The Play’s Not the Only Thing : Dinner Theaters Rely on Ever-Popular Musicals and Buffet-Style Food to Weather Tough Times

In an era that has overseen performance art, minimalist music and a near revolution in theater, one genre, the dinner theater, has retreated to a store of old chestnuts in an attempt to keep audiences.

It’s no accident that not long after “Oklahoma!” closes at the Grand Dinner Theatre in Anaheim, it will re-open at Elizabeth Howard’s Curtain Call Dinner Theatre in Tustin. And it’s no accident that all but one of Orange County’s four operating dinner theaters are currently running musicals. Apparently, that is what their audiences want to see.

But it’s also no secret that the dinner theater has run into difficult times. Production costs have become so hefty that live musicians and all-union casts have become nearly extinct.

Meanwhile, stiff competition from other diversions keeps good seats empty. “In mid-sized cities in Ohio or Wisconsin, the local dinner theaters are hot spots,” says Harlequin Dinner Playhouse resident director Lynn Seibel, a Midwesterner. “Here, there are so many other things to do.”

Making matters worse is the limited response from young people. As one theater manager puts it, “We couldn’t survive without senior citizens, and for them we have to keep the prices down.” All of this means not only less elaborate staging, but limited talent in the kitchen as well.

Still, considering what a dinner and show for two costs these days, dinner theaters remain something of a bargain. Show tickets average between $20 and $25 per person, not including drinks, desserts and gratuity. Add about $10 apiece for those, and you have a complete evening for two for under $75. Not bad for all the baked chicken, cold salads and nostalgia you can eat.

If I had to choose a place for someone who only had time for one show, it would be the Harlequin. Why? Because this is the place that I feel best captures the spirit of the genre.

The Harlequin, at 3503 S. Harbor Blvd. in Santa Ana, is a vast, plush, 450-seat auditorium that was built specifically to be a dinner theater and it richly looks the part. There is a grand entrance-way with chandeliers, a spiral staircase leading to the showroom and, best of all, private boxes (at additional charge) from which to enjoy the show.

The food is nowhere near as spectacular, but it is adequate. The normal evening includes a buffet with such dishes as chicken in tomato-basil sauce, red snapper Dijon and other upscale offerings.

For the boxes, dinners are prepared separately. There, the menu spotlights good appetizers: among them, savory mushroom caps stuffed with Italian sausage, scallops in a light puff pastry, and spinach salad flambeed at the table. Main courses, such as scampi in a butter-garlic sauce, New York steak covered with a red-wine sauce, and medallions of veal in a floury mustard sauce, needed a bit more rehearsal. Desserts were seriously miscast, especially the bizarre zuppa inglese, a cake with meringue topping and cloying apricot-brandy filling, and a grainy, commercial-tasting chocolate mousse cake.

The theater’s current production of “Annie Get Your Gun” (through July 9) is great fun, directed with suave athleticism by Seibel. It boasts first-class lighting, wonderful, vivid costumes and plenty of joie de vivre.

Tracey Williams makes a terrific, almost delicate Annie, and makes it a task to visualize someone as brassy as Ethel Merman in the role. Broadway veteran Darell Sandeen is a commanding Buffalo Bill, Joe Cardinale a wry Sitting Bull, and Joseph Hanna’s Charlie a shrewdly burlesque foil. There’s nothing serious about this one; it’s played for laughs all the way. Just like Seibel says, “family entertainment.”

The Grand Dinner Theatre, at 1 Hotel Way in Anaheim, resembles a Las Vegas show lounge. It’s a multitiered auditorium with lights shimmering on all the steps down to the stage area. Shows are presented in the half-round. Two live musicians obscured by a scrim--one on percussion, the second playing a Kurzweil synthesizer--provide a sound that might best be described as distinct.

Food is served buffet-style from the stage, more Las Vegas cloning. The dishes here are surprisingly good, probably the best I tasted at the four theaters I visited. After wading through salads like three-bean, marinated cucumber and iceberg lettuce, you come to an intelligent selection of chuck-wagon dishes: meaty short ribs, fresh-tasting creamed corn, saucy barbecued chicken, potatoes steamed with the skins still on and excellent baked beans. Just beyond, a carving section supplies good baked ham and roast beef.

