University of Virginia Library

Dickens At Albemarle

OLIVER: Book, music, and
lyrics by Lionel art. Directed by
Wes Simpers. Choreography by
Joyce tor. Production design by
George Miller, Jr. Musical director,
Lois Bckwith Executive Producer,
Max Kp. Wednesdays through
Saturdays through August 4 at the
Albemarle Playhouse.

When Lionel Bart's Oliver!
opened on Broadway in 1962,
it proved to be one of the
theater's more unusual musical
successes. Indeed, whoever
thought that Dickens' Oliver
Twist would lend itself to song
and dance?

The story of a young
orphan's ominous odyssey
from a workhouse to a funeral
parlor to a den of thieves and
finally to his rightful home
does not classify as your
customary boy-meets-girl
musical fable. And in his
adaptation, Bart
understandably "lightened"
the material considerably,
leaving only one real "heavy"
and interspersing several
upbeat numbers with what is
basically a downbeat story.

Such an approach was
dangerous (for he was partially
ripping the fiber of the
original), yet despite the
carping of some purist critics
who argue that the music does
not suit the tone of the action,
it works beautifully – for one
reason. The score, which may
in fact be a bastardization of
the Dickensian flavor, is so
tuneful, so brilliant, and so
superior to the standard
musical fare that no one who
knows how to hum is going to
compromise his pleasure by
arguing its suitability to
Dickens' original text.

The current production of
Oliver! at the Albemarle
Playhouse provides a good
showcase for Bart's melodious
score (rarely at the Playhouse
have songs been this well sung),
and accordingly the evening
proves rewarding. Director Wes
Simpers, recovering from his
Mame debacle, has got himself
– and the show – pretty much
on the right track this time.

He hasn't quite captured
the haunting ambiance which
must co-exist with the musical
gaiety, and his pacing seems a
little fast (part of which is
undoubtedly due to Bart's
libretto being underwritten).
But there are some nice
touches to his handling of the
can't-miss material, as well as
some imaginative use of the
Playhouse space.

Simpers' main problem as a
director seems, oddly enough,
to be in the area of character
interpretation. In Mame he
allowed Mrs. Upson, the
uppity-uppity Connecticut
socialite, to be played as a
Bronx fishwife, and now in
Oliver! he permits
(encourages?) Thom Jones to
portray the disciplinarian
workhouse keeper, Mr.
Bumble, as an obe buffoon
complete with bright blue
costume, thus negating the
desired effect of that
character's scenes, particularly
the usually chilling "Boy For
Sale" number in which he
walks the streets of London
trying to sell Oliver.

For the most part however,
the cast acquits itself
splendidly. Paul Ames makes a
fine Fagin with his perfectly
proportioned blend of
villainy, avariciousness and
musical comedy warmth Lo
Beckwith's Nancy is a Justy,
hands-on-the-hips, big voice
portrayal of the tavern wench
with a heart, and her rendition
of the show's top ballad, "As
Long As He Needs Me," is
powerfully delivered.

George Miller, Jr. is
properly cocky as the Artful
Dodger, and makes the most of
his "Consider Yourself"
audience pleaser. Steve Tharp,
as the nefarious Bill Sikes, adds
a touch of the elusive ominous
quality to the production, as
does Martha Gipson in the role
of the undertaker's wife, one
of two which she performs
with her usual authority.

And, finally, the kids, all of
whom deserve credit for
displaying a stage presence that
makes their appearances
something to relish rather than
regret. In the only major
child's role. Glenn Mebur, as
Oliver, comes across as one of
the most pleasing young actors
I've seen in a long time, in or
out of New York. He takes the
saccharine out of the role
(even, amazingly enough, out
of the "Where Is Love?"
number), and unlike many
other Olivers, including Mark
Lester in the film version, plays
a kid as a kid should be played,
and not as Little Lord
Fauntleroy.

Two things I do wish the
Playhouse would dispense with
are their 40-minute
intermissions, which are
deadening to the senses as well
as to the show they are
presenting, and the gratuitous,
narcissistic comments the
Playhouse personnel write
about themselves in the
program. This last
self-indulgence is especially
irking, for not only is it
rank-amateurish to tell the
audience how great you are
(particularly if you're not), but
it is also indicative of the
unhealthy self-congratulatory
attitude which has too long
prevailed at the Playhouse.

—Steve Wells