Review - Death Takes A Holiday: How Can Love Survive?

The unfortunate case of laryngitis inflicting Death Takes A Holiday's leading man, Julian Ovenden, divided press reservations for the new musical into "before" and "after." I was originally scheduled to see the show the week of its opening, but when understudy Kevin Earley began filling in, many of us were, understandably, put on hold to wait for his return.

It never happened. Ovenden eventually withdrew from the production, Earley has taken on the role full-time, and the remaining press was re-invited to attend. I'm delighted to say that this scrumptious and intimate musical was well worth the wait. Death Takes A Holiday may have some snags here and there, but they're mostly inconsequential compared with the opportunity to hear Maury Yeston's gorgeous, sweepingly romantic score sung by some of the most thrilling voices currently employed on Gotham's musical theatre stages.

The piece originates from an Italian play by Alberto Casella, which was adapted into English and opened on Broadway in 1929. Set shortly after the end of The Great War, it's the story of how the Grim Reaper himself, overworked by the recent conflict, decides to take a few days off after falling in love at first sight with a pretty young Italian girl who gets thrown from a fast-moving car. Normally, the accident would have killed her, but he spares her life - and, temporarily, the lives of everything on earth - in hopes of a romantic weekend.

Death takes on the identity of Russian prince, played with an attractively boyish masculinity by Earley (who sings with a rich and expressive high baritone), and finds himself in the lakeside villa of the Duke and Duchess Lamberti (Michael Siberry and Rebecca Luker), parents of the rescued Grazia (an enchanting Jill Paice). Grazia is engaged to the driver of the vehicle, Corrado Montelli (a coolly dignified Max Von Essen), but we never see any moments of love or passion between them, suggesting their marriage is rooted more in social expectations than romance, and she quickly finds herself drawn to the handsome, though somewhat socially inept, prince.

Performed by a ten piece ensemble, Yeston's sumptuous score, with pleasing chamber orchestrations by Larry Hochman, gracefully glides from operetta to musical theatre to 1920s pastiche. But his lyrics, though polished and professional, never quite match the high romanticism of his music.

The same holds true of the book. Though written by two masters of musical theater craftsmanship (Thomas Meehan took on the project after the death of Peter Stone), the main romance never takes control as the driving force of the text. Each of the cast's 14 members plays a role and Death establishes some kind of connection with nearly all of them, making him question his eternal function.

A main character who is never seen, but who is the subject of two of the evenings most memorable musical moments, is the Lamberti's son, Roberto. Matt Cavenaugh, as the aviator who witnessed Roberto's death during the war, vocally soars in his dramatic ballad about the moment and Luker displays her sublime interpretive skills and still-entrancing soprano in her song about the Duchess' loss. Mara Davi plays Roberto's widow, who literally flirts with death in a lively Charleston number. Though Simon Jones, as the family doctor, and Linda Balgord, as Grazia's widowed grandmother, are perfectly charming in their duet, the moment seems superfluous, as it occurs late in the second act, shortly after Earley's superb vocals were engaged in his big dramatic number. And while Alexandra Socha is very funny as the aviator's little sister, crushing on Corrado, her comic number with von Essen about losing at love, a perfectly good song, also seemed wedged into the show to give their characters some featured material. Also very funny is Don Stephenson, as the jittery majordomo who has learned the secret of the surprise houseguest.

Musicals requiring cars often present a problem for directors and set designers and the musical scene dramatizing Grazia's accident is done with the standard solution of having actors maneuvering chairs. But aside from that, designer Derek McLane utilizes very little in the way of set pieces, leaving a good deal of open space on stage. Director Doug Hughes' staging gets static at times, with actors doing a lot of standing around and too often the production resembles a concert mounting.

Nevertheless, with an excellent cast (looking dazzling in Catherine Zuber's combination of elegant and sporty attire) and music befitting the story's romantic fantasy, Death Takes A Holiday is grand entertainment, worthy of toasting with a finer vintage.

