“Can I borrow?” I asked when calling Edge for tickets.
“Borrow what?” Tickets-reservations contact Dee Dee Brown was caught off guard.
“Can you “Lend Me a Tenor?”
“Of course,” Brown responded without skipping a beat or commenting on my rather pathetic, if not adolescent attempt at humor; which was, incidentally, the fault of the mailer that Edge had sent out promoting their version of “Lend Me a Tenor” by Ken Ludwig.
Edge’s mailer was silly, off- the-wall and loaded with promises of opera, uproarious comedy and a cast that would make you laugh till it hurts. It hit and stuck where I live.
Also, the mailer was no exaggeration. This is one you don’t want to miss.
The question this merry mix of mishaps and madness asks is: what happens?
What happens when The Cleveland Grand Opera has booked a world-renowned tenor to keep them from going broke during The Great Depression, the house is sold out, it’s minutes to curtain and the tenor is discovered dead, kaput, his mortal coil shuffled off?
As for the answer, it is a little of Verdi’s “Othello,” a little cheesecake, some misdirection, a few eye-popping surprises and a whole heck of a lot of door-slamming, bravado, pitiful whimpering and emotional fireworks on a galactic scale; all of it, topped off by a cast of actors totally removed from anything resembling reason. As for likelihoods and sense and sensibility as the rest of us know it, forget them. This is all stuff and nonsense, short-fused and sure dynamite.
Jack Hamlin doesn’t look like a Pavarotti or Placido Domingo. Hamlin’s tall, very tall, gangling and moves like a lawn chair unfolding. But he’s got the bigger-than-life presence with a childlike innocence that stereotypes opera tenors and a likable, vulnerable quality you can’t get away from. His womanizing Italian tenor Tito Merelli draws and dominates.
Chubby-faced Aaron Odom pouts, simpers and cowers to hilarious effect as the step-and-fetch-it go-fer, Max.
Samantha Underwood adds moments of gripping drama when she isn’t swooning, gushing and throwing herself at Tito, the glamorous Italian lover and visiting tenor with a bad boy reputation. The result is a Maggie that Underwood transforms from run-of-the-mill groupie to rounded-out character. A much more satisfying result, I say.
You’d think a bellhop with swish and forever putting his two cents worth in would wear a little thin. But Rick Wright’s doesn’t. Wright’s every appearance decorates with dash and panache. His clown’s face is a show ornament and sheer delight.
No wife of a philandering Italian opera star could possibly be feistier, fierier and downright fierce than Sara Trowbridge’s Maria Merelli. You don’t want those pitiless, dark eyes trained on you when she’s mad. But, on the other hand, you wouldn’t mind them rolling softly in your direction when you do something right. Fire, ice and irresistible charm, that’s Trowbridge’s Merelli.
Stephanie McBain sizzles as the wily soprano hell-bent on melting down Tito to further her career.
Brian Vyrostek and Melanie Calderwood underpin as the self-important, domineering Opera Company manager and the middle-aged chairperson of the ladies auxiliary who’d give anything to cuddle with Tito.
“Tenor” shows a little skin, simulates a little romp and roll but only in good-natured fun. Nothing goes too far.
Terrific night out. Guaranteed escape you won’t want to come back out of.
Reactions? Comments? E-mail Dale Burrows at grayghost7@comcast.net.
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