Desserts are good too, such as a sumptuous Haagen-Dazs mud pie, and its opposite number, a 125-calorie chocolate mousse made by Skinny Haven. The chefs take bows like actors when the buffet line closes. The only complaint is the struggle to elbow into the buffet line. Everyone crowds in at once.

The theater’s current production of “Oklahoma!” (which closes today) is a winner, directed with folksy charm by Rob Barron. “Oklahoma!” is still considered by many to be the crown jewel of American musical theater, with book and lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II, wonderful choreography by Agnes de Mille and that seminal score by Richard Rodgers. So what if the plot lines contain a large second helping of creamed corn. The show stands up fine, thank you, after nearly five decades.

David Hess is nonchalant and engaging as Curly, even if the role does seem hopelessly nerdy once you’re on the freeway home. Rita Jonet Baretta brings controlled charm to Laurey, and some thrilling notes as well. The rest of the poised, professional cast is fine, especially Brenda Cox as Aunt Eller, and Tricia Grose as Ado Annie.

The Brobdingnag Dinner Theatre takes its name from the legendary race of giants in Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels. In reality it is the smallest theater I visited. Housed in a charmless mini-mall in Tustin (15732 Tustin Village Way, to be precise), it reminds me of an Elks Lodge in a prairie town--metal-backed chairs, drop ceiling, dreary lighting. Even the old Vaughn Monroe songs during dinner can’t drum up enough sentimentality to make up for the lack of comforts.

The meal is catered by a local company called Chiappe’s and is served family style from a steam table. Our evening’s menu: a salad with ranch dressing, peas, awful instant potatoes and a rather tasty stuffed chicken (one per person) that would have blended in nicely at a church supper. Desserts are served between acts. I made the mistake of opting for chocolate-mint cake, a dry confection with a whipped green frosting that reminded me of Gleem. My friend’s home-baked cheesecake with cherries was much better.

Theatrically, this is a low-budget operation with ticket prices to match. Don’t come expecting “Cats.” The current production of Woody Allen’s “Play It Again, Sam” (through July 30) is winsome, in spots. The real star of the evening is Allen’s writing. In the play, Humphrey Bogart (ably played by Ed Hayes, in a knockout trench coat) appears in fantasy sequences to help his pal Allen Felix (a Woody surrogate) deal with modern woman. “I never met a dame yet who didn’t understand a slap in the face, or a slug from a .45,” says Bogey sagely.

Dean Carter brings plenty of energy but not much ethnic appeal to the Felix role, written to satirize various forms of Jewish Angst . Watching his performance is like eavesdropping on Beaver Cleaver in analysis. The supporting players have their moments, particularly Connie Misen as the swinging ex-wife, Nancy. It’s a fun show, despite the instant potatoes.

You order off a menu at Elizabeth Howard’s Curtain Call Dinner Theater at 690 El Camino Real in Tustin, where a team of fresh-faced, manic servers minister to your every whim--at 78 r.p.m. It’s a lot like dining on a cruise ship, with roller-skate service that is more fun to watch than experience.

The long dining tables, covered with red cloth and adorned with cutesy little lamps, sit on various levels up from the shallow stage, which faces front and center. An equally straightforward menu offers a special three-course dinner: soup in a crock, salad with a creamy Italian dressing and a choice of entree. Appetizers, like a garlicky guacamole with slightly stale tortilla chips, or desserts, like a creamy English custard and the various chocolate pig-outs, are extra.

I ordered the prime rib ($5 additional) and loved it, a thick slab doused with a tasty natural gravy. The plate also featured a side of spanakopitta , Greek spinach pie in phyllo leaves (How did that get in there?). A perfunctory baked potato and the requisite cooked carrots came along for the ride.

A friend’s chicken Romano, a boneless breast in white sauce, wasn’t bad either. Baked ham steak and roast beef were untried alternatives.

As for the show: “The Music Man” (through Sept. 24) is a spirited production, with actors dancing, singing, and making loud entrances through the audience. For those unfamiliar, the plot concerns a small-time flimflam man who leaves his heart in a rural Iowa town, circa 1910. Richard G. Rodgers as the con man, Prof. Harold Hill, is a ringer for the young George Bush, and performs the role with bland ease. Karen Forest makes a demure Marian, the prissy librarian for whom he falls. The wonderful period costumes steal the show.