Town Theatre Pushes Traditional Boundaries With “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels”

Review by August Krickel.

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Town Theatre's first show of the new year, was based on a moderately successful 1980's film with Steve Martin and Michael Caine, which in turn was based on a lesser known David Niven-Marlon Brando farce from the 1960's. Critics received its Broadway debut pleasantly but not ecstatically; the play had a decent run of a year and a half, and was nominated for a number of Tony Awards, winning only Best Actor. Not surprisingly, Town's production is a modest success, undeniably entertaining, and often funny, if never exactly exhilarating. While perhaps only a small step for local musicals, this may be a giant leap for the nation's oldest community theatre, now in its 93rd season.

Kyle L. Collins is perfectly cast as Lawrence, a suave con artist preying on the jet set of the French Riviera. Doug Gleason is Freddy, a low-rent grifter who aspires to Lawrence's level of success. Assorted plot devices lead them first to join forces, eventually squaring off against each other, with the luscious "soap queen" Christine Colgate (Giulia Dalbec-Matthews) and her assets, both fiscal and physical, as the
 prize. It's exactly the sort of plot that would have featured Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour in the 1940's, or Dean Martin, Jerry Lewis and Shirley MacLaine in the 1950's.

As in those films, jokes are broad, physical comedy broader, songs are rich and melodic yet generic, and sometimes the fourth wall is broken for comic effect; when a "mark" assumes that she is now engaged to Lawrence, Collins turns to the audience and asks "Wait, did I miss a scene?" Gleason's over-the-top characterization borders at times on mugging, but your level of affinity or tolerance for Steve Martin-style buffoonery at its most extreme will guide your appreciation of Freddy. Surprisingly, his singing voice is rich and pleasing, and physically he is reminiscent of a younger Bill Canaday, a longtime local character actor seen at Town in countless shows over the last few decades. 

Collins looks and sounds like a traditional romantic leading man (a role he often plays) but also has the right comic delivery to carry off Lawrence's wry banter as he plots despicable deeds. Dalbec-Matthews, often seen in supporting roles as temptresses, shines as leading lady and love interest.  Her entrance late in the first act is an explosion of charisma and vitality. I can't recall a time that her voice has sounded this strong, although at times she is quite soft and vulnerable.  Her character spends a good bit of time on stage running from one spot to another and occasionally taking a fall, and Dalbec-Matthews navigates it all with a dancer's style and grace. 

As with his productions last year of The Drowsy Chaperone (at Town) and Victor/Victoria (at Workshop) director Scott Blanks keeps the pace moving quickly.  Often in community theatre the stage is packed with bodies, some of whom can sing, some of whom can dance, and some are there just to share the experience.  No such problems here - the compact ensemble of only fourteen all sing, all dance, and all transition though twenty or more costume and scene changes with ease, creating various social settings with only a few couples at a time. Four or five featured female dancers (some teens, some veteran performers) perform the most complex of Christy Shealy Mills’ choreography; there's an age range spanning more than twenty years, but all convincingly appear to be beautiful, glamorous showgirls in their early 20's.  Musical Director Lou Warth has opted for recorded music rather than a live band.  The cast has no problem keeping up, even with some intricately-timed sound effects, but on the Sunday afternoon after opening, there were still a few major sound glitches with feedback and static, distorting and distracting from important exposition in the opening scene.

I had a love/hate relationship with Danny Harrington's set. A number of pieces (many seen in previous shows) including a simple door-and-walls flat  that dropped in to represent Christine's posh hotel suite, a spectacular lighting array set against a black backdrop to suggest a starry sky, and a lush painted drop depicting a detailed stone wall and a verdant garden beyond, were all quite effective.  Yet almost half the action was set against an awfully high-school-ish-looking entry/curtains/stairs/balcony construct.  I kept wishing that there had been time or resources to add some sort of painted drop behind (instead of a blank piece of fabric) in keeping with the Mediterranean setting, and so was surprised to see the final scene play out in front of exactly that, a believably detailed beach scene. Lori Stepp's costumes were appropriately chic, especially Dalbec-Matthews's stylish blue cocktail dress, although a number of the men's suits and some uniforms seemed a bit dated, rooted more in the era of Don Draper than contemporary fashion.

David Yazbek's music and lyrics are consistently peppy and will keep your toes tapping. "Great Big Stuff," Freddy's list of things he wants from the glamorous  life, is quite amusing, and "Love Is My Legs" (don't ask - it fits within the context of the show) is an expert parody of inspirational power ballads. Still, an hour later it was almost impossible for me to recall any actual tunes. 

With intermission the show runs nearly two and a half hours, and I do think three or four songs and a subplot or two could have been lost from the original without harm. Jeffrey Lane's book is full of gags both highbrow and low, and the tone is decidedly PG-13.  Which leads me back to my original point about the giant leap: while Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is pleasant and harmless escapist entertainment featuring some talented performers, I lost count, at ten, of the number of words and sexual references that I doubt have ever been heard or seen on the Town Theatre stage before. (Well, not by an audience anyway.) Nothing is any worse than a typical episode of Seinfeld or Friends, but when Freddy finds Christine's face buried in his lap (something to do with a spilled bowl of soup) or when Christine mistakes a candlestick, which Freddy stole by hiding it in his pants, for....well, you realize it's not exactly your father's Town Theatre.

Most of the cast and creative team have worked at Town before, but elsewhere too, and it's refreshing to see a name-brand Broadway show from recent years produced with relative polish and style, but also without fear of offending audiences. Case in point: the matinee audience I joined was largely older; as I left the theatre there was literally a bus from Still Hopes waiting to pick up its passengers.  Yet the audience consistently laughed at the bawdiest of jokes, and gave the cast a standing ovation.  Fresh blood and fresh shows are never a bad thing, and one hopes for continued appreciation by audiences of all ages and a successful run.