The Music Man

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

The Music Man plays the Music Man.

Brian Norber and Teresa Cope play Harold and Marion in the Boulder’s Dinner Theatre production of The Music Man. Photo by John Scott Clough

Made of choreographed rubber, a heart-filled with music, and a dancing soul, Brian Norber of Boulder’s Dinner Theatre is Harold Hill for the current production running through August 16, 2006. Norber was born for this role, and shines with a grin, and a smile.

Of course, River City believes him and believes in him. It doesn’t matter Hill doesn’t know a thing about directing a Band. It matters not he has absolutely no intention of even trying. It matters little his intentions from the moment the thought pops into his head that the little conservative Iowa town will be a perfect place to scam and run. When he hears these people can’t be scammed, the challenge takes over. It matters not his intentions are rude, crude and unattractive.

What does matter is with Norber behind the manipulation of Hill, you believe him. It doesn’t matter that this 1957 Broadway Musical that won eight Tony Awards has been seen seventy-eleven times. What matters is when Hill navigated by Norber whirls around with a knowing challenged grin plastered across his face, and you know exactly what he intends to do with these carefully closed minded River City folk, you still believe him. Somehow you can’t help but think Meredith Wilson who wrote the book, music and lyrics had Norber tucked in the back of his mind without realizing it.

With scams running cross-legged across the Internet, through the phone lines, and rambunctious door to door salesman, bilking innocent people out of their money; with convicted scam artists happily selling their stories of what not to do when confronting, and making money off their wily coyote traps, the timing is perfect for an enchanting glimpse back to 1912 River City when Harold Hill deliberately embarks from a train to take this small town for all its worth then catch the next train out of town with their money for band uniforms, instruments and sheet music before anyone catches on.

There’s one major difference between the scam artists of today and Harold Hill. He inadvertently gives the good folk of River City something he hadn’t counted on, something he didn’t know he had to give, a new lease on life, a belief in themselves. Aside from the musical dancing acting talent Norber has to give to Hill, he gives him exactly the same thing belief and heart. So much so that when he signs up River City residents, you want to hold your hand high and yell, “Me too.”

Wait a minute. Within minutes of Hill’s arrival into the provincial small town, we discover something. His name isn’t really Harold Hill. His name is Greg. Marcellus Washburn spills the beans. With an all-knowing cagey slyness, Scott Beyette provides the nervous humorous tension now framing Greg or Harold or whoever he might be with a slum dunk to a perfect scam. Marcellus knows Harold all too well. They were partners once, and now Marcellus has squelched his con-free days to live a legitimate life in the unsuspecting Iowa countryside. Keep an eye on Beyette as Marcellus shadows in and out of the town folk buzz, the character wades in and out of respectability and protecting his once partner-in-crime.

Too add to his challenge, Hill takes on double-duty to melt the icy heart and suspicious Marion Paroo (Teresa Cope), who actually is anything but icy. She’s a warm, gentle beautiful young woman who boxes herself in suspicion when she thinks suspicion is called for. With delicate subtlety, Cope moves through her public and private faces.

Choreographed by the brilliant and talented Alicia Dunfee, The Music Man sparks with an energetic creative style.

On the opening number in a rumbling railway coach with Charlie Cowell (John Scott Clough) and the Traveling Salesmen, the song Rock Island rocks with spirit as much as it did when Wilson first penned it. Although the chairs are stationary, the characters roll with the punches in unison as the train swings and sways along the track.

After Iowa Stubborn by the townspeople, Hill sees his chance, rushing in where angels fear to tread with Trouble. Oh, yes, there is trouble in River City with the addition of a pool hall. Perfectly innocent, perhaps but Hill knows how to turn the innocent into major big time trouble.

Wayne Kennedy turns Mayor Shinn into a delightful, pompous, jowl jiggling inflated small town politico.

