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WPCNR Phantom of the Arts. By John F. Bailey. November 5, 2004: Born Yesterday the Garson Kanin play that made Judy Holliday a star before she ran afoul of the House UnAmerican Activities Committee in the 1950s, has launched another star, Mary Jane Hansen. She is one beautiful talented reason to go and see Born Yesterday at the White Plains Performing Arts Center in its three final performances Thursday, Friday and Saturday evenings, and Sunday Matinee. Perhaps the only reason.
Paul Verral (David Bunce), Billie (Mary Jane Hansen), and Larry Brock (John Romeo) On Stage in BORN YESTERDAY. Photo, Courtesy, New York State Theatre Institute.
The play is a relic from a once and distant time when reporters had commitment, guile and pluck, when there were twelve newspapers in New York, and when message plays hit you over the head with their message. It was also a time when plays had plots.
Ms. Hansen who plays the title role of Billie Dawn is vintage Fran Dresser Queens accent but considerably easier-on-the-eyes and ears. The characters once created by Kanin were once new, but have now become clichés that are the stuff of memory, characters we saw on stage we wish we could be like. They do not write plays like this any more.
They also do not produce plays the way this one is produced any more.
The New York State Theatre Institute production of Born Yesterday, is a play in the tradition of the Ben Hecht Front Page School and Lillian Hellman’s Watch on the Rhine. It combines comedy with message and action. The laughs are uncomfortable in your seat.
The NYSTI company tries to carry off the snappy repartee the dialogue requires, but the ensemble is slow on the uptake, a little slow on “the snap,” especially in the long and tedious Act I. Sequences are not fluid or mobile and string together, sort of dangling. The entrance into the hotel room is slow to get going. You do not know who the players are and what they do.
The mixing of drinks by a flunkee (they mix a lot of drinks in this play), could serve to identify the character roles better. An example of this lack of using the stage to impart information, is that it is not until the end of the play when Eddie Brock pulls back his suit jacket, and we see his “Pistol from Bristol” in a shoulder holster that we have any idea that Eddie Brock is a goon enforcer type, instead of the drunk, hanger-on he appears to be. That shoulder holster bit could have been done in Act I.
No sparks.
The cast chemistry fails to ignite. The comedy bits in the play suffer from fifty years of political correctness, which has been accepting more and more of what used to be unacceptable in public behavior and manners. What was outrageous in 1946 would not be noticed today.
The big scene of the Senator and his wife being scrunched boorishly by Larry Brock and Billie Dawn on the hotel settee, with gauche line after impolite line, with overweight Larry bumping and flopping, putting his foot on the couch, simply does not work any more. It is not a comedy scene. It is a playwright device to demonstrate Billie’s naivete, ignorance, and Larry’s disrespect for her. Billie attempts to make conversation, answer questions and instead makes a series of very bad puns because she does not know what the senator and his wife are talking about. But Billie carries them off gamely.
An uneasiness.
The couch scene engages some laughter on the part of the audience of the most uncomfortable kind (it makes fun of Billie and Larry’s unsophistication and lack of manners). But it’s not as much fun as it should be, partly because it is somewhat out of sync in its execution by Mr. Brock who dominates the scene. The intrusions and out-of-town-hick jokes of Ms. Dawn’s are carried off gamely, but instead of being entertaining, the scene comes off as embarrassing. You feel sorry for Billie’s not realizing what she has said.
The actor who plays the Senator, and the actress who plays his wife, go through a series of contortions, where I cannot figure out exactly what they were doing, or represented. I assumed they were attempting to avoid being pushed by Mr. Brock down the couch. Way strange.
John McGuire who played the Senator, was not effective in portraying a senatorial presence, or remotely believable in his soliloquy in Act III. His performance, throughout the play was listless, seemed distracted, and lacked the pomposity that we are used to from politicians. If my career was on the line, as his is in his role, I would act a lot more upset. Again, this is a problem of miscasting. Cue the pomposity! Cue the outrage! Cue some enthusiasm!
A Lawyer’s Lawyer.
Joel Aroeste who portrays Ed Devery, Larry Brock’s lawyer, and is billed in his cast bio as being selected as “Best Actor in the Capitol Region” in 1997 by Metroland, performs a workmanlike role as a lawyer-fixer type. He delivers emotionally and appropriately at the action stage of the play (Act III). He also has some good lines, I especially liked the line about Billie’s role in Larry Brock’s company, saying she fills the role of “Multiple Corporate Officer.” But, any lawyer who drinks as much as he does, well he could not do a Draft Environmental Impact Statement ( there are a lot of stops by the rolling bar). He rises to the occasion in Act III by delivering urgency to his role, which both he and Mr. Romeo maintain.
The Plot.
Mary Jane Hansen plays Billie Dawn, who is the centerpiece of the show, an uneducated chorus girl mistress of trash king Larry Brock (John Romeo), who accompanies him to Washington, D.C. Brock is in the capitol to corner the market on scrap iron after World War II, through a friendly (bought) congressman. (The parallel to the Halliburton rebuilding of Iraq is not lost.)
