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The Helen Hayes Theatre, New York
Epic Proportions
play by Larry Coen and David Crane
November 6, 1999
Review by Andrew Yarrows
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I was awakened from sleep this morning by a phone call, and one I didn’t even bother to answer. It did, however, force me out of bed at 11am on a Saturday, which in my book is a bad thing but, in reality, is probably good for me. While pacing about doing my exercises, the phone rang again, so I picked up. It was my brother, who was in town on a bus tour from up north with his wife and in-laws to see the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular. It’s a tad early in the season for that sort of show, I think, but what the hell. It’s not a bad thing to do on a Saturday. And, since I hadn’t seen my brother in two months plus, I was very happy.
Getting dressed in 30 minutes and having my hair set to face the day is no easy feat for me-anyone who has witnessed my bathroom behavior will agree, I’d imagine-but I was heading up to 47th street and 7th Avenue by 11:30. He’d told me to meet him inside of a pub called The Pig & Whistle, which I found easily despite never having been. It was somewhat dim inside, with a long bar to the right as you walk in and a small seating area in the rear. I spotted my brother’s party and headed back there, meeting with a wall of restaurant staff who probably thought that I was trying to walk in off the street to relieve myself in their restroom. After a second of explaining myself, I sat down and had a free meal. What can I say? I haven’t eaten out (and I’m not counting McDonald’s) for some time, and I am more than willing to take advantage when I don’t have the cash to do it myself. I at least offered to write him a check but, good sort that my brother is, he picked up the tab. Thanks Matt! The chicken pot pie was delicious!
At 1:30pm we parted ways, having wandered the streets a little in the area of Times Square (where I am currently living), and I arrived at the Helen Hayes theater for the matinee performance of Epic Proportions. Mind you, I managed, again, to save myself cash by freeloading on the good nature of others. Markypoo, forum frequenter and all-around, interesting guy, had planned on coming into town and seeing the show with me, but he'd been unable to make it and decided to let me have the tickets all to myself. Praise you, dear! After initially worrying that the theater staff would refuse to give the tickets to a stranger, I was relieved to be passed over two tickets for the mezzanine. The price on them said $0.00 and they were stamped with the word “COMP,” as Markypoo had one them in a contest some time earlier. I don’t know if that had anything to do with it or not, but one of the ushers was directed to take me up the stairs and to my seat, as if I was worthy of special service. Well, I am frankly, but usually undo attention just embarrasses me. I like to melt into crowds rather than stick out (which is hard to do with my hair, believe me-it’s in desperate need of getting cut and is slightly OTT at the moment).
On the way up the stairs, the usher said to me: “We’re a little empty up here today. There’ll only be a dozen of you… So if you would like to sit somewhere else feel free!”
I thanked her and, because I thought she felt a little ashamed to admit that the show wasn’t getting a big audience that day, I said: “That’s okay!” as if I was hoping to cheer her up and let her know that I didn’t mind. I’m always saying things like that to people. It makes me feel good to be sympathetic. I like holding doors for old ladies, paying for people even when I’m strapped for cash, and generally making a valiant effort to be chivalrous. It gives me a positive energy; try it sometime!
I then told her that I was supposed to be attending the show with another person, who couldn’t make it, but that I couldn’t get anyone else to accompany me. The usher said: “Well, you should have found someone to come with you!” I told her that the person I’d originally asked was working, and another person had tickets to something else. Even taking to the forum and newsgroups yielded nothing! Anyway, I thanked her and took my seat in the front of the mezzanine, first seat on the aisle of the first row, right side of the center portion. A great view!
Looking around, it was obvious that nobody much was going to be joining me in the mezzanine. A few people were there, but it was very quiet. The orchestra section looked filled. I felt kind of sad, seeing so few people around me. But, brushing that aside, I prepared myself to take in what I’d heard was a very fun show. Despite the lukewarm reviews, it promised to be entertaining, and I am more than willing to take that since I haven’t been getting to shows very often since moving to New York. Eating comes first, when it can!
Just prior to 2pm, a young woman holding a red rose in a protective, plastic sleeve, appeared on the aisle opposite my seat. I asked her if she was alone and she replied in the affirmative. I then offered her the seat next to me, an almost dead-on, perfect view of the stage, explaining that I had the ticket for the seat and that the person who was to have come with me would no longer be doing so. She accepted it gladly and I felt much better about having an unused ticket in my hands. And I also got to be chivalrous. Impressed, potential boyfriends may start lining up now.