Dunfee takes the Mayor’s wife, Eulalie Mackeenie Shinn for a rollicking ride of comic character, living her life as though she danced on Broadway as the Queen of England. Dunfee is exquisite as she bumbles her way through one Grecian Urn, two Grecian Urn with Alma Hix (Joanie Brosseau-Beyette), Maud Dunlop (a role shared by Shelly Cox-Robie and Jennifer Gaydosh), Ethel Toffelmier (Cindy Lawrence), and Gertie Dunlop (Lara Chamberlain) follow Eulalie as though she were Broadway’s Susan Stroman. In their 1912 small town protective isolation, she probably was as important to them as Stroman is to Broadway.

Hill takes four suspicious wary men: Ewart Dunlop (John Bosick), Oliver Hix (Ryan Francoeur), Jacey Squires (Lanny Boyer), and Olin Britt (A.K. Klimpke) and turns them into a non-stopping Barber Shop Quartet. Hill tells them once they realize how good they are, they won’t be able to stop, and they don’t. And, oh, they are good. These four turn some Barber Shop quartets into mere amateurs.

Bryce Baldwin and Kaleb Tank share the role of Winthrop, the stuttering shy brother of Marian and son of Mrs. Paroo (Barb Reeves). Reeves fills Mrs. Paroo with warmth and wisdom and patience shining from her eyes. The night I was there Tank played the role of Winthrop. Acting since he was 5-years-old, this 10-year-old certainly knows what he is doing on stage. Word has it that Baldwin enters into the role with same amount of delight and talent. Tank is adorable and gives Winthrop solid believability.

Hannah Ferwerda and Jenny McPherson share the role of Amaryllis who has puppy love eyes for Winthrop and who takes piano lessons from Marian. Hannah is an adorable talented young lady. She lights up the stage. The same word that clued me in on Baldwin also let it be known Ferwerda matches McPherson’s quality.

Besides the developing story beginning to sink Hill to his knees with Marian, another budding love story develops between Zaneeta Shinn (Lyndsay Giraldi) and Tommy Djilas (Matthew D. Peters. Protective and horrified, the puffed up Mayor forbids his daughter to have anything to do with the ragamuffin juvenile delinquent, Tommy.

Although Tommy begins to think he’s the no-good ragamuffin Shinn imposed on him, it is Hill that reaches into him allowing Tommy to reach out. The combination of Peters and Giraldi engulfs the high-strung spirit of Tommy and Zaneeta. Their chemistry moves them through conflict, confusion, and rebellion, into a believable force that Zaneeta and Tommy really are in love.

With Michael J. Duran as the directing producer and Neal Dunfee as the music director/conductor, what sets this production of The Music Man apart is its energy, detailed characterizations, creative spark, magical chemistry, elite cast, songs sung as though they have never been sung before, dances danced as though they come about as spontaneous expressions of a buttoned down Iowa small town as it becomes introduced to their alive reality.

There’s “Good Night My Love” melting every heart in the room, “Pickalittle” feeding off of busy body pecking chickens, “Marian the Librarian” that begins to melt her heart, even though she isn’t about to show it, which she does anyway because she can’t help herself. Isn’t it funny that when someone attempts to convince others they really don’t like someone or something, they actually flag the world the opposite of what is true? The thrill and excitement of “The Wells Fargo Wagon” rattles the rafters even as the plot thickens.

Yes, Harold Hill is a raggle taggle scheming con man who knows cleverly how not to make mistakes. Except this time. He falls in love with Marian, and not even that can he con himself out of. He’s doomed. He hasn’t the foggiest idea how to lead a band, and he’s trapped. People grow and the townspeople have found a magic to life. They see through his conniving means, and it doesn’t matter. What Harold Hill has given to them is far more meaningful than a bandleader.

The Music Man is Amy Campion’s first set design for Boulder’s Dinner Theatre, and she has done herself proud with brightly colored backdrops indicating Iowa’s countryside, brightly lit starry nights and snug caricatures of the Paroo’s tidy home and Main Street businesses.

If the show itself doesn’t turn you upside down and sideways with sheer total unadulterated delight, the ending will knock you out of your chair. Some surprises just need to be kept, though I have a tingling feeling this surprise will slip soon enough through the cracks. It just proves once more the exceptional talent that lives within the BDT walls.

The last word is simply: do not miss BDT’s The Music Man no matter who you are, what you do, or how you do it.