Me: Oh, Joseph, kind Interpreter of Dreams, can you explain this strange dream I had last night? I was in this magnificent building and people were standing and applauding - and some of them were looking at their wristwatches and scratching their heads in wonderment. They'd been watching this funky musical production about YOU, but the program listed TWO narrators and there was only one. Also, some people on stage moved their mouths, but no words spewed forth - could this be an omen?
There were many wonderful things, too, in this dream - terrific music, wonderful scenery that magically dropped right out of the sky, energetic performers.What does it all mean?
Joe: Well, Mr. Criticperson, I'm glad you asked. I am an expert in these matters. (If you don't believe me, just ask my 11 insanely jealous brothers!)
First of all, I was especially pleased that director Scott Pickard had chosen Gregg Rosentreter, an extremely handsome and talented young chap, to portray Yours Truly. He was very impressive.
Now your dream, it seems, is full of both joyous blessings and, sad to say, a few curses.
Speaking of dreams, Pickard must have had what is a director's worst nightmare - the loss of a key performer on opening night. The reason Amy Stewart Pearce was going it alone as a narrator was that the show's other narrator - Jennifer O'Haley - had been suddenly smitten by a rather surprising curse herself, some form of laryngitis. So Pearce was doing double duty Friday night. It must've been particularly exhausting - so much so that the dear lady, who is really very talented, forgot some lyrics in the opening of Act Two.
On the "blessings" side of the ledger, the production's other highlights include such strong performers as David Glaittli as Pharaoh (Elvis lives!) and Bob Baker as the lead singer in the rhythmic "Benjamin Calypso."
The gods of Music, Choreography, Scenery and Costumes also smiled upon conductor Ken Plain, Marilyn Montgomery, Clif A. Davis (and son Chad), Melinda Lowry and Diane Allen.
But the gods of Lighting and Sound weren't nearly as kind to David Joy (some performers were left in the dark), and Michael Klint, who had his hands full with a frustrating sound system.
The most blatant sound problem involved poor Pharaoh, whose microphone (disguised as a scepter), malfunctioned several times.
Oh yes, about those people in the audience looking at their timepieces - "Dreamcoat" runs barely 90 minutes. This is the Great Eternal Curse for baby sitters hoping parents will have a long (and lucrative) night at the theater.