The Graduate

Critiqued by Holly Bartges

It's only been on stage one weekend, and already controversy nibbles around its edges. The Aurora Fox opened with Terry Johnson's adaptation of The Graduate based on the novel by Charles Webb and the screenplay by Calder Willingham and Buck Henry turning Dustin Hoffman into a household name

Tracy Shaffer as Mrs. Robinson in The Graduate at the Aurora Fox.

Controversy over The Graduate? Someone has got to be kidding, and it all revolves around nudity. Mrs. Robinson should present herself in the nude to the nervous recent college graduate Benjamin Braddock. Because she doesn't, the conclusion is that the Aurora Fox copped out.

Copped out? Because the Aurora Fox doesn't flaunt nudity for the sake of nudity?

The Graduate isn't called Mrs. Robinson for a reason. It isn't about her. Desperate sensuality oozes from Tracy Shaffer's incarnation of the unhappily married woman who fearfully squirms over losing her "sex appeal". If she can seduce Benjamin, she perhaps will get a slight taste of validated affirmation.

If nudity is so "desperately" wanted, there are numerous places to go instead of the Aurora Fox. If on the other hand, one wants to experience John Ashton's direction of a sterling cast in the play called The Graduate, oozing with sensual sexuality, innocence, lost dreams, discovering what one wants, the Aurora Fox is the place to be.

The story is about Benjamin, the college grad who up until now had his courses laid out for him. Now life stretches out into the "brambled" unknown. Just exactly what is he suppose to do? Of course, a teacher, his parents encourage. "Plastics" Mr. Robinson insists.

He just wants time alone to think. Time alone is difficult to come by. A party flourishes downstairs hosted by very proud parents. There he sits on the side of his bed in a wet suit his father wants him to model for the guests.

Jack Wefso as Benjamin and Jamie Ann Romero as Elaine in The Graduate at the Aurora Fox.

Jack Wefso delightfully, deliciously brings Ben to life encrusted with humored paralyzed isolation. What college graduate in his position hasn't felt exactly the same way, especially in mid-1960 when life wasn't as placidly laid out as it had been in the 1950's? Vietnam raged. Young people stood up on their haunches and vibrantly said, "No". Civil Rights demanded, well, civil rights, whether it meant sitting at a lunch counter, taking a seat up front on a bus, or burning Watts. Gloria Steinem led the way to a women's revolution, resulting in the burning of bras instead of neighborhoods. American Folk singers came into their own, with quiet melodies and poignant lyrics (Where Have All The Flowers Gone?----). In the midst of 1964 sat Ben Braddock on his bed in a wet suit shivering from the thought of going downstairs to face family friends in celebration of his college graduation.

In a Rah Rah Rah tone of "aren't we such a happy family?" Mr. Braddock bursts into the bedroom pleading with Ben to come downstairs. Seth Rossman gives us a Mr. Braddock we all know of the One-Big-Happy-We-Have-It-All-Together-And-We-Are-So-Proud-Of-Our-Son-Family. Embarrass him, however, and his armor cracks.

Trying desperately to stand by her husband's side with a glued plastic smile with an "Oh yes, oh goodie we are oh so very happy. Ben can just go be a teacher and make us proud" is Pamela Clifton as Mrs. Braddock. Juicy, delectable, Clifton raises the bar for all Mrs. Braddock's delivering pathos and humor tied in a huge red bow around her "good wife, lonely wife, isolated wife, will-someone-please-give-me-a purpose-wife". You laugh because Clifton is very funny, and you want to cry because you know her.

Mr. Robinson bursts onto the scene with rambunctious enthusiasm. He knows. He has all of the answers. Yes, success lies in plastics. Paul Page takes Mr. Robinson for a happy scrumptious feast of well-placed words and direction. Cross him with embarrassment, however, and he can wield an ax with the power of a lumberjack. Page's transformation is enough to make you want to sit far back in your seat, and at the same time laugh. Is he grand? Oh, yes, Page is grand.

Jack Wefso as Benjamin and Paul Page as Mr. Robinson in The Graduate at the Aurora Fox.

And then there is Mrs. Robinson whose pathetic desperation over rides the happy family syndrome. If she can take advantage of this young man she has known all of her life, reveling in his inexperienced innocence, maybe some of her lost self-esteem can seep back through her cracked persona. In her stance, in her choice of words, in her blatant coyness, in her mockery, Shaffer unravels Mrs. Robinson for who she is. About as subtle as a coyote in a chicken coop, her Mrs. Robinson throws herself into Ben's uncertain world. She doesn't need to be barefaced nude to rattle Ben's equilibrium. Rattling his equilibrium is what it is all about. Tantalizing surprised curiosity is what allows seduction to work, and, oh yes, Shaffer's Mrs. Robinson succeeds.

As best friends, wouldn't it be marvelous if son and daughter could just get together, get married and produce grandbabies? How easy for the two men to set up a date between Ben and Elaine, unaware the frantic Mrs. Robinson demands Ben not see Elaine. What to do? Aha, go on the date and be a creep, take the innocent bright-eyed-bushy-tailed-isn't-life-grand girl to a strip joint, acting like a total insensitive jerk. Jamie Ann Romero in the shoes of Elaine is gorgeously adorable. When the stripper's body wraps around Elaine, practically slapping her in the face, Elaine's twisted halt to life is wondrously inspired. Romero gives her spunk, spirit, allowing her cage to be rattled in tearful sobs. Laura Lounge as the stripper is planted joyously, particularly with the other roles where her demeanor is somewhat tamer. Lounge twirls her pointed determination with hilarious amusement.

Robert Michael Sanders fills in the cracks as a Priest, Psychiatrist and a few others switching roles with the ease of Mr. Robinson wielding an ax.

In the midst of debauchment, in the midst of a horrible mistake, love smites Ben in a corner of his heart. Even against the threats of the conniving Mrs. Robinson, Ben finds legs on which to stand. He loves Elaine. He loves her with a passion he's never before known. That passion creates havoc with an upside down spiral in everyone's lives.

The cast brilliantly feeds into each other and feeds off of each other. Hilarity and pathos walk hand in hand bouncing off the walls with expertised deliberation.

It matters not how many times one has seen the 1964 movie, this production makes The Graduate its own, which is exactly what it should do.

The glorious set designed by Charles Dean Packard speaks to style, quick change, simplicity, pointing toward suggestion, as does Mrs. Robinson with her grouping creeped-out sensuality. The beautiful lighting designed by Bob Byers does for the set what Elaine does for Ben, topping off the set with rich blues, reds, and definition. Packard commented without being able to work with Byers, he wouldn't have attempted this particular set design.

Ashton's production is a masterpiece of fun frivolity, amusement, a particular time period, a college grad's predicament, and poignant thought prodding. Not to be missed because it is sheer total unadulterated fun, magically whipped into shape by a superb astonishing cast. There's more to sensuality than bare nakedness. Sensuality teases, and taunts innocent curiosity, which is after all Ben's downfall.

Controversy? Ridiculous.

Production? Magnificent.

The Graduate
Adapted for the Stage by Terry Johnson based on the novel by Charles Webb and the screenplay by Calder Willingham and Buck Henry