Princess Idc

By W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan

Directed by Frank A. Lawler

Music Directed by Benjamin DiScipio

At the Agassiz Theater

Tonight at 8:00

Tomorrow at 2:00, 8:00

Like Howard Hughes' Spruce Goose, Princess Ida's unweildy structure seems virtually incapable of getting off the ground. But a series of outstanding secondary characters provides the Harvard Gilbert and Sullivan Players' production with much needed levity and sparkle. The show is no Concorde, but it does manage to fly.

To begin with, Princess Ida is not one of Gilbert and Sullivan's better efforts. Centered around Ida's decision to spurn men and found a women's university, the script is too long, and the main characters are unlikable. The score, which Sullivan used to indulge his Wagnerian pretenses, lacks any memorable tunes. Gilbert and Sulivan devotees won't be completely disappointed, though, because Princess Ida contains all of the elements the pair is famous for. Patter songs, topical jokes and absurd characters abound, and the part undergraduate, part professional cast makes the most of what they are given.

The hunchbacked King Gama (Kenneth Bamberger) steals the spotlight in the prologue when he limps on stage to explain that Ida has run out on her engagement to Prince Hilarion. His amusing gestures and grimaces demonstrate why he has been the mainstay of several Harvard Gilbert and Sullivan Players' shows. Bamberger most recently starred as King Pooh-Ba in the fall production of The Mikado.

When the scene switches to Ida's university at Castle Adamant, however, the show begins to lag. In playing the princess, Beth Ellen Salm has a most difficult job, which may explain why she falls so flat. As written, the would-be feminist princess sounds like a selfsatisfied prig, and Salm's portrayal reinforces that impression. When her assistant Lady Blanche (Linda Bielski) mocks Ida behind her back, the audience sympathizes. Lady Blanche, at least, keeps the audience awake by putting the orchestra to sleep with a song/philosophy lecture. Bielski, a professional actress, is easily the show's best female performer.

Into this all-female environment (in Princess Ida a hen, instead of a rooster, crows in the morning) comes Hilarion (Jose Alberto Calvo). Sadly, it becomes clear that Hilarion deserves Ida. While his rich voice is well suited to Sullivan's opera-style music, Calvo mangles Gilbert's complex lyrics beyond recognition. His voice sounds nice, but it would be nice to know what he is saying.

Luckily for the audience, Hilarion usually appears in the company of the courtiers Cyril (Arthur Fuscaldo) and Florian (Steven Mooradian). And unlike Hilarion, the two of them are hilarious. When the trio dress up in ruffled academic gowns and pose as women, merriment overflows. Cyril in particular is a joy to watch as he hops, skips and boozes his way around the castle. In Cyril's company, Lady Psyche (Lisa Harris) recovers from a lackluster entrance scene and provides her mate-to-be with amusing counterpoint.

The multi-level set lets more actors to fit on the Agassiz's stage, and the costumes are pretty. In one nice touch, when Hilarion, Cyril and Florian crossdress, their ruffles match the gowns of their love interests. Something, however, went wrong with the choreography. Virtually all of the female chorus members move stiffly, as if they can only bend at the waist. They look odd and distract attention from the main action.

By the time this three-hour flight of fancy floats into its finale--complete with a duel and the usual matchmaking--the audience is more than ready to get off the plane. The ungainly plot and romantic leads nearly sink the fantastic minor players and amusing slapstick comedy. In the end, though, the levity and enthusiasm pull through and keep the show from crashing.