TLT's 'The Fantasticks' is fantastic

By: Kati Schardl

Democrat Staff Writer

"The Fantasticks" is such a delicious theatrical anomaly. It's a musical devoid of anything even faintly resembling a big production number. It is a love story tempered by cynicism and a fantasy grounded in life's stern realities. It's both a shimmering, dreamlike cloud and a towering thunderhead.

The charm of such dramatic dichotomy is part of what made "The Fantasticks" the longest running show of any kind in the U.S. What made it the longest running musical in the world is the melodic perfection of Harvey Schmidt's music and the poetic agility of Tom Jones' (no, not the sexy Welsh singer) lyrics.

The show would shine like a diamond in the theatrical canon solely for the glorious simplicity of its signature song "Try to Remember." It's a near-flawless creation, the jewel in "The Fantasticks" diadem. But it's surrounded by sparkling gems such as "Much More," "Metaphor," "Soon It's Gonna Rain" and "They Were You." The latter is the near-equal of "Try to Remember," which opens the show, and is a powerful bookend, coming near the end of the second act.

Tallahassee Little Theatre opened its season this week with a nuanced, moving production of "The Fantasticks" that hit all the marks and then some at Wednesday's preview performance. Matt McCormick's simple set design, Katie Redd's subtle lighting and the minimalist orchestra — piano, percussion and harp — helmed by June Dollar gave director Lisa Mitchell's actors all the threads they needed to weave the web of their craft.

Mitchell cast with an eye for winning stage presence and an ear for voices that would serve the music well. Sam Higdon as El Gallo, Ashley Townsend as Luisa, Jake Armstrong as her swain Matt, Shawn McCauley as Matt's father and Patrick Campbell as Luisa's dad all have voices equally capable of scaling the heights with authority and dialing it back to reveal the heart of each song. It's a delicate job, and each singer handled it with delicacy, robust humor and near-empathic timing. Townsend and Armstrong, in particular, used exquisite restraint in their duets, giving the songs the gossamer glimmer of starry-eyed love.

The swooning rosy, romance of Luisa and Matt's love story has its thorns, of course, and they are what give "The Fantasticks" its anchor and its edge. El Gallo is both the dashing bandit of Luisa's overwrought girlish imagination and the cold voice of reason, and Higdon's portrayal contained all the dark mystery and wry humor embodied in the complicated character (Jerry Orbach originated the role in the 1960 off-Broadway production).

With heartache, tears and passion, of course, there should be laughter to leaven the drama. It's supplied by one of the most beloved — and charming — elements of "The Fantasticks" — the duo of The Actor (aka Henry) and The Man Who Dies (who also answers to Mortimer). They act as both Greek chorus and comic relief, and portraying them requires as much of a deft touch as any of the main roles.

Duncan Hoehn, with his plummy but muddled declamations, grand gestures and lust for the spotlight, was a stitch as the aging but still game Actor. Martin Peacock was a sunny, simple and sweet foil as Mortimer, so much so that it was hard to recall him as the tormented Renfield in TLT's 2007 production of "Dracula" (he also gave a good account of himself as Benjamin Braddock in the February production of "The Graduate" at TLT).

There's one more very important character in this milieu — The Wall, or The Mute, who acts as assistant to El Gallo and silent witness to all that unfolds. If walls could talk they probably wouldn't be nearly as eloquent as Colin Wulff's gestures and expressions. Wulff is possibly the most expressive confetti-tosser this reviewer has ever seen on stage, imbuing the act with poignancy, celebratory verve or somber reverence as called for by the circumstances.

TLT has added a third weekend to its usual two-week run for this production of "The Fantasticks." That's a good thing. Take your sweetie. Hold hands. Sigh and surrender to the magic.

And pack a hankie. You'll need it if you allow your heart to be stirred by this profound yet humble play. It's as tender and fresh as an autumn breeze, with just a touch of winter's steely frost.