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Moonlight and a "Sip of Coffee for Tired Hearts"
Special to the Daily Mail
I made the mistake of reading the "Moonlight and Valentino" movie reviews before going to watch the stage version, written by Ellen Simon (yes, Neil Simon's daughter) now playing on the stage at the Fox Playhouse, 110 S. Main, Nevada.
Don't google the reviews. The movie was unloved despite its high-hitting cast, and Roger Ebert even said that he "felt trapped in an advice column from one of the women's magazines."
So, that's Ebert -- perhaps not the best one to evaluate the interactions and relationships of four women.
I don't know about the movie, but the stage play -- a comedy despite its serious subject matter -- is sincere and thought provoking.
The theme of finding the "flavor" of life in its "essence" and daring to think, feel, and grow through loss, failure, and disappointment is universal, and the comic lines are clever.
The cast is very good together; they play their lines off each other well enough to create one of the best chemistries on stage I've seen in community theater in a very long time.
The play opens as Rebecca Trager Lott (played by Jenna Weston), an English professor at an unnamed New York City college, returns home with her friend Sylvie Morrow (Stephanie Mossbrucker) after having just learned that her husband, out for a jog, has been hit by a car and killed.
Rebecca's sister, Lucy Trager (Jane Ann Hancock), soon arrives, followed by Alberta Russell, the evil-ex-stepmother (Kim Bessey). Much to Lucy's chagrin, Alberta marches in larger in life with her dayplanner open announcing she's come to "fix everything," to which Lucy responds, "She gives me hives. I've got hives!"
Act I's three scenes all occur the day of the accident, and we are introduced not just to the subject of grief, but to the vulnerabilities and issues of all the characters.
Rebecca is suddenly a widow, a 30-year-old version of an "85-year-old Georgia O'Keefe without the genius." Sylvie's marriage is failing; Lucy, a non-traditional college student, can't seem to find a direction for her life but resents Alberta for moving into her mother's place after her death and then moving out again when she divorces Lucy and Rebecca's father.
Alberta knows how to deal with details, like funeral arrangements, home décor, and house painting, but she knows little about true human connection -- at least until Act II.
Act II occurs five days later, post funeral, and its three scenes also occur the same day. Rebecca is struggling with allowing herself to feel her loss, and at her insistence, the group slips into a non-ending cycle of games: Trivial Pursuit, Twister, and finally a word game that brings the story to its climax.
Intervening in the characters' growth process is a painter (Zach Shepherd) hired by Alberta to paint Lucy's house. The painter speaks no English, but has the body of an Adonis or Fabio. His shirtless visage through their window and his failure to understand English allow the women to riff on what they would really like to have in a man: "I'd rather imagine a man than know him for sure," Alberta quips. Lucy prefers a man on a Harley, and Sylvie has a more sensual fantasy.
Naming him Valentino, the women imbue him with their fantasies, and in doing so begin to articulate the truth in the issues they face.
Now, a word about Valentino. Shepherd is well suited to the role he plays. He never utters a word and doesn't need to. In fact, he might break his spell if he did speak. In speech, we talk about using one's body as a visual aid, and Shepherd is nothing if not a visual aid.
Clearly moved by Valentino's presence is Alberta, a middle-aged woman who has been unsuccessful romantically and has failed in her attempts to mother Lucy. If Alberta did not know her failings, she could be as oppressive as Lucy claims -- "powerful like a freight train." Her earnestness in trying to be present for Rebecca comes through despite her annoying focus on chintz pillows, bedspreads, funeral arrangements, and house painting.
Bessey creates a balance between powerful and vulnerable. In Act I as she's taking charge and zinging Lucy, she's also revealing her character's depth and good heart. "We are who we are, irrespective of the company we keep," she reveals; thus, when her moment of truth arrives in Act II, she is believable.
I've seen and enjoyed Bessey in other roles on this stage, but I think this character is the one I like the best. Alberta is more nuanced than some others, and Bessey proves she has the chops to play her.
Sylvie's character is the "straight man." She's clearly a true friend, but she's also extending her stay at Lucy's because her husband is leaving her and heading for South America.
Despite their three children or maybe because of them, Sylvie believes she has nothing new to offer and that her husband has tired of her. Mossbrucker keeps the temperature from getting too high between the other characters while creating sympathy for the unnerving situation her character is experiencing. Mossbrucker has great timing and really hits her stride in Act II while trying to come up with a plan to save her marriage.
My favorite character is Lucy. She's the comic relief -- the goofy, chain-smoking, na*ve, and lost sister who can promise to stay a year with Rebecca because she has no life to speak of. Admittedly, Simon wrote some good lines for Lucy, but Hancock makes the most of them. She is especially funny when resorting to the recitation of Humphrey Bogart movies when Alberta is getting the best of her: "'The Maltese Falcon,' 'Casablanca,' 'The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.'"
Hancock declaims the list with all the concentration and focus of a third grader trying to run multiplication tables. The Bogart movie list is a motif that runs throughout the play, and Hancock knows how to make the repetition work for good comic effect.
The stage, though, clearly belongs to Weston. In much of Act I, Rebecca is trying to sleep, and the action, while about her, revolves around the dialogue of the other three as they enjoy their "last sip of coffee for tired hearts." Act II, however, belongs to Weston, and the range of emotion she conveys is very impressive. Her cast note says that she completed an associate of arts degree in theater at Crowder College and that it's been 10 years since she's been on the CCPA stage. Let's hope that she returns to this stage soon and often.
Weston has talent, and this performance holds together because of her. The role is challenging. A weak Rebecca could sink the climax and make Ebert's movie review believable, but Weston is up for the challenge. Watching her "bring the moment to its crisis" as Prufrock says, was delightful.
All said, this play is one that speaks to a wide audience. Don't go thinking it's escapist fluff. It isn't. It is, though, more than "chick flick" and sisterhood building. It's not a tearjerker like "Terms of Endearment," although a poor director could try and make it one. Fortunately, Director Lynda Jones has avoided that pitfall. "Moonlight and Valentino" is her first attempt at directing a play, and while she graciously gives credit to all who helped develop her artistic vision for this vehicle, she has done well in downplaying maudlin sentimentality and highlighting larger themes.
Aristotle said that the meaning of theater is pleasure -- the pleasure that comes from learning something about ourselves, and in that regard, this play is a winner. The cast is superlative, and the dynamic they create on stage is one I truly enjoyed watching.
The play is sponsored by Dr. Sean and Erika Gravely and opened Friday night. Performances are Friday and Saturday nights, Oct. 3, 4, 10, and 11, at 8 p.m., and Sunday, Oct. 5 and 12, at 2 p.m. Tickets may be purchased at the door.
The cast has been rehearsing since mid-August, and their hard work is our gain. "The play's the thing." Don't read the movie reviews; just go to the Fox and experience the pleasure of live theater.