Musical ‘Company’ captures big-city angst
When Stephen Sondheim’s "Company" first hit Broadway in 1970, it was generally regarded as the first adult musical to tackle an adult subject in an adult way. Its look at marriage through a circle of friends in modern Manhattan was ruthless and loving.
The Nevada Conservatory Theatre’s production is all that and more.
Union actor Anthony Holds plays Bobby, a 35-year-old bachelor who loves women but hates the drawbacks of permanent partnership. Holds makes you understand why everyone wants to parent Bobby. He’s attractive in a masculine, boyish way, affable, and emotionally needy.
Best of all, he and guest director Michael Lichtefeld have made certain Bobby doesn’t come across as a polished actor (even though Holds is). When Bobby gets it all together for his big final number — "Being Alive" — Holds doesn’t get all Vegas-y on us. He delivers with a minimum of fuss. At one point, he turns his back on the audience for an entire verse, and it has an overwhelming effect. It suggests that Bobby is having a private discovery, as opposed to Holds trying to stop the show.
Bobby’s friends come from the same bottle of big-city angst. Leading the neurotic pack is Elena Ferrante as the acidic Joanne, who takes advantage of every opportunity for clever put-downs. Ferrante has a marvelous bite to her speech and a raspy way of pounding out insults. But she’s also blessed with a pleasing, legitimate voice. She makes use of both talents in her show-stopping "The Ladies Who Lunch."
The rest of the cast is adequate for university entertainment, but perhaps not as character-oriented as one might hope.
Ron Keller’s set is a curiosity. Up close, it gives off enough color and variety to make you feel lost in a sea of swank, high-rise apartments. From a distance (I sat in the back for the second act) it feels funereal black, with plain, dark platforms and stage floor. The somber look goes against the grain of the energetic music.
Lichtefeld’s direction, though, captures the insanity that is New York. His fast pacing feels like an additional character in the production. I can’t recall one pause that’s a minisecond too long. He’s also careful not to let the show drown in cynicism. He gets us to care about these kooks. I can’t imagine any adult seeing this production and not questioning the pluses and minuses in their own relationships.
Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.