REVIEW: Garner Theatre Productions’ Bright Star coasts on charm and likability
iPhoto caption: Kaylee Harwood with members of the 'Bright Star' ensemble. Photo by Dahlia Katz.
Steve Martin and Edie Brickell’s Bright Star begins with a tantalizing promise: “If you knew my story,” its main character sings, “you’d have a good story to tell.” But the effectiveness of any story depends entirely on the teller.
Inspired by Martin and Brickell’s 2013 bluegrass album, Bright Star premiered at San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre before a short Broadway run in 2016. A sweet, feel-good show with a telegraphed twist and a message about the power of hope, it coasts on charm and likability, but doesn’t include most of the elements that make a musical theatre story stick, such as unique characterization, well-paced suspense, and memorable language.
In director Jacob Wolstencroft’s production, Brandon Kleiman’s appropriately homey set features wooden porches and the backdrop of a house’s gray-blue exterior occasionally sprayed with stars. Windows fill the backdrop, as if each might open to reveal a story of its own.
The prospect of stories compels Alice Murphy (Kaylee Harwood), a carefree North Carolina teen in the early 1920s, who’s desperate to get out from under her conservative family’s roof and into a good university. She’s distracted from her exit plan by Jimmy Ray Dobbs (George Krissa), son of the town’s blowhard mayor (Brendan Wall), who with equal fervour opposes Jimmy Ray’s romantic inclinations and his college applications.
We meet the heroine of this classic tale of star-crossed lovers, loosely based on true events, two decades later; single and grim, she rules the Asheville Southern Journal with a literary iron fist. It’s unusual for her to even read a new writer’s story, but something about eager Billy Cane (Nick Dolan), a young man just returned from serving in the Second World War, speaks to her.
Bright Star covers it all: thwarted love, coming of age, family drama, the power of art, the importance of remaining true to oneself. Yet Martin’s wit, which blazes in plays like Picasso at the Lapin Agile, merely twinkles here, largely contained to Alice’s magazine office and her two wisecracking employees (Andrew Legg and Marie Mahabal Hauer). The book features short scenes that rise quickly to sudden declarations and decisions before a song starts, as if Martin doesn’t trust the audience to stay awake without a revelation every three minutes.
Mirvish and Garner Theatre Productions’ staging is appealingly homegrown, featuring a cast of enthusiastic Canadian actors. In keeping with Garner’s mandate, the actors are also the instrumentalists, letting violins, banjos, and guitars become extensions of their characters’ actions. Jason Hand’s lighting does nice work in focusing our attention on the important parties while letting the chorus swirl around them like a sonic river. Underscored by the varying levels of comfort (and tuning) the actors display with their instruments, there’s the rousing feeling of community theatre. Adding to the hang-out vibe, Wolstencroft directs everything with a laid-back pace.
Winsome and winning Yunike Soedarmasto stands out as hometown bookstore owner Margo, who hopes that her long-term friendship with Billy can turn into love now that they’re both grown. Beau Dixon injects humour and heart into his friendly, caring Daddy Cane, a welcome contrast to all the terrible parents on display.
Krissa, who nearly stole the show in Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812 as a dashing cad, shows that he can be both hunky and soulful as the conflicted Jimmy Ray, at his best when he’s playing his chastened older self. And Harwood in particular has a beautiful voice, tinging her songs with irony and regret.
It’s a pity that the sound balance (designed by Deanna H. Choi) almost swallows up her entire opening number and, despite improvement, still makes the evening feel vaguely muted.
Also muting the show are Brickell’s lyrics — the biggest disappointment. Instead of layered, personality-driven pieces distinct to each character, the songs are largely straightforward descriptions of what is happening or the singers simply stating their emotions in the moment.
Martin and Brickell paint a balanced picture of the American South; their leads are readers and artists seeking to defy the prejudices of their family members, and speak about the importance of well-chosen words. Yet the lyrics give no window into those personality traits, rarely rising above aphorism and usually less interesting than the dialogue. Love songs for different couples are virtually indistinguishable; one tries to rhyme “go” with “porch,” which is a stretch for even the thickest Southern accent.
That being said, there is value in the songs’ simplicity, which gives them an air of naked vulnerability. Brickell and Martin’s bluegrass and folk music is gentle and lovely, often feeling like an antidote to the harshness of the world beyond the theatre doors; “Sun Is Gonna Shine,” with the resonant backing of the strings, is a stirring anthem.
I just wish that “good story,” written by stars, shone a bit brighter.
Bright Star runs at the CAA Thetre until November 2. More information is available here.
Intermission reviews are independent and unrelated to Intermission’s partnered content. Learn more about Intermission’s partnership model here.
Ilana Lucas
Ilana Lucas is a professor of English in Centennial College’s School of Advancement. She is the President of the Canadian Theatre Critics Association. She holds a BA in English and Theatre from Princeton University, an MFA in Dramaturgy and Script Development from Columbia University, and serves as Princeton’s Alumni Schools Committee Chair for Western Ontario. She has written for Brit+Co, Mooney on Theatre, and BroadwayWorld Toronto. Her most recent play, Let’s Talk, won the 2019 Toronto Fringe Festival’s 24-Hour Playwriting Contest. She has a deep and abiding love of musical theatre, and considers her year working for the estate of Tony winners Phyllis Newman and Adolph Green one of her most treasured memories.
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