In the famous Act One finale
of Mame, the musical's irresistible title character captures a fox and single-handedly
revives the drowsy South, sending its courtly gentlemen and Georgia
peaches into an ecstatic serenade of acceptance and very high octaves.
It's a rousing number in the Kennedy Center's gorgeously-mounted
production, but it's hard to find the same kind of enthusiasm with
Christine Baranski filling Mame's jodhpurs.
The show is like a mint julep with plenty of flavor and buzz; its miscast leading lady
has just skimmed off some of the texture.
It doesn't exactly hurt that
a physically spectacular staging has been built around one of the most
intoxicating shows of Broadway's Golden Age. Based on Patrick
Dennis' comic memoir Auntie Mame and the classic play it inspired, Mame
boasts a witty and almost criminally catchy score by Jerry Herman as
well as a zinging book by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee (who crafted
the play). There's
nothing remotely innovate about Mame and sure, it's a little dated,
but it represents the kind of sophistication and craftsmanship that is
all too rare on Broadway today.
And of course, Mame, originally
played by Angela Lansbury and now channeled by Christine Baranski, is
one of the great leading lady roles. She's the glamorous, larger-than-life
whirlwind of a woman whose unconventional upbringing of her young nephew
Patrick (Harrison Chad)—including enrolling him in a clothing-optional
school and teaching him how to mix the right martini—whets his appetite
for the Bohemian banquet of life in which Mame delights.
She also has her own adventures sprinkling Yankee sunshine over the
faded South of her husband Beauregard Jackson Pickett Burnside (a charming
Jeff McCarthy) and keeping the older Patrick (Max von Essen, in a solid,
sweet performance) from marrying a nouveau riche peroxide blonde (Sarah
Jane Everman).
Eric Schaeffer, whose staging
is fleet and bright, has ensured that the comic hijinks and production
numbers are wrapped in a sumptuous staging, as Mame zips along from
the 20s to the mid-40s. Set designer Walt Spangler and costume designer
Gregg Barnes, with the aid of Ken Billington's lighting, have struck
the perfect balance between the elegant and the garish (a description
that might apply to the musical itself). Flapper gowns drenched
in sequins give way to genteel Georgia fashions, just as the semi-abstract
sets change from neon skyscrapers and chrome to a bougainvillea-draped
manor to an apartment streaked with Op Art-esque designs. Mame brims with visual
wit. "The Man in the Moon is a Lady," sung by Mame's bosom
buddy Vera Charles (Harriet Harris) to the rhythm of big plastic bubbles,
is a hilariously insipid show-within-a-show production number out of
a low-rent Ziegfeld Follies.
As Mame, Christine Baranski
is growing into a role which was not ideal casting to begin with.
Oh, she's in fine voice and dances with limber grace. She has
presence, comic timing, energy and the ability to look great in a blond
bob and slinky costumes. For an actress who has gained a reputation
for playing acid-tongued and aloof roles, Baranski gives Mame a certain warmth.
Yet she's playing a character whose name has become a synonym for
free-spirited eccentricity, and there are few moments in her performance
that aren't controlled. As of now, there's too much Upper
West Side and not enough of wild Beekman Place.
