Man of La Mancha
Dale Wasserman (Book); Mitch Leigh (Music); Joe Darion
(Lyrics)
Edward Hightower as Don Quixote |
Andy Williams, Frank Sinatra, Roberta Flack, Elvis, Cher,
and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir are just a few of the many who have recorded
what is surely one of the most enduring standards to emerge from an American
musical. And while every emotional-laden,
recorded version of “The Impossible
Dream.” may have its merits, it is actually only in the context of the Dale
Wasserman (book), Mitch Leigh (music), and Joe Darion (lyrics) 1964 musical, Man of La Mancha, that the inherent
depths and powers of the song can be truly experienced.
In the current Custom Made Theatre production of Man of La Mancha staged within the
company’s intimate setting where audience members sit just a few feet from the
cast, “The Impossible Dream” receives as near-perfect interpretation as I
personally have ever heard. The might of
the song’s words, the clarity of its message, the emotional truths gleaned for
our current difficult times become stronger and stronger with each subsequent reprise.
The successful delivery of that one
iconic song is just one example among many why Custom Made’s funny, touching,
and impactful production of Man of La
Mancha is not to be missed -- no matter how many times in the past one has
seen this universally loved, oft-revived musical on much larger stages.
That Director Brian Katz’s vision for Custom Made’s
production of Man of La Mancha is one
of immediacy, spontaneity, and engagement becomes apparent even before a word
is spoken. Shuffling prisoners is a
spartan, dungeon-like setting (designed by Daniel Bilodeau) take the cue from
one person’s thumping hand and begin one-by-one to join, using the floor,
boxes, bodies, and sticks as their instruments. Together, they orchestrate an increasingly
complicated, drumming/clapping melody that grows steadily in intensity and
volume and one that illustrates their desperation, their defiance, and yet their
determination.
It is into that sullen but sizzling setting that playwright,
actor, and tax collector Cervantes enters with his manservant, brought there (as
were all the other dejected around him) as part of an ongoing, church-state-led
inquisition – his crime being to foreclose a monastery for not paying its
taxes. When his fellow prisoners charge
him as “an idealist, a bad poet, and an honest man” and threaten to put him on
trial, Cervantes asks to speak on his own defense and do so as a
“charade.” Receiving permission from a
sympathetic prisoner others call “The Governor,” Cervantes begins a
transformation into a wandering knight-errant named Don Quixote, adding bushy
eyebrows, scruffy beard, and hilarious but effective costume pieces (designed
by Lindsay Eifert) befitting a traveling actor doing best with makeshift items
from the trunk he has brought with him to this cell.
And thus begins a play within a play as the prisoners join
as actors in this charade trial. Cervantes directs them as they enact a tale
about an old man and country squire named Alonso Quijana, who through all his
reading so many books about man’s injustices to others, has convinced himself
that he must become a knight and “sally forth to right all.”
Dave Leon, Edward Hightower & Maurico Suarez |
As soon as Edward Hightower goes from Cervantes to Don
Quixote while singing “Man of La Mancha (I, Don Quixote),” his trumpeting
voice, radiant face, and fearless demeanor convince us that this is a knight on
a mission we all want to believe in, no matter the obvious charade and
ridiculousness of it all. That he soon
fights an ogre that is actually a windmill (directed and acted with both
hilarity and pathos) only endears him more to the audiences of both plays in
progress – us and the prisoners who now find themselves playing various parts
within a wretched, roadside inn. The
more we get into the tale, the more Edward Hightower becomes a Don Quixote
whose undaunted optimism, fool-hearty bravery, and incredible naiveté are only
matched by his ability to deliver in a wonderful, convincing voice immediately
recognizable tunes like “Dulcinea” and of course “The Impossible Dream” (the
latter, stunningly performed by Mr. Hightower as the second act opens).
Anthony Aranda, Rachel Richman, Edward Hightower & Dave Leon |
Every Don Quixote is only as successful as his loyal sidekick,
Sancho Panza, is, too. Dave Leon has the
looks (short, somewhat round, and eyes as wide as half-dollar coins), the
demeanor (respectfully blind to and denying of his master’s insanity), and the
movements (something between a goofy waddle and a overly confident swagger) to
pull off a picture-perfect Sancho. And
when he delivers songs such as “The Missive,” “I Really Like Him,” and “A
Little Gossip,” his combination of angelic little-boy and impish Puck approaches
along with a voice not afraid to belt when needed seals the deal: This is the Sancho Panza with whom any Don
Quixote would go into battle.
Joining the two principals of the story is an entire
ensemble of well-cast members, many of whom not only play one or more roles but
who also play a variety of instruments from Spanish guitar and flute to viola,
melodica, and euphonium (the last being Sancho’s big brass way of announcing in
a few notes his knight’s entrance or in hilariously giving himself a starting key
for his next song). Mark Dietrich magnificently
directs the music of this orchestra of sorts in a way that fits so well their rag-tailed
nature.
Rachel Richman |
Rachel Richman plays the inn’s barmaid and resident
prostitute, Aldonza, whom Don Quixote immediately dubs as his life-long, sworn
love, Lady Dulcinea. When in “It’s All
the Same” she describes her life of loving too many men “with hatred burning in
my breast,” Ms. Richman’s voice is both seductively sinful and pitifully
innocent, both madly insolent and yet dutifully worthy of sympathy. She gradually peels away the layers of
disbelief and resistance to this kind but foolish knight’s adoration and his sense
of unrelenting hope when there should be none, joining with Sancho in admitting
“I Really Like Him.” Ms. Richman
continues transforming in believable and moving ways her Aldonza, until in the
end once a prisoner again, she leads her fellow condemned in the final, moving
“The Impossible Dream” as Cervantes is led away to the fate of the real,
Inquisition trial he faces. Kudos goes
to Ms. Richman for a performance displaying life-justified harshness and hate
but also new-found courage to love and be loved.
Jack O'Reilly & Jenny Matteucci |
Emma Onasch, Jenny Matteucci, Maurice Suarez, and Jack
O’Reilly step in to play (among other roles) people from Cervantes’ household
and hometown who seek to rescue him from his world of disillusionment and bring
him back to what they see as reality (no matter how insane the world around
them actually is). Singing “I’m Only
Thinking of Him,” they combine in an exceptionally well-directed, funny set of
confessionals to their parish’s Padre (Mr. O’Reilly) in which each employs
delicious facial expressions and variations of sung vocals, resulting in one of
the night’s best numbers. As the Padre,
Mr. O’Reilly also particularly shines in Act One’s closing number, “To Each His
Dulcinea,” as he wonders in a sweet voice that delivers quite powerfully the
sentiment that is perhaps the key message of the entire musical,
“How lovely life would seem if
every man could weave a dream to keep him from despair.”
And it is that message that makes this current production of
Man of La Mancha so timely and
relevant for an audience in which many are surely wondering how do we keep hope
alive and remain to any degree optimistic when daily Tweets, threats, and
executive edicts seem to be undoing everything that many of us believe to be
sacred. This wonderfully conceived and
executed Man of La Mancha by Custom
Made Theatre reminds us indeed that
“And the world will be better for
this,
That one man, scorned and covered
with scars,
Still strove, with his last ounce
of courage,
To reach the unreachable stars!”
Rating: 5 E, "Must-See"
Man of La Mancha
continues through February 17, 2018 at Custom Made Theatre Company, 533 Sutter
Street, San Francisco. Tickets are
available online at www.custommade.org
or by calling 415-789-2682 (CMTC).
Photo Credits: Jay
Yamada
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