Beauty lies under skin of ‘She Loves Me’

By CHRIS PAGE
Get Out

Don’t judge a book by its cover, right?

What about judging a stage production by its venue? The Gilbert Fine Arts Association production of the musical “She Loves Me” is being performed at the Val Vista Cultural Hall, where a basketball hoop is suspended overhead, the room’s seating consists of back-wrecking, view-obstructing folding chairs and the sound-bouncing acoustics make the microphone-
amplified musical show sound like mush from half-court.

What about judging a show by its set? This one’s a no-budget mess that’s cheesier than typical community theater fare — closer to junior high school, in fact.

Futhermore, “She Loves Me” yields only a scant few memorable tunes and fewer romantic payoffs across its slogging two hours. Surely there are enough reasons to turn most folks away from the door as the show enters its final weekend.

But if you let those initial impressions discourage you, you’ll miss out on some fine acting performances, ones that gracefully transcend their surroundings enough to wonder why the cast isn’t over at Gilbert’s professional-level Hale Centre Theatre.

(Certainly the musical’s story, set in 1930s Hungary, is outside the scope of the Hale’s Brit-Americana style, though its light comedy plot, of two perfumery employees who get on each others nerves only to discover they are romantic pen pals, is not. You might know that storyline from its latest adaptation, the 1998 Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks flick “You’ve Got Mail.”)

The Gilbert production’s foreign setting takes advantage of charming young Austrian actor Stefan Linder’s struggles with American enunciation, and as leading man Georg Nowack he’s equal parts Danny Kaye and Alan Cumming. His singing voice on the musical’s title song, amongst others, is unexpectedly stellar.

Nowack's bristling love interest is Jennifer Whiting-Toon’s Amalia Balash, whose singing voice is near-operatic in its warm gorgeousness. Though the two actors largely let Joe Masteroff’s book and Rebecca Hansen’s directing chart the course of their chemistry, their duets together (“Your Dear Friend!,” “Where’s My Shoe”) are nothing short of beautiful.

The rest of the ensemble is almost equally inspired, including Roger Prenger’s double duty as perfumery owner Maraczek and, with more unrestrained gusto, Pierre the Maitre D’, and Katie Conlin's (as Amalia’s confidante and fellow shop gal Ilona Ritter).

It’s a weird position in which to be — to simultaneously rave about a show’s cast while bemoaning its surroundings, to not care much for a musical’s book or music but be wowed by the delightful company executing it. Perhaps it helps sway your decision whether to see the show or not by mentioning tickets are only $5, and that proceeds go to the Phoenix Children’s Hospital.

As for me, I’d be willing to pay three times as much to see the same cast do the same show with snazzier sets in snazzier digs like the Hale or a high school auditorium or — I’d even be willing to drive the extra bit — the performing arts center in Queen Creek. Books may warrant deeper consideration than their dust jackets, but when it comes to musicals, sadly, packaging plays too large a role to deny.































 
 


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