News

HMS Is Facing a Deficit. Under Trump, Some Fear It May Get Worse.

News

Cambridge Police Respond to Three Armed Robberies Over Holiday Weekend

News

What’s Next for Harvard’s Legacy of Slavery Initiative?

News

MassDOT Adds Unpopular Train Layover to Allston I-90 Project in Sudden Reversal

News

Denied Winter Campus Housing, International Students Scramble to Find Alternative Options

Worth Staying On For...

Stop the World, I Want To Get Off directed by Deborah Solomon at the Mather House Dining Hall, Wednesday through Saturday at 8 p.m.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

BACK IN THE EARLY '60s, singer Anthony Newley and lyricist Leslie Bricusse decided to attempt another revival of the Everyman theme in a musical comedy. Their show, Stop the World, I want To Get Off, follows a certain Littlechap through the various stages of his life, from infancy to old age. In the end, he is rewarded with the birth of a grandson to take his place in the cycle of life. And all this with frequent interruptions for relevant social commentary.

A sympathetic theme for a musical, right? Not exactly. For Newley and Bricusse imposed an incredibly cynical view of human nature upon this cycle. They managed to write so much bigotry, sexism, coarseness and ruthlessness into the Littlechap character that many of their '60s' audiences walked away disgusted.

Stop the World remains offensive to this day, in its use of sexual and national stereotypes and in its heavy-handed symbolism. (The "Figure of Death," dressed in a long black robe, drops in every now and then to disrupt the circus-like goings on.) It is a hard show to like for its own sake. But the current Mather House production succeeds in making Stop the World both enjoyable and ultimately moving, in spite of itself.

WITH A LESS ENTHUSIASTIC COMPANY, this show could very easily bomb. But the energy and professionalism of the Mather troupe shines through, conveying the group's belief in the hopeful message implied by the play's ending.

The technical aspects of the production work perfectly. The lighting is effective and well-timed, and the simple, colorful set serves convincingly as both a circus arena and a variety of other settings. The clownlike costumes, which the actors wear throughout the play, do not interfere with the many changes in the plot. And Andrew Schulman's orchestra suitably renders the varying moods of the score without drowning out the performers' voices. In the intimate confines of the Mather House dining hall, this is no small accomplishment.

Director Deborah Solomon must have realized the difficulty of accenting the humor in such a negative show, for she emphasizes the comic elements in the script to the fullest. The slapstick antics of the background performers both relieve the tension generated by the dialogue up front and provide surprises in a somewhat repetitive plot. In fact, the flexibility of the chorus, which portrays everything from kindergarten students to factory machines to members of Parliament, is one of the show's strongest assets. The chorus members work well both together and separately to provide the necessary setting and vocal background for each of the show's many vignettes.

The more challenging individual performances are also skillfully handled. Andy Sellon, as Littlechap, has the nearimpossible job of generating empathy for this cutthroat protagonist. Littlechap spends the entire play asking for love and approval he doesn't deserve. The audience is supposed to feel sorry for him at the end, when he realizes that he can only love himself. But when he bursts into "What Kind of Fool Am I?" it's a wonder they don't stand up and tell him.

Still, Sellon does a fine job with this thankless role. His singing voice, while not particularly strong or melodious, suits his characterization to a tee. Sellon delivers the most sarcastic lines in the play with venom, and is just as effective when silent. He has a talent mime, and his supple movements and flexible facial expressions give Littlechap the humanity that the scripted character lacks. During the final minutes of the show, Sellon all but convinces the audience that this Littlechap isn't such a bad sort, after all.

Maggi-Meg Reed, in the female lead, is every bit Sellon's match. Reed plays the four women Littlechap uses and hurts most: Evie ("Typically English"), Anya ("Glorious Russian"), Ilsa ("Typische Deutsche"), and Cinnie ("All-American"). With a twist of her scarf, she switches her personality from loud and abrasive to cute and cuddly, and remains fascinating at every turn. Even when she stays on stage during a transition, she never drops out of character. Reed's vocal range and ability to simulate several dialects are also extremely impressive.

Both Reed and Sellon are freshmen making their Harvard debuts in Stop the World, and their portrayals should go a long way toward distinguishing them in theatrical circles.

THE SHOCK VALUE of the coarseness and profanity in Stop the World has now all but vanished, and Littlechap's abuse of so many people in his search for happiness seems disturbingly familiar nowadays. For by highlighting the baser sides of human nature, the play's authors do no more than point out that they have always existed. It is commendable that the members of the Mather production included a statement of their disagreement with the script's exaggerated stereotypes in the show program. It's too bad, however, that they decided to do a show they must apologize for, although it is a testament to their professionalism that they manage to bring the show off so well.

The Crimson welcomes letters concerning material appearing in this newspaper. Letters should be signed, and should not exceed 32 typewritten lines. They will be run on a space-available basis, and The Crimson reserves the right to edit letters at the editors' discretion. Letters become the property of this newspaper, unpublished letters cannot be returned.

Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.

Tags