Review: THE 39 STEPS IS A DELIGHTFUL ROMP AT ELMWOOD PLAYHOUSE
Classic Movie Parody Sends Up Hitchcock with Hilarity
It seems improbable that a 1915 adventure novel set in Great Britain about wartime espionage, adapted into a classic 1935 suspense movie, would find renewed life as a loopy stage farce that faithfully tells the fast-moving, far-flung tale through a mere four actors.
Improbable, that is, unless the source material’s author, John Buchan, spins a bloody good yarn …and the farce’s English playwright, Patrick Barlow, achieves an ingenious economy of scale amplified with broad humor… and the director, Margaret Young (of Elmwood Playhouse), sharply orchestrates wise and witty stagecraft… and the quartet of actors act like quick-change artists who transform themselves seamlessly right before our eyes.
The production of “The 39 Steps” on stage now through June 6 at Elmwood Playhouse in Nyack, New York, has a blue-blood pedigree, hewing closely to the narrative arc of the acclaimed movie by Alfred Hitchcock. It was the 36-year-old Mr. Hitchcock’s second major feature in England and caught the attention of American audiences.
Mr. Barlow’s masterly parody premiered two decades ago on the West End (England’s Broadway) and won the Olivier (England’s Tony) for Best Comedy, and picked up a couple of technical Tony Awards when it was exported to our shores in 2007.
So pronounced is the raucous, madcap flavor of the show – consciously channeling the vaudevillian humor of early 20th Century English music halls, a setting that bookends the play – that the plot itself virtually plays second fiddle to the non-stop shenanigans, which are enough to make you plotz with guffaws throughout. And the significance of the title itself, when revealed --is a lot less mysterious than one might anticipate.
For the record, that plot has principal character Richard Hannay (Rob Eigenbrod) becoming ensnarled in a wartime plot by England’s enemies to steal its military secrets. Due to circumstances beyond his control, Hannay becomes a murder suspect who goes on the run in Scotland, accompanied by the dark and mysterious Pamela (Traci Redmond).
In this parody of suspense movie conventions, though, it’s not so much what’s going on as how it’s going on. In one memorable scene, Pamela is removing a stocking. Easy enough, except for the fact she and Hannay are handcuffed to each other, so he can’t help but help her take it off.
We follow the odd couple to assorted locations interior and exterior (across the Scottish moors, in a train, a London flat, a hotel, an assembly hall, and so on). Indicative of the resourcefulness and imagination conjured by author Mr. Barlow and by Ms. Young as director, each setting plays its role through still projection, abetted by a shrewdly employed stage turntable that keeps the rotating sets and actors and action moving apace with cinematic fluidity.
Along the way, we meet, according to various estimates, more than 100 characters. Other than the singular role of Hannay played throughout by Mr. Eigenbrod, the other three cast members take on every other character, and what a bunch of characters they be. Think Monty Python. That goes for Mr. Barlow’s spitfire dialogue as well, with bursts of exchanges that repeat the same phrase, creating a stylized effect that is almost musical.
Traci Redmond slinkily essays a couple of femmes fatale (Annabella and Pamela), as well as a Scottish farmer, or crofter (Margaret).
The weight of the remaining several dozen roles rests firmly on the highly capable shoulders of Christine Gnieksi (Clown 1) and Rob Webber (Clown 2), who execute their transformations so smoothly if you blink you might have missed one of their multiplicity of personas.
The piece de resistance of the Clowns’ ceaseless shape-shifting is a train scene where Mr. Webber, in effect, will be talking to himself, with his split personalities signaled by switching a hat and altering his vocal timbre. Ms. Gnieksi’s prodigious versatility delivers her own cast of characters compelling enough to convince you they are not the same person.
The train scene, oddly reminiscent of the opening scene of Broadway musical The Music Man, is beautifully choreographed by Ms. Young to hilarious effect. Suffice it to say after much fitful maneuvering among the passengers, Hannay ends up outside the moving train.
Mr. Eigenbrod’s spot-on suitability for the lead role as Hannay casts him as a bespoke bloke from central casting. He fits the script’s character breakdown precisely – elegant, attractive, pencil mustache. The actor brings to the part a delightful athleticism that has him fly feet first outside a window and another time cartwheel across the stage.
As with the visual metaphors provided by the projected backgrounds, also put to effective and efficient use are props such as a straight back wood chair held aloft to impersonate a bagpipe or chairs and a board and steering wheel quickly maneuvered to serve as a vehicle. There’s also a stubborn window shade that repeatedly snaps back up when drawn but then, like an obedient dog, somehow stays down finally.
Leave it to Elmwood’s property master par excellence Rich Ciero to figure out such stage sleight of hand, so he deserves lots of props. Another Elmwood behind-the-scenes stalwart, Mike Gnazzo, creates atmospheric lighting effects worthy of a 1930s monochrome movie, including angular shafts of light that bring to mind the pioneering work of German film auteur Fritz Lang, whom Mr. Gnazzo told me is a muse for his work.
Much credit too goes to Bill Mentz for the revolving set design, Maddelyn Curbelo for the wonderfully stylish period costumes, Larry Siege for sound design, stage manager Allison Schneider, producer Kathy Gnazzo, and assistant to the director Mitchell Schneider.
A nice touch is that for the pre-curtain housekeeping speech to the audience, a recording is played emulating Alfred Hitchcock’s memorable voice while the iconic line-drawing profile of him that opened his TV series is displayed. In the show, there are several easter eggs placed as homage to his movies – Hannay being chased by a plane as he runs “north by northwest,” a flock of “birds” harassing the characters, and reference to a “rear window.”
In her director’s note, Margaret Young point out the present-day relevance of remarks from a speech by Hannay in the play: “A world where no nation plots against nation! Where… there’s no persecution… where people try to help and not hinder!” That was written a century ago. The more things change…
Photo by Omar Kozarsky
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