Back in a long-gone day I associate-edited a trade magazine with a fellow who espoused what he called The Perfect Thing Theory. He insisted that anyone or anyones who created a perfect thing is forever dismissed from having to prove himself or herself with anything else.
Nice thought, no? There is, however, a downside to the theory that can become a problem for vaunted creators who, to their great credit, carry on.
This opening night, the problem comes thumpingly to composer Stephen Flaherty, lyricist Lynn Aherns, and bookwriter Terrence McNally, who in 1998 — under the auspices of currently-in-the-doghouse producer Garth Drabinsky — brought forth Ragtime, the perfect musical and the perfect century-ending bookend to Show Boat, the first great 20th-century musical.
[Read Sandy MacDonald’s ★★☆☆☆ review here.]
The Flaherty-Ahrens-McNally problem is a revival of A Man of No Importance, their 2002 adaptation of the 1994 movie written by Barry Devlin and starring Albert Finney, an item so highly entertaining that its being turned into a dullish tuner is a bafflement.
There are those who maintain that just because a property has been successful as a book, movie or play doesn’t indisputably mean it’s ripe for musicalization. I disagree. If it’s done with inspiration, why not? Bring on My Fair Lady. Bring on How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.
It’s not being done well — such that seeing the original version remains preferable — is no boon. A Man of No Importance is an example, at best a mildly pleasant, mildly moving pastime well below the standards Flaherty, Ahrens, and McNally set for themselves (with Drabinsky prodding?).
Alfie Byrne (Jim Parsons, who loves returning to the stage, bless him) is a 1960s Dublin bus driver. His passion is poetry and particularly Oscar Wilde, whose plays he spends his spare time directing for a local amateur group. He’s just presented The Importance of Being Earnest to less than acclaim and has decided to redeem himself by following the embarrassment with Wilde’s controversial Salomé(!).
The choice of that work alone and its eventual, inevitable local banning is a giveaway to how dim Alfie is. He may be passionate about his pursuits, but his passion is that of a man with limited intellectual insights. He’s not a compelling protagonist.
He appears more self-deludingly foolish, although his shortcomings may be explained by a plot element requiring a semi-spoiler. Late-ish in the proceedings, it’s revealed that what it’s all about for this Alfie is repressed homosexuality. Yes, Alfie does invoke the words coined by Wilde’s heartthrob, Lord Alfred Douglas, or Bosie, for his poem. “Two Loves” — the deathless words being “the love that dare not speak its name.”
Eventually, as egged on by Wilde himself — who espouses a belief that the only way to resolve temptation is to give in to it – Alfie gets into a jam that wises up his crowd, most notably his unmarried sister Lily Byrne (the always welcome Mare Winningham), her suitor, and Alfie problem-maker Mr. Carney (Thom Sesma, also the shadowy Wilde).
Alfie’s plight is not, on the other hand, immediately announced to fellow bus driver Robbie Fay (A. J. Shively), for whom Alfie’s heart has over some time gone pitter-pat. He also doesn’t quite confess to Adele Rice (Shereen Ahmed), either, a Dublin newcomer Alfie thinks will be an ideal Salomé. She doesn’t agree, having her own eventually contrived misgivings.
Before Adam Honoré’s lights fade on an ending more upbeat than what has preceded it would suggest, there is much to say – not all heartening – about the production. The now late McNally stuck closely to the Devlin script but isn’t greatly aided by the Flaherty-Ahrens score.
The team, whose Ragtime songs are uniformly magnificent – and include the irresistible “New Music” – supplied much new Man of No Importance music but little of it more than adequate. Devotedly assuming Irish motifs, Flaherty is so assiduous that his melodies begin to sound like forgeries. For an example, there’s “The Streets of Dublin” that Shively sings brilliantly, as if he’s been shot from a cannon.
There is one outstanding group number, “Going Up,” nicely staged by director John Doyle (for this final CSC outing). That tune equals Flaherty at his best. At the other end of the workmanlike spectrum is the mind-numbing “Love Who You Love.” Set aside the grammatical gaffe and think of first-rate lyricist Ahrens designing this for the Wilde-obsessed Alfie. A prospective LBGTQ anthem, it isn’t.
There’s not much to say for the production, which has no scene designer credited and probably means Doyle chose the one drop-leaf table and the eight folding wooden chairs, all of them collapsed on the thrust stage when first sighted, like an ominous metaphor for what’s to come. Throughout the proceedings, Doyle has the actors arrange and rearrange and rearrange again and again the table and chairs as well as pull back and forth a high white upstage curtain. Is the troupe getting additional stagehand pay?
Relentlessly underlining the muted tones (also undoubtedly Doyle’s request) are Ann Hould-Ward’s costumes. Look in vain for a bright color among them, not for always reliable venerables like Mary Beth Peil, Alma Cuervo, and William Youmans as they portray kind and gentle citizens of the Emerald Isle.
There is one 2022-relevant factor to hang onto in A Man of No Importance: the banning of a work of art considered cancel-culture-ready. In that way, A Man of No Importance is of sizable importance.
A Man of No Importance opened October 30, 2022, at the Classic Stage Company and runs through December 18. Tickets and information: classicstage.org
