Cabot-aray

ALTHOUGH FISH-NET STOCKINGED Kit Kat Klub Girls flirtatiously slink into the audience early on the Cabot House Production of Cabaret never completely ensnares us. The play offers views of both a presumably typical Berlin music-hall in the early 1930s and the particular strains on relationships at the time, but occasional unevenness and sluggishness in performances and direction too often dispel strong promises for both lasciviousness and poignancy. Unfortunately, even several strong performances and specific scenes cannot carry this tale of decadent. Nazi-ascendent Berlin.

One of the evening's few original touches comes before the play begins: an all-male band, and a well-rehearsed and spirited band it is, makes its entrance lovely attired in semi-elegant dresses of the era. As the Master of Ceremonies (Mark Meredith), with great mocking ostentation, proclaims in his welcome. "Everything is beautiful...the girls are beautiful even the orchestra is beautiful." Indeed, this sarcasm unveils one of the major themes of Cabaret--ugliness, the ugliness of Nazism. In the production, we are shown how those with a direct view of the movement could be blinded to for could wish a ignore) the growing stength, evil and danger of Hitler and his followers.

The stage is split by the audience which is seated at nightclub tables, a nice touch along with the intimate lighting. On one side of Cabot's dining room stands the bate setting of Cliff's room (which is soon shared by Sally) and his landlady's chambers, the dancing girls and the menacing demeanor of the Master of Ceremonies face opposite. But what occurs on this stage tails to reach its full potential because the song and dance numbers are, with some redeeming exceptions, ordinary. The pleasing, while not terribly strenuous, choreography is simply not performed with a consistent amount of verve of procision. While the kicks in the briefs can-can line are neither high nor in union, the chorus girls project for more life, grace and sex appeal in the sport aneous dancing at a party lates in the dramatic action.

The singing on the other hand, does do adequate justice to the fine match of John Kander's score and Fred Ebb's lyrics. Master of Ceremonies Mark Meredith plays a convincing Satan-like figure, and he is suitably disconcerting as he belts out a mighty anthem to "The Fatherland." His two bizarre, but rather lightweight, numbers. "Two Ladies" and "If They Could See What I See" are enacted with commendable energy. His "Money, Money", done with one of the Kit Kat Klub Girls, is strong, but lacks the vitality of Joel Grey's exquisite film rendition.

ONE TRULY COMMANDING presence here, though, is Belle Linda Halperb. As Sally, Halpern makes her numbers--"Don't Tell Mama" and "Cabaret" the two show-stoppers of the evening. Her powerful, rich voice, enravishing and assured stage presence, and uncommon beauty, stand out so much in this production that Cliff's denigration of Sally's talent seems quite odd. For all her escapism and childishness, he should acknowledge her powers of performance. And Halpern sensitively draws forth the unsettled and quite neurotic aspects of Sally all throughout the show. While we cannot be made to admire Sally or pass over her lack of vision and strength, Halpern captures an essential sweetness and allurement. Halpern's Sally and Hummel's Cliff manage to sustain the convincingly potent magnetism of their first meeting. But even so, some plot turns, like their decision to get married, seem to come too suddenly. When Cliff realizes that he has been "sleepwalking" as the Nazis rise and must now wake up. Hummel communicates a freshness and intelligence. Cliff's refusals, though, to cooperate with or tolerate the Nazis are far from the heroics they are nobly built up to be.

Portraying the elderly landlady Fraulein Schneider and her suitor Herrr Schultz, Doretta Massardo and Michael Waxenburg, respectively, supply a good deal of low-keyed comedic charm. Occasionally just a mite too quaint, their courtship is spurred on by their mutual admiration of fruits. While Fraulein Schneider is greatly pleased with the apples and peaches, the pineapple proves quite overwhelming--such a gift"...it is not proper...it makes me blush." He insists "If I could, I would fill your entire room with pineapples!" Thus, they launch into "The Pineapple Song," a romantic anthem. While Massardo possesses an able voice, her transitions to her own numbers seem highly unnatural. Waxenburg has greater ease--his "Meeskite" receives a charming delivery.

Cliff Bradshaw (Chad Hummel), a young American author in search of a subject, is the show's male protagonist. Paris and Venice fail to inspire him so he makes his way to Berlin, a city rich with parties and nightlife. There, he is naively introduced to the subculture of the Kit Kat Klub by a pleasant-seeming young German smuggler, Ernst Ludwig (David Kirach). Calmly watching the stageshow. Cliff is masterfully seduced by its star-performer Sally Bowles (Belle Linda Halpern). And while the first act only hints at the rising Nazi power, focusing on Cliff and Sally's ensuing love affair, the second reveals the unavoidable reality of the times. For every scene of usually low-keyed dramatic action, there follows a glitzy of bizarre song and dance number, revealing the underlying contradictions and madness here. But these transitions, while often dramatically useful and effective, are too frequently awkward with longer-than-comfortable pauses. The audience loses some of the momentum of the story as it waits for a costume change.

There are few startling insights or discoveries in Cabaret. Rather, lines like "Governments come, governments go" and "It will pass, I'm sure" have a surely straightforward, but nevertheless affecting, ironic power. What could have set the production apart is a far more distinctive portrait of the music hall as contrast and backdrop to the (here, well-represented) complex ties of the era.

Despite solid performances--and Halpern's bewitchery--the overall production suffers from a languor that is too palpable to capture effectively even the extreme decadence of Hitler-ascendant Berlin. The band makes more bearable the probably unavoidable but still awkward pauses between scenes with quite rousing renditions of music hall and dixieland-flavored tunes. And while Kevin Jennings' direction is clearly competant and clear, a freshness and originality is missing. The direction is not highly memorable, visually striking or evocative because, for one thing, Jennings relies too heavily on the stark symbol of the swastika to shock and draw forth all of our powerful emotions and connections. It is not enough.

As intended, the audience leaves the dining room quite assured that life is, indeed, not a cabaret. But the audience can also hope that life will not turn out to be like this production--holding some vivid performances and scenes but, in the end, lacking a general enthusiasm and drive.