The Mikado

Of all the baubles and goodies that customarily make their appearance at this time of year, there are few that top the Gilbert and Sullivan Players' presentations for brightness and good cheer. Time after time, these offerings melt the stony hearts of joyless CRIMSON reviewers, even those who have never been known to say a kind word about any production or performance previously. Maybe it's the Christmas ghosts finally getting to us Scrooges. More likely, it is the fact that this group puts on shows with such style and spirit that only the lastditch Savoyards could fail to be enchanted.

The Mikado, although it lacks the moments of brilliance of some of the other collaborations, is nevertheless a pleasant piece with probably more famous songs than any except Pinafore. The traditional production always gets a certain number of standard extra-curricular laughs out of the action accompanying the more ludicrous songs. But this performance is an unmitigated howl from beginning to end, thanks mainly to the imaginative direction of Julius Novick and two devastating performances by David Stone and Steve Garlick.

As Poo-Bah, Lord High Everything Else, Garlick is truly the man born with a sneer, who cannot even arise from his knees without throwing the audience into convulsions. Stone's performance has to be seen to be believed. His facial expressions are each one masterpieces, and his delivery of the old chestnut, "My Object All Sublime" was an experience to remember. His short appearance is almost too good to be true.

From the opening tableau of the Gentlemen of Japan, looking like refugees from the Kabuki dancers, the staging is in every way impressive. Aided by a magnificent set by James Peters, Sarah Sweezy's beautiful costumes, and choreography by Elizabeth Theiler, the visual aspect of the play is quite stunning. The movement is fast but controlled, and the stage business is meticulous in detail and execution. Novick is especially successful in out-doing Gilbert's spoof of English attitudes, notably those toward the Orient which did so much to produce the Far-Eastern mess of the 19th Century. The chorus, which can really sing this time, is at all times a source of delight, whether they be joining in the sentimental ballad, or kicking around an imaginary chopped-off head.

Musically, most of the lustre came from the romantic lead, Vivian Thomas as Yum-Yum, and Benjamin Cox's Nanki-Poo. Miss Thomas bounces onto the stage with her disarming freshness and charm and an outstandingly lovely voice. Cox has just the right voice for this part, and knows how to use it, although last night he sounded a little constrained. The two of them made a very attractive pair, if slightly too all-American for their British pronunciation.

Ted Taylor's Ko-Ko lacked some of the vocal finesse that this role could use, but his acting was very funny. Alison Keith was again Gilbert's answer to Medea, (this time as Katisha); again struggling through the songs and plunging through the hamming like an old pro. Joan Rosenstock contributed some more pleasant singing, and William Jacobson and Merry Isaacs rounded out the cast of principals. George Nelson and Barrie Wetstone handled the piano score ably, and musical director Burton Dudding kept everything going nicely.

For those who are waiting anxiously for the Category of Flaws, they can keep on waiting. They were probably there, but they seem to fade into the background amidst the gaiety and fun. If you're looking for a really happy evening, this is it.