REVIEW - L A Times

The first hint of things not perhaps entirely authentic to come was the dropping of the initials "HMS" from the program title.  Nevertheless, the Gilbert & Sullivan operetta, itself a political send-up, provided justification to allow Celebration Theatre and GMCLA to revel in the spirit of the original, with lots of jibes in all political directions.  One winced, though, when the Alzheimer-disabled but still living nonagenarian ex-President Ronald Reagan came in for particularly mean-spirited multiple attack in the form of gratuitous scorn heaped on a father and stepfather of one and perhaps two gay people.  This indulgence, at the expense of a helpless old man, dramatically undermined the humor of otherwise clever skewering of well-deserving, not so defenseless, politicos. The jokes and double-entendres created by Mark Savage’s award-winning adaptation kept the late Sunday crowd howling well into the night, and individual singing, acting, staging, costumes, timing, lighting, and music performances were polished, despite unaccustomed difficult entrances and exits occasioned by the alfresco John Anson Ford Theatre’s stage and its manifold, rough-hewn and uneven steps.  It seemed to this scribe, sitting quite near the front, that the sound enhancement was too loud, with speakers emitting an ear-splitting racket that served to diminish the singing performances. The star of the occasion, without peer, was R. Christopher Sands, who played the role of Joseph/Josephine - the Captain’s son/daughter, whose facial expressions alone sent the audience into gales of laughter with the slightest lifted eyebrow and deer-in-the-headlights left-right-left gapes (as when he/she learned that his/her intended, the too-too pretty boy faux heterosexual character, Dick Dockstrap - overplayed by Christopher Andrew Hall - was, in fact, a Republican).  But it was Mr. Sands’s vocalizations spiraling to astounding heights (for a nominal counter-tenor) that fulfilled the character and role, together with believable costuming, wigging and make-up, all of which was accomplished onstage behind a portable, folding screen.  Mr. Hall sang well and danced well, but was clearly outperformed by his nominal wannabe lover. The Captain of the Pinafore, Michael Gregory, brought at least a sense of dignity to his role of Captain Corkinit, and Debra Lane’s Bitter Butterball - a role that absolutely required a female lead - provided ample voice and bosom for Corkinit’s strangely heterosexual attentions, later to be explained by Ms. Butterball in "A Long Time Ago" when - you guessed it - she revealed that Dick Dockstrap and the good Captain had been switched at birth, and all’s well that ends well, but only after Dick changes his political affiliation ("For He Is A Li-ber-ul" bellowed the ensemble).  The Admiral was replaced on this occasion by Senator Barney Crank, underplayed - if that is possible - by David Gillam Fuller, while Deadeye Dick became Wilson Raiser’s menacing Harry Heavyset.  Both cartoon characters were beautifully played and well sung.   

The rest of the cast was thinly dressed, which allowed for ample unfettered prancing about.  The noisiest trio of all were bewigged laddies-in-waiting, who were required to negotiate the many stone steps of Ford in high heels - no mean feet, that (sorry).  Let it be said that in this case, no he/she clichés went unreferenced. The Men’s Chorus, under the reliable baton of Maestro Bruce Mayhall, sang sturdily from behind the action, expertly accompanied on this occasion by a single, amplified pianist, the talented Peter Storms.