Possibly the best thing about Moliere's Scapin, currently playing at the Silver Meteor Gallery, is the evidence it provides that Hat Trick Theatre is maturing. This Tampa-based theater company is just a little over two years old, during which time it has offered a few top-notch experiences — Bash and When You Comin' Back, Red Ryder, for example — and a bunch of also-rans, including, most recently, Look Back In Anger, Waiting for Godot and How I Learned to Drive.
Hat Trick's problem, more often than not, has been wrongheaded casting, but the company has also suffered from uninspired direction and poorly conceived set design. So even as programming has gotten better, other elements have continued to weaken Hat Trick shows. And there's been little evidence that these problems were fading.
Which brings me back to Scapin and how it shows that things are changing. This is a show about directing — Jack Holloway's, to be exact — and about good solid acting and attractive design. The production still isn't quite satisfying — this type of farce, heavily influenced by Italian commedia dell'arte, requires brilliance, not just talent — but its precision, its well-calibrated physicality and unashamed theatricality all add up to just that sort of professionalism that too many Hat Trick shows have lacked.
Watching Scapin, you can't help but notice how much work has gone into the spectacle in front of you, into the sight gags, the stage combat, the choreography, the heads popping in and out of windows, the bodies rushing in and out of doors. Where so many past Hat Trick shows were sloppy and short on detail, this one is clean and careful and deliberate to the nth degree. The result goes further than good intentions; this is true stagecraft. If Hat Trick can manage this much, there's no end to the possibilities.
The story Scapin tells, in this adaptation by Bill Irwin and Mark O'Donnell, is a variation on a familiar commedia theme: A young man is opposed by his father in his choice of bride. In fact, the play features two such infatuated young men, Octave and Leander, the first of whom is in love with the penniless Hyacinth and the second of whom is committed to the gypsy Zerbinette. Each needs a certain amount of money to secure his happiness, and each depends on Scapin, the stock figure of the clever servant, to locate the money and outwit the aging parent. Scapin is aided by another servant, the less intelligent Sylvestre, and eventually has a love interest of his own in the servant woman Nerine. In the Molière original, the two parents are both male, but in the Hat Trick production, Octave's father Argante becomes his mother Araganta — a change that doesn't seem to much alter anything else.
Of course, the play's climax is never in doubt, but the fun is in getting there — in the misunderstandings, swordfights and catfights, humiliation of the stodgy parents and dreamy encounters with the faultless love objects. Before the comedy is over, we've seen a hundred slapstick stratagems along with a few post-Brechtian surprises — as when two banners unfurl, reading "Unbelievable Coincidence."
Everyone's in modern dress — designed by Charlyssa Gullege and Cynthia Yopp — and props include not just a sword but an electric drill, a baseball bat and a large metal garbage pail. Director Holloway keeps the play moving at top speed and provides idea after idea to reward our attention.
There's an onstage pianist — Jonathon Cho — who also produces the sound design with his handy boom box. The set by Samantha Dix is a colorful cartoon of a street in front of the Araganta and Geronte houses (the latter belonging to Leander's father).
Now, what this sort of farce needs is a company of actors each of whom has split-second timing and so much charisma that the audience hungers for his or her every reappearance. That's too tall an order for Hat Trick (or any local company, I'm sorry to say), but we do get several fine performances in the most important roles.
As Scapin, Stephen Fisher is spunky and self-confident and decisively on message, and as mother Araganta, Carol Robinson is as fierce as an angry suburban shopper whose bargain find has just been grabbed right in front of her. Her male counterpart, Geronte, is skillfully impersonated by Anthony Casale, and the always charming Magali Naas couldn't be better as the beloved Hyacinth. Pianist Cho is an elegant and cheerful presence from first moment to last, and Soolaf Rasheid, as the gypsy Zerbinette, is ingratiating and, at moments, moving.
The other actors aren't as impressive. Hat Trick artistic director Joe Winskye shows a nice willingness to be silly as slow-witted Sylvestre but never entirely seems to be living in the comedy, and Kyle Porter as one of the young lovers also seems out of place. As Leander, Curtis Belz has none of the precision that his part requires, and as Nerine, Gi Sung seems not to have decided just who she is.
Still, the strong sections of the cast far outweigh the weak, and one leaves Scapin remembering more high points than low. And again, one has to praise director Holloway for his artistry: He moves this large cast around the small Silver Meteor stage with amazing meticulousness. This is director's theater, and it adds up to more than its parts.
Theater companies are organisms: They have their own rates of growth, and there's nothing to do but watch and wait for their coming of age. I can't help but think that with Scapin, Hat Trick has turned a corner. After accomplishing this much, it should be difficult to return to some of the slackness of past work. I for one will be delighted when I can look forward to a Hat Trick show with the same confidence I now have regarding American Stage or Stageworks or Jobsite.
Those companies have their good productions and their bad ones — but one is always aware that they strive for the best. It hasn't always been clear that Hat Trick had the same ambition.
The change had to come sooner or later. Why not with Scapin?
This article appears in Mar 14-20, 2007.