BWW Reviews: Boho's PIPPIN Does The Magic At Theater Wit

For the next four weekends (until November 13, 2011), this year's unofficial Chicagoland Stephen Schwartz festival continues at the Theater Wit multiplex facility on Belmont Avenue. That's where the Bohemian Theatre Ensemble, aka Boho Theatre, has mounted a thoroughly relevant and highly riveting production of the first show the lyricist and composer wrote (while he was in college) and the first to make it to Broadway, where it opened in 1972 in a legendary production staged by Bob Fosse at the height of his power.  That version starred Ben Vereen, John Rubinstein and Jill Clayburgh, with Ann Reinking in the chorus, and it featured a one-scene, "urban legendary" vaudeville turn by Irene Ryan, "Granny" Clampitt from the phenomenally popular television series, "The Beverly Hillbillies." (No, she didn't die onstage, or even backstage, as it turns out.)

In the last twelve months, we've seen "Wicked," "Working," "Godspell" and the new revue "Snapshots" in these here parts, and Schwartz himself has been to town more than once. So, a production of the once popular "Pippin" (book credited to Roger O. Hirson) is not surprising, and is certainly welcome. What's surprising is how timely the show is. Granted, this production is a "modern dress" one, with mostly contemporary clothes, or at least contemporary clubkid clothes, by Bill Morey (he does have a knack for making everybody look sexy, doesn't he?). But the scene in which King Pippin grants the peasants the land they work, removes taxes on the nobility and disbands the army, only to try and change his mind on all of the above and then flee to the countryside when the Huns (or was it the Goths or the Visigoths?) attack his kingdom, is straight out of the front pages and Facebook walls of our current national discourse. Director Peter Marston Sullivan knows what's important in this story of Charlemagne's son and his search for fulfillment, and brings it home.

That throne room scene certainly got my attention, as did the final sequence, still a stunning coup de theatre after all these years (even though this production uses an alternate ending to the published script I have in my library). The ending is haunting, quite moving, hard to watch, and very fitting. If the scene design (by John Zuiker) was flashier the ending might have more resonance, but the sets are certainly theatrical in nature, as is very appropriate. And I loved the use of chairs, a la "Grand Hotel" at the beginning, reminiscent of "The Scottsboro Boys" during "Glory" and evocative of "Les Miserables" at the end. (Stage Manager Casey Schillo is credited with the properties, and the serviceable lights are by Christopher Burpee.)

Choreographer Brenda Didier is something of a goddess here, in that the show (and the show within the show) is Fosse-esque without being derivative, clean and well-drilled without being automatic, and features great ensemble performances from the oft-Jeffed Maggie Portman and the gifted Kelsey Andres (oh, my God, her fouettes!) After his turn as Lewis, the impossibly lanky Sawyer Smith joins the ensemble as well, alongside Christopher Logan, Leslie Allison Smith and Daniel Spagnuolo (who I think is now in his fifth professional Chicago production of the year). The dances Didier has crafted for them (particularly during "Glory" and for the orgy sequence after "With You") are sensational, and simply must be seen. Really sensational!

Musical director Nick Sula, leading an orchestra of four, does great work in capturing Schwartz's early, jaunty gospel-pop-rock style on a shoestring budget. And when the cast sings together, they sound pretty phenomenal! It's a strong, well-balanced, confident and idiomatic choral sound. Bravo.

Less vocally successful are some of the principal players, whose voices nevertheless are well-suited to their characters and which at times do indeed rise to the demands of the score and the dramatic situations. But don't get me wrong--I liked them all, very much. Leading Player Travis Porchia is sexy and dangerous (even if he needs to connect with the audience a little more), and Shaun Nathan Baer as Pippin is sexy and appealing and empathetic. Both of these young performers go a long way to abolishing memories of their precursors in these iconic roles. Michael Kingston does brave, broad and hilarious character work, Jenny Lamb is a cougar non pareil, young Gabriel Stern is a winning and honest little boy, and Dana Tretta continues to surprise me with her dramatic range, this time playing a warm and wholesome soubrette with three second act charm-song ballads that would defeat any but the most experienced of musical theater actresses.