Last October I had an impassioned newsroom discussion about The Marvelous Wonderettes, the show we’d just reviewed at Stageworks in Tampa. The crux of the debate was whether a musical set in the late ’60s with no activist-songs or mention of social issues was worth seeing, and if there was anyone who could have lived in the ’60s without listening to that music.
My reaction was swift: Yes, my mom.
Now, don’t misunderstand — my mother knows the issues and has plenty to say (apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I know). But in 1968 — half the setting for the original and the entire setting for the sequel, The Winter Wonderettes — my mom was 23, dating the man she would later marry, and her life was very much double dates with my dad’s brother and the woman who would become my aunt. The world around her? Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy’s assassinations; it was the year of the Tet offensive, Richard Nixon and the Black Panthers. But, trust me, Janis Joplin was not my mom’s music.
Perhaps she, like her daughter, thought real life had enough pain and enjoyed a little escapism.
When The Winter Wonderettes came around, I took great pleasure in watching her slip back into that happier version of her 1968 world. Baby Boomers and Gen X sat side by side in a sold-out house, laughing and clapping and having no choice but to be part of the show. Yes, Wonderettes has some audience participation (if you don’t mind being part of the show, sit in the front row), and it’s two acts of Christmas songs and comedy. What’s the opposite of stodgy? Whatever it is, that’s what this is.
The premise is simple: Four high school friends who sang together in the choir are getting the band back together (so to speak) to sing at a local hardware store’s Christmas party. Meet — or meet again — Cindy Lou (Heather Baird), Missy (Alison Burns), Suzy (Elizabeth Latimer) and Betty Jean (Heather Krueger).
To a letter, they’re remarkably talented and backed by delightful lighting cues (thank you, Jo Averill-Snell) and just-the-right-amount-of-schmaltz Christmas decor (kudos to set designer Amanda Bearss; the gift box set pieces are inspired). For an afternoon, everyone in the theater was able to escape the world outside and simply have a good time, the credit for which goes in no small measure to director Karla Hartley.
The quartet harmonized absolutely flawlessly. The only thing keeping this from being a five-star review was the musicians, who played so loudly that, at the end of the first act, a few audience members covered their ears. They didn’t play consistently loud, but since the theater isn’t exactly the largest in Tampa Bay, it was — pardon the pun — amplified. I have faith in Stageworks that it was a one-time snafu and won’t be an issue when you attend.
While each of the four Wonderettes made us laugh and smile, our group agreed: Latimer’s Suzy — the only one of the fabulous foursome who didn’t appear in last year’s performance — blew us away. I couldn’t be that perky for two hours if you threatened to shove matchsticks under my toenails and light them on fire, but she deftly pulls off clueless, wide-eyed wonder like most of us put on flip-flops. Krueger’s Betty Jean, by contrast, shows us the heartbreak every woman has or will feel. She bounces back nicely, though — and with no small degree of agency over her sexuality.
Speaking of which, Baird’s Cindy Lou isn’t afraid of men. Or anything, it seems — and don’t we all want to be a little like her sometimes? Burns’ Missy reminded me of a certain friend we all have who looks and acts like the good girl, and gets away with everything. I mean, c’mon — she married her high school choir teacher?
If I were to sit back and analyze the play, I’d suggest they each represented four parts of what all women are at one time or another, but really, this isn’t a Christmas musical to be analyzed. It’s a holiday show to be delighted in, laughed at and loved.
If you’re looking for Hamilton or Freedom Riders, don’t look here. However, if you’re tired of reading about government shutdowns and border walls, or whether or not you’re going to witness the actual end of the Founding Fathers’ experiment in democracy, well, then, this show might be exactly what you need.
The world will still be waiting when you step outside the theater. I pinky swear.
Cathy Salustri is the arts + entertainment editor and she rarely answers emails, but what the hell, send her one anyway. Or maybe follow her on Twitter. Also, she'd love it if you subscribed to Creative Loafing's Do This newsletter.
