Joseph Planta's Commentary - thecommentary.ca

Thursday, 18 November 2004

More than just another Funny Girl

By Joseph Planta

VANCOUVER - For many, the 1968 William Wyler directed film version of Funny Girl starring Barbra Streisand, is their only familiarity with Fanny Brice. Even in 1964 when the show first hit Broadway, Fanny Brice was largely forgotten, as she had been dead a decade and more, and few of her performances were preserved on film or on records. As well, that production starring Streisand, was such a cataclysmic success catapulting her to superstardom, it was difficult for many to separate what was the channelling of Brice, and what was Streisand's schtick. That's why, as Bill Millerd told us last week, the director of the new Arts Club production at the Stanley Theatre, the show isn't as widely revived. Anyone stepping into the role of Fanny Brice would automatically garner some Streisand comparison.

Funny Girl was conceived long before Streisand came along, and producers had envisioned someone dramatic like Anne Bancroft, or someone comedic like Carol Burnett to take on the role. So thinking about that, and how the show wasn't tailor made for Streisand, I went into the Stanley last night, opening night, willing to allow Cailin Stadnyk, this production's Brice, to dazzle me and channel a fresh interpretation of the comic and tragic figure that was Fanny Brice. And did she ever.

Millerd was right when he told me last week that within minutes of seeing Cailin Stadnyk in the role, we would see something fresh in her interpretation. After a few minutes of schtick in the first act, seeing Stadnyk in blue bloomers sing, dance and act her way through the raucous and lively "I'm the Greatest Star," one could think to himself, 'Barbra who?'

Funny Girl is about a funny girl, a talented comic, who also had some misgivings and bad luck in life and love. It isn't a straight up biography of Brice, but rather a dramatisation with a heck of a lot of dancing, singing, schtick, and, my favourite, brass. You'd think there were seventy-six trombones and more in the pit, what with the sound emitted; however, there was only an astonishing five members of the orchestra, of which three had brass instruments. Though Brice is the focal point of the show, it very much seems like an ensemble effort. The "Cornet Man" number in the first act, and the "Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat" number in the second, shows off the dazzling choreography of Valerie Easton, the company's incredible singing and dancing, and the orchestra's merry music making.

Todd Talbot, who plays a would-be suitor to Brice, but ends up the reliable best pal to her, and trusted confident to Mrs. Brice (played by the delightful Ruth Nichol), is a solid star, a heck of a hoofer, and a serviceable vocalist. His adept footwork stops the show, and the chemistry between him and Nichol in the couple of numbers they perform is real and charming. Nichol, a well-known performer in town, is truly wonderful in the role of Mrs. Brice. She makes her performance look easy, which is I suppose proof that she's the pro that she is. Don Noble, in the role of Nick Arnstein, was at once suave as he was mysterious, and when called upon in dramatic tender or angry scenes was commanding. He did, surprisingly sound like the actor who played Arnstein in the original cast recording, Sydney Chaplin.

In developing the romance between Arnstein and Brice, it would have been tempting to merely thrust the love story upon the audience. In a fast-paced musical, it's hard to do develop such a romance, but it was extremely clever how the director and the performers did just that. In the first act, in a boisterous number where the entire company is on stage, singing and dancing in celebration of Brice's inclusion in the Ziegfeld Follies, Brice brings Arnstein back to old Henry Street, the lower eastside neighbourhood from whence she came. As the cast is seemingly carrying on, even from where I was sitting, doubtless from anywhere else in the theatre, you could see in Stadnyk's face, an expression that was priceless and astonishing. In her face, as she danced with Arnstein amidst the frivolity and celebration, you could see innocence, in fact loneliness. It seemed like a combination of fear as well as anxiety, that epitomised the burgeoning romance she had heretofore been afraid of, as well in a moment one could miss, she enforced that sense of mystery about the urbane mystery man in the ruffled shirt, that would go on to mean much more later on. Stadnyk in that "Henry Street" number conveyed more about Brice than anything else in the show. She portrayed in such a short and busy sequence the fragility of Brice, that mix of steely determination with a longing steeped in pathos, despite not really understanding what that longing was of.

Gambling is a well-worn metaphor throughout this show. Arnstein is a loser gambler, and Brice is too. Yes, people who think that there's no business like show business are gamblers. If a performance isn't up to par, if the blocking is mangled, or if the line reading is bad, an audience spots you out. Brice gambles on a career on stage, and she gambles on love. You'll have to watch the show to find out if she does get the guy. In the end, it doesn't matter.

Funny Girl, which runs until 09 January 2005, has a deeper meaning than the frivolity of the comic Brice, the metaphors stretched, or the stereotypes implied. There's a bit of political incorrectness amidst the first rate hoofing, but that's what makes it timeless. (You couldn't get away with singing and dancing about shooting "the Kraut where he sat-tat-tat-at" nowadays.) Though it takes place in a specific period-that before the Second World War-it takes on some greater meaning to whoever watches it.

In the first act, when Brice and Arnstein are courting, she concurs with his observation that in her quest for show business success, she's neglected to allow that 'one very special person' in her life. She breaks into the familiar song "People," and sings it recognising that she's missed out despite the plethora of attention had from those on Henry Street. Mark Steyn is perhaps the most literate and enlightened critic of musical theatre out there. He wrote of that moment in the show: "Popular art is always at its most persuasive when it illuminates a small situation and leaves us to figure out the big picture for ourselves." Steyn argues Goethe was right when he said: "A poet should address the specific and if there be anything about him he will articulate the universal." There really is something for everyone in this show.

***

Funny Girl is at the Stanley Theatre (2750 Granville, at 12th) Wednesday, 11 November 2004 to Sunday, 09 January 2004. Tickets: $28.50-$59.00, with discounts for students, seniors and groups. Box office: 604.687.1644, artsclub.com, or TicketMaster: 604.280.3311.

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