Two icons of American culture have left us: Gregory Peck and David Brinkley.

posted: 3:35:37 PM  

Pippin, book by Roger O. Hirson, music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, directed by Thomas W. Jones II, Round House Theatre, Bethesda, Maryland

There's not much magic to be found in this production. From the opening number, with bits of tacked-on choreography (pirouettes and timesteps) that seem to be there just because the dancers could execute them, this show is all volume and energy and no soul. It's unfortunate that the complicated lighting plot entails a lot of spill into the seating areas, because then it's clear to all that the players are having a lot more fun than the audience.

Of course, much of the problem lies with the material. The story, of a young man's search for the perfect adventure, could be summarized on a matchbook cover. (Can someone explain to me what this has to do with medieval history?) And the songs are forgettable, each and every one.

But Jones and his cast and crew strain to make something of it. The pop culture references (Fonzie's "aaay") scattered into the show are gratuitous and corny. The dancing is surprisingly undemanding. One 6 o'clock leg kick does not a dance make.

One piece of set was interesting: an ordinary child's tree swing serves as throne for Charles and then Pippin. And Reggie Ray's costume designs give us something to look at and keep the actors busy. A sequence near the end of the first act calls for most of the cast to double over-dress.

posted: 12:07:59 AM