Perhaps too ‘Far from Heaven’

As Cathleen Whitaker (Jennifer Ellis) and Raymond Deagan (Maurice Parent) separate for what is imagined to be the final time on a train station platform in Hartford, CT, the first ray of of the musical’s potential presents itself. It is just a shame that it took until the last note to materialize.

SpeakEasy Stage Company’s “Far from Heaven,” running from Sept. 12 to Oct. 11, tells the tale of a seemingly perfect suburban family in 1950s America. The story centers on the Whitaker family, which outwardly has everything that a person could ask for. The façade starts to crumble when the Whitakers’ African-American gardener, Raymond Deagan, shows Cathleen the superficiality of their existence. In turn, this leads to a series of shocking realizations for Cathleen about the meaning of her life.

The production, based on Todd Haynes’s movie of the same title, poses questions that do not have very comforting answers—if they have answers at all. Stage director Scott Edmiston asks us whether we are all truly on our own, forced to seek fleeting moments of freedom and clarity. In an attempt to answer such questions, Edmiston creates an intricate retelling of mid-century suburbia. In a world full of sexism, racism, and crystal-clear gender roles, “Far from Heaven” urges us to look deeper. At its core, the production has a very important story to tell concerning the ease with which a person can lose their identity within societal expectations. Unfortunately—despite the musical’s few technical strengths and evocative acting at some points—“Far from Heaven” loses its message amidst a presentation that is at once clichéd and painfully sentimental.

Much of this play rests solely on the petite shoulders of Ellis, who carries the role of sheltered housewife Cathleen Whitaker with varying levels of success. In many ways, Ellis does bring forth a great performance. She succeeds in portraying a woman who really has no idea how to cope with problems outside of her comfortable bubble. Even at the utterance of the smallest criticism or vulgar word, Ellis becomes visibly rattled to show Cathleen’s discomfort. In that respect, Ellis does a very good job of bringing forth the many subtleties of this delicate ecosystem that she resides within. As Ellis’s voice falters during times of tribulation, the audience can audibly perceive Cathleen’s existential existence.

The role limits Ellis’s performance when it forces Ellis to evoke nothing more than a cookie-cutter homemaker. It is unfortunate that Ellis does not push the constraints of this narrow role; at times her performance feels like a hollow shell of what it could be. During a litany of scenes in the second act when Cathleen begins to fundamentally question who she is, the actress sometimes presents a performance that feels void of emotional depth. Ellis is far too mechanical for a story that asks such fundamentally essential questions.

Continuing the trend of being too simple to a fault, Scott Frankel’s and Michael Korie’s score sometimes feels almost manipulative in the way that it tries to evoke specific emotions throughout the show. Many tunes and lyrics are rather bland and forgettable. With his direction, Edmiston fails to improve upon the rather unsophisticated score that he was given to work with. However, there are gems within the score that truly standout. The haunting dread that persistently emanates during the song “The Only One” is truly exceptional. Ellis’s voice, which at times is barely above a whisper, is truly spine-tingling.

Similarly, the heavy-handed and simple lighting is a tool gone awry. During troubling scenes, the stage is bathed in rich, blue light. When Cathy is wearing a red dress, the lights are red. The lighting in many ways distract from the story, as it feels like the viewer is being constantly reminded of the fact that he or she is supposed to feel sad during a scene where the sky is dark blue—unnecessary reminders in a musical already laden with thematic complexity.

One of the saving graces of the production, though, is the cleverly constructed set, which contributes to the underlying message of the musical. The space uses various empty picture frames, windows, and doorways to represent the pervasive oppression of 1950s society. The empty picture frames illuminate the hollow nature of the culture that Whitaker inhabits. Just as the set is restricted by the constraints of windows and picture frames, so is Cathleen Whitaker curbed by the world of white suburbia. Cathleen is locked within predetermined expectations. No longer is Cathleen an individual—seemingly shackled to the expectations of what it is to be a housewife, Cathleen begins to lose her identity.

In the end, all that is left of the product is something that is eerily reminiscent of a made-for-TV Hallmark Channel movie. The creative team does earnestly attempt to avoid the pitfalls that the musical naturally elicits. Unfortunately, the performance eventually regresses to the melodramatic tune that dominates the musical, which undermines the real message of the musical.