In the most oppressive and painful circumstances, the best escape can come in the form of fond memories.
In the Tony Award-winning musical “The Kiss of the Spider Woman,” it’s the cherished recollections of reels upon reels of vintage 1940s films that serve as a salvation for Molina, an inmate in a Latin American prison in the 1950s. The character summons up memories of plot lines, musical numbers and a singular starlet — the haunting and seductive Aurora — to deal with the beatings, the harassment and the loss of his basic freedom.
That dual narrative is part of what makes the musical by John Kander, Fred Ebb and Terrence McNally so intriguing, and the current production of the show at the Vintage Theater pays close attention to both threads. Director Craig Bond and the cast take pains to recreate all the glitz and glamor of vintage cinema through complex choreography and careful vocal direction. At the same time, the production doesn’t shy away from the most gritty and brutal elements of its setting: a cramped prison where inmates suffer regular rounds of torture.
The central narrative comes in the relationship that develops between Molina, a gay man entrapped and imprisoned for his sexuality, and Valentin, a Marxist revolutionary interred for his activism. As the pair become closer, the pressure to wring a confession out of Valentin intensifies. The warden and his guards use poison, torture and Machiavellian plots to get the Marxist to spill the names of his collaborators. As the net closes and the pressure ramps up, Molina shares his fond film memories with his cell mate, and their relationship starts to deepen.
It’s a fascinating balancing act between celluloid dreams and the worst kind of deprivation. The constant juggling works with varying degrees of success. Some of the faults lie in the more labored moments of the text itself. An over-the-top musical number set in a prison infirmary, for example, feels far too ambitious. The links between the cinematic world of fantasy and the violent life of a South American prison can feel a bit flimsy at crucial points, and the impact of the central story suffers.
Despite such moments, Bond’s cast offers heartfelt and endearing performances. As Molina, Gabriel Morales keeps his approach subtle and tasteful. His portrayal of a gay window dresser jailed for enticing a minor never falls into the realm of caricature. Similarly, Brian Merz-Hutchinson’s delivery as Valentin is nuanced and powerful — his political convictions are impassioned, his struggles are affecting and his relationship with Molina develops at a believable pace. Both shine in the play’s most demanding musical moments. A strong ensemble supports these performances — Deboarah Persoff shines as Molina’s ailing mother, and Julie Lemieux’s musical delivery as Marta, Valentin’s love interest “over the wall” is a high point. Persoff, Lemieux and Merz-Huthchinson offer sterling three-part harmonies during “Dear One/Mother Mother,” a tune that stands out.
Still, the crux of the musical’s delicate equilibrium rests largely on the shoulders of the title character. As the entrancing Aurora, the Spider Woman who carries death in her kiss, Megan Van De Hey shines. She follows up her 2011 Henry Award-winning performance in the Vintage company’s production of “Grey Gardens” with a like amount of passion and ability.
Van De Hey’s role as a remembered starlet places her character in a strange in-between world; she operates largely in the memories and imagination of Molina. But her sheer presence makes her something more integral. It’s the Spider Woman who opens the curtains for the opening number and kicks off the narration. It’s Aurora’s fierce voice and constant presence that serve as the story’s glue, its central thread. At the close of the drama, it’s the Spider Woman who offers the conclusions, who grasps the curtains in her hands, closes them tight and shuts off the view of the stage. In Bond’s production, there is no curtain call, a touch that adds a deep degree of finality to the end of the show.
Van De Hey takes up this responsibility with ease and constant energy. The character adds something deeper to this tale of tragic love; there’s a cinematic quality here, an element that turns downtrodden prison inmates into glitzy dancers arrayed in a kick line. Despite some moments that feel like a stretch, the Spider Woman helps the delicate balancing act stay afloat. She helps bring the epic world of the movies to a dingy prison somewhere in South America.
Reach reporter Adam Goldstein at agoldstein@aurorasentinel.com or 720-449-9707
“Kiss of the
Spider Woman”Runs through Dec. 2, the Vintage Theatre, 1468 Dayton St. Tickets start at $25.
Information and showtimes: 303-856-7830 or vintagetheatre.com.
3.5 stars out of 4