I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

The Evergreen Players production of Joe DiPietro and Jimmy Roberts’ ever-popular musical revue, I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change, opened last weekend at Center/Stage on tip toes of a good production inches away from becoming very good.

Phil Rosenberg-Watt, Mark LeBeau and Emily Macomber in a scene from Evergreen Player’s production of I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change. Photo by Ellen Nelson

The talented cast directed by P. K. Worley includes: Mark LeBeau, Emily Macomber, Amy Dinyse, and Phil Rosenberg-Watt. This well-loved musical demands strong powerful voices; ability to change characters within seconds, and confidence in direct quick stage movements. Designed to be a fast-paced roller coaster ride through male/female relationships, anything slowing down the process eats away at the impact of this hilarious and warm-hearted musical production.

This particular cast owns what is required, but someone needs to tell them they have it, and they need to believe it. Throughout the show they grab the musical by the throat, and then back away as though doubt becomes an additional cast member. Their voices are powerful enough. Their character developments are “funnily” laughable and warmly thoughtful enough, until they back away in the middle of a sketch. The most obvious backing away shows up when Travis Yamamoto’s playful piano and Vladimir Petrov’s whimsical violin drown them out, which happens frequently.

Because of its fast paced nature, I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change was deliberately designed for a sparse set: four chairs, two tables, rolling chairs for “The Family That Drives Together” and a couple of incidentals for the wedding and funeral scenes. The production company added a few extras with stagehands making scene changes stretching out and slowing down the production. With a sparse setting, the cast themselves can speed up the process by setting their own scenes during musical interludes.

I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change take relationships back to the beginning when “God said ‘let there be light’.’

Twenty scenarios unfold incorporating over 60 characters celebrating relationships with humor, wrapped in reality from the agonized confusion of the first date, manipulating relationships, meeting the parents, breaking up, the wedding, consequences of a baby in the house, sex and the exhausted parents, why a guy loves his car, reflections on a couple married 30 years, and the elderly finding companionship at a funeral.

Yamamoto and Petrov’s combined music fills the score with star-quality excitement. Placed in front of the stage to the audience’s left, I couldn’t help but wonder if it would help the sound to have them on stage behind the actors. The ample space would give everyone plenty of room, and the voices wouldn’t have to cut across the musical sound. It is fun to keep an eye on the musicians, especially prior to the beginning of Act II when Yamamoto and Petrov encourage their instruments carry on their own comedic musical conversation.

The music, however, isn’t the only element to drown out the voices; the actors do some of it themselves during speaking segments by turning down their own volume in the middle of a scene.

Macomber shines with two songs “I Will Be Loved Tonight” and “He Called Me.” When called upon, her powerful voice can be softened and still project beyond the piano and violin. Her expressions of anticipation, in “I Will Be Loved Tonight,” and “He Called Me” reflect the inner turmoil of a single woman aching for a meaningful relationship.

LeBeau plays a friend visiting new parents, played by Rosenberg-Watt and Macomber, reduced to baby talk. This sketch reads well with the cast ingratiated into their roles. It’s a funny scenario no matter which way you cut it, and LeBeau’s expressions sandwiched between the obsessed baby talkers creates laughter of been-there-done-that recognition, and laughter because it is just plain funny. LeBeau’s character chomps at the bit to get out of the house. Opportunity strikes, and he runs for it, insisting Rosenberg-Watt’s character call him when the kid gets into college. Picking up the Pooh Bear LeBeau brought as a gift to Frank Jr., Rosenberg-Watt leads into the charming tender “The Baby Song” proving he has what it takes.

Rolling chairs become a prized car for Rosenberg-Watt as a husband who knows his wife played by Macomber rules the roost. “At home,” he laments, I’m not the boss.” His eyes light up gesturing “but I’ve got my car.” Traditionally the song “On The Highway of Love” becomes a show highlight because of the precise choreographed chairs wielded around the stage by the Parents and the two kids played by Dinyse and LeBeau. Rather than wheeling to a choreographed chair dance, it appears as though the cast is given free reign to roll whenever and however they want in a mish-mash of chaos and way too slow to impact the scene. There isn’t much change in Rosenberg-Watt’s demeanor from the moment he delivers the hen-pecked husband to when he takes over driving the macho thrilled car ride. His character wants to puff up when he is behind the wheel and collapse under his wife’s bossy dictatorship, and that doesn’t happen.

LeBeau’s song “Shouldn’t I Love You Less,” provides internal expressions for a couple married 30 years going through sleepy routine motions of breakfast, but loses its punch with Dinyse’s out of place “What?” at the end. If he’d been sitting at the table looking at her instead of standing center stage singing to the audience, and if she’d had the paper not completely covering her face, her “What?” would read as she senses him looking at her. LeBeau does a grand job with the beautifully written song. Undoubtedly every woman in the audience married 30 years or more will hope her husband carries those unspoken thoughts. LeBeau magnificently captures the unspoken perceptive thinking penned by DiPietro.

With “Funerals Are Made for Dating,” Rosenberg-Watt and Dinyse portray Arthur and Muriel, lonely elderly people, connecting at a funeral. She misses her Jim and he misses his Sue. Inviting her out for a cup of coffee, Muriel wants to know if this is a pick-up. “No,” he responds, “If this was a pick-up, you’d have to commit to a date. This is just an attempted pick-up.” Dinyse makes Muriel real. Rosenberg-Watt comes close, but he rushes his lines for an elderly decrepit old man.

Costume designer Cindy Franke did a grand job fitting the actors for their numerous roles and dressing the characters revealing their slice of life. Lighting designer John Davis fed light to the right spots from bright to soft so well the lighting was hardly noticeable.

To the Cast of I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change, it needs to be said: “You’ve Got It, Believe It, Now Flaunt It.”