They come to an old-fashioned Washington hotel, reminiscent of The Shoreham, once the city’s finest hotel. A place with large living areas a duplex arrangement, that goes for $235 a day.
Brock meets a reporter for The New Republic, Paul Verral (David Bunce), who has gained entrée to Brock through Brock’s legal counsel, Ed Devery (Joel Aroeste). Verrall as the part is written has one flash of reporter repartee and then that is it, however Bunce, a 22-year veteran of the NYSTI theatre troop is miscast as a reporter-type.
He has no tough guy edge (Humphrey Bogart was going to play the movie version of his role), he does not wear a fedora (the style of the time), and he lives at the hotel, a playwright contrivance that is totally unbelievable, considering what reporters made then and still make.
Now perhaps New Republic Reporters were polite meek intellectual types as Mr. Bunce portrays Paul Verrall, but when Bunce stands up to Brock towards the end of the play he does not come off as a credible threat. He simply does not work in the part.
Consequently, the romance does not work either, though Ms. Hansen gives it her best shot to establish chemistry with Mr. Verrall, whose hands do not noticeably tighten around Ms. Hansen’s creamy shoulders or willowy waist, or statuesque back in the clinches. Hey, a little passion, please? This is a beautiful broad, here!
Ms. Hansen deserves that. Mr. Bunce fails the lust test. Bunce is stuck with Kanin’s script but you need an actor with some male testosterone in the Verrall part. His high-pitched voice, his clipped meek delivery, do not match up well when he questions Brock or trades threats with Brock.
In fact, in the questioning sequence, an old reporter technique of questioning gets lost because Bunce’s voice is overridden by Brock’s.
The Curse of the Reporatory Company.
The William Holden casting in the movie of Born Yesterday (Holden had a deeper more tonal voice) opposite Judy Holiday in the movie is an example of what I mean. But that is the curse of the reporatory company, you may have enough horses on board to win the Derby and the Preakness, but you do not always have the right horse in your stable to run the Belmont when the Belmont comes up. You have to select your stallion from actors in your company.
Sometimes the theatre repretory company goes outside to cast certain parts, I’ve been told by their director. They should have in this show. Another problem that surfaces in repretory is the same actors playing different parts on stock shows. The thrill appears to be gone. Sadly that is what appears to be happening in Born Yesterday.
You have this great actress playing a role to the hilt with players that are not putting in the same amount of effort as she is.
The Miscasting.
Bunce tries valiantly in this part, but he is what he is. He’s the hero and he does not look like one, and that’s miscasting and shatters the believability of the romance.
And there’s a lot of woman to romance.
In looks, Mary Jane Hansen is reminiscent of Jean Harlow and Carole Lombard and far more beautiful than Judy Holiday ever was.
Ms. Hansen, recreates the classic glamour look of the 40s, from slinky evening gowns, to peignoirs, to lounging pajamas (fashion staples of the 40s), playing the stylized Billie Dawn as both credible sex toy with a lusty nature to match, plus a woman whose brain and pride is awakening, with a lot of little girl in her, and a heart of gold. It’s a damn hard role.
She has the Queens accent down, brings off most of her lines so you can hear and get the jokes, delivers great use of new vocabulary in Act III in an endearing, “you go girl” kind of way, and steals the show. But, damn, the other actors have to interact better.
A Glamour Role.
Ms. Hansen’s role of the good girl gone bad is an old Hollywood-Broadway staple of 50 years ago: Gloria Swanson as Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard, who actually played opposite the aforementioned “hunky” William Holden, and Marlene Dietrich as Frenchie the saloon singer in Destry Rides Again, are examples. It is In the second act the audience begins to feel the sorrow that the Billie character generates, and they begin to care about the character.
.
Act I nearly dies during the antiquated gin rummy scene, in which Billie and Larry Brock play a card game. Unless you understand gin rummy, the scene does not work at all, though Ms. Hansen generates laughs by her childish delight in running up her winnings against Mr. Brock.
The Director should have cut that gin rummy scene because it goes on too long. I mean you cannot wait for it to end, because their appeared to be no point to it – except perhaps for the playwright to point out that Billie is really not as hard as she makes out to be.
At the conclusion of Act I, Brock decides after Billie’s remarks to his Senator-friend that he needs to educate her, recalls the reporter and hires him to develop Billie’s social skills.
A Great Act II
When Act II, opens this Pygmalion relationship has been going on for two months, and Billie Dawn shows to be an avid student. It is at this juncture, that Ms. Hansen saves this production of the play. Her story about her father which she relates to Paul is an impressive, believable piece of acting and really reaches the audience, and brings a tear to the eye.
She balances the laugh lines that show her lack of education, revealing the basic intelligence that was never developed in Billie when she was younger. Her ability to deliver punchline humor feeds the audience’s feeling that something really good is going on for Billie in this relationship with Verrall.
These are good moments for Ms. Hansen and Mr. Bunce because the way they interact, despite the voltage outage (lack of chemistry), the writing of the scene connects with the audience’s heart. The way Bunce plays Verral to Billie is like Bing Crosby playing the Priest in Going My Way.
