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SportsGypsy
Friday, Aug. 1, 2008
 Click here to enlarge this photo Photo by RICHIE DOWNS
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In its first year, it ranked among the largest young artist programs in the U.S. And why did Morton do it?
The ambitious director of Saltnote Studios in Waldorf wanted to give her students a chance to share a stage with some of the best in the world of opera, theater and dance.
And there was Morton playing Rose on July 25.
There she was, shihtzu in her arms, barreling down the aisle of Port Tobacco Players Theater, waving out and yelling at the orchestra to cut the music so her daughters, Louise and June (or at least June), could start over.
June, Rose says — as in the one looking a bit clownish in a colorful dress (played here by Abby Barber) — is going to be a star. That’s right, the girl trying to be as cute as she can and sing even squeakier is bound for vaudeville stardom.
The young Louise (Deana Gilley), meanwhile, wearing boyish clothes, sways awkwardly to the music while her lips appear sewn shut.
Rose, of course, stands in the thick of it all — front-and-center — until she chases the girl in the balloon costume off the stage.
Let us be clear from the start: Morton is not the maniacal and monstrous Rose. Still, as she wrestled with this immortal role of the prototypically aggressive stage mother during the Port Tobacco Players’ opening night of ‘‘Gypsy,” it certainly seemed worth nothing.
Maybe it is a case of ambition.
The 17 straight nights of performances in Indian Head in June. Now, an immortal role in musical theater. This is a role that makes or breaks any company’s rendition of ‘‘Gypsy.”
In ‘‘Gypsy,” Rose is the force around which everything and everyone revolves. She is the show, and her personality is incredibly complex.
Rose can be funny one second, stomach-turning the next. She is ruthless yet vulnerable. She is narcissistic and irrational, maybe even borderline deranged. At times, however, one admires her steadfastness as well as her uncontainable sense of independence.
Originally a project of producer David Merrick and actress Ethel Merman, the plot is loosely based on the 1957 memoir of the famous striptease artist, Gypsy Rose Lee. Jule Styne wrote the music. Stephen Sondheim wrote the lyrics. There was also a book by Arthur Laurents.
Louise is based on Lee and June is based on Lee’s sister, the actress June Havoc.
In ‘‘Gypsy,” Rose, who says three marriages were enough, would rather be poor than have anything to do with your average suburban life. She wants to make her daughters famous. ‘‘Anybody that stays home is dead,” she says.
In Los Angeles, she convinces agent-turned-candy seller, Herbie (David Bayles), to represent June and Louise. Herbie wants marriage; Rose wants vaudeville fame, although she might marry Herbie if he gets her what she wants.
Rose’s acts involve a cast of boys and girls backing up Dainty June (Stevie Rae Koncen), a ‘‘4 foot 4 bundle of dynamite.” While the name of the act changes from time to time, little else does. For ‘‘Dainty June and The Farmhands,” Louise (Angela Brockunier) is relegated to the front end of a cow costume.
In the second act, after June runs off, Rose tries to replace her with Louise in an all-girls show, ‘‘Mama Rose’s Toreadorables.” Louise, unfortunately, cannot do a split or twirl a baton.
The group winds up in a burlesque house in Wichita, Kan. Louise, filling in for the lead dancer, steals the show. Soon she is famous, and Rose is no longer necessary.
Produced by Cheryl M. Reckeweg and directed by Joel Stine, the Port Tobacco Players production of ‘‘Gypsy” delivers the visual experience of this legendary musical in stunning detail. After each scene, flappers walk across the stage and turn a card mounted on an easel stating which city Rose and her girls have entered.
No corners were cut with costumes. From the sterling Uncle Sam getups to the seemingly endless supply of sparkling dresses, no one caught a raw end on the costume deal, whether it was Uncle Jocko’s kids, June’s backups, burlesque dancers, showgirls or the pharaohs who carried out Louise (Gypsy Rose Lee by this point) in a Queen of Egypt getup.
The sets are outstanding. They range from elaborate hand-drawn scrims, which provided both cityscapes and landscapes for backdrops, to a fold-out patriotic, bald eagle backdrop which punctuated Rose’s idea of ‘‘the big finish” in the vaudeville act. (Rose, apparently, was not one for subtlety.) The setup, meanwhile, for a scene in a Chinese restaurant, was stunning.
More energy, however, should have been devoted to substance. Opening night lines were frequently forgotten. Performances were generally a bit stiff. The orchestra and cast were often out of step, and most of the cast did not seem entirely immersed in their characters.
Morton’s opening night performance of Rose was dazzling at times and yet also uneven. She had the charisma, acting ability and vocal power needed to play Rose, but she was still accruing the necessary confidence it takes to dominate the stage. Since there is no possible way to go over the top in playing Rose, it seemed like Morton could have turned the drama meter up a few notches, or perhaps the orchestra could have turned it down a few when it came time for her to sing.
By Sunday, however, it was an entirely different story. Morton’s grip on the audience was firm. While it is safe to say that the majority of Sunday’s audience was familiar with ‘‘Gypsy,” Morton’s performance seemed to be taking people through it again for the first time: There were gasps when Rose was at her worst and then sniffles when she was most vulnerable.
When Morton stood at the edge of the stage, she was the real Rose, a soul laid bare. While she continued with a more contained approach during the songs (I often wished she would use her pipes to fill the hall), on Sunday she at least made it clear that her performance was a crescendo, with everything clearing the way for a stirring final number, ‘‘Rose’s Turn.”
Brockunier as Louise also stepped up on Sunday to deliver a more resonant performance that captured her character’s mix of gawkiness, grace and, in the end, newfound confidence. It was the current between her and Morton that lifted Sunday’s performance to a higher level.
Certain individual performances remained splendid. Koncen was more than apt as June. John Raley seemed perfect for Mr. Goldstone. Hillori Schenker provided some comic relief with ironic dry humor courtesy of the secretary, Miss Cratchitt, and then through the airy confidence of a burlesque dancer.
No doubt, the most hilarious scene of this play is pulled off by the three burlesque dancers who demonstrated to Louise the importance of having a gimmick in the second act showstopper, ‘‘Gotta Get a Gimmick.”
But in the end, appropriately, it is Morton who steals the show.
Her character was defined in 1959 by Merman and redefined in 2003 by Bernadette Peters. Now it is Patti Lupone in a 2008 Broadway revival.
In La Plata, as the stage goes black and the name Rose begins to burst out in lights, it is Morton making her own indelible mark with ‘‘Rose’s Turn,” the final stirring crack-up.
On Friday, it was a jab. On Sunday, it was a knock-out punch.
