Sex Appeal

PATIENCE is one of Gilbert and Sullivan's humbler operettas. It falls somewhere between the brilliant hilarity of HMS pinafore and the insipid mundaneness of the dusty Utopia Limited; it isn't set in Japan or in a mystical land. Patience unfolds somewhere in England in a town besieged by the pretentious aesthetic movement which transforms love into a selfish expression. Although Patiences plot does not mesmerize us with Gilberth and Sullivan's usual riveting complexity neither does it let us down. Cleverly worded lyrics complement attractive melodies pleasantly echoing grander numbers in other grander shows.

But whether mounting a favorite G&S operetta of an obscure one a musical company must feature a cast of capable singers who can make their characters ridiculous without appearing ridiculous themselves. And that's what happens in this humble production of Patience by the Musical Theater Company of Cambridge; the small talented cast never takes itself too seriously and makes Patience into a pleasant well staged operetta. The result is a prefect summer theater production which never lets our attention wonder.

Whereas Company is marred by the aggressive orchestra this time musical director Gerald Moshell keeps his small orchestra at just the right pitch to accompany the singers, who combine clear enunciation with strong lyrical voices. This highly compact show runs at just over two hours and the dialogue stays crisp as lines are delivered without too many complex movements.

The cast of Patience is smaller than most G&S crews only seven women from the maiden's chorus and seven men the dragoon soldiers. And yet the small company ample fills the intimate Agassiz stage, which is highlighted with a colorful backdrop of two birds standing nose to nose and flowers spread over the two story set. The costumes are floral as well. Characters constantly flourish huge plastic flowers, reminding us that the traits the plot hangs on are ephemeral and will wilt in time.

The operetta's heroine is Patience a lovely mild maid who is taught that love and marriage are not the same. Her companions seven maid led by a betty Jane (Robert Ann Gilbert) have fallen madly in love with a conceited poet, Reginald Bunthorne (William Thorpe) who hypnotizes them with his pretentious over dramatic stanzas. Enter seven dragoons who are engaged to the maidens and can't understand Bunthorne's power over the women. Then comes another handsome poet dressed in white, from his white buck shoes to his white top hat Archibald Grosvenor (John Dennis Sullivan), who is disgusted by his natural ability to attract women. The maids switch over to Grosvenor who is passionately in love with Patience but Patience with her misguided view of love decides to marry Bunthorne, since her love for him will be selfless.

The resolution of he is silliness is solidly entertaining. The seven maids primp and pose throughout all their numbers, including "Twenty Lovesick Maidens We," and the serious self important soldiers march about the stage singing things like "When I First Put This Uniform On. "Led by Colonel Calverly (John Hoyoker), Major Murgathroyd (Daniel Pantano) and the slightly effeminate Lieutenant. The Duke of Dunstable (Michael Calmes), we watch the soldiers try to lure the ladies away the soldiers try to lure the ladies away from their poets. Finally figuring that if you can't beat them they transform themselves into aesthetically pleasing gentlemen.

The leads have excellent voices, especially Jayne S. West as patience, who earlier this week played Jenny in the 4S's modern musical comedy Company. West's Patience is delightfully innocent and her clear strong soprano never wavers. "West has a regal stage presence and sustains the misguided Patience strongly throughout the show.

Patience's two leading men render fittingly stereotypic presentations of their characters. Thrope's Bunthorne is hopelessly clownish; he mugs ridiculous poses and his gray velvet costumes and black wig capture his superficiality as he practices all over the stage during his solo "Am'I Alone and unobserved? And Sullivan's Grosvenor mocks all handsome heroes with his marcissism powered by a stage presence that would sweep even the audience off its feet. Sullivan and Thrope prove excellent foils in brisk repartee during their duet. "When I Go Out of Doors," as Bunthorne tries to convince Grosvenor to become more homely. All of the songs are enjoyable, but none sticks in our minds: the show consequently becomes a pleasant blur a perfect G&S aperitif.