My Favorite Plays Well, Despite Flaws

THEATER

My Favorite Year

Book by Joseph Dougherty

Music by Stephen Flaherty

Lyrics by Lynn Ahrens

Directed by Susan Livingstone

at the Cabot JCR

through April 30

The man sitting next to me at Cabot House's production of My Favorite Year was smashed and by the second act I wished I'd had a few drinks before the show myself. an adaptation of the 1982 movie, My Favorite Year's run on Broadway was brief and it is easy to see why. The all-Cabot cast and crew strive valiantly to rise above the material, but despite their enthusiasm, this is a show best enjoyed at less than full mental capacity.

Not content with the light-hearted story of a young television comedy writer and the aging movie hero he idolizes, the perpetrators of the musical version of My Favorite Year threw in an idiotic subplot straight out of Iron John. Benjy Stone (the write) now worships Alan Swann (the movie star) not just for his cinematic derring-do but as a substitute father-figure in place of his own who "went out for cigarettes and never came back." This moronic blunting of the relationship between the two (in the original movie, Benjy's deceased father is mentioned exactly once) is introduced in a hackneyed song called "Larger then Life." This number is unfortunately typical in its irritating soliloquy style. As written by composer Stephen Flaherty and lyricist Lynn Ahrens the songs don't just pause the action, they bring it to a screeching halt.

Most of the songs in My favorite Year are blatant rip-offs of other, more famous, numbers from other, better-written, shows. While Flaherty's music is more boring than bad, Ahrens' lyrics are unremittingly awful. The tag line of "Everything Was Beautiful at the Ballet"-- whoops, I mean "Larger than Life"-- for example, is "Gee, he was bigger and better and larger than life." The by-the-numbers finale (called, of course, "My Favorite Year") includes the profound lyric "you could cross a bridge and not have it burn/someone leaving your life could also return.

The lyrics stand out in part because the book of this musical is so good. Joseph Dougherty's script hysterically recreates the world of 1950s television comedy a la Sid Caesar and "Your Show of Shows." Much of the action of My Favorite Year takes place in and around the offices of "Comedy Cavalcade," the show for which Benjy writes, giving Dougherty the opportunity to toss off one-liners and badinage worthy of a much better show than the one he's stuck with.

My favorite Year definitely has moments of brilliance--the Musketeer sketch and "Welcome to Brooklyn" come to mind--but they are not enough to save the show from its mediocre music, abysmal lyrics and overwrought plot.

None of this is Cabot's fault, of course, and they are to be commended for attempting such a new musical. Director Susan Livingston should also be commended for her non-traditional casting. My Favorite Year is populated mostly by sarcastic New York Jews--that many of them are played by actors of other ethnicities detracts not a bit from the essential humor of the show.

As Benjy Stone, Ben Toro-Hernandez is stuck with some of the most painful material to deliver. It is a tribute to his acting ability that Benjy seems halfway-believable. Toro-Hernandez sings competently and is endearingly cute in his courtship of K.C. Downing, an assistant on Comedy Cavalcade. It takes a brave actor to slog through some of Benjy's asides to the audience; Toro-Hernandez should get a Purple heart.

By far the best performance in this production is that of Cynthia Dunbar as Alice Miller, one of the other comedy writers. To be fair, Alice gets most of this show's best lines ("Sy, these jokes are old enough to vote") and it is probably not a coincidence that the New York reviewers liked the actress who played Alice the best as well. The expansion of Alice's role is one welcome change from the movie and Dunbar plays the wise-cracking dame to perfection.

Julian Chu is excellent as Alice's boss, Sy Benson. His manic ravings are hysterically funny, particularly when he and the rest of the writing team act out "The Musketeer Sketch" for King Kaiser, the star of Comedy Cavalcade. Equally admirable is Vanessa Livingston as Belle Steinberg Carroca, Benjy's mother. Decked out in terrifically tacky costumes, Livingston plays the perfect Brooklyn matron without relying on a heavy accent or overdone mannerisms. Angelina Zappia is also good as the pleasantly earnest Downing.

On a more discordant note are Vikram Savkar as King Kaiser and Tim Ford as Alan Swann. Savkar sings fine and tries hard but he is simply miscast. Kaiser is supposed to be an egomaniac television star who terrorizes everyone--Savkar seems more like the nice kid next door with a paper route. Ford's performance is more problematic. His voice is negligible and his acting isn't much better. This sort of one-note performance would be less noticeable in a minor character but in someone who is supposed to carry as much presence and pizzazz as Swann is, it is disastrous. Director Susan Livingston is partly to blame for either casting Ford in the first place or not rehearsing him enough.

The orchestra and chorus are both surprisingly strong for such a small show and both music director Jefferson Packer and vocal director Thomas Malaby should be commended. If the choreography by Vanessa Livingston has a tendency to rely a lot on drill team-like hand gestures, well, it's tough to do much else in much a small space.

Costume designer Betty McNally has worked wonders. From Belle's purple beaded coat to Downing's prim sweaters and pleated skirts to the glamorous yet tawdry gowns of the chorus girls, McNally has captured 1950s America perfectly. In several scenes, Belle's shoes are more interesting than anything else happening on stage.

The set is effective, if less elaborate than the costumes. Designers Kenni Feinberg and Maura Henry rely largely on a fuzzy Manhattan skyline for a backdrop with moveable triangular flats on either side. Together with lighting designer Matthew Duhan, they have done a credible job of turning the Cabot Junior Common Room into a theater.

My Favorite year is not the worst musical ever written and Cabot's enthusiastic presentation of it succeeds admirably in almost all respects. As an alternative to the straight plays going up this weekend, it should certainly merit consideration. Just drink a little firs.