STAGE REVIEW : A ‘Golden’ Glow on Re-Lit Center Stage

Put away your telescopes.

In recent years, Long Beach Civic Light Opera has attracted one of the area’s biggest and most enthusiastic audiences.

But unless they were blessed with seats up front in the cavernous 3,054-seat Terrace Theater, theatergoers felt like astronomers, seeking distant stars in a remote galaxy. They also had to contend with a notoriously spotty sound system.

Meanwhile, the Terrace’s next door neighbor, the 840-seat Center Theater, sat quietly, undiscovered by “legit” theater audiences. Its only regular occupant has been the Long Beach Opera.

Glory hallelujah, the Civic Light Opera has re-lit the Center Theater at last, with a golden performance by Charles Durning in Ernest Thompson’s “On Golden Pond,” opening the organization’s new “Celebrity Play Series.”

For a few weeks, forget the “Opera” in the Civic Light Opera title. The only singing and dancing in “On Golden Pond” occurs when mother and daughter recall the lyrics and steps of a corny old summer camp song.

It’s appropriate to open with a non-musical, for the Center Theater is one of the best in Southern California for spoken drama. It was modeled after the Mark Taper Forum, but its architects corrected two of the Taper’s faults: It has much larger backstage and lobby areas (and 80 more seats).

That it has been so grievously ignored is an act of shocking civic negligence, as well as Exhibit A in the case for building a company and an audience before building a theater.

The Civic Light Opera probably wanted something safe for the debut of its new “Celebrity Play Series” in the theater, so as not to scare anyone off. Civic Light Opera audiences generally are not the most adventurous theatergoers in the world.

The only people likely to be offended by “On Golden Pond” are those who would be shocked at hearing a dirty word out of a 13-year-old. The old couple’s new step-grandson, audiences may recall, is fond of one such word in particular.

That’s not to say that “On Golden Pond” is a no-risk show. The big risk here is that audiences won’t see the point of paying for something that’s so easily accessible on videotape, something they probably saw not very long ago in one form or another.

The best answer to that is that Durning is splendid as that old codger Norman Thayer. But even that might not satisfy those who saw him in the same role at the Ahmanson Theatre in 1980.

Well, Durning is now 11 years closer to the 80-year-old Norman. And he’s now in a theater that does justice to his performance, instead of the 2,071-seat Ahmanson, which isn’t much better than the Terrace for spoken drama.

The first thing you notice about Durning is his girth. It’s such a contrast to the relatively slender frames of Henry Fonda, the best-known Norman by virtue of his performance in the movie, or Tom Aldredge, who created the role in 1978 in New York.

When this Norman talks about the difficulties of bending over, you believe him. He waddles more than walks, and we immediately understand why he’s hesitant to venture outside for strawberries or to go fishing--and why he becomes terrified when he loses his way during a brief stroll outside.

It’s hardly all pathos, however. In fact, Durning underplays the gloom inside Norman in favor of making richly ironic comedy out of Norman’s plight. On his way out the door to look for those berries, he utters a simple, “Oh . . . bye” and evokes hearty laughter. When he returns prematurely, claiming that he ran all the way, the deception is funnier than it would be in the mouth of a slimmer man.

Durning’s comic timing, impeccable throughout, is at its peak during his match-up with his future son-in-law (Steve Vinovich). And Stuart Gordon has staged this scene to perfection. After Vinovich proudly announces how “kinetic” his relationship with Norman’s daughter is, he sits down in a chair that induces a round of intense squirming--which tells the truth about what’s happening in the scene. Kinetic, indeed.

Helen Harrelson, who replaced Frances Sternhagen as Ethel Thayer on Broadway, stepped in here for Hope Lange, who injured a hand just before rehearsals began. Despite the short notice, Harrelson knows exactly what to do on this stage--or else she knows how to wing it with supreme confidence. She and Durning work together as if they were, in fact, an old married couple. But Harrelson’s role is not as fully dimensional as Durning’s.

The play itself still seems a bit forced in the second act, but the players handle it with assurance. During intermission, I moved from a center seat a few rows from the front, to a back-row seat on the right-hand side of the auditorium. I still heard every word--though I must admit that I overheard a woman nearby whispering that a few words had escaped her.

The theater’s stage thrusts so far into the hall that people on the left and right sides have radically different vistas. D Martyn Bookwalter’s charming Maine cottage set is three-dimensional enough to encourage intermission walks to both sides of the hall, to see it from all sides. Nevertheless, from my seat on the right, the sight lines remained relatively unimpaired during the second act.

It would be great to see a show here that really reaches out and grabs its audience. “On Golden Pond” glows more than grabs. But for now, that’s more than enough. “On Golden Pond,” Center Theater, Long Beach Convention and Entertainment Center, 300 E. Ocean Blvd., Long Beach, Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m., Saturday-Sunday matinees, 2 p.m. Ends June 23. $18-$25. (213) 432-7926 or (714) 740-2000. Running time: 2 hours, 35 minutes.

‘On Golden Pond’

Charles Durning: Norman Thayer, Jr.

Helen Harrelson: Ethel Thayer

Philip Astor: Charlie Martin

Caroline McWilliams: Chelsea Thayer Wayne

Jesse Sweeney: Billy Ray

Steve Vinovich: Bill Ray

By Ernest Thompson. Produced by Long Beach Civic Light Opera. Directed by Stuart Gordon. Set D Martyn Bookwalter. Lights Kim Killingsworth. Costumes Ann Bruice. Sound Jonathan Deans. Hair/Makeup Elena M. Breckinridge. Production manager Donald David Hill. Stage manager Susan Slagle.