Photos by Joan Marcus: Top: Matt Cavenaugh, Mara Davi, Max Von Essen, Alexandra Socha, Rebecca Luker, Michael Siberry, Patricia Noonan, Simon Jones and Linda Balgord; Bottom: Alexandra Socha and Max Von Essen.

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The best known works of playwright/cross-dressing actor Charles Busch fall into two distinct categories. There are the plays he stars in and there are the plays populated by characters that probably regularly attend the plays he stars in.

Up until now, the latter category had only one entry, his comedy of Upper West Side manners, The Tale of The Allergist's Wife, but now Olive and The Bitter Herbs - which is not a play where Mr. Busch plays a 60s soul singer with three same-named backup singers - offers another taste of the kind of urban Jewish comedy that used to be mainstream Broadway fare. The message behind the supernatural aspect of his story may not be entirely clear, but Busch delivers the gags and zingers with crackling frequency, and with a great cast guided by director Mark Brokaw, the evening is clearly a riot.

The Olive in question is a cantankerous, elderly actress (an excellent Marcia Jean Kurtz); the only remaining renter in her Kips Bay co-op building ("It's not uptown, downtown or midtown. There's no charm or local color. We have a great abundance of dry cleaners.") She's played the classics of the stage but is most known for a popular series of commercials where her sneering face uttered the immortal catchphrase, "Gimme the sausage!" Though she has a history of not being easy to work with, her chance to be appreciated as a serious actress may have finally arrived as she's just shot four scenes as a guest star in a popular television drama, playing a Holocaust survivor suspected of killing a teenage Neo-Nazi.

The only positive influence in her life is Wendy (the terrific Julie Halston), a theatre company manager who has taken it upon herself to look after Olive. It's Wendy's affection for the title character, played with an Ethel Mertz-like sidekick appeal by Halston, that helps the audience like her, too. The author also gives Olive a painful speech about a cruel act performed by a past theatre company member, played with aching simplicity by Kurtz, that helps us sympathize.

"There's something in my body chemistry that provokes people to hurt me," says Olive, who believes that her new neighbors are "monsters" who entertain guests as late as nine at night and who are intentionally allowing the aroma of their pungent cheeses to permeate through the walls into her apartment.

They are, in actuality, a pretty nice couple. Robert (David Garrison) is one of those cultured, educated New York nice guys and his partner Trey (Dan Butler) has got the snarky zingers to match anything Olive can throw at him. Garrison and Butler play well at maneuvering through the tension in their characters' relationship. Robert was a very successful children's books editor, with Trey as his illustrator. But since Robert's retirement, Trey has had trouble getting work because the industry saw them as a team.

Also making an appearance is a sweet, teddy bear of a man named Sylvan (soft-spoken and loveable Richard Masur), the father of the co-op board president trying to act as peacemaker between Olive and his daughter. There is some attraction between Olive and the thrice-widowed Jew who has retired to Argentina, but what seems to attract everyone who enters the apartment is a large wall mirror mounted directly across from another mirror across the room. Everyone gets the sense that there's a familiar force of some kind drawing them to the mirror. Olive believes it to be a man namEd Howard.

Perhaps it's Howard that has influenced the unlikely kinship growing between this collection of souls and has convinced Olive to invite everyone over for Passover Seder. (This results in one of the play's funniest scenes where her negative spirit coats her explanation of the symbols of the Seder plate.) But while Howard is never quite satisfactorily explained, the unraveling of connections between each character and the man in the mirror gives the second act a hilarious few minutes of writing and timing.

I suspect Howard, or whatever is in that mirror, has something to do with a positive energy trying to combat Olive's negative force, but not being sure doesn't bother me so much. Charles Busch's new play is wonderfully funny throughout and that's enough positive energy for me.

Photos by James Leynse: Top: Julie Halston and Marcia Jean Kurtz; Bottom: Dan Butler, Marcia Jean Kurtz, Richard Masur and David Garrison.

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