Gratuitous Llama Theatre Review

As I mentioned earlier, Saturday evening the Missus and I went to see the Washington Savoyards' production of Cole Porter's Kiss Me, Kate at the WS's new digs in the Atlas Theatre.

As far as the show itself went, this reviewer nails it:

{T]hick ’n’ cheesy but pretty satisfying. After all, you don’t go to Kiss Me, Kate to see theater that will change your life, you go to revel in all its show biz kitsch and the promise of juicy backstage battles amid the corsets and couplets. Mostly, of course, you go for Porter’s perfectly crafted, almost virally hummable tunes. And here they are, delivered with purity and polish by the show’s leads. Michael Nansel puts his rich voice to powerful use as a bluff and barrel-chested Fred. Sandy Bainum, as Lilli, has the vocal chops to make “So in Love” as haunting as it deserves to be. (It’s a love song, sure, but all those minor chords are in there for a reason, and Bainum makes sure you feel each one in your chest.) They’re backed by a 21-piece orchestra that sounds great in the new space. Some unevenness among the show’s ensemble actors—who are quite young and look it—is noticeable, which keeps the production numbers from coming together as nimbly as they should. “Too Darn Hot,” for example, isn’t, particularly. Without that energy, the second act starts to drag. In a program note, director Hal Simons declares, “If it ain’t broke….!” and, of course, he’s right, up to a point. It ain’t broke, but it does creak a bit, especially when so many of the yucks come courtesy of two gangsters delivering dialogue straight from the “dem, dese, and dose” school. And although Bainum sounds great on “So in Love,” she isn’t given much to do while singing it besides staring moonily at a floral bouquet. Still, it’s Kiss Me, Kate, for Christ’s sake. Is there anything—besides the degree of technical skill on display at the Atlas Center—that separates this production from the Kates that have packed high school auditoriums and dinner theaters for decades? Nope. There’s no uncanny, lightning-in-a-bottle theatrical synergy at work here, but when these melodies are presented this well, you probably won’t miss it.

Yep. It was basically a superior community theatre performance, but well worth it.

Two observations arise. Or rather, an observation and a question.

The observation has to do not with the show but with the theatre (which in itself is small and cozy and has good acoustics). I had been wondering, given that the place is way the hell over in NE behind Union Station, whether it wouldn't be better to hire a car to take us in and out. Boy, did I ever make the right call with that one. The Atlas is in a really, really nasty neighborhood and even though it's only a few blocks from Union Station, no power on earth would get me to walk there. (Yes, I'm a suburban coward, but aside from the church right across the street, the rest of the neighborhood is composed of pawn shops, tattoo parlors and liquor stores.) As for parking, well, it's all on street. Don't bring wheels you care about. My advice instead, if you go to a show here and don't want to have to rely on the vagaries of digging up a taxi at midnight, is to play the nabob for once and hire yourself a car. You'll be glad you did.

The question has to do with characters in the show. In the original, which came out in 1948, Lilli is engaged to Harrison Howell, an army general with all-consuming political ambitions. However, in the movie version, which came out in 1953, Howell's character is replaced by Tex Callaway, a big time cattle rancher. I'm curious as to why this happened. Howell is something of a tool and Lilli eventually jilts him when she goes back to Fred. Was he unpleasant enough that the movie producers felt compelled to switch him out? Was there a fear of offending Ike? The World wonders.