THEATER REVIEW : Angry Musical of 1937 Retains Risk, Relevance

The question begged by all revivals is that of relevance. The question begged by the revival of “The Cradle Will Rock” at the San Diego Repertory Theatre through July 23 is why modern audiences should care about a federally funded 1937 musical that was canceled by the government because it was pro-union. The play ended up being staged elsewhere without scenery or costumes by a cast determined to do its work and an audience determined to see it.

The answer is that, if risk, courage and principles are still relevant, so is this play.

Director Robert Benedetti wisely adapted Marc Blitzstein’s show to include the historical context of the action.

The play begins outside a closed Balboa Theatre bannered with signs saying the closure is the result of an order by the Works Progress Administration, which funded the building project.

For about 20 minutes, the actors, playing the actors of that time--including Will Geer, later to achieve fame on “The Waltons”; John Houseman, then managing producer of the WPA, and 22-year-old director Orson Welles--talk to the audience, sing to them and make jokes, trying to keep up their spirits while they “look” for a new theater--which turns out to be the Lyceum Stage.

They then take you into the show itself, which starts as the original did, off the actual stage. That’s the other ironic side of the union drama--the pro-union show couldn’t be put on stage at the Venice Theatre because Equity rules would not allow musicians or actors to play on a non-Equity stage.

Marc Blitzstein (Mark Danisovszky) plays the piano, and the conceit dissolves after a few scenes as the actors wend their way on stage to continue the musical.

For some, admittedly, the excitement may wane when the actual play begins. Blitzstein was no melodic genius; one clings to wisps of Kurt Weill-like discordances with hopes of greatness that never come.

But the lyrics are a different matter. Put together a line about “the same old story. . . . How many does it take to make you wise?” with “And when the wind blows the cradle will rock” and what do you have but the precursor to Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind”? From economic revolution of the union strikers to the social revolution of the 1960s, the spirit seems remarkably the same.

Blitzstein’s story weaves a Dantean circle of a hell in which groups of people who have sold out to factory owner Mr. Mister find themselves mistakenly thrown into prison with--fittingly--a prostitute.

In a variety of scenes, they flash back to their individual falls from grace: Dr. Specialist, who lies about a union organizer having been drunk so that Mr. Mister will help him get a grant; the Rev. Salvation, who preaches what Mrs. Mister likes from the pulpit because of what is donated to his church; Editor Daily, who hires Mr. Mister’s two children because Mr. Mister owns his paper; two artists who compromise their work to please Mrs. Mister, their main benefactor; a druggist who keeps his silence about an injustice to save his pharmacy, and ends up losing his son as well as his business.

Benedetti elicits fine performances from a talented and spirited cast handling a variety of parts; Fred Carama’s musical direction does the best that can be done with strong voices and a mixed bag of songs.

Drew Tombrello renders the convivial, heavy Mr. Mister with convincing force--a nice contrast to his role as the genteel Houseman. William Anton’s forthrightness as Larry Foreman is appealing enough to have stepped right out of a Frank Capra movie. Arthur Mercer-Wagner brings a well-worn quality to the role of the beaten-down druggist, as does Algene Adams to that of the prostitute.

Priscilla Allen delivers some of the funniest moments of the evening as the smug, bedecked and ever-smiling Mrs. Mister, who is always just a wee bit more knowing than she lets on. And Gale McNeeley scores two of the evening’s musical highlights when he croons “Brother, Can You Spare a Dime” as Will Geer outside the Balboa, and the lullaby-like “Honolulu.”

The set by Nick Reid straddles the challenge of dressing a stage that is not supposed to be dressed,

by making it into a street scene with brick walls and fire escapes. It may not make much sense, but it doesn’t really detract from the action, either.

John B. Forbes’ lighting does a fine job of traversing the action from audience to stage. Clare Henkel’s costumes run an evocative gamut from fine feathers to homespun-looking garb for the occasional factory worker. Bonnie Johnston’s choreography is subtle and at its best when the artists, a composer (Tom Nelis) and painter (Summer Rognlie) sidle up to Mrs. Mister, doing their little dance around her to get her money.

It is a number that also serves as a reminder as to why this particular play is a risky one for the Rep. It’s not just that the show is pro-union in a non-union town, but it takes some courage for artists, who depend on the Mr. and Mrs. Misters of the world for funding, to turn around and make fun of the ways in which dolers of largesse can corrupt the very thing they are supporting.

It is a reminder, too, that the play is not simply about issues of the day, but about standing up for what one believes in despite pressure.

The theologian William Sloane Coffin once said, “If you don’t stand for something, you’re apt to fall for anything.”

“The Cradle Will Rock” stood for something in 1937 and stands for something now. That is why, despite its flaws, it doesn’t fall from grace.

‘THE CRADLE WILL ROCK’

By Marc Blitzstein. Directed and adapted by Robert Benedetti. Musical direction by Fred Carama. Prologue musical direction by Craig Koller. Set by Nick Reid. Costumes by Clare Henkel. Lighting by John B. Forbes. Choreography by Bonnie Johnston. Stage manager is Hollie Hopson. With Mark Danisovszky, Algene Adams, Duane Daniels, Drew Tombrello, Craig Koller, Richard Wright, Gale McNeeley, Tom Nelis, Summer Rognlie, Arthur Mercer-Wagner, Priscilla Allen, Elizabeth Soukup and William Anton. Plays through July 24. Prologue begins at 7:45 p.m. Tuesday-Saturday and 6:45 p.m. Sundays with Sunday matinees at 1:45. At the Balboa Theatre with performance continuing approximately 15 minutes later at the Lyceum Stage, 79 Horton Plaza.