The Rep's Boring You Can't Take It With You
When we go to a play, we always try to keep an open mind. Even if it's not something we're particularly excited by, someone else may be totally into it, so it's important to write a review for them as well. Was the performance good? The actors, the setting? So with that in mind, here's our assessment of Seattle Rep's You Can't Take It With You (runs Tues.–Sun. until Jan. 3; tix $15–$59, $10 under 25): cool scenery, good cast, but we have no idea who'd want to see this show.
Back in 1936, when this play made its Broadway debut (where it was to run for three years), back when people still went to Broadway shows for entertainment at least as much as to the cinema, the playwrights George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart were the equivalent of the Farrelly Brothers today, which should give you some idea of why this show doesn't seem to work. Imagine how audiences would respond to There's Something About Mary in 2070—they'd probably have a few laughs at the big jokes and otherwise be confused about topical references ("Dad, who's Bret Favereau?"). Likewise, in 2008 the biggest cheer this dilapidated page of theatre history got was from an audio clip of one of FDR's fireside addresses excoriating bankers (not even part of the script!), and the only laugh lines were jokes at the expense of the income tax, which was new at the time (yes, that's how old it is).
The play follows the wacky foibles of a free-spirited family living in the home of pater-familias Martin Vanderhof (known throughout just as "Grandpa") who some 30 years prior decided he was done with the rat-race and just wanted to lay back and have fun. He has a married daughter, Penny, who writes plays, because years before a typewriter had accidentally been delivered; before that, she'd been a painter of no success (nor intentions). Her husband Paul spends his days making fireworks in the basement with Mr. DePinna, a milkman who had the misfortune of delivering milk to the house years before and just never left.
To sort of speed things up, the play's basically The Munsters meets one of those movies about a son desperately trying to save the family farm. Grandpa's never paid income taxes and the IRS wants to seize the house; meanwhile, the only normie in the household, Penny and Paul's daughter Alice, has fallen in love with a man she works with, Tony Kirby, who just happens to be the son of the company's owner, a fabulously rich, dashing young man.
The wackiness that's supposed to ensue stems from this fish-out-of-water comedy: Rich, proper folks in this sort of mad-house? Tomfoolery will surely come of this!
The cast features some reliable talent. Grandpa is played by Michael Winters, who recently did a fine turn as a wealthy romantic himself in Becky's New Car over at ACT. The ever pleasing Anne Allgood dominates the show as Penny, with R. Hamilton Wright delivering another fine comic performance as Penny's husband Paul. And the lovely Elise Karolina Hunt and the charmingly coifed Ben Hollandsworth make a charming young couple as Alice and Tony.
Unfortunately, like so many scripts of this variety that want to marry madcap comedy to sentimental intentions, the arc is a mess and the whole is a disappointment. Despite the farcical potential, Act 2, where the families meet, barely gets up to speed with the comedy; Act 3 is a bore, since this is where all the sentimental crap gets loaded; and the subplots involving the IRS and, later, the FBI all sort of go by the wayside at the end.
Finally, the ending, which we think we've made perfectly clear strikes us a silly, sentimental tripe, isn't nearly moving enough to justify the three hours you've spent in the theatre. In short, this play—which aims for everything—fails to really nail anything, whether it's romantic comedy, farce, slapstick, or saccharine sentiment. And it has nothing to do with the cast or the production; it's just a weak, poorly aged script. Why the Rep would do this play, we have no idea. Admittedly, it's one of the most produced plays in the country (because it's sufficiently inoffensive for any school or community theatre), but then again, so's The Fantasticks, and no one in their right mind wants to see that put on again. Coming on the heels of The Three Musketeers, which closed early due to lack of interest and ticket sales, we think the Rep really needs to take a look down at the smaller shows in their second season, where boom just got its run extended, and see if there aren't some lessons to be learned about the sort of shows that really generate audience excitement, 'cause this ain't it.
Photo of Elise Karolina Hunt as Alice and Ben Hollandsworth as Tony in Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman’s You Can’t Take It With You, directed by Warner Shook. By Chris Bennion.