Anyway, about the show... Epic Proportions is precisely the type of show I am in the mood for on a cool, sunny Fall afternoon with nothing in particular to do but savor the freedom of the weekend. It’s light, feel-good entertainment that, in a way, feels nostalgic-a throwback to an era when entertainment was more lighthearted and simple. Of course, that’s partly what the play is trying to capture, as it is set in the early 1930s on the set of a Cecile B. Demille-esque biblical film megaproduction somewhere in the Arizona desert (although here Demille is replaced by one D. W. DeWitt). It’s the time of the Great Depression, but the gilded fantasy world of Hollywood is, at least temporarily, keeping the dreariness of reality at bay.
The plot concerns a pair of brothers, one of whom is an aspiring actor and who treks to the film’s desert set in order to appear in the film as an extra and, with some luck, get discovered in the process. The other brother has followed him there, trying to convince him to return home, apparently to a life much more simple and less glamorous than a Hollywood film’s set has to offer. Before long, however, both young men are caught up in being film extras, with the initially uninterested brother getting lucky not only with the acting but also with the ladies, and the other suffering through a series of demoralizing experiences as a faceless extra in the film.
The star of the show, Kristen Chenoweth, a sweet-faced and all-around cute nymph of a lass, who recently won a Tony for her performance in this year’s revival of You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown, shines like the ray of sunshine that is her character whenever she takes her place on the stage. She plays the role of Louise Goldman, an Alaskan born girl who stumbled into her job as the head of the film’s extras while appearing, as an extra herself, in another of D.W. DeWitt’s films made in her native state. She’s all charm and sweetness, while at the same time all business and anxious to do her job well, which is far from easy. The show involves the audience in this way, by making it seem as if they are the throng of extras working on the film and addressing them as such. Most of the time, this particular aspect of the show was what drew the loudest laughs. It was definitely amusing and different, a sort of audience participation segment that stayed clear of becoming the sort of interactive experience one might find at a performance of Nunsense. I’m not certain that this was the best way to go about things, however, as it was somewhat alienating to have the audience addressed so frequently, but never actually called upon to react; voices from around the theater, either from some of the actors themselves or piped in and pre-recorded, filled in for us in that capacity. Occasionally this was very funny, but at other times I thought it would have been best to make use of the actual people in attendance somehow, rather than have them sit there and simply watch.
I won’t give too much away about the show’s plot, as it would spoil some of the fun, but let me say that the two brothers (played energetically by Alan Tudyk and Jeremy Davidson) struggle against the forces of sibling rivalry and an attraction for Chenoweth’s character, and all of it is quite amusing. As the show progresses, things become increasingly zany, almost to the point of becoming absurd by the show’s finale, but overall the show is even and satisfactory. Larry Coen and David Crane’s script runs the gamut from silly to charming, in terms of humor, and while I didn’t laugh hysterically at every scene, I felt very happy with the show and left it feeling good.
The true scene stealer in this production is Ruth Williamson, who portrays, among other roles, an aging actress on the comeback road in D. W. DeWitt’s new epic. Her old-style actress finesse, combined with a hardness from years of Hollywood ups and downs, is hilarious throughout. Both she and Chenoweth made the show, and I was glad that they found a way into almost every scene.
The sets, while relatively small and cramped because of the Haye’s limited size, have a big feel to them because of the scope of the film production being dramatized. There are towering pillars from ancient Egyptian temples, massive stone staircases from the days of the Roman Empire, and other over-the-top sets for the purpose of DeWitt’s epic. Everything has a pleasing orange and red color, with some gold thrown in to add to the sparkle. The lighting gives everything a warm glow, which adds to cuteness of things (not that they weren't cute enough already). The play’s cast is quite small, really, but good use is made of them and everyone on stage seems to be having a lot of fun with the material.
After the show I walked over to that little coffee shop under the Marriot Marquis Hotel and had a cup of raspberry/chocolate coffee. It was good, but not great... I could taste the flavoring too much. But at least it was warm. It’s getting so cold here in the afternoons now. While walking back up 45th to my place, I passed by Jeremy Davidson, who’d just gotten through playing Phil Bennet (if I have the two male leads straight...he’s the one with the dark hair) in the matinee I’d just seen. He was in plain clothes and didn’t look too amused with himself. We exchanged glances. I didn’t bother trying to get my Playbill signed, either, as I’m not one for doing that and I’m not certain he would have been in the mood to do it, from the expression on his face.
If you’d like to see Epic Proportions, I would do so quickly; it doesn’t seem to be doing very much business. It is, however, a highly pleasant play with enough laughs to be worthy of your time. And that precious Chenoweth is not to be missed!
-------Andy
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