Ms. Hansen’s remarkable soliloquies, reminisces, and gradually awakening of caring for Mr. Verrall and what he is doing for her reach out and touch the audience. She has enough humanity for both of them. Bunce is a veteran actor of some 21 years with the company, and obviously knows what he is doing but he is what he is. The way he plays Verrall, he almost seems reluctant to love her. And that is not the way, in my opinion the reporter part should be played.
Mr. Slime.
As Act II develops, the audience does not know how to deal with Larry Brock, the trash king, who is played by John Romeo. The audience wants to laugh at him, but Romeo plays him ugly, a cross between Tony Soprano and Jackie Gleason. The standard tough guy dialogue of the 40s, “I am what I am,” “I get what I want,” showcases his capacity for bullying.
Mr. Romeo a swarmy character.
Those quibbles aside, Romeo’s Larry Brock is a good one, but he plays it a little too overweight. Remember, Broderick Crawford played this part in the movie, a heavyset man, but not an overweight man. Romeo’s Brock generates a lot of distaste in the audience for him, a little too much distaste. The cross between Tony Soprano and Jackie Gleason does not work for this observer. The Gleason loudmouth moments are reminiscent of Ralph Cramden and Reginald Van Gleason the III skits, which overdo the comedy aspect of the bully.
The problem with Romeo in the part is like Mr. Bunce’s – the sexual attraction that he has for Billie, other than money, over nine years, is inexplicable. One would think she would have traded up by now. If it was 2004, she would.
You have to have a slightly more attractive man in that part. Again, the miscasting problem caused by repetory theater surfaces. Would Garison Kanin have liked these two actors in the male leads? You have to ask that question.
A Loaded Play With Hollow Laughs.
This is not a comedy, and the laughs are not the point of the play. Every laugh you have at this play rings hollow with sadness It is a style of play that works on many levels, the viewer’s sense of right and wrong, the viewer’s sense of what might have been is aroused, the viewer’s hope that they can make things better is rekindled. You walk out wanting to be a better person. Most plays these days do not do that for you. You have to get used to feeling that way watching Born Yesterday.
Ms. Hansen brings that out all by herself with her acting performance. If one actor can save a production, Ms. Hansen is that actress in Born Yesterday.
Be warned there are a lot of sentimentalities about being honest and fighting for the truths in Act III. “Since when does Government not tell the people what to do, When the people decide they will tell the government what to do,” (or something like that), “Here’s to the honest people out there, who make life rough on us Sons of Bitches,”
But, it felt good to hear lines like that again.
Technical Quibbles
The bullying culminates in an act of violence against Billie that does not come off. Instead of hearing the shock of a “slap,” Romeo fakes it. The audience does not hear the distinct sound of a slap. That’s a directing mistake. A slap has to be delivered so it is audible, otherwise it does not work for the audience.
Prop companies can be hired to create the sound of the slap off-stage, using sound equipment that creates the slap sound exactly as if the smack came from the stage area where it is delivered and that is how it is usually done. In Born Yesterday, you did not hear the slap.
Seeing Billie walk about without a redmark on her face does not work. The shock of the slap, (something that Brock has obviously done often to Billie in the past) is the second turning point of the play. I had trouble with this. The illusion of the play was shattered.
The fight scene in Act III comes off slightly better because we see the fire in Larry Brock’s eyes as he attacks, but the fight breaks off far too quickly to be believable. You find it hard to believe that Mr. Brock would break off the fight as quickly. The Fort Hill Players have staged better, more believable fight scenes.
A Great Set
Just as in their production of All Under Heaven, another traveling production, WPPAC’s stage was well dressed with an excellent, appropriately Shoreham Hotel-like stage in hues of gray. The lighting was minimalist at best, and used as a curtain
Time to Move On.
Ms. Hansen, who is about 24 years old was playing in the most difficult venue a road company can play in, before less than 100 persons, mostly senior citizens, who all arrived at about curtain time in a house that was three quarters empty. She delivered and made her character connect with the audience every moment.
Ms. Hansen was the true professional, while her companion actors in the listless Act I (who had their Tuesday night performance cancelled due to Election Night, according to persons in line), appeared to be going through the motions, and seemed to not be executing fast enough. When Ms. Hansen came to the stage, the atmosphere changed, prodding the other horses on the stage to run a good race.
Ms. Hansen brought out the best in her companions, by force of will, building the play to its drawn out third act. She never quit a line, never stopped acting, She went on with the show. She was almost too good for the rest of the cast.
Actresses like Ms. Hansen are what being a star or wanting to be a star is all about.
It is time for Ms. Hansen to move out of Albany and bring her talents to greater things. The kid can act. You can do it, kid. There are not too many women who can light up a stage. She is one of them.
As Joe Dimaggio said, when asked why he always played so hard, said, “Because someone might be seeing me play for the first time,” or was it, “Because someone might be seeing me who had never seen me play before.” Either line is good.
Ms. Hansen acts hard.
