The Fantasticks

Reviewed by Mayank Keshaviah
The Pasadena Playhouse
Through October 2

RECOMMENDED

I first saw The Fantasticks as an undergrad in college and loved it immediately. It was a simple story with simple staging that revealed profound human truths. The low budget student production was not only sufficient to convey the story of two neighboring fathers who trick their children into falling in love, but perhaps even enhanced it, as the show’s style matched its content.

In the intervening years, I’ve seen The Fantasticks a few more times, in large and small spaces. The story remains timeless, and for those who have never seen it, do yourselves a favor and go. It’s a fine production. But for those who have experience with the play, and perhaps warm attachments to some previous version, this production may not add as much insight to your understanding.

The concept, by director Seema Sueko, is surely intellectually satisfying. The actors, prior to the show’s overture, open large warehouse doors at the back of the stage and enter an abandoned theater full of scaffoldings and dust. They clear piles of debris, and on this “war-torn” set, the players spin a tale of love and loss amidst the rubble. That message, made clearer by the program notes, resonates because the show premiered on 9/11, and because The Pasadena Playhouse itself was abandoned and shuttered from 1969 to 1985, and because the final show before it closed was a student production of, you guessed it, The Fantasticks.

While much of this context is thought-provoking, the visceral experience of the opening moment, without reading the program notes, is not quite as striking. Similarly, Sueko’s casting the majority of the roles with actors of color is to be applauded, given the state of diversity in the American theater (improving, but a long ways to go). At the same time, I’m not sure it made the show any more universal than previous, more monochromatic, versions. Still, as mentioned, it’s a fine production.

The leads, Ashley Park (as Luisa) and Connor Guzmán (as Matt), both showcase melodious voices, hers a lilting soprano and his a resonant baritone. Park and Guzmán feel older than the teenage lovers they portray in the first act, when Luisa and Matt are more naïve, but by the second act such disparities fade. Philip Anthony-Rodriguez, as the inimitable El Gallo, has the vocal chops for the part as well, though I missed the character’s iconic Zorro-style hat, which most productions employ. Rodriguez’s El Gallo also feels more dark and brooding throughout — perhaps a directorial choice given the theme of the production — losing some of the seductive gallantry usually characteristic of the role.

The lovers’ fathers, played by Regi Davis (as Bellomy) and Gedde Watanabe (as Hucklebee), are neighbors who have built a wall between their yards to seemingly keep their kids apart, but they are actually scheming for their offspring to get together. Rounding out the cast are Hal Linden (as Henry) and Amir Talai (as Mortimer), the players hired to pretend to kidnap Luisa, and Alyse Rockett (as The Mute). Vocally and expressively, Davis and Watanabe ably fulfill their roles, but their somewhat wooden execution of the choreography on numbers like “Plant a Radish” disappoints. Linden, however, deftly mines the humor in Henry’s wordplay and allusive jokes as the elder actor rages against the dying of the light.

As this show’s signature has always been its simplicity, the orchestra features only a piano (musical director David O) and harp (Liesl Erman), but the two instruments provide a surprisingly full sound, with David O’s nimble glissandos and jaunty rhythms undergirded by Erman’s flowing resonance.

David F. Weiner’s set is both authentically detailed as an abandoned theater, aided by Joe Huppert’s soundscape of dripping pipes, and visually evocative during the arboreal scenes created with the aid of the blues, greens, and purples of Josh Epstein’s sylvan lighting.

Sueko’s direction, in addition to the aforementioned conceptualization, is creative in staging numbers like “Round and Round,” as well as the retitled “Abduction Ballet”, which has a zany, almost Looney Tunes-style physicality that enhances its comedy.

With melodic songs and heartfelt life lessons, The Fantasticks remains a deeply resonant musical nearly 60 years after it first premiered. And in the 20 years since I first experienced it, its signature number “Try to Remember” still never fails to bring a tear to my eye. Every time.

The Pasadena Playhouse, 39 South El Molino Avenue, Pasadena; Wed.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 4 and 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through October 2. (626) 356-7529 or https://pasadenaplayhouse.org. Running time: 2 hours and 10 minutes with one 15 minute intermission.