Stageloft’s ‘Memoirs’ memorableBy Paul Kolas Telegram and Gazette Reviewer STURBRIDGE—There’s some kind of perverse coincidence at work when Neil Simon’s least successful work, “Fools,” appears on the local theater scene concurrently with — arguably — his most fully satisfying achievement, “Brighton Beach Memoirs.” Whatever is in the water out in Sturbridge, Stageloft Repertory Theater has had a remarkable run this season, and it continued unabated on Saturday night with a sterling production of Simon’s adolescent memory play, set in 1937 Brooklyn. “Brighton Beach Memoirs” balances its warm, rich humor and dramatic tension with a juggler’s finesse. Simon’s autobiographical stand-in, Eugene Morris Jerome (Peter Arsenault), is an irresistible combination of stand-up comic and hormone-addled dreamer, a 15-year-old boy who needs to think very seriously about what is more important to him — pitching for the Yankees or gazing for two-and-a-half heavenly seconds at his older cousin Nora’s (Jackie Johnson) breasts. It’s hard to imagine anyone better at dealing with this dilemma, or Eugene’s family-fueled issues, than Arsenault, who plays Eugene like a master fiddler, ready with a wise-crack to mask the anxieties lying underneath. Eugene’s wonderfully glib humor is a way of deflecting the harsher realities of living in a home always short of money and long on family drama. Whether he’s begging his older brother Stanley (Rob Latino) to describe in detail what Nora looked liked coming out of the shower, or trying his best to avoid gagging on his mother Kate’s (Katherine Waters) evil liver and cabbage dinner, Arsenault is gloriously, hilariously on target. Director Jeremy Woloski brings a welcomed, ethnic-tinged feel to this embracing staging. His homey set design, a sepia-toned mix of crowded beds, photographs, dining table, old-fashioned radio, and cozy front porch, blends nicely with Ellen Cornely’s 1930s style costumes. More importantly, he places the right emphasis on the play’s comedic and dramatic elements. Act I comes out blazing with a fusillade of laughter, as we merrily follow Eugene’s narrative into the heart of his extended family. His Aunt Blanche (Christine Taylor) has — said whisperingly — asthma. His younger cousin Laurie (Cate D’Angelo) has — again a whisper — a heart murmur. Even though the laughs give way to heavier dramatic epiphanies in Act II, Woloski’s marvelous cast continues to hold our rapt attention. Simon suffuses his dramedy with an affection that keeps a leash on the two most unpleasant scenes: Kate and Blanche finally having it out after 20 years of sibling tension; and Blanche and Nora’s mother-daughter fight. Waters and Taylor are superb in the former, as Kate confronts Blanche about living in her shadow while growing up and urging her to move out and make a life of her own, Blanche countering with her misfortune of losing a husband too early and struggling to survive ever since. The sparks also fly brilliantly between Taylor and Johnson, as Nora accuses her mother of ignoring her while attending to her younger sister’s health issues, and now refuses to support her dream of becoming a Broadway dancer. It feels like we’re eavesdropping on real arguments. Latino brings a lot of empathy to the part of stressed-out Stanley. Though his scenes with Arsenault are funny, his performance is laced with an underlying, moving sadness, especially when he’s trying his best to not upset his father and mother over a job in peril or lost gambling money. Fred D’Angelo plays Jack Jerome with a weathered, sagacious dignity that shines most brightly when he’s reminiscing about his brother Michael’s death in WWI, helping Stanley through his rough patch, encouraging Laurie to get some exercise, and insisting that Kate and Blanche make up for the family’s sake. Cate D’Angelo fleshes out the role of the sometimes snooty, pampered Laurie with well-delineated emotional fragility. Rarely has a three hour play felt so splendidly short. |