
Broadway Bound deals with some painful truths — those moments when mom and dad are unquestionably broken, when grandpa keeps getting older, when we realize growing up means change and all change is not created equal. But the best comedy comes from tragedy, and, given the choice between laughing and crying, Neil Simon always lets us laugh. Almost.
We embrace such moments in this production for another reason: Because the actors make us feel what they feel. No one does this better in Broadway Bound than Rosemary Orlando, who plays Kate, Eugene and Stanley’s mother.
That does not stop the laughter; this play, overall, has a superb cast. If occasionally Paul Finocchiaro (Jack) stumbles over a line or if the lighting reveals Greg Thompson (Ben) to have makeup issues (the old man makeup was two tones lighter than his neck and hands), Orlando gives a through-line that pulls the play along.
We embrace these moments for another reason: Because the actors make us feel what they feel.
Erik Haak and Karla Hartley worked together on a well-planned set, and the other production values (costumes, lights, props and the like) all work as they should, which is to say the audience doesn’t notice them.
As to the acting: No question remains that Orlando owns this show, but the rest of the cast each offers rich characters as well. It’s disappointing we don’t see more of Heather Krueger’s Blanche; one of the show’s two loveliest scenes is one where Krueger and Orlando establish their relationship as sisters. Eugene and Stanley, played by Ricky Cona and Spencer Meyers, respectively, are, at this juncture in the trilogy, already well-defined characters. Cona, who has played Eugene in all three of Stageworks’ productions (over the past eight years), slips easily into his role, as does Meyers.
What may surprise audiences unfamiliar with the play is that this story has more to do with the poignancy of life than pithy asides about growing up Jewish. It pushes the limits of laughter, tempering it at times with sadness and heartbreak, but somewhere near the surface, laughter always lurks.
This article appears in May 5-11, 2016.
