Review: THE DROWSY CHAPERONE at Short North Stage

It’s not necessarily a good sign when a musical opens in a pitch black theatre with a word of prayer.

To break the tension of The Short North Stage’s The Drowsy Chaperone, the Man in Chair (the delightfully droll Jeremy Scott Blaustein) makes a supplication to The Big Guy: “Oh, God, please let it be a good show. And let it be short, oh Lord in heaven, please. Two hours is fine, three hours is too much. And keep the actors out of the audience. I didn't pay good money to have the fourth wall come crashing down around my ears. I just want a story, and a few songs that will take me away. I want to be entertained. I mean, isn't that the point? Amen." 

Apparently, God listens to theatregoers.

Although the cast took a wrecking ball to the fourth wall separating the audience from the actors and the show within a show is intentionally light on plot, The Drowsy Chaperone serves up a cocktail that is two shots of Golden Age musicals, a jigger of acerbic wit, three parts parody, and a half ounce of honesty. The concoction, created by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison (music and lyrics) and Bob Martin and Don McKellar (book), will be available May 8-June 1 at the Garden Theatre (1187 N. High Street in downtown Columbus).

The musical began as a light-hearted wedding gift to Martin (writer of SMASH and BOOP) and actress Janet Van DeGraff. Friends created a fictional Broadway show to celebrate the couple’s love of over-the-top, Golden Age musicals.

Both Martin and Van DeGraff are written into the final draft of The Drowsy Chaperone. In the SNS production, Martin (Craig Blake) is set to marry Broadway star Van DeGraff (Connor Lyon). Since Van DeGraff is leaving his current production, Broadway producer Feldzieg (Aaron Natarelli) is out to sabotage the nuptials and thus, have the actress return to the stage. Feldzieg’s ditzy girlfriend Kitty (Lisa Glover), Van DeGraff’s understudy, sees the actress’s departure as her ticket into the show’s starring role and therefore wants to see the wedding go off without a hitch. Martin’s best man George (Ariel Messeca) has a habitual drunk friend of the bride (Nick Hardin) serve as a chaperone to keep the couple away from each other before the wedding.

Despite some catchy numbers, if The Drowsy Chaperone were an actual show, it would have been resigned to the dustbins of the Golden Age library. What makes the show click is Blaustein’s Man in Chair, an avid theatre fan who is social distancing himself in his apartment because he feels “blue.” His only companions are his record player, a collection of original soundtracks, and of course, the audience who listens to his running commentary on the show. “We have a bride who’s giving up the stage for love, her debonair bridegroom, a harried producer, jovial gangsters (Cody Schmid and Cody Velazco) posing as pastry chefs, and an aviatrix (Bessie D. Smith) - what we now call a lesbian,” he says.

As the musical takes over his apartment, The Man in Chair dances along with the actors yet remains invisible to them. Think of it as a musical version of the 1990s television show “Mystery Science Theater 3000” in which two humans and their robots make wisecracks while watching old sci-fi shows. The Man in Chair loves these types of musicals and the performers who played in them. His joy is only interrupted when the outside world – a phone call (a nudge to theatre goers who have experienced cell phones ringing during a performance), a knock at the door, a scratch on a record – intervenes.

At the same time, the Man in Chair does not overlook the musical genre’s faults. When discussing “A Message from the Nightengale,” another fictitious musical with a wink to The King and I, he talks about the man playing the emperor is the same one playing Adolpho (Jordan B. Stocksdale), the Latin Lover in The Drowsy Chaperone. “He was the man of a thousand accents, all of them offensive,” the Man in Chair wryly muses.

However, parody only works when the ones performing it seem oblivious to the joke. The Drowsy Chaperone cast are not clowning it up for laughs; they seem to be playing it as if it were a true 1920s musical. Hardin is a perfect pick to play “Beatrice Stockwell,” the aging diva playing the drowsy chaperone. Jealous of “Jane Roberts,” the upcoming actress playing Janet Van DeGraff, Stockwell does everything to sabotage the younger star. She sticks out her hands to block the other actress’s face while hitting a dramatic high note or intentionally steps in front of “Roberts” when delivering a line.

Among the many highlights is Lyon’s rendition of “I Don’t Want to Show Off,” sung while she’s posing for the press, changing outfits, performing magic tricks, playing a solo on wine glasses, and doing various gymnastic feats. Equally impressive is Blake who displays some solid tap dancing skills with Messeca in “Cold Feet” and roller skates while “blindfolded” to keep himself from seeing the bride in “Accident Waiting to Happen.” (That’s a perfectly logical thing … in a 1920s musical.)

Woven into this musical tapestry are the comedic performances of Julie Russell (Mrs. Tottendale, a forgetful dowager) and Luke Bovenizer (Underling, Tottendale’s manservant). The mere fact Bovenizer’s character is only referred to as “underling” through the entire evening is funny; their spit take scene is uproarious.

SNS has been continuously praised for how it puts together these outstanding collaborative casts and this one is no different. The ensemble of Aidan Edwards, Louis Contreras Hansen, MK McDonald, and Josiah Thomas Randolph help make what is happening in the background as entertaining as what is going on up front.

What often gets overlooked in shows is the costuming, lighting work and set design. Costume Designer Darcy Kane and Carignan, who designed Hardin’s outfits, capture the styles of the 1920s. Chris Lipstreu’s lighting transitions the mood from the drab, dull apartment to the festive feel of the wedding scenes. Aiding in that changeover is the smart, bright set design of Antonio DiBernardo. The Drowsy Chaperone starts out in The Man In Chair’s apartment overlooking downtown New York. Its windows show the depth of the city’s skyline. The stage has so many moving pieces as the scene shifts from the multiple parts of The Drowsy Chaperone scenery without leaving the confines of the apartment. Actors emerge from the refrigerator, divans slide in from the sides, park benches emerge and even a biplane with eight wing walkers soar in a Busby Berkeley kind of way.

The glitz, the glamour, the gowns, and the guffaws and gags all create a quality production, but it is its heart that makes The Drowsy Chaperone stand out.

“Everything always works out in musicals. In the real world, nothing ever works out and the only people who burst into song are the hopelessly deranged,” the Man in Chair says at one point but he confesses why he loves this musical. “I know it’s not a perfect show,” he says. “The spit take scene is lame, and the monkey motif is labored, but it does what a musical is supposed to do: it takes you to another world, and it gives you a tune to carry with you in your head when you’re feeling blue.”

Apparently, his prayer was answered.

Photo credits: Fyrebird Media