Paper Mill's Guys and Dolls is Fast, Rowdy Romantic Fun

The problem with playing a classic role in a beloved old musical is that audiences still take to the theatre their memories (either live, on film or in cast albums) of the great performers who originated the parts. Ask anyone who's tried to put a new spin on the King of Siam or leave their personal mark on Fanny Brice. But actors in Guys and Dolls don't only have to deal with ghosts of Robert Alda, Vivian Blaine and Stubby Kaye (Not to mention Nathan Lane, Faith Prince, Frank Sinatra and Marlon Brando. Well, maybe not Brando.), but more often than not they must compete with the memory of some high school senior who was "good enough for Broadway" or some community theatre actor who was "the funniest thing I've ever seen."

See, Guys and Dolls is arguably the best written musical comedy ever produced on Broadway. It's really difficult to mess up Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows' vaudevillian book which nimbly intersects two main plots; a salvation army reformer who suffers from a classic case of "bad boy attraction" when she falls for the slickest gambler and womanizer in town, and a commitment-phobic dice game runner whose showgirl fiance' of fourteen years finally starts pressuring for the rock.

Combine that with a standard-filled Frank Loesser score that boasts well-crafted character songs ("Adelaide's Lament", "Sue Me"), swift-moving, street-wise ballads ("I'll Know', "My Time of Day"), jazzy pop ("Luck Be a Lady", "If I Were a Bell"), a sweet Irish lullaby ("More I Cannot Wish You"), a rousing 11 o'clock number ("Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat) and one of the catchiest title songs around and you've got a sure bet.

But with all due respect to the local thespians of Temple Beth Shalom and P.S. 285, it takes a deeper, savvy production, like the one currently gracing the stage of the Paper Mill Playhouse, to find the real gold in this 54 year old fairy tale of a era when Times Square was truly the country's most unique playground for grown ups, smack in the heart of little old New York.

New York sportswriter Damon Runyon provided the source for Swerling, Burrows and Loesser, via romanticized writings of his escapades at ballparks, pool halls and racetracks among an assortment of bookies, shills, evangelists, prize-fighters and the like. Changing their names to colorful monikers like Harry the Horse and Nicely-Nicely Johnson, his most popular pieces were published under the title Guys and Dolls. What The Paper Mill's production fascinatingly shows is how Damon Runyon's Broadway, as presented in Guys and Dolls, is pretty much a sanitized, Americanized version of the world Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht wrote about in the 1920's with The Threepenny Opera and Happy End. (Yes, I know -- I'm talking about Brecht in a review of Guys and Dolls. Sue me.) Not only does the plot of the latter (a romance between a Chicago gangster and a Salvation Army Miss) mirror the 1950 Broadway hit but the Brechtian cut-throats and theives share the Runyon gamblers' virtues of good grooming, proper etiquette and verbal eloquence. (Social satire for Brecht translated into broad comedy for Swerling/Burrows.) They wear the same loud striped and plaid suits, suitable for German music hall or American vaudeville (a snazzy collection coordinated by Randall Klein that suggests baggy pants comics and dashing, yet seedy, straight men) and see themselves as respectable gentlemen trying to make an honest living. Take away Macheath's knife and you got yourself Sky Masterson.

Tony Walton's set design, recycled from the 1992 Broadway revival, is true to the spirit of the show's original production. Before modern technology, many scenes in a typical Broadway musical were played in front of a show curtain, which not only provided time for on stage set changes, but also developed a style of musical which pushed performers up front, allowing a more intimate relationship between audience and actor. Some of the most thrilling moments in musical theatre history were originally played "in one". With Walton's series of backdrops depicting colorful Times Square images, a visit to this Guys and Dolls is more like a trip to an authentic 1950 Broadway production.

Oh, yes. There are actors too. Damn good ones, in fact.

Director Stafford Arima seems to have asked his four principles to underplay the comedy a bit. We maybe lose a smattering of laughs, but so much more is gained in tenderness and empathy. Robert Cuccioli's Sky is a classic leading man with a hard edge, singing with a smooth Broadway croon. As the straight-laced reformer, Kate Baldwin is never without a dash of endearing vulnerability, which makes her falling for Sky, and her ensuing tipsy antics, all the more believable.

A favorite among the current crop of Broadway song and dance stars, Karen Ziemba explores new territory as the long-suffering Miss Adelaide. A great Broadway belter and hoofer, Ziemba has little opportunity to use her most well-known talents in a role normally associated with character comics. Sure, she leads two big dance numbers, but like Sally Bowles in Cabaret, the idea is that Miss Adelaide is not exactly a major talent like... well, like Karen Ziemba. (Appropriately, Patricia Wllcox's choreography for the club scenes, and for most of the show in fact, downplays dance and cleverly highlights character and humor.) But her simple, affectation-free performance gets to the heart of Adelaide and effectively counters the slightly more eccentric Nathan Detriot, in the person of Michael Mastro. With jittery, angular movements and a bit of an outer-borough speech pattern, Mastro's Nathan is a lovable blue-collar lug doing his best to keep up with the big boys and to please his woman without letting go of his dreams to be up there with the high rollers. Their scenes together are warm, funny and pure Runyon.

But the spirit of Guys and Dolls is steeped in vaudeville (Swerling's experience as a vaudeville sketch writer and Burrow's background doing the same for radio is evident throughout the book, as many scenes play as routines.) and Arima's supporting cast keeps the proceedings fast and funny. Robert Creighton, as Nicely-Nicely Johnson, moves like Jimmy Cagney in his dancier days, often ball-changing his way across the stage in normal conversation. Matched with the tough guy elegance of Robert DuSold as Benny Southstreet, the two of them turn the catchy title song into a real rouser. Tony Cucci's Big Jule is a delightfully dangerous big kid and Tia Speros' randy general Cartwright is a hoot.

Musical comedy can seem deceptively simple at times, but it takes a top-notch production like The Paper Mill's to showcase the richness and vibrancy of this American classic.

For information on Guys and Dolls visit papermill.org

Photos:
1. Kate Baldwin and Robert Cuccioli as Sarah Brown and Sky Masterson

2. Michael Mastro and Karen Ziemba as Nathan Detroit and Miss Adelaide

3. Sky Masterson and the Crapshooters performing Luck Be a Lady

4. Robert DuSold, Robert Creighton, and Eric Buckley as Benny Southstreet, Nicely-Nicely Johnson, and Rusty Charlie performing Fugue for Tinhorns

Photos by Gerry Goodstein.

For Michael Dale's "mad adventures of a straight boy living in a gay world" visit dry2olives.com