Orry
Reviewed by Lara J. Altunian
Gentleman George Productions
Through November 11
In his play, Orry, Nick Hardcastle celebrates one of Hollywood’s lesser known figures with a striking personality — three-time Oscar-winning costume designer Orry-Kelly. Mostly funny, at times melancholy, and overall full of 1920s flair, this tribute is an entertaining portrait of a person who became a vital cornerstone in filmmaking history. A few repetitive singsongy moments slow the plot down at points, but Hardcastle’s ability to keep the show going — particularly despite some significant technical difficulties witnessed the night I saw the production are a testament to his skill as a performer.
The audience is invited to Orry-Kelly’s open casket funeral at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Hollywood Hills. After a projection of the real Jack L. Warner begins to read his eulogy, Hardcastle (who wrote and stars as Orry) jumps up from his coffin, name drops a few of the well-known celebrities who attended the real Orry-Kelly’s service in 1964, and enthusiastically begins to relay his autobiography.
Born Orry George Kelly in Kiama, New South Wales, Australia, the costumier divulges his origins as the sewing-obsessed product of a critical mother beset on her English ancestry, and a rough-edged tailor father from the Isle of Man. The latter named his prized pink serrated carnation after his son, knowing early on that he was not your typical ball-kicking Aussie lad. The flamboyant Orry-Kelly moves to Sydney as a young adult and discovers a love of performing and the city’s wild nightlife. It isn’t long before an off-beat relationship with a local troublemaker and the urge to fully embrace his artistic side leads him to move to New York City. There he rubs elbows with local entertainers, becomes a bootlegger, and meets a future-famous English thespian with whom he has a tumultuous on-again, off-again affair that lasts most of the rest of his life. A successful hand-painted tie business and the stock market crash of 1929 result in his final and most important move to tinseltown where his life as a costume designer truly begins. The rest of the play is a deep dive into his time in Hollywood: the qualities that make his work famous, his many interactions with some of the Golden Age stars we know today, and the inner demons he faces throughout the ups and downs of his career.
Hardcastle’s play is based on Orry-Kelly’s real life memoire Women I’ve Undressed, which was discovered inside a pillow slip inherited by his grandniece decades after his death. The fact that it wasn’t published until after Australian documentarian Gillian Armstrong turned it into the 2015 film Women He’s Dressed frankly adds credibility to the material. Rather than a typical tell-all Hollywood book written to defame the author’s enemies, the account holds greater value as a recollection of a life mostly lived in the shadows by someone with an ironically bold personality. Orry-Kelly was known for being loud, opinionated, and at times difficult to work with, but charming and witty all the same — when sober. He knew many secrets and clearly had a lot to say about them.
Hardcastle captures this vividly in his portrayal, vibrantly singing ’20s and ’30s tunes about love and loss — an homage to Orry-Kelly’s vaudevillian history — between anecdotes to emphasize the emotional undercurrents of his stories. Some of these moments felt a bit long and redundant, but the better placed numbers, particularly the ones that came during climactic reveals in the plot, were well-punctuated by his on-stage partner titled “The Soubrette” (Danielle Heaton) in the program. She starts by greeting the audience members/mourners at the door before using simple props to transition between many supporting roles, mostly depicting comforting ghosts from Orry-Kelly’s past. Musical director Anthony Zediker’s service piano player acts as a third character in the play, setting the tone with his mood-enhancing melody, while also throwing in a few comic quips that add even more flavor to the show’s funniest segments.
The cast’s most commendable moment was their ability to power through a few major technical errors regarding the projectors. Two tall screens which flanked the casket (well-placed by scenic expert John Iacovelli) often displayed images from Orry-Kelly’s hometown and the many celebrities he met over the years. Some of these projections were late, others goofily skipped during Warner’s opening eulogy scene, and most egregiously, a large cinema screen in the back completely stopped working. Hardcastle in particular was able to glide through these moments fairly smoothly, using them as opportunities to amp the humor. The mistakes could have easily derailed the play. Instead, they made viewers focus on the performance, much how Orry-Kelly’s designs kept your eyes on the clothes and made the stars look elegant every time.
Hopefully, this limited “sneak peek” run will expand into a better-developed show in the near future. The talent and energy are there. Some fine tuning could truly make this play one you won’t want to miss.
The Lee Strasberg Theater & Film Institute, 7936 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood; Thurs.-Sat. & Mon., 8 p.m.; Sat., 5 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 6 p.m.; through Nov. 11. (310) 995-1682 or https://gentleman-george.com/. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.
