistant Max. With his slicked back hair and long face, Ford looks as though he could be Hugh Grant’s plain cousin. He has the same air of cringing self-effacement and perpetual embarrassment. At certain times in the play, you get the idea that if it were humanly possible, Max would have melted from sheer humiliation and frustration. The viewer, of course, is on this mouse’s side, and while Max’s transformation seems too abrupt, it nonetheless feels like a moment of triumph.

Lend Me a Tenor is full of good-natured tomfoolery. While it might lack substance, it definitely succeeds in making an audience laugh, especially during the improbable second half. In Maine, in January and February, it’s just right for combating the winter doldrums. 

 



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