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By SANDRA [email protected]
Thursday, February 07, 2002 Page: 4D
SCRANTON – Jingling pocket keys and coins Tuesday evening, the opening
night of Broadway Theatre’s six-day run of “Les Miserables,” a middle-aged
man striding toward the exits of the Scranton Cultural Center entertained
himself and – unwittingly – others nearby with an impromptu rendition of “The
Battle Hymn of The Republic.”
“Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord …”
In fact, his eyes actually had just seen the glory of Broadway’s
second-longest-running show, but his song told an appropriate story of
reverberation.
That’s “Les Miserables.”
That’s what it does to you.
No matter how many times you’ve seen it – whether in New York, Scranton or
even London’s West End – it gets under your skin and won’t come out. It causes
you to sing in your head: any of the show’s well-known and world-embraced
verses about love and war, life and death and ultimate redemption – or even an
American marching tune.
The touring production, in Scranton until Sunday, is no exception.
An adept cast and masterful orchestra combined to produce an emotionally
potent musical narration of the lives of Jean Valjean and others struggling to
achieve meaningful existence amid the turbulence of 19th-century Paris.
That said, many theatergoers will want to compare this production to
Broadway’s. They’ll want to ask: Is it as good as New York’s?
They shouldn’t.
“Les Miserables” in Scranton is not “Les Miserables” on Broadway – and
that’s due to a different venue and a different ensemble of actors, actresses
and musicians, who bring slight variations in style. But some things are
constant.
The story, of course, never changes, and the music in Scranton is every bit
as soul-stirring as anywhere else in the world.
As Valjean, Randal Keith enchants. Perhaps shorter in stature than a
Valjean of the imagination, his solid physicality still allows him to play the
otherworldly strong Prisoner 24601 with conviction. Though his voice is a
shade less than resonating, it’s hard to find fault with his beseeching
rendition of the mournful, lyrical prayer “Bring Him Home,” which often
moves an audience to tears.
Madeleine Martin and Stephanie Waters, as the young and older versions of
his unofficially adopted daughter Cosette, turn in admirable performances.
Though without a solo in Act II, Waters is especially poignant as she tends to
a distraught Marius, played endearingly by Stephen Brian Patterson.
Love, even the unrequited sort, is a key theme in “Les Miserables.” Dina
Lynne Morishita absolutely shines – and engages more than any other female
character – in her off-lead role as the grown Eponine. Slightly built, she
nonetheless is blessed with a mighty voice, and you want to weep with her as
she concedes her battle for Marius’ heart and eventually dies – passionately –
for his cause. If there is a fault with the show, it’s that the individual
voices are weaker than one would hear in New York, but Morishita, pouring
emotion into her part, is a distinct exception.
The cast, also including a lovable Eddie Brandt as the urchin Gavroche, an
imposing Joseph Mahowald as Inspector Javert and (on Tuesday) a capable
understudy, Linda Pierson Huff, as Fantine, is at its finest in unison, and
the company scenes vicariously rally as they magnetize.
The touring production skips certain arresting Broadway details, such as a
costume change at the end that returns the fallen to the stage enrobed in all
white, but the show as a whole does not scrimp.
A grand red flag waves often over the towering set, whose mainstay is the
barricade of the usual chairs, tables, cartwheels and water barrels. As you
watch the revolution unfold, you can’t help watching that flag and thinking
about a different battle in a different world 170 years later. You relearn the
lessons of “Les Mis”: Nobody really wins a war, love is all you have in the
end, and ultimate victory is not attainable in this world.
Wherever you see the show, you come away with that message. And come out
singing.