Scapino: An Unsatisfying Pie In The Face

By James Cullum
alexandrianews.org

The Little Theatre of Alexandria may have been hasty when it included “Scapino“ in this season’s lineup. Perhaps opening night jitters contributed to Saturday evening’s performance, but that’s no excuse for a show that could have been performed better by high school students. The plot, which was difficult to follow, dragged on for almost two hours. Applause was stilted. The actors were unbelievable, unlikable, constantly broke character to make campy jokes with the audience and had little sense of comedic timing.

Marianne Meyers plays Scapino, the servant. This is confusing for the first 30 minutes of the play because the character is supposed to be a man, not a woman in a bright orange double-breasted suit, a bowler hat and black dancing shoes. He’s supposed to be many things: a scoundrel, a schemer and the slyest life coach you ever saw. Imagine Howard Keel, the suave leading man from “Kiss Me Kate” in this role. He would laugh heartily and solve the problems of his Italian friends with mischievous charm. But in the LTA production, the cast pretends that Scapino is a male, even though he/she’s wearing lipstick and eyeliner and has a high, feminine voice.

“Yes, I am brilliant,” Meyers says in a high voice without modulation. “There’s never been another fellow who measures up to me when it comes to getting people out of a situation.”

This switcheroo is done twice to the audience. Liz Owens plays Sylvestro, the bumbling friend and assistant to Scapino. The character is obviously a woman, even though she wears a suit and black fedora. Owens and Meyers sprinted through much of their dialogue making it seem that these old friends were trying too hard to be funny while what they really needed to do was slow down and take the audience on a journey.

The 1974 play is loosely based on Moliere’s lesser-known “The Impostures of Scapin”. It opens at a seaside Italian restaurant, which is next door to a brothel. The restaurant’s four-person wait staff are the first actors to appear. They face the audience and make flight attendant motions while a voice on a microphone says: “Welcome to Scapino Airlines” – all of this a depressing prelude to the rest of the evening.

There is a lack of clear and focused direction. The dialogue is thrown at the audience with overacted emotion. Characters mysteriously sit Indian-style on the floor at odd times while perfectly good chairs stand empty. The wait staff sit on the ground in front of the brothel in their oxford-cloth shirts and bow ties and play imaginary games of cards .In crowded scenes, as many as 14 random people seem to wander aimlessly around the stage. There was one consolation: the cast wisely didn’t employ fake Italian accents, with the exception of a stereotypically Italian “Wassamatta you?” screaming match.

Two young men, Ottavio (Paul Laudiero) and Leandro (Joe Randazzo), are devastated because their fathers do not approve of the women they love. At one point, as Scapino says goodbye to Giacinta (Lucy Rojansky), he briefly sings an “Evita”-inspired “Don’t Cry For Me Giacinta.” Rojansky and Laudiero have no chemistry. Ottavio is a weakling who can‘t refuse his father. It’s hard to care about a character who doesn’t sit on chairs and says things like: “I suffer from a natural cowardice that I can’t overcome.”

Raddazzo is the only actor in the play who made his character believable. The interaction with his father is genuine and the corny jokes roll off his tongue. When he decided to drown himself by diving head first into the audience he looked up slightly and said, “Sorry lady,” to a woman in the front row. It was a relief. People laughed.

Enter Scapino to save the day. For some reason, Sylvestro is always around, and compelled to make a poor impersonation of Marlon Brando, which he does. Early on, Scapino easily tricks Argante, Ottavio’s father, in a game of “Duck Season, Rabbit Season” and convinces Geronte, Leandro’s father, that his son has been kidnapped and needs ransom money. This seems pretty straightforward and the plot should be fixed in the audience‘s mind, but it isn‘t.

When Argante (Steve Rosenthal) first appears onstage he breaks character by telling Scapino: “Hi Marianne. Great work tonight.” A few minutes later, Argante says “I can be the very devil if I want to be,” which is followed by Scapino, who tells a silent audience: “Oh he can. Just wait until the second act. He’s a devil.”

Extra long chase scenes feel like they will never end, especially when accompanied by the Benny Hill theme song and sausage-wielding actors. Jokes that should be only repeated three times are repeated seven or more times so that the audience will get into it and join in, but they never do.

The Little Theatre of Alexandria has put on excellent shows in the past. Hopefully their next show, “Chicago” will be better.