I needed another night at “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee” like I need another year in the fifth grade.
This modest little musical is by far the most-produced theater title in the country right now. By the end of 2011, there will have been 11 separate stagings here in Colorado in just the past two years.
This is a show about an actual middle-school spelling bee. It has a recurring song called “Goodbye,” sung whenever a contestant misspells a word – and I figure I’ve now heard that ditty about 467 times. The only upside to “Putnam County” overtaking every stage in America is there hasn’t been a “Steel Magnolias” sighting ’round these parts since July. And I’ve no doubt just jinxed that.
But it turns out, I did need at least one more viewing of this ubiquitous little charmer: Otherwise, I’d have missed one of the best.
The Town Hall Arts Center’s whimsical staging, lovingly attuned to the emotional pitfalls of early adolescence, really gets it right. It’s both genuine, and laugh-out-loud funny.
Talk about syzygy. (That’s a perfect alignment of the sun, moon, Earth – and all the elements that go into an affecting staging of “Putnam County.”)
Of course, most theatergoers at Town Hall, or anywhere else, are seeing “Putnam County” for the first time. And I envy them, because there’s really nothing like seeing something so completely original for the first time. But Town Hall’s presentation is so fresh, it kind of felt like my first time, too … maybe because they’ve so shamelessly re-written and localized many of the jokes. The 2007 national touring production took the same tact. One example here, referencing the Town Hall Arts Center: “Have you ever been in a gymnasium that was on top of an art gallery before?” Funny stuff.
For the unfamiliar, “Putnam County” is set at a middle school where six adorably awkward adolescents in the throes of varying stages of puberty and overachievement are taking part in an actual spelling bee – a rite of passage for smart kids. It’s the one place where
they can stand out and fit in at the same time.
A fun conceit has four actual audience members playing additional contestants. And sometimes these, “yes, they’re smarter than fifth graders” adults really can spell, which means they might stick around on stage for unexpectedly long periods of time. That uncertainty requires cast members to be on their toes and ready for anything.
Director Robert Wells has gathered an impeccable ensemble that, unlike many well-meaning “Putnam” casts, manages to be true to the comically painful age these kids are suffering through, rather than lampoon it.
The cast is made up of all adults, which is not only necessary because of the demands of the roles, but also central to what makes it so winning. They represent a pantheon of juvenile angst: There’s Cameron Stevens channeling his inner Pee-Wee Herman as bohemian Leaf. And lost lamb Olive (Heather Fritton), whose mom has ditched her for an ashram in India. Fritton is the first Olive I’ve seen who really gets that a kid can be both deeply sad and obliviously silly at the same time. Julia Perotta is so spot-on as the overachieving, no-nonsense parochial-school whiz-kid Marcy Park, you forget that the authors specifically envisioned her as an Asian. Chris Trimboli is snickeringly good as Chip, the hormonally supercharged boy scout who loses his focus, and the bee, when he spots a cute girl in the crowd. Scott Rathbun is following in some mighty big magic spelling feet as William Barfee, but he’s quintessential as the nasally challenged overweight snob who drips of both arrogance and snot.
They’re all fairly established actors in town, with great singing voices and even better comic sensibilities. Which only makes the addition of bug-eyed newcomer Kateri McRae as little lisping 10-year-old Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre, the product of two viciously competitive gay dads, that much more of a treat. What they all possess is a palpable vulnerability, a veneer of cockiness hiding layers of self-doubt that makes snickeringly plain the damage we adults do to young people by burdening them with unrealistic expectations.
It’s a remarkable balancing act, because with this show, “over the top” can mean “over and out.” (“Goodbye!”)
Wells’ adults are equally spot-on: In a career spanning two decades of nice, capable character roles, Margie Lamb just walks away with the part of moderator Rona Lisa Peretti, the former spelling champ whose real life hasn’t moved all that far from this gym. Daniel Langhoff channels his inner Will Forte as the bee’s official inquisitor. He turns every contestant’s request to have a word used in a sentence into a deadpan bellylaugh. And veteran Brian Smith is equally horrific (in a good way!) playing both Mitch Mahoney, the intimidating ex-con who’s doing his community service by serving as “comfort counselor” to the losing contestants, and as one of Logainne’s wacky daddies.
Seeing “Putnam County” in the intimate confines of the Town Hall Arts Center is so much better than seeing the excellent national touring production in the cavernous Buell Theatre. You can practically smell the sweat in Tina Anderson’s grade-school gymnasium. Alternating piano players Donna Debreceni and Mary Gottlieb can’t help but laugh along with the ongoing silliness.
Despite a treacly tangent in the second act, “Putnam County” achieves a wonderful balance between heartfelt poignancy and raunchy, middle-school humor. But there are great, affirming lessons to be learned here for anyone over 10. Including their parents.
Kids are fragile things. They work so hard sometimes that they work themselves into a lather. All it takes is the slightest synapse to shake them to the core. But sometimes the best thing that can happen to a kid is to get a little taste of losing. And to be reminded that we’ll love them anyway.
“The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee” ***1/2 (out of four stars)
Presented by the Town Hall Arts Center, 2450 W. Main St. 2 hours, 15 minutes. 7:30 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; 2 p.m. Sundays; plus 6:30 p.m. Sunday, Jan. 23. $18-$36 (limited, $10 seats one hour before each performance). 303-794-2787 or townhallartscenter.com.
