OREM — Steve Martin and Edie Brickell created the musical Bright Star, by developing a concept album that became a dramatic romance story set in the post-World War American South. The show ran on Broadway for a few months in 2016 with some positive praise and some reviews and audiences that were less warm on the bluegrass twang. As director Chase Ramsey points out in his director’s note, the story is filled with moments where something happens that could be good or could be bad. Even those things which seem the bleakest may be the first steps on a path towards greater joy.
In so many ways, my feelings about this production mirror the directors note. There are some things that were strong choices which I didn’t feel landed. There were other moments that might be simple and overlooked which felt profound. But on the balance, it was a show that I walked away from having laughed, sighed, and ultimately being endowed with greater hope in humanity.
Chase Ramsey, who both scenic designed and directed, brought a sharp eye to Bright Star. The immediate image on stage of a rustic cabin set the story right away. What I was less convinced of was the design choice to have a series of what looked for all the world like Monsters Inc. doors staggered along the back and a similar array of windows along the proscenium and across the far edges of the stage. Practically, I get the choices. The doors provided a visually gripping landing point for some truly excellent projection mapping that enlivened some of the play’s most powerful moments, and I was wrong in my initial impression. The windows, however, never made sense. They were stylistically all over the place and there were too many. I get that they were used to light stars in songs that mentioned them, but it felt cluttered to me. The windows could have been fewer in number or there could have been another practical solution to hanging those lights. The vision was there, it just didn’t work.
However one of the strongest points of both the direction and the design was the transitions of the more mobile scenic elements. Ramsey creates visually striking stage pictures utilizing the ensemble and the mobile set pieces. In early scenes in Margot’s book store, the business of customers blends flawlessly into the musical and scenic transitions. When Mayor Dobbs takes the baby on the train, the music is percussive like a train pulling forward. The cast used percussive movements to match the music and set the stage. Along with strong projections in these scenes (cursive handwriting in the store, and night time train tracks flying by in the other), these visuals were stunning and some of the best design work I’ve ever seen SCERA accomplish. I think where Ramsey excelled was in these ensemble driven moments.
I also found the actors, across the board, to be keyed in to the jokes. There were numerous punchy lines delivered that found their marks. Whether these were quips between bantering rivals, or character reveals like Lucy’s retort that Daryl can indeed judge the attractiveness of a man, the humor wasn’t lost on the cast. I found myself consistently appreciating the well timed deliveries of the cast. Sparks flew as the actors embraced the script’s wit.
That chemistry, however, was incredibly lacking romantically. From the jump, Billy Cane (played by Bryson Smellie), has a really funny line that while he’s been away at war, his love interest Margot has “grown in every which way.” This was one of the rare jokes, however, that was lost, as he didn’t seem to be alluding to her maturing beauty from girl to woman. Over and over, I found that the romance, especially of young lovers, was pedestrian. Romance doesn’t need to be gratuitously physical to be believable, it just needs to not feel restrained the way it did. When Kelsey Mariner Thompson and Christian Wawro played Alice and Jimmy Ray, revealed their matured and more profound recovered love there was depth. I believed that they had longed for each other in secret in their decades of separation. However nothing about their young characters belied a wild side that could result in the story’s foundational pregnancy.
What did work for the actors, however, was the rest of their performances. Thompson’s awful devastation at losing her baby and searching fruitlessly for him was gut wrenching. Her vocals were breathtaking and appeared effortless, even when dancing. I would come back to watch Thompson play this role again and again. She and her mother (Shawnda Moss) had exceptional chemistry and elevated the stakes of some of the play’s tenderest moments. Thompson played her older self more strongly, but was a stellar performer through the show.
Similarly, Wawro had great vocals in “Heartbreaker” and his voice was strong singing throughout. I felt, however, that “Heartbreaker” was undercut by having his father (played by Ben Henderson) leave the scene. The song is a bitter accusation and Wawro was undercut by not having someone to direct his wrath towards.
I should also mention that the other technical elements were largely very strong. Elizabeth Griffiths presented an exceptional lighting design that set mood, location, and isolated spots that actors hit with precision time and again. Her use of textured gobos helped give distinct feelings to the play’s many locations told the story without words. Chase Elison’s sound mix was strong and reached through the house, and Christy Norton made exceptional period appropriate use of props. The only moment that felt out of the play were the times characters wore khakis and polos like it was 2006 rather than 1946.
The play tells a story that can be complex to follow. The ensemble and cast navigated these changes beautifully and never muddled the story’s timeline or moments. The painful moments made me ache, and the witty ones earned uproarious laughter. It was a strong performance from a cast that elevated a script and made Orem feel right at home in the deep south. If you don’t know Alice’s story in Bright Star, SCERA’s production is a fine place to hear it.