Eine kleine Nachtmusik

I think I've mentioned before that we subscribe to two local theaters, one within walking distance (Acme), and the other a short drive away (Vokes). Last night, we went to Vokes, that charming little jewel box of a theater in Wayland, to see Sondheim's A Little Night Music.

(Note that the synopsis of the plot included at the link is nearly identical to what we saw, but contains twists making the characters appear more manipulative than the depictions we saw last night. In my experience, Sondheim's characters are not so much manipulative as unaware of their own feelings. They often allow their destinies to happen to them or they wake up to their destinies rather late in the game.)

Vokes does a lot of Sondheim's work, so I've had plenty of exposure over the last twenty years. I haven't always been a fan -- Sondheim tends towards the dark and depressing, and his music can be -er- dreary. In recent years though, I've felt that many of his plays get at some essential truth of humanity, a truth that I rarely see in plays. And I've started to hear some light in his music.

ALNM had some elements of the dark, but it was also farcical and sweet and quite funny. There were marvelous actors and terrific costumes, great music (mostly in waltzes), fun dancing, and good singing. I even enjoyed the oldest and youngest actors in the cast -- a woman perhaps in her late eighties, and a young girl in her mid-teens, both strong enough to stand up to the rest of the cast and to deliver their lines and songs credibly.

Some of the most comical moments happened when the two rival lovers had stand-offs. The first occurred in the drawing room of the object-of-their-affection, with one man arriving to find the other wearing the first man's robe. At that moment, the robe-wearer could easily have been smoking a cigarette, if you get my drift. There followed a marvelous confection of ridiculous explanation, hostile circling and staring, and harmonic whistling of tunes to fill tense silences. The recent arrival wished to undress and demanded his robe. The scene ended with the second man dressed in nothing but a nightgown and nightcap (belonging to the first man), leaving the apartment with all dignity intact.

The play includes a very famous song, often done cloyingly -- Send in the Clowns. I was actually dreading hearing it because I've come to hate it. It turns out that in the context of the play, it fit well, and the actors were able to pull it off beautifully. I imagine that feat to be about as difficult as delivering the Hamlet speech "To be or not to be" freshly and with conviction.

Despite the threads of cynicism throughout the play (marriage is impossible, men are impossible, women are impossible, and whatever happened to good old-fashioned liaisons, anyways?), Vokes did a great job of presenting a fun, and also at times, thought-provoking, evening. Bravo.